Ellie snatched up the jar of Ponds cold cream that Elaine had dumped on the counter. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘I am really trying not to be a bitch but if I do this I am going to do it wearing my own clothes and a flattering daytime makeup look. If anything goes on my face that I don’t like, then I’m bringing out the big guns.’ Ellie waved the Ponds cream threateningly. ‘If you persist in trying to force me to do anything that I’m not comfortable with, then I’m going home.’
Zach actually wrung his hands. ‘But, Velvet—’
‘Look, I chose On The Sofa for my one and only interview because I thought you’d show me a little respect and some understanding. Please don’t let me down,’ Ellie finished with a brave smile, which drooped slightly at the corners because was this what David meant when he’d said that she used a smile to get her own way?
If she did, then it worked, because Zach backed off immediately. ‘We just want you to be happy, Velvet.’ He smiled brightly and rubbed his hands together. ‘Why don’t I get you coffee and a muffin?’
It wasn’t going to be the world’s most auspicious TV debut, Ellie thought as she picked up the remote control to switch on the TV that was mounted to the wall.
‘Oh, let’s see if Homes Under The Hammer is on,’ Mercedes exclaimed, and snatched the remote away so Ellie couldn’t see how the interview was being trailed. Would Lara and Rose go on before her? Or would she get first crack at warming the audience up? These were questions that needed answering, and even if she couldn’t have face time with Tess, at least they could text.
Have decided 2 stay. Wearing white Whistles dress & will try to b myself. Any more tips?
Ellie got changed into the white broderie anglaise shirtwaister with the full skirt, which she’d been wearing at Glastonbury the first time she’d met David Gold. She wasn’t sure if that made it a lucky dress or an unlucky dress, but she could still feel the phantom touch of his hands on her arms as he’d steadied her, see the quirk of his lips as he’d smiled, and her face flushed in a way that had Elaine coming at her with a powder puff as her phone pinged.
OMG Ell! Walk! Go! This is a car crash and U R going 2 end up DEAD!!!!!
The alarm bells upgraded to a full sixteen-siren roar, with flashing lights and an arse-clenching feeling like the end of the world was well and truly nigh.
Ellie eyed her garment bag, then resigned herself to leaving her other two frocks behind. Same with her vanity case, even though it contained about a month’s salary worth of product. ‘I need some fresh air,’ Ellie said, forcing the words past her constricted vocal chords. ‘I’m going to pop out for five minutes.’
Elaine and Mercedes looked at each other, then at Ellie, who tried to assume an expression that was appropriately nervous rather than utterly hysterical. ‘I think the room next door has a window we could crack open,’ Mercedes said, because even the make-up and costume department were ready to fling her to the lions. Or were desperate to keep their jobs. Whatever.
‘Look, I’m not—’
‘Velvet! There you are!’ Zach was back without the promised coffee or muffin. ‘Shall we start walking?’
It was time to come clean. ‘I might as well tell you that I’m bailing on you,’ she explained as they set off at a fast trot. ‘None of this feels right, you know?’
‘You’re nervous. That’s completely natural,’ Zach assured her, as they got into a lift, even though he’d pleaded claustrophobia. Obviously, he’d wanted to avoid Ellie coming face to face with Lara and Rose without a camera to record the meeting for posterity, she realised. ‘Jeff and Angie will put you at ease.’
The lift doors opened and, hand on her elbow, Zach guided her through two sets of double doors, then a long, long corridor. ‘The thing is, Zach … well, I’m not convinced I’ll be portrayed in a positive light.’
Zach made an ouchy face as if Ellie had mortally wounded him. ‘We’re all thrilled that you’re here,’ he said, dodging the issue. ‘And it must feel really good to know that you can get your point across after all those terrible things Lara and Rose Kay have said about you in the papers.’
‘Yes, but what—’
‘I bet it made you really angry. Furious.’ Ellie was just about to turn a corner, but Zach ground to a halt so he could take her shoulders and look deeply into her eyes. She was starting to hate him in a very special way that she’d hardly ever hated anyone before. ‘I would have been furious. And your poor grandparents. I saw them in the paper and they looked really sweet and kind …’
‘Yeah, well they are,’ Ellie agreed, not sure why Zach felt the need to bring this up right now.
