'They’re going to be darling.' Ulla had extricated herself from my assistant’s grasp but Sylvie was determined to hold her attention. 'Bottle-green fishnets with the reddest, highest, shiniest pair of kinky wedges you ever set eyes on.' She glanced at me. 'I’m borrowing them from a fetish shop in return for a mention in the programme.'
'Well done.' I turned to Ulla. 'Will you help us out?'
'I’m not a performer.'
'No performance skills required. All you have to do is lie there, stick your legs through the flap at the right time and wiggle your toes when I ask you to.'
Ulla hesitated.
I took a step forward.
'There’s no one else.'
She sighed.
'If it is necessary for the show.'
Sylvie swept her into a hug.
'I knew you would!'
Ulla freed herself and I made an effort to meet her eyes.
'Thanks, you’re a life-saver.'
I watched as Ulla made her way back down towards the office, and then turned to find Sylvie staring at me. Her voice was full of exaggerated marvel.
'William, you like her.'
I shook my head and started to put our props away, hiding my expression in the task.
'I’ve never gone for bossy women. Anyway, she’s taken. She’s with Kolja.' I tried to keep my voice light. 'A match made in heaven.'
Sylvie grinned.
'Then they’d better watch out. Those heavenly matches are notoriously vulnerable to temptation.'
Glasgow
IT DIDN’T TAKE Johnny long to get to the point.
'I’m organising a benefit and I’d like you to headline.'
I drew on my cigarette, wishing I hadn’t agreed to come back with him. I tipped some ash into the saucer, and smiled to sweeten my refusal.
'Sorry, John, I don’t do that anymore.'
The smile was a mistake. Johnny leant forward, enthusiasm for his new project shining on his face.
'So you said, but I thought you might be able to come out of retirement, just for one night.'
I wondered where he found the time for benefits between lecturing, exams, visits to the gym and a new baby.
'I’ll put up posters, take the tickets, shift props or act as bouncer, but don’t ask me to get up on stage. It’s just not possible.'
Johnny continued as if he hadn’t heard me.
'It’s in the Old Panopticon. It’s not normally open to the public so a lot of people might come along just to see the venue, but I’m finding it harder to get hold of halfway decent acts than I’d anticipated. You’re a godsend, William.'
I remembered this technique from our student days; Johnny’s water torture. It involved a relentless dripping at any objections until it became easier to do what Johnny wanted than to resist. I steeled my voice.
'I’m not a performer anymore.'
He shook his head, still smiling, sure that with the right persuasion I’d do it.
'I just don’t believe you, William.'
'You’ll have to because it’s true.'
Perhaps there was something in my voice or maybe Johnny had learnt that it wasn’t always possible to force the unwilling to his will. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand through his hair.
'Well, at least give me a reason.'
I said, 'Maybe one day.' Knowing it was a lie.
Johnny’s face was incredulous, his dark curls stood up in angry little spikes.
'So that’s it? First time in years that I ask you to do me a favour and there’s no apology, no explanation, just no?'
Sunlight cut through the kitchen window, making a pattern of golden squares between us on the wooden table. I turned my head and looked out towards the backcourts where the tops of sycamores moved with the spring breeze. Sometime earlier in the year someone had planted bulbs in the window box; lilac hyacinths shivered in their pots, sending their perfume into the room. The kitchen would be perfect for socialising. The ideal place to share a meal with friends around the big table, knowing that if the baby woke she was only a few steps away.
