Georgia (69 page)

Her face mirrored his own pleasure. She slapped her hands over her mouth, tears sprang to her eyes.

‘Oh Sam,’ she whispered. ‘Really?’

Maybe he should have been more discreet, yet in his heart he knew Georgia would have shouted it from the roof tops.

‘She rang me this morning,’ Sam felt like a kid himself passing on an overheard secret. ‘But don’t you go saying anything to anyone, or I shan’t tell you anything else.’

He had to go all over it again when Bert came in. What would happen at the studio? Would Anderson be charged with rape? Were Georgia and Peter getting married?

‘She ain’t ever ’ad anyone to look after her.’ Bert’s customary gloomy face broke into a wide smile revealing blackened teeth. ‘They’ve all made money out of her, worn her out, then wanted to kick her on the slag heap just because some old weirdo made up a load of lies. He deserves horse whipping.’

Georgia had told him so much about this pair. The frugal way they lived, the endless hours of work. A life that could be made easy by selling up and buying themselves a nice house. Yet he understood now why they stayed, they were the cornerstone of the community. They needed other people, the hustle and bustle. It wasn’t money which kept them here, but long roots.

The café had all the cosiness of his mother’s kitchen when he was a boy. Gossip and speculation hanging in the air like damp washing. Each and every market trader was urged to look at the paper if they hadn’t already seen it and as Sam sat eating eggs and bacon they plonked themselves down to question him.

‘What’ll happen now? Will she be on the box tonight? When will we get to see her?’

‘No wonder Georgia loves it round here,’ Sam said as he wiped up his egg with a slice of bread and butter. ‘I never saw so many caring people in one place.’

‘Well she’s our dream come true ain’t she.’ Babs shuffled round the counter to clear the tables. ‘Not many people make it out of ’ere, not unless they’re crooks. She’s our pride ain’t she?’

It was pride Sam’s heart filled with too. That same feeling he felt back home in New Orleans when kids pointed to him in the street.

‘That’s Sam Cameron, he plays a real mean horn.’ These people might all be white but it was the same emotion that moved them as moved his folks. Screw the celebrities, the rich, and the tourists, making it was when your own people had that look on their face.

‘I bet the girls and Pop aren’t doing a stroke of work this morning,’ Bert said gleefully. ‘They’ll be all in ’ere soon, talkin’ the hind legs off a donkey.’

‘Speaking of work,’ Sam got up and felt in his pocket for some money. ‘I guess I’d better go up to the studio and see how the land lies there. They say there is no such thing as bad publicity. I’ll bet they’ll be itching to get this new album out now, and they ain’t gonna like it when they find their bird has flown.’

‘Stick that back in yer pocket,’ Bert said shoving the money back across the counter. ‘That’s on me today, and if you’ve got time around six tonight come in and we’ll have a few beers. Today we got some’at to celebrate!’

Sam was right. Everyone was in a turmoil at the studio. Phones were ringing, voices raised, teleprinters clattering. Max was in a meeting already with the chiefs and every desk had a copy of the paper spread out on it.

‘Do you know where Georgia is?’ Ruth one of the secretaries rushed up to him. She had smears of mascara on her cheeks, eyes pink from recent tears, and this was a girl who was normally the blonde ice queen, efficient and unemotional. ‘They are all going mad because they can’t contact her.’

‘Sure,’ he grinned. ‘She rang me this morning. Shall I go in and put them out of their misery?’

‘Give her all our love,’ she whispered, laying one cool hand on his arm. ‘She deserves happiness after what that swine put her through.’

Once inside the boardroom Sam’s elation vanished. His old jeans, grubby sweatshirt and sneakers, stubble on his chin, looked incongruous with their smart business suits. Apart from Jack Levy and Max he knew none of the other five men. All dark and Jewish, navy suits, white shirts and club ties. They cast suspicious glances at him over horn-rimmed glasses. Tight, humourless lips, faces that could have been born middle-aged. Plump, white hands rested on the polished table, water, fountain pens in readiness before them.

Down in the market there had been joy of a wrong righted. Here there was nothing but the smell of money.

He remembered Georgia telling him about the day she signed her contract with them. No wonder she had found it so terrifying.

‘Good to see you Sam,’ Max frowned as if it wasn’t good at all. ‘Where’s Georgia?’

‘She’s gone away,’ Sam replied, pulling up a chair unasked.

‘What on earth does she think she’s playing at?’ Max exploded. ‘She should be down here.’

