Chapter 15

“No, I’m sorry, not while HE’S on the judging panel. You’ll just have to find somewhere else to hold the book review finals.”

“Please darling…for me – it’ll be good publicity for the restaurant.” Jenny slipped her arms around Rupert’s neck.

“I don’t want him at the restaurant, it’s as simple as that! And publicity? – Jenny, it’s one of, in fact if not THE best restaurant in LA – I don’t need the publicity – good or otherwise. The food speaks for itself,” Rupert said, holding her around the waist.

“But all this trouble between you and Ethan was over thirty years ago. Can’t you forgive and forget?”

Giles gently pushed her away, removed is glasses and began to clean them.  “Don’t you understand?   Ethan Raine held a lot of sway with both the public and the music business in those days; it was his comments on the Juke Box show that ruined the Rocketeers – our last single bombed because he rubbished it to hell and back, and we split up.” He put his glasses on and faced her.

“Rupert…is it really that? Or is it the fact that Ethan had a fling with your wife?”

Rupert felt all the blood drain from his face, and he gave her a cold hard stare. Immediately Jenny wished to god she hadn’t said that. She'd been disappointed, and wanted to show how upset she was.

“I’m going to the studios. Then I’m going to the restaurant. Goodbye.” He turned and angrily wrenched the door open and left.

“Rupert... RUPERT!  Come back - I’m sorry – please, I - I didn’t mean…shit. SHIT!” Jenny kicked out at the coffee table,  wincing as the front door slammed shut and she heard his car start and speed off in a flail of gravel.

***

“Jenny!  How could you say such a thing?”

“Oh Anya! I know, I know! As soon as I said it I could have bitten off my tongue…oh, what’s the use! I tried to get him at the studios all morning, I’ve left three messages for him at the restaurant, and he still hasn’t contacted me – this is another possible relationship I’ve ruined."

"Not necessarily. He might just be busy. Where are you now?"

“At your place.”

“My flight is due in tonight at 9.30, Will you meet me at the airport?”

“Sure, no problem.”

***

“So, we’ve got, 'Will Love Find a Way', 'Missing You', and 'Lovers Walk'. Those are the three definites…now, 'Wish Upon a Star', 'Maybe Tomorrow', 'I’ll Be There', 'Coming Home', and it’s between either 'Message To You' or…um…'Take My Hand', yeah?” Buffy looked at Spike.

“Definitely. Which one do you prefer out of those two?”

Buffy shrugged.  “I don’t mind – they are both nice songs.”

“Well, you can always use the one you don’t use now on your next album, so shall we give Ford the casting vote? He might find one is better than the other time-wise for the CD,” Spike suggested, and Buffy readily agreed.

“Okay!”

As they were alone, Spike gently pulled her towards him and slipped his arms around her. Buffy smiled up at him, and he said, “Want some good news?”

“Uh-huh!”

“I’m coming to New York with you.”

Buffy’s face broke into a beaming smile, and she bubbled enthusiastically,  “REALLY?!  Oh, Spike, that’s fantastic!  Oh, god, I’m SO pleased – It’ll be brilliant with you there too!” She gave him a big kiss and hug.

Spike grinned,  happy that she was so pleased.  “Now, I won’t try and hide the fact that there’s a lot of work to do there pet, but if I manage things carefully time-wise with your commitments, we should have time for a little fun too, see the sites, go shopping.”

“Oooh! I’m SO excited!” Buffy jiggled up and down grinning.

“Yeah, me too, kitten. Ever been before?”

“No – can’t wait!   Will you show me round?”

“I’d love to, baby – oh, I hear footsteps...”

Buffy stepped from between standing between Spike’s legs, and they stood casually next to each other.

Ford came in. “Chosen then?” he asked Buffy.

“Uh-huh, and  you’ve got the casting vote on the last one – see which one’s better time wise Spike said. I’m easy whichever one it is”.

***

The terrified screams from Dru had Cecily racing into Sweet’s bedroom where she found her in great distress,  her hands tied to the cast-iron bed-frame, struggling and pulling with all her might.

