‘The lying wasn’t my idea, George. Bebe told me to do that.’
‘On my orders, but we’re left with some big problems to sort out.’
‘Ones I assume that, by your royal presence, you have answers for.’
‘A solution has been suggested and we’ve come to discuss it with you.’
‘George, cut the crap. There’s no discussion to be had—you’ve made a decision. I have no choice other than to accept it otherwise you’ll dump me. You’ve made it clear that I’ll be professionally decapitated if that happens. I’d rather you just told me so we can get on with the tour.’
Except for me, everyone in the room, including Bebe, shifted their bottoms. Oh yes, the mighty corporation arse cover was in full swing.
‘We think it would be good for you to get some help with the drink and drugs.’
‘Rehab?’
‘Very low-key stuff, Jack—a chance for you to take some time out, rest up and recharge the batteries. We simply can’t take the chance of something like this happening again. We have to protect you and the company when the scrutiny is going to be intense. I daresay the thing will pass and the pack will be onto something else. For the moment, though, they’re going to be after you, after a story that fits with what Driesler is preaching. And we know where that can lead, don’t we?’
‘When?’
‘We’re going to rearrange the rest of the American tour. We want you to return to England tomorrow.’
‘You’re cancelling the tour?’
‘Not cancelling, Jack, we’re altering the dates and that gives us the chance to add more dates. The tour is a huge success here and we want to make it bigger, so it gives us the chance to take stock.’
‘So tomorrow I go back to England and go into rehab?’
For the first time Bebe entered the debate. ‘It will be a chance for you to sort things out, Jack. Who knows, you might start working again. You need to take Driesler’s science on and you need to be rested and in shape.’
‘We can’t let Driesler take you down, Jack,’ said George with what nearly sounded like some earnest passion. ‘The company has too much at stake.’ Yes, of course, that was his passion. ‘So we need you to burst his bubble, but you can’t show any weakness. We think he may know about some of your…habits and that’s what he’s driving at with some of what he’s saying. It’s personal, Jack, whatever he claims. He doesn’t like you and he wants to bring you down. So the company needs to protect its investment—you—and the best way of doing that is to get you sorted and make you strong again.’
I’m not sure how the meeting ended. The rest of the afternoon retreated behind a haze as I sank into my own thoughts. Bebe poured a drink, fussed around me and, when he knew I’d disappeared to a place of my own, left me alone. Only when it was time for the show did he reappear and slowly coax me to return to the present. How lucky I was to have done the show over forty times: when I needed something deep inside to switch to automatic I was rewarded by a near-perfect performance.
As on the previous night, Bebe took the precaution of organising appropriate post-show entertainment. Given the Vegas location it was suitably lurid, complete with Egyptian theme. There were more available women in the room than most men get to meet in a lifetime. When I entered, Bebe bowed slightly and waved in the direction of the party as though I was an offering to the gods, as though he was inviting me to say farewell to a previous life.
‘You knew about what George was going to say, didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Had you discussed it with him?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was it your idea?’
‘No Jack, this is the company—it’s about them now, not you. If they can protect themselves as well as you then they’ll do that, but if they have to sacrifice you, they will. They won’t and can’t let Jo’s death touch them. You know that.’
‘Do you agree with what they’re asking me to do?’
‘Oh God yes, Jack. It’s a chance for you to give up all this shit.’ He waved at the crowded room.
Two women dressed as slave girls came to where we stood. In the distance there were women in full Cleopatra costume. In a room to one side I heard music and laughter, from a room on the other side, the splashing of guests already in a swimming pool. Several of the slave girls bared their breasts, their nipples covered with glitter. On their trays they had drinks and little gold caskets of coke as they slipped discreetly among the guests. George was absent, but two of his cohorts were there. One of them took coke from a black slave girl and retreated to a corner. What hypocrites they all were. Just hours before they sat blandly whilst their boss chastised me for the very excess in which they now indulged. But, of course, none of them inhabited planet fame, so they were all safe.
The pool room was humid and steamy. There were several naked people in the water already and others on the side were close to stripping and joining them. When I entered, at least five girls looked at me with a professional eye, willing and able to offer themselves completely and obey my every command, however outlandish. I could feel Bebe behind me, ready as always to ensure that my wishes were carried out. Usually I would lose myself in a situation like this by taking everything on offer. Not tonight, though. I turned, walked past Bebe, quickened my pace and, with head bowed, glided through the first room we had entered and left the hotel.
The night was warm and alive with the electric buzz of neon and the treats of the city. Everyone seemed to be smiling and laughing and I hated all of them. As I walked toward coloured fountains, the noise of the water drowning out the babble of the crowds, I felt people mass around me. I wished they would just dissolve into the pavement. I hated them all.
‘Are you all right, Jack?’
For the first time I noticed the two bodyguards who had left the party with me. They looked at Bebe for instruction; he inclined his head gently and they receded two steps.
‘There’s something I want you to do for me, Bebe. Think of it as a last favour.’
‘What, Jack?’
‘I need to go back to New Zealand, no I have to go back to New Zealand, and I want you to arrange it for me.’
‘Once you’ve gone back to England and sorted these things out, I’m sure you can make a trip.’
‘No Bebe, I think you’ve missed the point. I want to go back now. I want you to arrange for me to go to New Zealand instead of to England.’
‘I can’t do that, Jack. Please don’t ask me to do something that I just can’t do. The company have made it quite clear what has to happen. If you go off against their wishes you’ll be finished.’
‘Not if you can get them to agree. All I need is a week. Tell them you know me better than I do myself. If I have a week to sort out things there, I’ll return to the UK and do anything that’s required. I’ll go to any clinic and attend any course. Please Bebe, please try. I have to go back there. All the rehab in the world will be useless if I don’t go back and sort out what I’ve left.’
‘You’re asking so much, Jack.’
‘I know, Bebe, but once I’ve done this and been back home, things will change.’
‘Will they?’
‘Yes, I promise.’
‘I’ll try, Jack. I’ll try and get to see George now. The man likes you and he wants to do right by you. I know you think he only cares about the company, but that’s not true.’
‘I’ll be in your debt, Bebe.’
‘You already are.’
I touched his shoulder and he smiled thinly.
FOURTEEN
I was sure that the act of returning alone would convince Mary to talk to me. I was wrong. I should have realised this the first time I called, on the number kindly supplied by Mike, who’d the decency to refrain from asking why I needed it. Far from welcoming me, Mary grunted responses as though woken from the deepest sleep even though I rang mid-afternoon. She listened impatiently to my increasingly desperate pleas to meet me and left me staring at the receiver long after she’d hung up with the firmest of rejections. I tried again, a few times actually, but her response was the same and her voice harsher each time until by the end of the fourth call she screamed at me to leave her alone. Briefly I toyed with the idea of visiting her at school, that information also provided by Mike in the mistaken hope that he was helping to repair our damaged relationship. I even got as far as the car, key in ignition, before I realised just how pointless such an attempt was. Mary did not want to see me and did not want to speak to me. She thought Caroline’s death was my fault, but she refused to explain, so all I could do was try to strike the thought from my mind. I knew, though, that it was going to haunt me on lonely cold nights and ferociously empty mornings when only the bottle accompanied me.