Con sat upright. What was he thinking of? Why would he leave his safe, secure corner of earth to go back to civilisation and bad memories? Still, he’d been away long enough to know he’d never find peace. Maybe the only option was to return and face the past.
Two days later, Con left the house and hitchhiked to Cork airport, rucksack over one shoulder, guitar over the other.
Lulu watched the new hairdresser backcomb her hair into the trademark bouffant that millions of women across the world had tried to emulate.
‘Ouch, you’re scalping me,’ she snapped.
‘Sorry, Ms Bradley, only trying to do my job.’
Lulu raised an eyebrow. ‘When’s Trish coming back?’
‘When she’s had her baby, Ms Bradley.’
‘The sooner the better from what I can see.’
The hairdresser said nothing. The door opened and Jeff, the floor manager, came in.
‘Ready, Lulu, honey?’
‘If I’m not, it ain’t my fault.’ She indicated the hairdresser still struggling to tease her hair into the right shape.
‘Give Marcie a break, Lulu. It is her first day.’
‘No room for amateurs on this show, Jeff.’
‘There you go, Ms Bradley, all done.’
Marcie showered her in a fug of spray. Lulu got up from the chair and followed Jeff out along the corridor.
‘Hey, what’s up with you? If you don’t watch out, your reputation as “bitch on the screen but an angel off it” will go up in a puff of smoke.’
‘Sorry, Jeff.’ Lulu sighed. ‘I’ll apologise to Marcie later. I’m not myself today, that’s all.’
‘Well, get your teeth into being a grump over there. We’re in the kitchen for scene two.’ They’d arrived in the studio. Lulufollowed Jeff to the sumptuous kitchen set where even a lettuce drier could be found in the fourth drawer of the solid-oak cabinets.
‘Hi, Lulu. Looking gorgeous as always.’ The director’s voice came through the speakers from the gallery above. ‘Okay, go over to Paige. We’ll take it from the top. It’s a Friday afternoon and I know we all want out for the weekend so let’s try and catch it in one take.’
Lulu walked over to the willowy blonde who last year had been Miss Wisconsin and was now set for superstardom as the new young beauty of the most successful soap on American television.
Paige smiled at her shyly. ‘Hi, Lulu.’
‘Yeah, right. Let’s get on with it.’
‘Okay, studio. We’re ready for a take.’
Silence fell.
The clapperboard opened and shut. ‘Flamingo Grove, episode forty-six, scene twelve, take one. And action.’
On the way home in her limousine, Lulu dialled her PR’s number.
‘Chas, I’m thinking of going to the UK for a couple of weeks during the summer recess. Want to line me up something to convince the studio to fly me over on Concorde? I’m dying to try it. All my friends say it’s fabulous.’
‘I’ll do what I can, honey. You know how huge your UK audience is. The only problem is that most of the chat shows are on summer recess too. But leave it with me and I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Thanks. Oh, and also, can you organise me two tickets for the Music for Life concert at Wembley. If I’m over there anyway, it seems a shame to miss it.’
‘I’ll try, but they’re like gold dust both in London and New York.’