Seven indignant faces turning to him. Eyes narrowing at plans thwarted.

‘Now just one moment,’ Sam felt a bubble of anger in his gut. ‘Am I hearing right? You guys abandoned her, right at the time when she needed support.’

‘We did nothing of the sort.’ Jack Levy drew himself up behind the table, dark eyes blinking furiously behind his glasses. ‘We had no alternative but to suspend recording.’

‘Not one of you called on her, wrote her, sent her flowers,’ Sam’s eyes flashed from face to face. ‘Did anyone of you go to the press and tell them what a nice girl she is? Did you hell!

‘You sat on your fat arses, panicking that the golden goose was finally about to be killed off. And probably had a meeting just like this one to decide who would get the carcass.’

‘That’s not fair Sam,’ Max flushed with anger. ‘We had to act impartial.’ He drew a cigar out of his breast pocket and sniffed it reflectively.

‘You acted like cowards,’ Sam hissed at them. ‘Even if she had done everything that creep said, after all she’s given you, you should have stood up for her. I’ve only known her a few short weeks but it seems I was the only person who truly believed in her.’

‘Well, where is she now?’ one of the directors said. His face showed no emotion, just irritation that she wasn’t here, cap in hand.

‘She’s doing what she should have done some time ago. Putting her own affairs in order,’ Sam said, glaring round at each one of them in turn.

‘But the album,’ Max said.

‘Screw the album,’ Sam’s voice was rising. ‘I’d like just one of you to express concern for her. To show some emotion. She might find her mother. How ashamed you are that you doubted her? Or even ask about the boyfriend?’

‘So that’s it,’ Max said, a sly look in his eyes, taking out a gold cigar cutter. ‘I suppose she’s off screwing him.’

Sam leapt out of his chair and caught Max by the collar of his suit jacket, lifting him clean off the floor, scattering cigar and cutter to the floor.

‘You motherfucker,’ he hissed. ‘You stopped that boy from seeing her. You lied to them both. Why Max? Why?’

‘How was I to know?’ Max’s voice whined. ‘Countless blokes claim to know her. I was protecting her.’

Sam let go of him, but his fists were clenched. He looked round at all the other men, searching their eyes to see if they had guessed the reason. There was interest, surprise, but no real understanding.

‘You wanted her yourself,’ Sam snarled. ‘I can understand that, but why then if you wanted her so badly didn’t you stick up for her? You left the country with some blonde on your arm. What sort of a man are you?’

‘You’ve got it all wrong.’ Max pulled at the revers of his jacket, his eyes flashed round the room trying to convey to the other men that Sam was mad. ‘Georgia was like my own daughter.’

‘Then you,’ Sam poked a finger at Max’s belly, ‘are just like Anderson. Because I’ve sure as hell heard you describe her as a cockraiser. Did you get to rape her too?’

Max cowered back. Jack Levy leapt to his feet and moved swiftly over to Sam, putting a restraining hand on his arm.

‘That’s enough, Sam,’ he yelled. ‘Enough!’

‘Enough?’ Sam glowered round at the men. ‘I ain’t even started yet. Georgia is making what promises to be the finest album ever made,’ he hissed. ‘She’s put her heart and soul into it, singing songs of love so beautiful they even move me to tears.’ He pushed away Jack’s hand, his mouth trembling with anger. ‘But all you lot see is money,’ he went on glaring at each of the men in turn. ‘You don’t see a little girl abused by a man she trusted. A girl with guts and fire that made things happen for herself without selling her soul in the process. Don’t you know what you’ve got?’

The atmosphere was charged with electricity. Max shrank back against the wall, even Jack stopped short.

‘I’ll tell you arseholes what you’ve got,’ Sam yelled, waving his clenched fists at Jack. ‘You’ve got a girl with more heart and guts than all us lot put together. Get off your chairs, get down in the studio and listen to those tapes. Forget how much money they’ll make and listen to the message in her voice. When you’ve done that and found out what Georgia is all about, then maybe I’ll tell you where she is!’

He paused. He saw the gaping mouths, sensed that his words had sunk in. Sam turned sharply, pulled open the door, and left, slamming it behind him.

Max turned scarlet. ‘I’m sorry about that.’ His voice shook nearly as badly as his legs. He couldn’t meet their eyes. For once he couldn’t think of anything sharp to say. ‘He’s an artist, he can’t help but be emotional.’

Jack Levy took off his glasses and polished them vigorously. He felt something he hadn’t felt for years and he knew it was shame.

