‘I think you’ve made a very shrewd investment. Brad knows what he’s talking about when it comes to music. Blimey, Helen, at this rate you’ll be a tycoon before you’re twenty-one!’
‘I do hope so, Tony,’ she said seriously.
‘I presume this means we won’t be seeing you back in my classroom when the new term begins?’
‘It does.’
‘I’ll miss you. I’ve lost my best pupil.’
‘Well, it’s thanks to you that this opportunity has presented itself. So, I was going to suggest that next week, after I’ve signed the contracts, I take you out to dinner to celebrate. I owe you a lot, Tony, really.’
‘You owe me nothing, sweetheart. All I did was give you a little bit of confidence.’
‘Whatever, I’d still like to treat you. Why don’t we meet at Kettner’s at eight on Thursday?’
‘I see you’re getting to know all the “in” places to eat already,’ he teased. ‘Next Thursday would be perfect as my lady’s going away for a few days.’
‘Then I look forward to it.’
‘So do I. Bye, sweetheart.’
‘Bye, Tony.’
24
Freddy rang around the four members of The Fishermen and asked them to meet at his flat at six thirty that evening. He then went down to his local off-licence and bought four bottles of the best champagne they had in stock.
Walking home along Belsize Park Road, Freddy acknowledged his relief. After weeks of wondering whether he’d put his reputation on the line for nothing, his persistence had paid off. Okay, so it wasn’t RCA or EMI, but after an intense negotiation with Brad, Freddy reckoned he’d got himself and his lads a good deal.
At six twenty-five, Todd arrived with a sullen-looking Derek.
‘Come in, come in,’ said Freddy jovially. He led them into the sitting room. ‘How are you, Derek?’
‘Fine, thanks.’ Derek nodded and sat down, his hands in his jacket pockets.
Freddy glanced at Todd, who shrugged.
‘Well, Derek, I just might have some news to pull you out of your blues.’
‘Really?’ said Derek unenthusiastically.
The doorbell rang again.
‘Todd, let the others in whilst I organise the drinks.’
Waiting in the sitting room, the four band members heard the pop of champagne corks.
‘Do you think...?’ began Todd.
‘If there’s champagne, I presume...’
‘Now wouldn’t news of a deal be grand, Derek?’ said Con.
‘Yeah, it would,’ Derek replied morosely.
‘Right, here we are.’ Freddy brought two open bottles and five glasses through on a tray. He placed it on the coffee table in the centre of the sitting room.
‘Now, before I start pouring, I want to tell you the news and give you a brief outline of what has been agreed between myself and Brad Owen of Metropolitan Records.’