“Untie her… I said UNTIE..." Sweet quickly complied. "There, that’s it…it’s okay, it’s okay.  Dru, listen to me, Dru, it’s me…you’re okay, pet, it’s alright, I’ve got you, shush…that’s better……… you’re okay...” Cecily cradled Dru to her naked body, soothing her, and she calmed somewhat, panting and whimpering.

Sweet got up off the bed. He was naked. Lorne entered the bedroom, tying his robe.

“What happened?”

“Don’t know. She just freaked out on me,” Sweet said, going across to his drinks cabinet and pouring himself a very large brandy.

“Bloody hell, Daddy…couldn’t you see the state of her wrists?  They’re rubbed red-raw!” Cecily said angrily.

“She was enjoying it! Begging for more – we weren’t doing anything we haven’t done before, and she didn’t use the safe word – I’d have stopped!”

“Can you get her tablets…they’re in her purse,” Cecily asked Lorne, who went to fetch them.

“Well, have you re-established the rules? She forgets things easily, it’s been two years since you...“

“Of course I did! What do you take me for?!” Sweet downed his brandy, reached for the decanter and poured himself another generous measure.

“Shush…you’re okay, baby, I’ve got you.” Cecily held Dru firmly, drawing the cover over them.

Lorne came back with her tablets. “Does she need water?”

“Please.”

“Dru…Dru…what’s the safe word, hmm? Tell me, what is your safe word to make Daddy stop?”

“Butter- butterfly…it’s butterfly,” Dru whimpered.

“Butterfly. Okay, so why didn’t you say it, pet? Here you go, take these…” Cecily handed Dru two of her tablets, and Lorne handed her a glass of water.

Dru looked scared.

“It’s okay, pet. It’s your medicine.”

Dru complied and took the tablets.

Cecily smoothed the hair out of Dru’s face. “You scared us, pet. Why didn’t you use the safe word?”

“I don’t know…in the hospital…they put me in one of those jacket things…so I couldn’t get out…and I shouted butterfly, but nobody ever came...”

Cecily frowned, then suddenly realised what Dru meant, and a wave of sympathy swept over her. She kissed her friend’s forehead and said, “You go to sleep now, hmm? You rest love.”

“Is Daddy mad with me?” Dru wiped the tears from her face.

“No, pet. He can come play with us while you go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”  Cecily got up out of the bed, and Dru lay down in the fetal position, pulling the covers up.

“Come with me.” Cecily switched the light off and Sweet and Lorne followed her.

“Daddy, no more bondage games with her. Seems she had a – a flashback of some sort, and you tying her up reminded her of being in a straight jacket at the hospital, and it freaked her out, poor thing. She said she used to cry out ‘Butterfly’, but nobody came and let her out. She’s too fragile for this.”

“Cec, you coming back to bed?” Kendra’s voice drifted from the other bedroom.

“In a minute, baby”

“Come and join us if you want, leave her to sleep. She’ll be fine in the morning, I’m sure.” Cecily tried to reassure Sweet.

“No, I – I’ll just stay with Lorne, okay?” Sweet said, finishing his second large brandy.

“Okay, see you later then.” Cecily went back to her room.

“You okay, Daddy?” Lorne asked.

“I will be...if you hold me.” 

For the first time in ages, Lorne thought how small and vulnerable Sweet looked.  “Come on…Your Lorne will sort things. I’ll make things better for you.” He led Sweet off to his room.

***

“Carling-Blake’s office.”

“Ah, um…hell-hello. Um, your switchboard put me through. I er, I was wondering…see the thing is, it’s...well, I don’t really know where to start..."

“Look, sir, can I help you, because I’m very busy, and my time is precious,” Cordelia said frostily. She often had the switchboard put members of the public through to her with silly requests, for autographs or some such, and she went mad at them for wasting her time.

“My daughter, it’s about my daughter, I’ve been given to believe she’s signed to your record company.”

“Your daughter? – I see. Who would that be then?”

“Her name is Buffy, Buffy Summers. She won the 'Search For a Star' competition. I kinda lost contact with her, and I was wondering whether you could tell me, is she there?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I do know who you mean, but I couldn’t possibly divulge any such information like that to a stranger over the phone. You’re her father you say?  Don’t you have a home phone number for her?”

