Page 38 of Wife After Wife
“I don’t think a blurred Fuji freebie developed a week after the event will be a threat to our professional,” Megan had replied.
Of course, Terri had known that; she just liked having a go at Megan—who’d really pushed her luck by adding, “And I don’t think you’ll find Harry bothering with his disposable, even if Tom and Dick give it a whirl.”
Harry introduced a couple of VIPs to Bowie and Iman along the way, all the while keeping things moving. He was a natural at this. Finally they were on the stage, and Harry tapped the microphone. The talking died down.
“My lords, ladies, and gentlemen. Welcome to the launch of theRack.”
He had almost (but not quite) as much onstage presence as Bowie.
“Back in the fifties, my father, the late Henry Rose, started work as a reporter on a small newspaper called theLancasterChronicle. Ten years later, this exceptional man was head of the most dynamic print media company in England, with a stable of groundbreaking newspapers and magazines.
“When I started at Rose, I took a good hard look at our titles and asked myself, ‘What would Dad have done?’ And it was as if he answered,No one believes what they read in the press anymore, Harry. You should change that. Give the British people the truth.Decide who matters, and ask them the tough questions.
“And so, ladies and gentlemen, theRackwas born...”
He thanked Bowie profusely for being their “first person on the rack” and then concluded, “Before I let you all get back to the serious business of partying, I’d like to introduce you to our editor.” He beckoned Terri onto the stage. “Or as I like to call her, Torturer in Chief.” There was a ripple of laughter. “Terri—short for Terrifying—will be writing our lead features herself. I think David’s still talking to her?”
Bowie chuckled and nodded.
“Terri has brought to life my vision, and I’m sure you’ll agree that theRackis a triumph. So thanks to Terri and her team”—his eyes met Ana’s—“for creating what will be Britain’s coolest read. Thank you again for coming along, everyone. Now, as they say, party on!”
He must have got that from Megan.
Harry led David and Iman to a table at the edge of the dance floor, where Sting and his wife greeted them.
Now that the official part of the evening was done, staff moved the DJ’s equipment forward. Waiters with platters of finger food began circulating, and the noise in the marquee rose again.
So far, so good, thought Ana. Everything was going beautifully.
CHAPTER 16
Katie
The marquee was stifling. There were pedestal fans around the sides, but they were only wafting the hot, sticky air around.
“You need to shit down—sit down,” said Cassandra. “Let’s grab a sheat.” She pulled out a chair and waved over the nearest waiter. “Bottle of Bolly over here, and water for my friend, please.”
“I don’t have bottles,” he said, “but I can see—”
“Please do. I’ll take one of those to be going on with.”
Katie lowered herself onto the chair. “Ah, that’s better. Cass, maybe you should have water, too, this time round? Pace yourself a bit? We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
“Bugger that,” said Cassandra. “This is sheriously thirshty work.”
Katie looked around for Charles, thinking it might be wise to have a quiet word, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Cassandra leaned toward her. “That Merry, I don’t trusht her. And Jesus, did you clock that white dress? All she needs is a grille to stand over for the full Marilyn Monroe. And her husband’sgotto be gay. I mean, how many straight blokes do you know who tell a woman she’s channeling Hepburn?” Cassandra looked across to where Ana Lyebon was talking to a man wearing eye makeup, who might have been from Duran Duran. “Hepburn, my arse. Morticia Addams, more like.”
“The two sisters are very different,” said Katie.
“One’s too hot and one’s too cold.”
“Like the three bears’ porridge.”
The DJ spun his first disc, and a group of young women, probably from Rose, hit the dance floor.
“I feel so old,” said Katie. “And I hardly know anyone, apart from you and Charles. I’ve been so out of it all since I became a mum.”