‘But they also look very, very old. You must have been so frightened that all the revelations and all the mean things people like Lara and Rose were saying would give them heart attacks and then, well, they might die.’
Ellie was appalled. ‘Oh my God! Why would you even say something like that?’
But she knew why he was saying it because Tess had told her that one of the least savoury elements of her job was to sometimes babysit guests and get them suitably riled up/tearful/hyped (delete where applicable) before they went on.
Which was why Zach was saying, ‘Just the thought of your grandparents not being there for you must be heartbreaking. Do you feel like you might cry?’ he asked hopefully.
‘This interview is not happening.’ Ellie turned on her heel in order to leave so it couldn’t happen, when a woman dressed all in black with a clip-on mike came barrelling round the corner.
‘There you are,’ she said to Ellie with a bright smile as she looked her up and down. ‘Not at all what we were expecting.’
‘Talking of things that weren’t expected—’ Ellie began, but the woman had one of her arms and Zach had the other and he was still talking about her grandparents’ untimely demise as she was marched around the corner so fast that her feet didn’t make proper contact with the floor. They came to yet another set of double doors and these ones had a red light above them that said ‘On Air’. Ellie found herself being pushed through them and onto the set of On The Sofa.
Camden, London, 1987
Billy was a stone-cold bastard. Ari had always known that, always known that her love wasn’t enough to change him, but she’d still wanted him. Even now, she ached from the want of him.
Besides, she could never be the kind of mother that Velvet should have, which was why Carol was taking her at the end of the week. Or the end of the month. Then it was halfway through the next month and Ari hid behind the curtains when Carol banged on the door and the playwright’s girlfriend pretended that Ari wasn’t there.
Ari couldn’t go out much in case Carol was lurking in next door’s bushes but it was April, the promise of sun in the air and it wasn’t good for Velvet to be cooped up, so Ari fashioned a baby sling out of a leopard-print cardie and stepped outside.
Velvet’s big eyes were wide with wonder at the world and it was all Ari could do to watch where she was going because Velvet was endlessly fascinating. Ari spent hours marvelling at all the miraculous parts, from tiny toenails to the startling mop of curls, which made up her perfect baby.
It was Camden and it was Ari back in her big hair and big heels. She was stopped every five paces by an old friend, an acquaintance, someone she used to be in a band with. They all cooed at Velvet and Velvet cooed back at them. Then they all smiled and laughed and told Ari how lucky she was.
When they bumped into Chester, Velvet managed to get one fat arm out of her swaddling and waved at him. It was humbling to watch the look of slavish adoration that lit up his face as he ever so gently stroked Velvet’s cheek. ‘She’s beautiful, Ari,’ he said in a reverent whisper. ‘She’s a little princess, isn’t she?’
They went to George & Nicky’s for a fry-up, and when Ari took Velvet out of her sling, Chester scooped up the baby and kissed her as she gurgled with delight.
‘Don’t get too attached, Chester,’ Ari said softly. ‘My sister’s taking her. I’m not cut out to
be a single mother.’
Chester covered Velvet’s tiny ears before he said, ‘Bullshit, Ari. You’re cut out to be whatever it is that you’ve set your heart on.’
Chester insisted on taking them to Gateway to buy groceries and nappies. He even wanted to go to Argos to buy a pram but Velvet was getting fretful, so instead he gave them a lift back to Primrose Hill.
Velvet was incensed when Chester drove off. She arched her back, stiffened her limbs and threw up all over Ari. The playwright had been making vague threats about rent but when Ari bumped into him in the hall he took one panicky look at the vomit-laden pair and gestured upstairs. ‘You’ve just this second had a visitor.’
Billy! Ari knew that he’d come back because, despite everything, he loved her and if he loved her, then eventually he’d learn to love Velvet. But standing in their room, a discomfited look on her face, was Georgina Pratt.
‘Oh, hello,’ she said, when she saw Ari. She gave Velvet, who was still screaming, a horrified glance. ‘Yuk! Has it been sick?’