‘We’d better do what the man says.’ He replaced his glasses on his nose. ‘We’ll talk again afterwards.’

Sam paused only long enough in the street to take a few deep breaths. He wasn’t going to agonize over whether he’d gone too far, or whether he’d blocked all chances of his own career taking off. Right now he was going to ring that editor Phillips and make sure everyone was pulling out all the stops.

‘It’s Sam Cameron,’ he said, when they finally put him through. ‘Georgia asked me to phone and find out the state of play.’

‘Where is she?’

Sam wanted to laugh, it was that same frantic question he’d heard in the boardroom, another would-be puppet master.

‘Why?’

‘I just found Peter had gone,’ Phillips said. ‘I just hoped they were together. As I see it that pair were made for each other.’

Sam felt all the anger inside him melt. At last someone had the right idea.

‘Between you and me, off to sunny places with Peter. The recording company is freaking out. They don’t know where she is, so I’d be grateful if you didn’t print that.’

Phillips chuckled. ‘Wonderful. That news makes it all worthwhile. Peter Radcliffe is a real human being. I’m keeping everything crossed for them.’

‘Yup, looks like you might get your big love story soon. But don’t rush it, give them time. Now, about Mrs Anderson?’

‘We’ve managed to contact the health organization she is working for. The office is in Nairobi. Apparently she’s way out in the bush running a small clinic and hospital.’

‘You don’t say!’ Sam’s face broke into a broad smile.

‘We’ve got things in hand.’ Phillips’ voice had a ring of pure glee. ‘It won’t be instantaneous. Messages have to be sent by wire, the last lap will be by jeep over rough terrain. It could be a couple of weeks before they can get a replacement out for her.’

‘Did you tell them what it was about?’

‘Just the bare bones,’ Phillips hesitated. ‘I was apprehensive about the story being misinterpreted, so I promised to send full details by telex. I’ve just finished that.’

‘Georgia is going to flip,’ Sam’s voice was breaking with emotion. ‘This is all too much. How soon before we know anything positive? I don’t want to wind her up and then leave her dangling.’

‘I suggest you say nothing, yet,’ Phillips’ voice was more cautious. ‘We don’t want her rushing off to Nairobi and then missing her mother. As soon as we know she’s on a flight home, that’s the time to tell her. The poor kid’s had enough grief to last most of us a lifetime.’

‘Sounds sensible,’ Sam said. ‘At least she’s got Peter to take her mind off things. I’m very grateful to you.’

‘Has she said what action she’s going to take about Anderson?’ Once again he was just a reporter, wanting to be first with the news.

‘I couldn’t say,’ Sam said. ‘If it were up to me I’d go round there and kick seven kinds of shit out of him. But Georgia isn’t one for revenge. We’ll just have to wait for that.’

‘Keep in touch,’ Phillips’ voice held warmth and sincerity. ‘Let me know when your next gig is. I’d like to meet the man Georgia raved about.’

‘She spoke of me?’

‘Oh yes,’ Phillips chuckled. ‘You rate in importance along with Celia and Peter, but surely you knew that?’

Down in the recording studio Jack Levy and his team were listening closely to the tapes Georgia had been working on. Heads bent forward, hands on knees, cigars, coffee and even note-making forgotten.

‘Sam was right.’ Jack twisted his large gold ring around his finger during a pause, looking round at the other men with stunned eyes. ‘This is some of the best stuff I’ve ever heard.’

Georgia’s lush, rich voice filled the studio. The complex machinery, the plastic chairs, the glass partitions, the bright lights all softened in the music. With eyes closed, each one of them was transported to a place of beauty, memories and emotions long forgotten were stirred with her special magic.

Every note and instrument on the finished songs was impeccable. Sam’s tenor sax sent shivers of delight down their spines, the strings, drums and piano all played their part in creating a masterpiece.

‘Sam’s one hell of a player too,’ one of the men said. ‘We ought to get him under contract too, before he floats off back home.’

As the last note died away, Max got up. He felt drained, suddenly old and tired. He’d give anything to have Miriam back home to run to.

Why had he cheated Georgia, lied to her and held her back? Why couldn’t he have been like Sam, listened, protected and encouraged? What made a man who had a bright and beautiful butterfly in his hand, crush it and still expect it to fly?

Georgia would merely laugh at the underhand things he’d done in the past. She accepted them all the way a zoo keeper expects the tiger to snarl at him. But by preventing that lad from seeing her, by turning his back on her when she was in trouble, that was when he dug his own grave.