Tough Love (24 page)

‘I wanted to earn some cash for myself, do some real dealing instead of getting it for people and not charging them anything. I just bought a load and flogged it.'

‘And sniffed half of it,' Jodie swiped.

‘So what if I did? Why's it your business? Come round here accusing me of all sorts! You going to apologise?' Karina demanded.

‘Well, I still think it's sus,' Jodie said.

Karina knew her sister would rather poke her eyes out with a sharp stick than say sorry.

‘Well, are you?' Gaz asked.

Jodie had grass stains up her back and scratches
on her face. She picked the remaining twig off her shirt and raised her head. It pained her to look Karina in the eye. ‘Sorry,' she said.

‘Fuck off and don't talk to me for a bit,' Karina said, ‘because you've well and truly done my head in.'

As Jodie sloped off, Karina grabbed the paper and began to read. She had a fair idea who might have done this, but it was only a hunch and she knew that Leanne would work it out before she could prove it.

‘See this picture of our Leanne here? She looks good, doesn't she?' Karina said to Gaz.

‘Yeah – better than you two dicks are going to look in that picture of you scrapping in the car park.'

*

‘Thank fuck for that,' Tracy said, relieved, after Tony and Leanne had left to a flurry of questions from the reporters outside. Leanne had decided it was best to go to Tony's as he lived in a flat and they could leave any reporters who followed them at ground level.

Monica had been to collect the last of her stuff a few days before. She had moved out telling Tony that he had ruined everything for her. Her parting shot had been to scream at her husband that she had put a curse on his car.

Kent was feeding Elvis and Presley, singing ‘His Latest Flame'. Tracy shook her head. ‘Anyone'd think you were always having to fight the national press off your doorstep.'

‘Well, back in the seventies when I was roadying with Showaddywaddy it was like this every day,' Kent said.

Tracy bit her tongue. If she heard another rock-and-roll-telly-through-the-windows-in-the-seventies story she was going to lamp Kent. It was his default mode when he wanted to impress her, and because he felt he was back on probation, the stories were flowing thick and fast.

‘Did anyone ever give a shit about Showaddywaddy? I can't remember girls flinging their knickers at them.'

‘Oh, you'd be surprised,' Kent said, still feeding his birds.

‘I'd get more attention, if I tarred and feathered myself and got on that perch,' Tracy said sulkily.

Kent spun round and took her in his arms. ‘“Are you lonesome tonight?”' he sang.

‘Give up!' Tracy wrestled free.

‘I can't win with you.' Kent said, apparently resigned to the fact.

‘Well, that's where you're wrong,' Tracy said cockily.

‘What's that supposed to mean?' Kent asked, curious.

‘It means I need to get away from here and from the snotty Londoners hanging round the house asking questions about our Leanne.'

‘So? What's that got to do with me?'

‘Me and you are going on holiday. My treat.'

‘Really?' Kent was so gobsmacked he dropped his bird seed.

The next day Tracy and Kent fell through the door of the travel agent's as it opened.

It was the snotty girl she and Paul had got the first time. ‘Hello,' she said sniffily, looking Tracy up and down, then taking in Kent.

Tracy knew what she was thinking. This was a different fella. But Tracy couldn't give a monkey's what some bleached-blonde upstart thought of her. She dumped the carrier-bag she was holding on to the desk. ‘Two weeks all-inclusive in the Dominican Republic, going as soon as. And I don't think your computer's going to decline that little lot, is it?'

The young woman looked at the bag, overflowing with twenty-pound notes, and logged on straight away.

Markie was at his desk. It was Monday. He hadn't looked at yesterday's papers. He couldn't be bothered to find out what rubbish had been printed about Leanne, especially since he'd been accused of having sold it to them. But he knew that there was a lot of interest in the story that wasn't a story. Today he had glanced at the front pages on his way in and seen pictures of Karina and Jodie fighting outside Karina's block. No change there then, he had thought. He had received three calls this morning from journalists asking him if Leanne had said anything about her affair with Jay, or about Kia. He was about to leave the office to meet Mac for lunch when the phone rang again. He picked it up. Another journalist looking for a scoop.

