Chapter 12
“Right, let me just check this thing is working………one, two, one two” Jenny said into the hand-held microphone. She rewound and played back, and it was fine. Buffy and Jenny Calendar were sitting in the 6th floor café at Aphrodite Records; this was Buffy’s second interview that day.
“Ok then Buffy, I’ll leave you in Jenny’s capable hands, when you’ve finished, come down to the office and then we can go over to the West Lot studios for the kids thing, ok?” Buffy smiled and nodded, Spike winked at her and left.
“It’s all go for you at the moment, I bet!” Jenny said, and Buffy said ‘yes’.
*************
“Call from Sweet, putting you through” Cordelia said to Spike
“Thanks”…he heard the click, and then Sweet said,
“Spike”
“Sweet”
“How’s Betty doing?”
“That would be Buffy, and she’s doing fine. Rehearsals are well on schedule, she’s doing interviews as we speak, got the children’s show ‘Buzz’ to do this afternoon, and her single comes out tomorrow and she’ll be at the Indie Awards and after-show party tonight”
“Good, good, you’ll bring her to meet me personally”
Spike gave a small shudder. He disliked Sweet intensely, and didn’t like the fact that Buffy would have to meet him. But he knew the meeting was inevitable, and he’d rather be there when it happened.
“Will do. Is there anything else?”
Sweet wondered whether to ask if he’d seen Dru yet, but Lorne appeared in the doorway of his study, with his ‘dealer’ so he just said,
“No. See you tonight” The line went dead. No goodbye.
Spike put his receiver down muttering ‘ignorant wanker’, then got on with some work, made a few phone calls, one special one in particular. Roughly twenty minutes later, he heard Buffy’s voice talking to Cordelia in her office, and he finished up what he was doing and closed down his computer. He’d just stood up when Buffy knocked his door.
“Come in”
“Hi, are you ready?”
He grinned at her and said,
“Willing and able pet” Buffy smiled
“Um, can I bum a lift over to the studios, I need to get myself a good pitch for tonight” Jenny asked.
“No problem, ok lets go”
*********
“POOKIE!” Xander stopped in his tracks, half way down the corridor, and turned to see Harmony, her hair in rollers covered in a scarf.
“Harmony, what can I do for you?” he was finding it difficult to look her in the eye, and scratched the back of his head, looking at his feet…
“Are we having a limo to take us tonight, or are we going in your car?”
“I’m sorry? – Tonight, what’s-“
“The Indie Radio Awards, silly pumpkin! – You, you are coming with me, aren’t you?”
“Oh that! Yes, course…I’ve ordered us a limo. Um…remember what Spike said, I mean, I said, you have got something suitable to wear tonight?”
“Oh Pookie, it’s LOVELY! It’s very low cut, slashed to the waist, backless, in fact, and it’s um, well, slashed to the waist from the bottom up too, and it’s long, and all floaty, and sort of all held together with a diamante pin thing in the middle…”
Xander looked wide eyed, didn’t sound much to it at all, backless and all the slashes…he could feel himself start to harden at the thought of all that flesh on show…
“Pookie…I said how’s your back?”
“What – sorry – oh, um, my back. Er, my back is…fine, it’s fine now, thanks”
“Good, maybe we can have a boogie at the party after!”
“Yes! I think we perhaps can…yes indeed…yes sir-ree…a boogie, well maybe.” Xander had that inane grin on his face.
“Well, I better go, what time will you come for me?”
“Um, er-“
“The awards start at 7.30pm, and we MUST be seen on the red-carpet first”
“6.30pm then, will that do?”
“Great…bye then!”
“Yeah, bye…bye then” Xander walked down the corridor, wondering if he could get Cordelia to teach him how to dance in………………five hours.
***
“Why not?”
“Why not? – I’ll tell you why not Xander, I have work to do, that’s why not” Cordelia straightened some papers and stapled them together before slipping them into an envelope. She rolled her eyes as he still stood by her desk, with pleading puppy-dog eyes.
“Why do you suddenly need to learn to dance now? Oh, look. It’s easy! Just put some music on, and move your body in time to the beat – how hard can that be…or, you could still pretend your backs bad”
“Trouble is…I never know what to do with my arms…I either end up looking like a demented windmill, or I try and keep them still and – hold on, what do you mean – bad back, how do you know about that?”
Busted
“Um…well…I, well, I – I s-saw you were walking in a, strange way yesterday morning, I asked Spike, he said you had a b-bad back” Cordelia had her back to Xander, and she bit her bottom lip, and had her eyes screwed up.
Xander stared at her, and decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.
“I know!” Cordelia suddenly slammed the filing cabinet draw shut and whirling around and dazzling him with a grin, she said brightly,
“Go down to the choreographers – if they’re busy, maybe you could borrow some of their tapes”
Xander raised a brow…actually, that wasn’t a bad idea at all.
“Yeah…yeah, thanks Cordy…see you later” he left her office, and Cordelia slumped in her chair, blowing air up her face, she said to herself,
“Phew…nearly dropped yourself and Spike in it there, old gal!”
