‘This is all a game to you,’ she says, her voice soft.
Perhaps it’s the softness that gets Jack the most. It gives him nothing to feel righteous or indignant over. She’s not angry, she barely had time to register the fact before she said it. Her bubble burst. He saw it happen. He just looks at her, frozen.
‘Okay, let’s wrap this up,’ Curtis says, standing up from propping against a table, as usual on the edges of the room. ‘You can leave now,’ he dismisses her, turning his back on her.
‘There’s one more thing,’ Laura says, feeling hollow. ‘It’s about Bo. She’s feeling cut out. I know I signed a contract with you, but I also had an agreement with her. Before you. She brought me to you and I have an obligation with her to fulfil. I’m not comfortable not doing as I promised.’
It could be just the jet lag, but she doesn’t think so, she’s almost certain she’s thinking clearly. Things in her life are certainly tilted at the moment, something, lots of things, feel off and it’s spreading. The Australian trip made her look at things differently, the show tonight reminded of what she had tried to push out of her mind but this meeting has cemented her view. Something is wrong here. Whatever happened between her and Bo, and Solomon, before her trip to Australia, she knows that one step towards straightening everything out would be to resume filming the documentary.
‘The issue with Mouth to Mouth productions is not for you to discuss,’ Curtis says. ‘It’s a contractual issue that’s currently with our lawyers.’
‘Lawyers?’ Laura looks at Jack. ‘But this could be all so much simpler than that. Just talk to Bo.’ She feels the panic welling up inside her. She thought she was walking toward freedom but instead she stranded herself on an island.
‘I need a moment alone with Jack now. You can leave,’ Curtis says, moving so that he’s beside Jack’s desk, leaning over, almost like he’s having a word in Jack’s ear, as though he owns that ear.
Laura watches him, in shock, her heart pounding, wanting to interrupt, to make one more attempt with Jack.
He speaks as if she’s not in the room. ‘Alan Murphy wants to talk to you about not being able to do gigs while the show is on the air. He says he can’t earn any money. It’s in the contract, he signed it, I told him that, he can’t have his cake and eat it, I need you to know what’s going on in case he brings it up with you.’
‘Jesus, this is the biggest platform in the world right now and he’s complaining?’ Jack asks, irritated, throwing the scrunched up baby wipe down on the desk.
Laura slowly stands and makes her way to the door, but before she leaves, she directs her words at Jack. ‘It’s Alan’s niece’s Holy Communion. His brother asked him to perform, the show won’t let him do it. He’s not being paid.’
Jack looks at Curtis. ‘That true?’
‘Well, I don’t know the specifics. A gig’s a gig.’
Jack looks at Laura, he considers her. ‘Find out what it is exactly. If it’s his niece’s Holy Communion party then for fuck sake let him do it, Curtis.’
Laura nods her thanks, recognition of his humanity, and opens the door, feeling Curtis’ eyes searing into her back.
Jack’s not finished with her. ‘Don’t worry Lyrebird, I’ll have a word with Bo. We’ll sort this out. It’s gone on long enough and you’re right: if it stays with the lawyers, it will never be resolved.’
The relief she feels practically lifts her off her feet and carries her down the corridor, past greedy eyes, past raised camera phones, then past the powerful flashes that dare to invade the blacked-out windows of the SUV and threaten to penetrate to her soul.
She shudders, hoping it’s their own reflections they capture.
28
After not being able to keep her eyes open all day, now Laura is wide awake. As Michael drives her to the hotel, she’s dreading another night alone in a hotel room, wide awake, suffering from jet lag, feeling a loneliness that aches. When Solomon had visited her here the final time they’d seen each other, he’d held her hand and told her to contact him if she needed him. She needs him now, she has always needed him, but she couldn’t bring herself to pick up the phone and throw his life out of balance again. She can’t deny that in trying to right a wrong between her and Bo, she has also knowingly taken steps to seeing him again. She parted with them on the promise that she wouldn’t get between them, as she was so obviously destroying them. She can’t deny her selfishness in longing to see him, and her weakness in sending Jack into the ring to do her dirty work for her. The more time she is spending around people, the more she discovers of her own character failures. In the cottage she was generous, she was kind, she was positive. In this world new sides of her are emerging and she doesn’t like it. She thought she was a better person than this.
She makes her way through the photographers who snap her as she returns to the hotel, and she stops to sign photographs of herself for the fans who are there night and day, and praise her shambolic performance. She collects her key from the desk.
‘There’s a man waiting for you at the bar,’ the receptionist informs her. ‘Mr Fallon.’
Her heart lifts. Solomon. She grins. ‘Thank you.’
She practically runs through the lobby to the bar, and slowly circles the bar searching for the black-haired Solomon, seeking out the high knot on his head that stands above everybody else. But he’s nowhere to be found. Confused, she heads back the way she came.
She feels hands on her waist. ‘Hey!’ a man says. ‘Remember me?’
Rory.
Laura makes the sound of a gunshot. A fallen hare. A whimpering dying animal.
‘Yeah.’ Rory looks down, scratches his head awkwardly. ‘I wanted to talk to you about that. I came here to apologise.’ He looks genuinely sorry, embarrassed even. ‘Can we talk? I know a good place.’
Rory and Laura sit opposite one another in Mulligans, a dark pub, as shut away from others as possible. They’re in the quietest corner they can find because as soon as Laura entered everybody stared. Everybody knew who she was, from young to old, and if they didn’t recognise her, they certainly knew her name and of her abilities. The first drink is on the house, as a welcome to Lyrebird. Rory orders a Guinness and Laura has a water. He doesn’t comment on her choice, he’s messed up so much with her that he’s keen not to make any more mistakes. He’d called Solomon to apologise for what had happened at the shooting range, which had taken him a lot to do, especially to Solomon. He asked to speak to Laura but Solomon was adamant that he couldn’t, too busy keeping her to himself, which angered Rory even more. His brother had a girlfriend already, yet was protecting this woman like he owned her. His brother was always like that. Private about things, he kept things to himself, never let Rory in. Things between them had always been stilted, awkward, there was no easy banter like there was with the others. Rory understood the others, who laughed at his humour and even if they didn’t laugh, they understood it. Solomon never did. He took offence easily, he always passed judgement on Rory.
"Lyrebird" отзывы
Отзывы читателей о книге "Lyrebird". Читайте комментарии и мнения людей о произведении.
Понравилась книга? Поделитесь впечатлениями - оставьте Ваш отзыв и расскажите о книге "Lyrebird" друзьям в соцсетях.