‘Yes, Leanne told me something …' Markie paused for effect. ‘She told me that if any journalists rang up I should tell them to kiss my hairy ring-piece.' He slammed the phone down. ‘Wankers.'

As he grabbed his wallet from the desk, he heard a noise outside the office. The door opened and there stood Tony. Markie hid his surprise. ‘Wouldn't have thought you'd dare show your face.'

‘The same face you were too chicken shit to come and smash in yourself? Had to get your arse-crack lickers to come and do it for you?' Tony walked in, uninvited.

Markie stared at him, deciding how to play it. Tony was a hard bastard, but had always been loyal to him – until the Mandy fiasco. Now Markie knew he had to face him down. ‘Fuck you,' he said.

Tony grabbed his arm. ‘Sit down and fucking listen to me for once.'

‘Take your hand off me before I snap it in fucking two.' Markie matched Tony's menace. Tony held his gaze for a moment, then released him. ‘Sit down,' Markie said. Tony sat. Markie had won the first battle.

‘Give me one good reason why I should give you air space?' Markie said, perching on the edge of his desk.

‘Because me and you go way back. Because I've always bent over backwards for you. And because I'm going out with your sister.'

‘That what you call it? You've been together for all of ten minutes.'

Tony sighed. ‘Me and Leanne go way back, if you must know. And I don't care if you kick off,
Markie. You can do what you fucking please. I've spent enough years pussy-footing round you and I'm not doing it any more. I love Leanne and we hid it for long enough.'

‘Hid it when?' Markie said.

‘Before she moved to London.'

‘When she was a fucking kid? Are you some kind of nonce?' Markie stepped towards him, but Tony stood up. He didn't look like he was in the mood for an argument.

‘She wasn't a kid. And it wasn't like that. Think what you want – you fucking will anyway.'

‘You lay a finger on her …' Markie began, blood boiling.

‘Lay a finger on her? What are you on about? I fucking love her. I'm not some jumped-up cunt footballer who's going to fuck off when the first bit of shit comes along. I'm in it for the long haul. And that's what I've come here to tell you. You can badmouth me, you can make sure I don't work in Bradington, but you're not sticking your oar in with me and Leanne because I love her and, worst of all for you, she loves me. Geddit?'

‘She's my sister!'

‘And you want what's best for her, don't you? Who d'you think is sorting her out while all this shit's hitting the fan? It sure isn't your mum.'

Markie was about to fly at him and tell him not to bring his mum into it, but what purpose would it
serve? And anyway, wasn't it better to have Tony on side than as an enemy, especially if what he was saying about Leanne was true? He couldn't appear to be the one to back down, though. He walked over to the filing cabinet and opened it. He produced a bottle of Hennessy XO and two glasses. He slammed them down on the desk, poured hefty measures and passed one to Tony. Tony accepted it, surprised. ‘You'd better look after her,' he said, raising his glass.

Tony raised his glass with a sigh of relief, and Markie relaxed. He'd known he had to keep his head in this stand-off and that he'd come out, as always, on top. Tony was back where he wanted and, more importantly, needed him.

*

Leanne was astonished that Tony had been to see Markie and even more so that it hadn't ended in tears. ‘Did he mention me?' she said, knowing it would take Markie a while to stop being angry about her accusations.

‘He said to look after you, which I do anyway.' He twirled her round.

He was right, Leanne thought. He did. Only that morning he had taken Kia to school, then gone to the letting agency and signed for the flat because Leanne couldn't face any more press intrusion. Yesterday had been bad enough.

Leanne could have sat and cried all day but where would that have got her? Instead she had explained to Kia that a long time ago, before she had been born, Mummy had been friends with a man who was now very famous. The reason the cameramen were following them was because they wanted to ask her about it.

She would tell Kia when she was older about Jay, Leanne thought. Now was not the time.