“I do, but...well, it never gets answered.”

“Okay. Look, I’m not promising anything, but if you leave me your name, and a contact number, I could see that she gets it.”

“Oh, um… I don’t think…well, things ended badly, you see,” Hank said.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. She’d seen it a hundred times before. Father buggered off when the child was young, and then once their progeny got a whiff of fame, they came crawling out of the woodwork…

“I’m sorry, sir, but taking your name and a contact number is the best I can do. It's company policy.”

“Well, I don’t hold out much hope, but here goes, I’m Hank Summers, and she can reach me at 555 5042. Tell her... um, no...doesn’t matter. Thank you, and good-bye."

“I’ll see she gets it. Goodbye.”

Cordelia went into the messenger bay and gave one of the runners a note for Spike. Ten minutes later he came up to the office.

“Hi, wanted to see me?” He held up the note.

Cordelia nodded.  “Yeah. Where’s Buffy?”

“First floor, having photo’s done for ‘Billboard’ magazine. Why?”

“Has she ever said anything to you about her father?”

“Her father?  You mean the – hold on, let me get this right…the low-down, two timing, lying, cheating, no good son-of-a-bitch? Him? That father?"

“Hmm, thought so. He just phoned, wanted to speak to her. I told him I couldn’t possibly reveal her whereabouts, but I took his name and number, thought I’d sound you out first.” She wrote down the info and held it out to him.

“Right. Good, thanks, Cordy”

“Welcome. They all come crawling out of the woodwork sooner or later, don’t they?”

“Yeah…I just hope it doesn’t upset...what’s that?” Spike frowned, then Cordelia did; they could hear singing (of a fashion) getting louder.

The office door opened and in walked Xander, wearing jeans, a denim shirt, a leather waistcoat – and horror of horrors – cowboy boots. EMBROIDERED cowboy boots.

Cordelia and Spike exchanged looks.

“………even though you’re gone, my heart still yearns for...what? WHAT?” Xander stopped ‘singing’ and looked at them.

“Don’t think you’re coming in HERE singing ‘Home-on-the-bloody-Range’ songs matey-boy, coz you’re not. I. Will. Slap. You,” Cordelia said, leaning her head forward to emphasise the last four words.

“Yeah, and I’ll bloody hold you while she does it! Xander...what have you got on?” Spike frowned, staring at his friend’s feet.

“What, these?” Xander grinned and raised a foot, and then said, “Neat aren’t they!”

Again Cordelia and Spike exchanged looks.

“Um…what does Harmony think?” Cordy asked.

“Well, she wasn’t too sure at first, but then Caleb said he’d get her a pair too.  She’s going to come to the Line-dancing session at the Cactus Gulch Saloon tonight, meet some of Caleb’s friends.”

Cordelia grabbed Spike’s arm. “If I hear so much as one teeny, weeny, tiny ‘Yee Haw’ off of him, I swear I’ll....“

“Ow, Cordy, ow, ow, OW!” Spike winced, rubbing his arm where Cordelia’s nails had started to dig in.

“Sorry! But I mean it, Spike!”

“Well look, pet, if he does, you have my full permission to lasso him to a chair and subject him to any kind torture you think fit…starting with those boots!”

Cordy grinned at Spike, and mouthed ‘thank you’.

“Right...well, I’ll be off.  Um.... good luck!” Spike said.

“I’m going to need it, I don’t have much sense of rhythm.”

“I meant Cordy…and I think the last two words of your sentence were unnecessary!” Spike said, smiling. 

Cordy began to giggle, while Xander tried to work it out…

“Later!” Spike left the office still smiling.

“…going to need it…I don’t... don’t have much sense of…don’t have much sense. I. Don’t. Have. Much. Sense. – Hey! Bloody cheek!” Xander looked indignantly at a giggling Cordy.

“We’re only playing. I suppose we should be thankful you haven’t got to manage Ilyria! God alone knows what you’d look like if you did!”

