Page 113 of The Last Love Song
She passed by her father’s office and paused, wondering if she should go inside and telephone Con. She was torn. A part of her was desperate to speak to him, but her pride was preventing her. After a while, she carried on up the stairs.
36
Lulu’s heart sank as she heard the key in the lock. She had hoped to have left the house by the time Todd returned from rehearsals. Unfortunately, he was early, and she, as usual, was running late.
‘You’re back early.’
‘Yeah, well, we’ve just had a piss-awful rehearsal. Con and I had another major argument over the running order in Central Park.’
‘Oh dear,’ she said insincerely as she walked past him and reached into the coat cupboard for her trusty combat jacket.
‘Then Ian turned up two hours late, stoned out of his mind. He had some hippy woman in tow, who he insisted should sit in for the session.’
‘Mmm.’ Lulu searched for her car keys in her numerous pockets.
‘And Derek...Derek just whinged on and on about his precious song. He not only thinks we should include it on the album, but now he’s saying he wants us to play it in front of a quarter of a million people in Central Park!’
‘I see.’
‘Con steamed into Derek and told him his song is, as he puts it, “feckin’ desperate” and there was no way it was ever seeing the light of day. Derek stormed out and didn’treappear, so we were sat there twiddling our thumbs while Ian and this stranger crouched on the floor and recited a mantra.’
‘Really? How nice. If you’re not taking your car out again today, can I borrow it? I can’t find my keys anywhere.’
Todd looked at her. ‘You’ve not heard a word I’ve just said, have you?’
‘Pardon?’
‘I rest my case.’
‘Sorry. Well, can I?’
‘Can you what?’
‘Borrow the car?’
‘Of course.’ Todd handed her the keys. ‘Where are you off to?’
‘I have to see Gus at his office to discuss this part I’ve been offered with him.’
Todd watched as she shrugged on her combat jacket.
‘And which part is this?’
‘The one I told you about.’
‘The one where you have to bare all for that avant-garde plonker that likes to call himself a serious director when his films are nothing more than pornographic filth?’ Todd sneered.
‘Todd, sometimes you sound like a middle-class, strait-laced moralist from the suburbs.’
He placed his hands on his hips. ‘That’s probably because I am.’
‘But you’re meant to be a hip rock star, sweetie.’
‘Okay, fine. I’ll go and snort a couple of lines, then jump into bed with some groupies.’
‘It would probably do you good,’ muttered Lulu under her breath.
‘What did you say?’