************
Cecily leaned against the doorjamb while she brushed her teeth. She was looking at Dru who was lying on the bed, apparently asleep.
She’d got her an appointment to see a doctor, one that dealt with the adult movie studio, and knew he wouldn’t ask too many questions, awkward or otherwise, the thing that Dru seemed to dread most. She was just going to go back into the bathroom, when Dru shifted and lay on her back.
“Mummy said the angels are waiting…soon…she said there’s a bad thing going to happen. Can you see the pretty angels………all the pretty angels, waiting?” Cecily frowned, and came and sat on the bed by her friend.
“Angels?” She looked out of the window at the sky, to where Dru seemed to be looking.
“They’re not angels, pet…they’re clouds…look, just wispy white clouds”
Dru said nothing else, but closed her eyes and turned over, and went back to sleep.
“That’s it love, you rest …” Cecily was frowning, she patted Dru’s shoulder and stood up and went to get dressed.
***********
Warren was like a cat on hot bricks. He nervously flitted around, checking and re-checking things to make sure they were spot on and Sweet would have nothing to complain about. There were six cases of real Champagne chilling in the cooler, and now, much to Willy’s unease, he was behind the bar checking the spirits were just that, neat spirits and not watered down grog.
“What’s this?”
Warren held up an unmarked glass bottle, and before Willy could stop him, he’d taken a swig – all the air left his lungs and he went very red I the face as he tried to breathe and cough.
“Bloody –huh…oh…fuckin’ (cough, cough) for gods…uh…(cough, cough) JESUS, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?”
He’d nearly choked on its potency. His eyes were watering, his throat burned and his tongue was numb.
Willy shifted uneasily from foot to foot.
“Hooch…200 proof Polish spirit. I use it for the cocktails…it’s very strong, and once a drinks all tarted up with various syrups, juices and half a garden full of fruit, well, punters can’t taste the difference”
Warren coughed again, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and scowled at the weasely little sod.
“No doubt leaving it easy for you to drink the proper stuff when my backs turned. Get rid of it”
“But boss I swear, nobody has ever -“
“I DON’T CARE, I told you I want everything spot on and legit, so GET RID OF IT!” he thrust the bottle at Willy’s chest and stormed off.
Willy poured the liquid into an empty, labelled vodka bottle, and put it at the back of the shelf, nobody would be any the wiser, HE wasn’t about to change the habit of a lifetime, not for Warren Walsh, not for anyone. He didn’t know what these people had over his boss to make him jump through hoops the way he was doing, but he knew one thing, it definitely must be something big…………
Warren was talking to an absolutely huge, bald black guy wearing sunglasses; he must have been as wide as he was tall.
“So, if they’re not on the guest-list, they don’t get in, understand – even if it was the Prince of England or whatever, and watch the tickets…here’s one, DON’T let that barman of mine see it. He sometimes tips off the paparazzi, we don’t want any of them in, got it?”
“Yeah man, I got it”
“Good. Tell the others” Warren walked off; leaving the huge guy to contact his crew via the walkie-talkie he was carrying.
*********
Spike slipped the jacket off the hanger and put it on. He checked the time, it was nearly ten passed six, picking up his keys and cell-phone he left the lamp on in the lounge, and left.
Just as he closed the front door, he heard his telephone ringing. He stopped for a second, hesitating whether to go back and answer it, but decided that 1). He didn’t have the time, as he wanted to get to Buffy’s for 6.30, and 2). If it were important, anybody in the know would have his cell-phone number, and 3). The Ansaphone would pick it up, not that he hardly ever bothered to listen to the messages; mostly surveys and people who wanted to sell him insurance.
Spike heard the beep and his own voice, then he ran downstairs and out to his car.
‘I’m unable to take your call at the moment, but if you leave your name and number after the tone, I’ll get back to you’………BEEP.
“Ah, um, hello, hello, um is that you William? I think I recognise the voice, it’s been a while since I spoke to you……... Sorry, I should have said, it’s Charles St John, Lord Netherbourne here…I’m sorry to ask you this, I know you’ve done so much in the past, and I hate to ask, but I’m in a bit of a fix, I’ve been left this letter, given to me by my housekeeper, and from what I can make out, Drusilla’s in- Click BEEP.BEEP.BEEP. ‘Message tape ends, please rewind………’
*************
Buffy trotted downstairs fixing in her earring. She opened the front door and her eyes went huge. Spike stood there in a black Chanel suit, an air force blue shirt that really bought out the colour of his eyes, and a black silk tie. She was a vision in ruched red satin. The dress was to the knee, and strapless with just enough cleavage on show, she’d left her hair down and had tonged it into a mass of tumbling curls, which she’d taken up on one side with a diamante comb.
“WOW! – Look at you!” Spike said, entering the hallway, leaving the front door ajar.
“I was thinking the same…I LOVE the suit!” they were both grinning
She sat down on the stairs and took her new diamante buckled, kitten heeled mules out of the box, and put them on. She checked her purse for her keys, tissues and lipstick, and then smiled up at Spike.
“Will I do?”
“You look sensational, pet, ready?”
“Ready when you are!”
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