Page 84 of The Last Love Song
The four boys nodded.
‘Great. To The Fishermen,’ Freddy said, raising his glass.
Todd, Con, Ian and Derek raised their glasses too.
‘To The Fishermen.’
25
Helen signed the final paper with a flourish. She looked up at Brad and the young solicitor, her cheeks glowing with excitement.
‘Well, there we are, Miss McCarthy. Just the money transfer from your bank to complete, which I can arrange this afternoon, and fifty per cent of the issued share capital of Metropolitan Records is yours. Congratulations.’
Helen smiled at the solicitor. ‘Thank you, Mr Brierley.’
‘Yes, congratulations, Helen.’ Brad added his felicitations in a perfunctory manner. Helen understood how he must feel. She stood up and held out her hand to Richard Brierley. ‘Thanks for all your help.’
‘Any time, Miss McCarthy.’
‘Goodbye.’ Brad stood up and followed Helen out of the office, down the stairs and out into the bright sunshine of Holborn.
‘Drink to celebrate?’ she suggested.
‘Er, would you mind if I didn’t? I’m meeting Freddy at five to run through the new contract. It’s four now and I have some calls to make back at the office.’
‘I understand. Then I think I’ll make my first executive decision and take the rest of the afternoon off.’
‘You deserve it, Helen.’ Brad hailed a taxi. It stopped andhe opened the door. As he was about to climb in, he turned back. ‘Thanks – for everything.’
Helen nodded. Brad gave a tight smile and the taxi set off along Holborn.
Just before eight that evening, Helen walked into Kettner’s. Her hair was freshly washed and styled, and she was wearing a new green mini-dress from Biba. While she waited for Tony to arrive, she ordered some champagne, then took a notepad out of her new briefcase and began to write herself a task list for tomorrow. Nick Rogers, the accountant whom Brad had recommended, was starting at Metropolitan. At eleven, the two of them had an appointment with the Inland Revenue to discuss the outstanding tax bill. Afterwards, they were meeting Brad for lunch to go through the cash-flow situation for the next six months. Now she was responsible for the business, she would run a tight ship.
‘Thank you.’ She smiled up at the waiter as he placed the champagne in an ice bucket by her table.
‘You’re welcome, madam. Shall I pour?’
Helen looked at her watch. Tony was fifteen minutes late.
‘Why not?’
When the waiter had left her table, Helen lifted the glass of sparkling liquid to her lips. ‘Here’s to you, Helen, and your future,’ she whispered to herself. She put the glass down and began to write further notes to herself.
BETTER UNDERSTAND MUSIC SCENE.This heading was vitally important. Until she knew more about the industry and its ways, Helen knew she was working at a disadvantage. It was impossible for her to have an informed financial opinion if she didn’t know the first thing about what sold and what didn’t. Brad would always have the upper hand.
Check out up-and-coming bands. Buy top twentysingles and record player, she scribbled underneath the main heading.
Read twelve months’ back issues of Melody Maker...
Forty-five minutes, six sheets of paper and half a bottle of champagne later, there was still no sign of Tony.
Helen stood up and asked to be directed to a public telephone. She dialled Tony’s number. The telephone rang but there was no reply. Maybe he’d just been delayed and was on his way.
Half an hour later it was obvious Tony wasn’t coming. Helen ordered herself a large salad and munched her way through it, unsure of what to do. She tried ringing his flat another four times, but there was still no answer.
Finally, Helen paid the bill and walked outside. She wondered if he’d forgotten, but thought it unlikely. Feeling deflated, cross, and more than a little worried, Helen hailed a taxi. The black cab took her down The Mall and through Chelsea on its way to Wimbledon.
‘Can you stop here for a moment?’ The car drew to a halt. ‘Wait here, will you? I’ll only be a moment.’