“She of the blue hair? – She’s with us now?” Xander asked.

“She signs with us tomorrow. She’s finished with Sony.”

“Wow…Spike going to manage her?”

“Actually, I don’t know yet, I suppose we’ll find out later this evening at the monthly meeting”

****

“It’s a new one. Luigi asked us to try it, see what we think!” Spike handed Buffy a two-pint container full of extra rich Tiramisu ice cream.

"Oooh...yummy!"

“Buffy...” Spike looked serious, and Buffy walked around the island counter in her kitchen and put her arms around him.

“What’s the matter, baby?”  It crossed her mind suddenly that he was going to have to let her down over New York.

Spike held her to him, smoothed hair from her face and said, “Now don’t worry, all Cordelia did was take his name and number....it’s your father. He phoned this afternoon, wanting to speak to you.”

“What? – Why the – of all the bloody- what a nerve! Huh, didn’t want to know when mom was dying – or the funeral…cheeky bastard! Um, sorry!” Buffy bit her bottom lip, and looked a little sheepishly at Spike, who just cuddled her up.

“Don’t worry, petal. We see it a lot. It happens all the time. Wayward fathers come crawling out of the woodwork when they think their progeny are famous.”

“Huh. Father. Just because a man donates sperm, doesn’t make him a father.”

“I take it you don’t want the contact number he left then?”

“No, I don’t. Besides which, he knows where I live, and this number!”

“I know, kitten – so, we going try out this ice cream, or what?”

“Sure! I’ll – oh hold on...” Buffy answered her mobile.

“Hi Cordy… yes, he’s here, hold on.  It’s Cordy.” She passed him her phone and went to get some dishes for the ice cream.

“Hi Cordy - Is it? – Oh………it is. Yes, sorry. I forgot to turn it back on when I left the recording suite.” Spike switched on his mobile.  “So what’s the problem?....BLOODY HELL!... I clean forgot – I’ll be right there – thanks, bye.”

“Problems?”

“The monthly meeting! I clean forgot all about it! I should have been there twenty minutes ago – I’m sorry, pet – I’ve got to scoot – Sweet hates to be kept waiting.”

Buffy’s shoulders dropped, and she put the spoon down and came round to him. “It’s okay, can’t be helped. I can play catch-up" She eyed a mountain of correspondence. "Have a bath, do some laundry, and I must phone Willow, and that...”

“I’m sorry, babe, I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’ll keep you to that.”

He gave her a passionate kiss, and went to the front door.  “I am sorry love – don’t you eat all that ice cream, save me some!” They smiled at each other.

“I will, Well...I might! Never mind – you drive carefully, now.” She gave him another kiss and he left. Buffy waved and closed the door, and thought she’d better phone Willow.

***

Spike entered the room swiftly and threw his car keys down on the table.  “Sorry I’m late.”

“Yes, well, you’re here now. Lucky Cordelia knew where to contact you since your mobile was switched off,” Sweet said, but Spike didn’t rise to it and said nothing.

Sweet addressed the assembled team, of Xander, Spike, Glory Benson, Ethan Raine, three other mangers and, of course, Cordelia taking the notes.

“Right, first things first, new signings. We have Caleb, from Midnight Music, I hope you’re up to speed with his style and venue’s, Spike.”

“Actually...“ Xander piped up, but Cordelia quickly gave him a light kick under the table so he’d say nothing further. Xander took this to mean that Spike hadn’t got around to telling Sweet that he’d passed Caleb over to him, so he stayed quiet. Sweet had totally ignored him anyway.

“Then we have Betty – sorry, I keep getting that wrong, Buffy. Buffy? – Is it?”

“Yes” Cordelia said.

“Right. I take it as read you’re ‘on top’ of things there?” Sweet said, smirking, as was Glory Benson. Cordelia could see Spike beginning to seethe out of the corner of her eye, and knew Sweet was needling him for being late. Dangerous. Boss or not, you only pushed Spike just so far…

“Hopefully, we have Ilyria signing tomorrow. Tom, I want you to take her over.” One of the other managers nodded. “Now, last but not least, we have Noiz…dear, dear, dear. What do we do about Noiz, hmm? Spike – you’re their manager, any ideas?” Sweet asked sarcastically.