Velvet spat up another flurry of puke by way of reply and Ari managed to catch it in her hand. Motherhood had given her an entirely new skillset.
‘What are you doing here, Georgina?’ she asked as the girl followed her into the bathroom. Ari filled the washbasin with lukewarm water and efficiently stripped Velvet, who protested every inch of the way. ‘As for you, madam, stop bitching.’
‘I’m sorry about what happened before Christmas, throwing the drink at you. And I wanted to see the baby.’ Georgina peered over Ari’s shoulder as she plonked Velvet in the basin and washed her down. ‘Can I hold her? I’ve never held a baby before.’
Icy fingers scrabbled their way down Ari’s spine but she let Georgina take her, showed her how to support Velvet’s head. Velvet loved nothing more than someone new smiling and talking nonsense at her, so she quietened down and looked at Georgina expectantly.
‘I could keep an eye on her if you wanted a shower,’ Georgina offered.
There was something about Georgina that had always felt off to Ari. Like, underneath the doughy, dumpy, Billy-worshipping exterior there were darker forces at work, but she was covered in sick. There was even sick in her hair and under her fingernails.
‘Would you? Take her into the bedroom and sing to her. She loves that. I’ll be five minutes.’
Four minutes later, when Ari turned off the shower she heard Velvet’s angry bellows, like she was being tortured. Naked and dripping wet, she rushed from bathroom to bedroom to find Velvet dumped on the bed, from where she could easily have rolled off and crushed her skull.
‘Georgina!’ she screamed, as she scooped up Velvet, spooking her and making her cry even harder. ‘Shhh. Shhh. I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you.’
Ari sat down on the bed and did all the things that Velvet loved. Rubbed her face against her daughter’s fat belly, blew her kisses, raspberries, even played Little Piggy on her starfish hands, until Velvet nestled her head in the crook of her neck.
Ari patted soothing circles on the baby’s back and thought about maybe taking a nap too, then she noticed that a whirlwind had swept through the room.
A whirlwind called Georgina Pratt, who had gathered up every single one of Billy Kay’s possessions and spirited them off. Every last guitar pick and pair of socks, and the two tartan laundry bags that contained the demo tapes and notebooks that charted the beginning and the during and the painful end of Ari and Billy.
Chapter Thirty-two
Oh! It looks much smaller than it does on TV, was Ellie’s first thought. Then: why is everyone so mad at me?
Ellie was standing at the back of the room and gazing out, not onto the famous On The Sofa set with its two huge red sofas, but into the audience, which was a sea of angry, hostile faces all looking at Ellie as if she’d gone round to each of their houses and murdered their children and pets.
The urge to cry was sudden and very strong, but the woman with the mike had her arm in an uncompromising grip and Ellie was being yanked forward, as Jeff Jenkins stood up and said, ‘And now here to answer these claims is Lara and Rose’s alleged half-sister, Velvet Underground!’
Ellie was led to a high stool. Apparently she didn’t even merit a sit down on one of the famous sofas and for some reason she was clambering on to it in an inelegant scramble and sitting there patiently while a stagehand shoved his hand down the front of her dress so he could attach her to a microphone.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the audience. There was one pugnacious-looking woman, sitting five rows back, who kept pointing at Ellie and shouting something that Ellie couldn’t hear – probably just as well.
‘Velvet?’
‘Huh? What?’ She turned to the nearest sofa where Angie Drake and Jeff Jenkins were sitting. ‘What?’
Jeff Jenkins didn’t seem as nice and smiley as he usually was. Even pretty, giggly Angie was frowning at Ellie. ‘You seem quite surprised by the audience’s reaction,’ Jeff said. ‘How does it make you feel, Velvet?’
Like, I want to get into the foetal position and rock back and forth. Ellie blinked at him. ‘Um, it’s Ellie. My name’s Ellie.’
‘Have you changed your name because of the press attention?’ Angie asked.
Ellie shook her head. ‘No. I’ve always been Ellie.’