Last night she had worked out a plan for what to do next. She was sick to death of people making money out of her and of being the object of press fascination even when she wasn't doing anything. She and Tony had ordered in a pizza, and she had decided to take the apartment they had seen and borrow the deposit from Tony. Leanne had made a lot of decisions over the past few days. It was amazing how national press intrusion could focus the mind. She would start up her management business in earnest this week. Now she would kick-start it with a call to Victoria Haim.

Tony had taken the day off and was about to head to the shops to stockpile provisions in case there was an influx of press. He kissed her goodbye and Leanne picked up the phone. She had one call to make before she rang Victoria. The contracts man, Maurice, had been surprised that she didn't have possession of her own contracts now that Jenny no longer managed her.

Leanne punched in Jenny's number and pressed call.

‘Yeah.' The woman's familiar snappy tone rang in Leanne's ears.

‘It's Leanne.' She was nervous, but she wasn't about to let it show. She'd have to talk to people like Jenny every day when she was managing new talent, so she might as well get used to it, not curl up in a ball and die at the first hurdle.

‘Leanne?' Jenny said, as if she didn't know.

Leanne rose above it. ‘Crompton. Your biggest earner for the last five years.'

‘Oh, yeah. What can I do you for?'

Leanne wanted to say, ‘You've done me for enough over the years,' but held her tongue. ‘I'd like you to send me all my documentation. Any contracts I've signed, anything from when I first started with you.'

‘And why would you need it? You haven't got any work at the moment and everything you've had in the past is paid up. What's the problem?'

Leanne paused. Since Maurice had pointed out that she should be in possession of her own contracts, she had been reading up on people who had been stung by their agents. The resounding piece of advice for anyone who had been treated in this way was to take back control from the person who had been responsible for their affairs. Leanne didn't think anything was due to her, but she
wanted to have her contracts rather than leaving them with Jenny. And if it meant making a bit of work for the woman, good. She'd hung Leanne out to dry without a second thought.

‘There isn't a problem, Jenny. I'd just like all of my contracts, please.'

‘I'll have them sent today.'

‘Good.' Leanne should have put the phone down now that she was playing the hot-shot, but her natural inclination to be polite got the better of her. ‘So, how's everything?'

‘Everything's fine. Bye,' Jenny said, and hung up.

Next Leanne scrolled to Victoria's name. ‘Hi, it's Leanne.'

‘How are you?' Victoria asked. Leanne could hear that she didn't expect her to be too good.

‘You know something? I'm actually all right. I've decided to make a statement, once and for all.'

‘Really?' Victoria's voice rose an octave.

She could smell an exclusive, Leanne thought. ‘And I'd like you to have it.' She paused, trying to hide her nerves. This was a big step, one that she wasn't sure she wanted to take.

‘Well, that's great news.'

‘And I want to make sure I'm well paid for it, because it's the one and only time I'll be speaking about it,' she said. She hated being so forthright but she had to be.

‘Well, it depends what you're going to say …'

‘No, it doesn't. You put me on the front of a paper saying I'm going to talk about Kia's paternity and the papers will fly off the shelves.'

Victoria laughed. Leanne knew she was right.

‘OK. What's your price?'

Leanne didn't want to be greedy. She knew she could make a fortune out of this, but she wanted to lay it to rest so it wasn't hanging over Kia's head. The money was for Kia when she was older.

‘Well, there's two things. I'd like to build a working relationship with the
Globe
and I'd like first refusal as manager for any new talent you're sent.'

‘That's a tall order. We can't demand that girls go with a particular agent.'

‘No, but you can recommend me to them. Also, and I know this from experience, when you're new you're delighted if
anyone
wants to represent you.'

‘Fine by me. And money?'

‘Twenty grand.' Leanne held her breath. She was pretty sure that wasn't much for this sort of thing.

‘That should be fine,' Victoria said. ‘I'll get the contracts department on to it. Can we send a reporter up on Thursday?'

‘As long as you tell your photographer to back off. They've practically been posting themselves through the letterbox.'

‘Well, you'll let him in now, won't you? We'll need a few shots of you for the front page.' Leanne
sighed. ‘They're only doing their jobs, same as us, Leanne.'