Spike had had enough. He looked Sweet dead in the eyes and said pointedly, “Plenty. First off, I think that we should get to their drug supplier and put him out of the picture – don’t you?  That might calm them down a bit.”

Sweet wasn’t stupid, he knew that Spike knew it was him supplying the band. He wondered whether Spike also knew it was him that supplied ‘Animal’ the drummer with the heroin he’d been found in possession of, and was awaiting sentence for.

Spike continued, deciding he’d continue to needle Sweet. “I mean, if it were to come out in open court just WHO had supplied Animal with the heroin, then maybe....”

“Hey, come on…I look at it this way – naughty boys, eh? It’s rock and roll! All good publicity, odd fight with photographers…and who hasn’t been caught in possession of class A drugs? Practically de rigeur for a rockstar !” Sweet said jovially, trying to lighten the mood, and shut Spike up.

But Spike wasn’t in the mood to be shut up. “Yeah, well if you’re prepared to put up with it, Sweet – all well and good. You know what they say....put up or shut up. Just don’t come nagging ME coz things are being canceled right left and centre. Look, we need to get Trick into rehab...."

“You’ll be lucky, he won’t go voluntarily!” Glory said.

Spike flashed her a look, and repeated,  “Get Trick – and Rack really, but most of all get Trick into rehab, coz if this assault charge suddenly escalates and this photographer dies, it’ll be a manslaughter charge he’ll be facing, and he’ll have no option. What we need is damage limitation here. Get him into Rehab, one of those private London clinics, let them drop off the scene for a while until the heat dies down. Then we can do the comeback tour.”

Spike was flying close to the wind here, but he didn’t care. Sweet wanted to play dirty – bring it on, but when all was said and done, what Spike had said was 100% right.

“Okay, moving on," Sweet said. "Gunn...? That little spat on your show, wasn’t very well reported,” he addressed his comments to Glory.

“It was in your papers!”

“I know that, but it didn’t even rate a mention in any of the others.”

“Because it’s self-publicity. The tabloids are sick of it, they KNOW it’s all a put up job,” Glory said wearily.

“Yeah, get someone to do a ‘drive-by’ on her, get some proper publicity then!” Spike said quietly, only Cordelia, Xander and Glory herself heard this.

“DO YOU MIND?!” Glory snapped at Spike, but he, Cordy and Xander were grinning.

“Not at all.” Spike stared Glory down.

Sweet wondered what was eating Spike, and it crossed his mind that it could be about Dru being back.

The put-down of Glory broke the tension a little, and Spike sat back, idly playing with his keys. He knew his value to Sweet, and Sweet did too. Spike was the best manager around by far – Sweet couldn’t afford to lose him, which was why he let Spike get away with the sarcasm and answering back. 

“Okay, anything else?” Xander looked at Spike.

“Yeah. I’ve passed over the managing of Caleb to Xander. He’s more up on venues and that style of music. Personally, I wouldn’t have a clue. Xand’s the man. Also, he now manages Harmony. The girl needs a change of image. She’s 25, and getting too old for the ‘Teeny-Bop’ princess label. Her change of style at the radio awards got her front pages in seven papers, all very positive – we should go with it. Plenty more ‘Harmony’ wannabe’s in the wings – we could pick up half a dozen, no sweat” Spike said.

Sweet looked at him, and nodded.  “Okay, I’ll leave it to you, if you think Alexander here is capable.”

“He’s more than capable,” Spike said. Xander’s chest almost swelled with pride. He was SO grateful to Spike for speaking up for him, saving him the job of stammering and bungling through it and making Sweet think he was an idiot.

“Getting back to Be-uffy. Her album coming on is it?”

“It’s done. That’s how much of a professional she is – just ask Ethan here – what was it you said about her when she came on your show?” Spike turned to the show-host.

“Oh, um, well, I  said that, erm…well, how m-much of a professional she was. I don’t like f-f-first timers – but you couldn’t tell.”

“I LOVE them!” Glory smiled her evil smile.