‘Does this kind of reception make you wish you’d never sold your story to the papers?’ Jeff Jenkins wanted to know and Ellie stared at him in dismay because if they couldn’t even get that right.
‘I didn’t,’ she said, but she was drowned out by jeers from the audience.
‘You did! Because all you and your mother care about is fleecing money out of our dad,’ cried a voice, and Ellie’s gaze finally swivelled to the other red sofa set at a right angle to Jeff and Angie’s sofa. Sitting on it were Lara and Rose Kay.
She was in the same room as her two half-sisters and suddenly Ellie was trying to remember how to breathe, hands clinging to the edge of the stool as she gawped at them. Lara was the taller, fiercer-looking one and Rose was softer and somehow droopier, as if maintaining her size-six figure was a feat of endurance. They both had a Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea air to them: long buttery limbs, long buttery hair and an air of discontent on their pretty, pouty faces.
‘We always knew you’d go to the papers over Daddy’s little mistake,’ Rose said. She was sniffing and had a tissue clutched in her hand, which she very carefully dabbed under each eye so she didn’t smudge her make-up. ‘Daddy might have strayed that one time but your mother threw herself at him.’
‘It wasn’t like that at all …’ Ellie risked glancing at the audience because they couldn’t be buying any of this bullshit, but one look at their rapt, intent faces and it was clear that yes, they were buying this.
‘I can’t even look at a paper or a magazine without seeing you in it,’ Lara said haughtily. ‘Falling out of your clothes. It’s so undignified. You have no integrity.’
The sheer nerve of them – Sadie would call it chutzpah – rendered Ellie speechless. As if she was having an out-of-body experience, she could see herself perched uncomfortably on a stool, forehead scrunched up and showing quite a bit of leg. She tugged down the skirt of her dress and, as Lara patted Rose’s knee in a sisterly gesture of support, Ellie felt herself getting angry.
It was good. The anger was good as long as she didn’t let it take complete hold. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong,’ she said in a voice that sounded a little stronger.
‘How you can sit there and lie like that?’ Lara gasped, turning the fake indignation all the way up to eleven. ‘What is wrong with you? You’re, like, a sociopath.’
Ellie didn’t know what was wrong with her either. She was on live TV, for better or for much, much worse, and she had to do something rather than sit there with a face full of gormless and take everything that was being thrown at her. She was better than this. She was a fucking people person and she’d spent days in David Gold’
s apartment (she hoped that he wasn’t tuned in to On The Sofa right now) watching nothing but daytime television, and it wasn’t that difficult to get the audience on your side.
She could do this. She had no other option.
‘All right, all right,’ she said, more as a direction to herself than anyone else, then she forced herself to lift her head, pin her shoulders back and look Lara and Rose right in their pretending-to-cry faces. ‘I came on the show to set the record straight so will you please let me do that, OK?’
She didn’t wait to find out if it was OK, but plunged on. ‘I know you only have my word for it, but my mother never asked anything of Billy Kay. Not a thing.’
‘No, that’s not true,’ Lara interjected. ‘Not a week went by when there wasn’t a phone call or—’
She sounded so convincing that Ellie found herself wondering if she was the one that had got her facts wrong and then she remembered that she hadn’t. ‘My mother and Billy Kay were together for a year. It was well documented at the time. Then he left when I was three months old and he went back to your mother. I’m really sorry that you’re still hurt by that, but you can’t have a year-long affair with a married man if the married man isn’t willing,’ she said. ‘There was no other contact after that. No phone calls. Not even a birthday card.’
Ellie let that sink in. The audience seemed unsure, Lara and Rose were worriedly whispering to each other, Angie Drake was doing her listening face and Jeff Jenkins was obviously getting directions from the producer in his ear. Ellie hoped the producer was saying, ‘Let her speak! I’m sick to death of the other two.’
‘When Billy went back to his family, he wasn’t famous, but he got famous pretty soon afterwards, yet Ari never took him to court to ask for maintenance. Despite what you might have read, my mum has principles even though when you’re a single parent money’s always tight. New shoes, a school trip, a supermarket shop; whatever you have doesn’t last very long.’