Watching Willow Watts (17 page)

‘
Here, get this down you and I’ll fill you in
.’ Jay held out a bag of steaming food. ‘Lordy cooked it up especially for you.’

Ugh.
Willow’s stomach turned over at the thought of stuffing herself with yet more grease, but she took the bag and gingerly extracted a sausage.

‘
So! The exciting news!’ Jay motioned for her to eat and Willow bit into the oily meat.

‘
What is it?’ she asked when she finally swallowed, sneaking the still-full bag of food over a low stone wall behind her and hoping Jay hadn’t noticed.

Jay
grabbed her hands and squeezed. ‘It’s going to be
the best
,’ he said. ‘Something to make the most of you being Marilyn. Something people will really shell out for, big time!’

‘
Okay,’ Willow said slowly. She wasn’t sure she was quite up to snuff for people to pay loads to see, but if she could raise a big chunk of money for the shop in one go, it might be worth it. ‘What is it?’

Jay smiled, obviously enjoying keeping her in suspense. ‘I’m organising the Marilyn Mania Festival! Right here in Belcherton. It will be a fantastic night of Marilyn songs performed by you, along with a few special guest stars I’m trying to arrange at the moment.’

‘
Wow,’ Willow said, feeling weak at the thought of it.

‘
I know!’ Jay’s eyes gleamed. ‘And here’s the kicker: I’ve already confirmed Madame Luna – that famous Hollywood psychic who said Marilyn’s aura was communicating with you – to come do a mass séance at the beginning of the show! Then, the rest of the night, you’ll be performing with Marilyn’s spirit possessing you.’

‘
What?’ Willow’s mouth dropped open
.

‘
Brilliant, right?’ He pecked her parted lips. ‘You can thank me later, baby. And don’t worry. Apart from learning a few new songs and a couple more moves, you won’t need to do much. Shake around a bit and speak like Marilyn during the séance. Then perform the rest of the show as usual – people won’t know the difference. We’re going to charge two hundred pounds a pop.’ He looked gleeful at the thought.

‘
Two hundred?
’ A mixture of emotions swept through her. The cost of the ticket meant she’d get a lot of money fast, pay off next month’s instalment and hopefully make sizeable inroads into paying down the debt. But at such a high fee, people would be expecting a lot. Could she deliver?

‘
I’ve got to head back to the tourist centre and talk to Simpson about putting up the posters we’ve printed, not to mention starting ticket sales. We need to get moving on this fast to make it all come together next week.’

‘
Next week?’ Willow croaked.

‘
Yes, next Friday night. It’s important that we capitalise on all the people who are already here.’ Jay patted her arm. ‘You’ll be fine. It’s not like you’re actually singing, is it? Just listen to those MP3s again, learn the lyrics and I’ll get the backing tracks sorted. Anyway, you could sing something from
The Muppet Show
and people wouldn’t really care.’

Willow nodded. He was probably right, thank God.

‘
I’ll catch you later.’ Jay kissed her cheek and grabbed the bag from where she’d shoved it over the wall. ‘Now go home, practise and
eat
.’

*

Betts
ducked out of the souvenir shop and headed up the high street toward the tourist centre, calling out greetings to fellow Marilyn fans as she went. Gosh, she loved this place. She’d thought the small Southern community she’d lived in for years had been friendly, but it was nothing compared to the camaraderie she experienced with people here. It was funny, because although they all had Marilyn in common and would talk about the icon for hours, once they’d exhausted that topic they’d quickly moved on to the same things her friends at home chatted about: family, kids, pets. Even though the fans hailed from all over the world, it
did
feel like one big family.

‘
Hi, Simpson,’ she said, navigating through the packed bus shelter to the table where he was sitting. With the fancy suit and polished shoes, she almost expected him to break out a pipe and start quoting Shakespeare. He was exactly what she’d pictured when she’d thought of a British man. ‘Sorry, am I interrupting something?’ She noticed he was talking to that Jay, Willow’s agent. Betts had seen him around the village but hadn’t had the chance to speak to him yet. With eyes you could drown in and a super fit form, he was certainly a looker.

She put on her friendliest smile and turned to him now.
‘Hi there, I’m Betts, from the United States. And you’re Jay?’

Jay flashed
his white teeth, and Betts’s hand fluttered to her chest. Goodness, he was almost a young Errol Flynn. ‘Hello, Betts, lovely to meet you. Listen, Simpson and I were just discussing a new initiative I’m organising, along with the assistance of Belcherton’s tourist board and the council. We’re trying to get as many people as possible signed up to help. Maybe it’s something you’d be interested in?’

‘
What is it?’ Betts cock
ed her head.

‘
The Marilyn Mania Festival, next Friday night!’ Simpson burst in. ‘A séance with a big-name psychic from Hollywood and a huge concert, with guest stars. Think of all the people who’ll come!’

‘
Oh my,’ Betts
breathed. ‘Now that does sound exciting!’ She paused, her mind running through the practicalities. ‘But next week? Where is everyone going to stay? The campsite is almost full. And then you’d need to think about things like hygiene, water . . .’

‘
Some of the farmers are going to let us u
se their fields – for a fee. And maybe you’d be able to assist with the other logistics?’ Jay asked. ‘Something along the lines of hospitality co-ordinator, dealing with the extra campsites we’d set up, Portaloos, food vendors, the lot. It’s a short timeframe and we could really use someone like you on board. Simpson’s been telling me how active you are in the Marilyn community here. And of course we’ll pay you a nominal fee for your involvement,’ he added with another warm smile.

Gosh
, the man just oozed charm. How could Betts say no to that?

‘
I’d love to
,’ she responded. She’d help out Dickie during the shop rush-hours of late morning and early afternoon, then take care of the festival logistics. How nice they’d thought to ask her!