“Done, is it? Well, when is it going to be released?” Sweet was impressed.

“We’ll see this New York trip out of the way first, get some more TV behind her – I should say mid September – third week, somewhere around there, then a Christmas release, and then January she’ll start a 20 date tour.”

“Not let the grass grow on this little lady, have you?” Sweet tried to grin, but as usual, it looked like a lop-sided leer.

“Spike’s taken a ‘special interest’ in this one, haven’t you darling?” Glory said, acidly.

“Who’s going to New York with her?” Sweet asked.

“Me. I'm taking two days personal time. The other two days I’ll be working, getting in touch with my contacts, getting her some TV and that.”

“Personal time, eh? How very…dedicated. But then, you always were dedicated, weren’t you Spike?” Glory said, giving Spike an evil grin.

Sweet noticed his right hand beginning to shake, and knew it was time for him to go and take his ‘medicine’. He stood up.

“Daddy! We were going to discuss my new show!” Glory sat forward, shuffling papers.

“Some other time, Glory” Sweet said, heading to the door.

“But Daddy – you said - ”

“Now I’m saying some other time. Spike, a word please...”

Cordy glanced at Spike as he stood and followed Sweet out of the door.

“I know how things are. It must be a little hard for you at the moment. It came as a shock to ME when I saw her, so I’ll let your – lets say, less than respectful attitude pass this time.  Speak to me like that in front of the others again...and you and I will fall out.”

Sweet didn’t give Spike time to reply, he turned and walked into the waiting lift.

Spike frowned.  **Hard for me, and a shock when he saw her – saw who? What the hell is he on about now?** And then he shrugged. It must be the drugs, he thought, addled his brain. He went back into the conference room to Xander and Cordy.

“Spike! Thanks, mate – I can’t believe how easy you made that seem!” Xander actually hugged him.

“Hey! Steady on, it’s okay, mate…um, oh, didn’t you have somewhere to be?” Spike spied Harmony, looking like an extra from ‘Annie Get Your Gun’ waving at them through the glass doors.

“What – oh blimey, yes – line-dancing.  I’ll see y’all tomorrow, pardners!” Xander picked up a cowboy hat, plonked it on his head and left.

When Spike looked at Cordy, he grinned. “Glad I’m out of the office tomorrow. He’ll be 'Yee Haw-ing' and 'Howdy –Pardners' all day!”

Cordy narrowed her eyes. “I MIGHT just lose your expenses form if you don’t help me out here!”

“Ooh, temper, temper…you could always get Harmony in, discuss her change of image for a few hours.”

“Is THAT supposed to make me feel better?” Cordy glared at Spike.

“Or, you could pass everything over to the typing pool. As we know Sweet won’t be in for another week now, you could go shopping with Buffy – I’ll even sign a chit for a little something for yourself,” Spike smiled.

Cordelia grinned, and kissed his cheek. “I KNEW I liked you really!”

“I’ll bring her in for nine, there’s one or two things to sign, but if you could be available from, let's say………10 o’clock? I want her to shop for New York, Holden’s Weekly, and something really nice to wear at a fancy dinner.”

“Company cheque book?”

“Of course”

“Right. Well, if I’m doing that, I’ll go type up these minutes now. See you.”

“Thanks, Cordy, I appreciate this.”

“No, Spike, thank YOU!”

****

“New York!  Buffy....that’s fantastic!”

Willow and Buffy were sitting cross-legged, facing each other on the sofa.

“I know, and even better, he’s coming with me! I’ll have to do work, of course, I’ve got the show, and a signing in a big music store, and then there’s a magazine wants to do a spread on me, and an interview with Chart Express at the airport. There’s one or two other bits and bobs, but Spike said that if he manages it right, we’ll still have time for sight-seeing and shopping!”

“Hmm…god, this ice cream is heaven! – So, come on, what’s he like – does he kiss nice?”

“Nice? NICE? Willow – he’s, he’s fantastic! I’m, well, I really falling for him.”

Willow smiled a little hesitantly.

“Aren’t you happy for me Will?” Buffy asked.

“What – of COURSE I am! – But, well, he must have hundreds of girls after him; he’s very good looking. And he meets all the top stars and spends time with them, and um…that.”

“But he doesn’t! I asked is it like this with all the female singers, but they usually have what’s called ‘minders.’ Managers only usually spend about an hour a week with their acts. He said it was different with me…I really, really like him, Will” Buffy smiled at her friend.

"Well, good. Just be careful. I don't want you to get hurt, that's all." 

“I know. Now, I want to ask you a big huge favor.”

“What’s that?”

“Would you move in here for a few weeks, look after the house for me?”

“That would be great – and doing ME a favor! I could get some Oz time!” Both girls giggled.  “Not very romantic when you’ve got a heavy-metal freak on one side, and a girl that’s learning to play the viola on the other side…kinda hard to get in the mood…”

“Oh...guess what?  Angel sent me flowers, and my dad rang the record company!”

“NO!”

“Oh, yes – and I’ll tell you this much...."

****

“Is that it, one case? You travel light!” Jenny abandoned the luggage trolley she’d got and took Anya’s case off her.

“I went there to write songs – not to holiday. So, how’s things?”

“Let’s get back to your place. I’ve got a Thai style banquet for three in case you were extra hungry. We can open a bottle of wine and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Jenny hauled open a taxi door and they got inside.

****

“Hmm, any more of that lemon grass and coconut chicken?  Thanks....so go on, what happened then?”

“Well, I was SO disappointed he said no I couldn’t use the restaurant for the book review. I said it then...about Ethan and his Mrs. I couldn’t help it, it just sort of came out.”

“The one thing I told you NEVER to bring up! Jenny…I’ll tell you now, I spoke to him this afternoon,” Anya said.

“What – where? When? I’ve left messages everywhere, at the studio, the restaurant, his mobile – and he hasn’t got back to me.“

“He’s too angry to speak to you.”

“I’ve blown it then.” Jenny’s shoulders dropped and she heaved a sigh.

“Give it a week or two, he may come round.”

“If he knew just how sorry I was…”

“The more you push it, the more I think he’ll dig his heels in. Give him some time to cool off, and then in a few weeks, phone him, telling him you’ll be in town, suggest going for a coffee or something,” Anya said

“But what if he says no?”

“Then you know you’ve blown it.”

***

“Dru…Drusilla...?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to come out with us? – We’re going to a rock concert, then clubbing.”

“Oh, no…no thanks.”

“Sure?  You’re welcome.”

“No, thank you. I’ll stay in and watch TV. Besides which, I haven’t any money.”

“Ask Daddy! He’ll give you some” Cecily said. Throwing off her robe and standing naked in front of her wardrobe, she began to sift through the rails of clothes.

“I don’t like to…Cecily, where are my tablets?”

“Hmm – sorry pet, what?” Cecily came out of her wardrobe, holding up a leather basque with a net tutu by Vivian Westwood, holey stockings and impossibly high platform heeled shoes.

“My medication, where is it – it was in my purse.”

“Oh, and it’s not there now? Um…let me think...oh, I know, it’s at Daddy’s. We had to give you some when you went all…well, shall I ring him for you?”

“I DO need it.” Dru looked pained, she didn’t want to be a bother to anyone.

“Okay, well..let me get dressed, and I’ll sort things for you.”

****

“………you will?  Great, I’ll tell her. Bye!” Cecily put the phone down, and went into the lounge where Dru was watching TV.

“Daddy’s sending Lorne over with your tablets, okay pet? Don’t wait up!”  She kissed her friends cheek, leaving a smear of deep purple punk lipstick.

“Have a nice time.”

“We will! – Bye-ee!”

Half an hour later, Lorne knocked on the door.

“Daddy’s worried about you. He wants you to come and stay with him,” Lorne told her.

“He’s not mad with me then?”

“Course not. Cecily gone out has she?”

“Yes. To a concert, all punked up, scary makeup. I didn’t want to go.”

“Come back with me, Dru. I’ll take care of you. Me and Daddy.” Lorne held his hand out to her, and like a child she nodded and allowed herself to be led to the car.