‘
Fantastic! Good to have you on board. Now’ – Jay shoved a stack of posters at her – ‘can you put these up around town? I’ve got to go talk to the media. Thank you.’ He nodded goodbye, then walked out the door.

CHAPTER TWELVE

CISSY DIDN’T FANCY ENCOUNTERING a crowd again, but she couldn’t put it off any longer: she had to renew the prescription for her heart medication. And Lord, if ever there was a time to keep her heart under control, it was now. She’d lain awake for the past few nights, mind racing as she frantically tried to come up with something to stop that lowlife from making money again. Until now, she’d only drawn a blank.

Draping
a silk scarf around her chignon, she belted a light summer coat over an immaculate trouser suit. The ache in her hip told her that, while the sun was out now, rain was just around the corner. Grasping her cane, she opened the door, trying not to look in the direction of the nearby campsite. It was impossible to escape the noise, though. Day or night, music and voices of people worshipping the new Marilyn drifted toward her house.

Cissy hobbled slowly down the
small country lane, pulling the scarf so it shielded her face from view. Drops started falling from the sky and she raised her head to see a cloud sliding over the sun. Opening her handbag to get out an umbrella, she noticed a large woman in an obscenely bright, floral-patterned blouse stapling something to a tree.

‘
That’s a two-hundred year old tree,’ Cissy said, wishing she had sunglasses – even though it was raining – to limit the glare of the woman’s clothing.

The woman turned, an apologetic look on her broad, friendly features. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.’ She smiled and stuck out a hand. ‘Betts Johnson. I’m here on holiday all the way from the States.’

Cissy sniffed
. Those Americans, always so eager to make friends. Keeping her hands firmly on the umbrella and away from Betts’s enormous paws, Cissy gave the woman an imperious look. ‘Yes. Well.’ She watched with satisfaction as Betts’s smile wilted.

‘
Nice to meet you.
I’d better get all these up before it really starts to rain.’ Betts waved the posters in her hand, then lumbered away.

Cissy
stared at the departing form with disdain. She couldn’t wait until these strange people left the village in peace! What was the American defiling the tree with, anyway? Sliding on her reading glasses, Cissy peered at the poster, heart dropping as the words swam into focus.

The
Marilyn Mania Festival?
The tackiness of the whole thing smacked of that horrible man, and she could just imagine his gleeful grin as the money rolled in. Meanwhile, she had to sit in almost third-world conditions and watch the person who’d ruined her life get rich? Cissy gripped the cane so hard her knuckles turned white.

As the rain bucketed down, she turned on her pumps and hurried as quickly as her hip would allow back to the house, medication forgotten. Finally – the very thing she’d been looking for; something tangible she could destroy. Somehow, she’d find a way to put an end to this festival. It might not wreck his life the same way he’d wrecked hers, but at least it was something.

Now al
l she needed was a plan.

*

Later that
evening, rain pelting the window, Willow started memorising lyrics to the Marilyn songs she’d printed off after Googling the icon. People around the world really
were
crazy about her – site after site was filled with tributes. Reading about Marilyn’s life, Willow had been surprised to see how similar it was to her own. Not that she was saying she was Marilyn – never in a zillion years would she believe all that mumbo-jumbo – but she’d never really thought of Marilyn as a
person
. Marilyn had to undergo a massive transformation each day as she got into her role as a star; she suffered from massive cases of stage fright and insecurities; and wow, Willow had never read of a woman with so much man trouble! Her own seemed positively trivial in comparison.

A knock
made her jump and her father’s bearded face came around the side of the bedroom door. ‘All right to come in?’

‘
Of course.
’ Willow wondered at his tentative tone. The last time he’d sounded like that was when he’d asked her to cook one of those revolting turduckens for Christmas, which she’d refused. If she couldn’t cook one animal without burning it, no way was she going to try two.

Her dad
settled into a wicker chair across from the bed, stroking his beard nervously. ‘Well, I wanted to have a chat with you about Betts.’

Willow smiled to herself. She’d half been expecting this, given the two of them were clearly googly-eyed fo
r each other. ‘Yes?’

‘
I don’t know how she feels about me, exactly. But I, well, I have feelings for her. And before anything really happens’ – her father’s cheeks coloured and Willow tried not to cringe as she pictured the pair together – ‘I wanted to make sure it was okay with you.’ He watched her anxiously.

‘
O
f course it’s okay.’ Willow reached across and touched his leg. ‘I just want you to be happy, and if Betts makes you happy, good.’ She bit her lip, wondering if she should bring up her one hesitation. ‘But Dad, Betts lives in America. Sooner or later, she’ll go home again.’ Willow didn’t want to pour cold water on the whole thing, but if she knew her father, the thought probably hadn’t entered his mind. And Willow knew from experience how long-distance relationships turned out.

S
urprisingly, though, her father was nodding. ‘I know. But I get the feeling we’re on the same page with this: we just want to enjoy the time we do have.’

‘
I hope you’re
both very happy, then,’ Willow said, tears filling her eyes. Her dad certainly deserved it after the grief of the past couple years – however brief this relationship might be.

‘
So what about you?’ her father asked
, visibly shaking off the lingering emotion. ‘I’ve barely seen you lately. Are
you
pleased with everything going on?’

Pleased
? She was many things: nervous, scared, overwhelmed . . . but pleased? Well, she would be when that tax debt was finally paid off. And, of course, she was happy to have met Jay. ‘Everything’s great,’ she said firmly.

‘
I never would
have pictured all this for my little girl,’ her dad said, standing up. ‘But I always knew if you wanted something enough, you’d go for it. Look at what you managed to do with your flower career. Your mum was so proud, and I know she’d be proud now, too.’ He patted her shoulder. ‘Well, I’d better leave you to it. Got to restock the shelves.’