All Tomorrow's Parties (22 page)

“Laine its Andy, I need to see you and Tony” - his voice peppered with excitement – “can I come around early tonight? I know we’re coming for your dinner party with Chris & Karenna later but I really need to see you beforehand.” Urgency had replaced the excitement she had initially heard.

“Yes of course Andy, come round about 6. I’ll take Ella home with me so we can all be there. Is everything OK?” she said tentatively.

“I’ll tell you later, right now I just need to put the final piece in the puzzle. See you later.”

She needed “Lidogate”, as it had now become known, to end. Andy had been investigating “the case” for about eight weeks, and this was the first time he was willing to talk about it. Laine had placed all of her proverbial eggs into this particular basket. She desperately needed to move on. She still loved John, of that there was no question, but he was not here. If possession were 9/10 of the law then surely love worked on the same premise. Therefore, Tony deserved to be loved, as he was always there for her, she thought, as she sat cutting out a Mahler review from the Guardian.

Bloody press cuttings. She was almost up to speed with the cuttings; summer months were a good time for “catch up days”, she thought. The office had been quiet all day. Many of the usual journalists who would call were off on holiday. After all it was nearly the end of August. Even the usual gaggle of Mahler fans who would hang around the entrance to Vestal were down to just two. Holidays and the fact the band were on a European tour, she thought, as she opened the window to try to get some air into her rather hot office.

“It feels stormy Laine, air’s heavy don’t you think?” asked Ambra as she placed another pile of newspapers on Laine’s desk.

“Yes there is certainly a storm coming”, said Laine.

Karenna was drawn to powerful things. She liked the sense of control it gave her. Photography was a form of control. From the moment she lined up the shot to clicking the shutter she was in control, and she loved it. Her photos were captured to tell the story she wanted them to tell. Her camera was a Nikon FM with a powerful telephoto lens and a distinct shutter sound. There were only two in the country when she had purchased it. It had cost her a small fortune what with the different lenses, photo paper and developing equipment, but it had been worth it. There was, after all, very little else that gave her the same sort of thrill as photography.

Chris sat in the Duke of York waiting for Karenna, his palms starting to sweat. Fear or excitement – he wasn’t sure. The pub was busy with the 6 o’clock rush, all grabbing a drink before heading back to suburbia.

He hadn’t seen Karenna for about a week. Both of them had large amounts of work on. Chris was happy with the way things were, he was still a 100% commitment-phobe. When they were together things were good, but he always felt he was not in control of any of it. He always wondered if he would still feel that flush of excitement or had it been the fact that she was a good lay and his hormones were playing a few tricks on him? He was about to find out. Karenna caught his eye as she made her way through the throng of merry Friday-nighters.

“Hi”, he said nervously.

“Hi”, said Karenna. She seemed a little shy, which was not at all what he was expecting: shy she was not. Here was a woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it, he thought.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked.

“Sure, I’ll have a Pils please.” Her eyes sparkled and he felt a surge of want, god she was hot, if he hadn’t already agreed to go for dinner at Tony & Laine’s he would take her back to his and really see how shy she was, he thought.

They sat with their drinks and discussed their weeks. Karenna over the last year had stepped from PR to A&R (artists and repertoire). Her job now primarily revolved around signing the hottest bands and building their careers. She was a hard task-master and had already got herself a reputation of being a U.H.B.: “unhitched bitch”. This was a name given to single ballsy women in the industry who did nothing to help fight the chauvinism that was so rampant. In fact, many believed woman like Karenna condoned it. Quite how she had so quickly moved up the ranks within SBC no one was quite sure, but move she had at a speed that was worthy of Nelson Piquet.

“We’ve been invited for dinner at Tony and Laine’s tonight, is that OK?” said Chris, trying to make eye contact.

“Wha…what??” The panic in Karenna’s eyes was evident. Shit, this was not part of my plan she thought: ok compose yourself, you’re gonna give the game away.

“But I thought they didn’t like me?” Good save, she thought.

“Well I don’t know about that but I know they like me so I’m sure it won’t be that bad, after all they did invite both of us. Tony said there would be some other friends of theirs there as well, so hopefully it won’t be too painful”, said Chris, trying to make light of it. He had known for weeks but had chosen not to say anything.

“If you don’t want to go that’s fine, I’ll call and cancel. I just thought it would be nice for you to get to know some of my friends, no big deal”, Chris shrugged.

“No, no it’s fine, I’d love to go - just took me by surprise that’s all”, Karenna smiled. “Can we go via mine first as I want to change, is that OK?” Maybe tonight’s the night, she thought. Has fate gifted me the opportunity to really break that cow’s spell over him? Karenna could not contain her look of excitement. Did Chris really think she would do all this for him? What a saddo, she thought.

Karenna lived in Bayswater, a basement flat of an old Victorian Mansion block. Chris was intrigued to see where she lived. Every time they had been together it had been at his house. He had received strict instructions from both Tony and Laine to find out as much as possible about Karenna as discreetly as he could. He had been a bit taken aback but had sworn to keep it a secret.

Her flat was not as he’d expected. It was bright, clean and feminine. It was also very impersonal, in fact a bit clinical, he thought. Not one thing looked out of place; there were no photos of anyone, family or otherwise. This could easily be a hotel room, thought Chris.

“I’m just gonna get changed, help yourself to a drink Chris, there’s beer in the fridge”, and with that she closed the door to her bedroom.

As ordered, Chris decided to snoop. Yes, she was a hot lady, but things for him weren’t adding up. Everything just looked a bit too perfect. Probing around the living room he first looked in the drawers of the white dresser. Nothing, now that is odd, not even a scrap of paper, literally nothing. He moved across to the sofa and was slightly relieved to find a copy of the Radio Times under the chair. Beside it sat a black glass coffee table, on

Which lay a copy of Practical Photography, October 1983. Out of date, last year’s, he thought. Now in such a perfect room, why would she keep this? Chris sat on the fake black leather chair and started flicking through the magazine. A section entitled “The World Through Your Eyes” caught his attention. It appeared to be photos sent in by readers: a picture of a Stag taken in Scotland by JR Manning - good use of colour, thought Chris, I can see why it might interest Karenna. Then like a bolt from the blue it hit him. “Venice” by K. Lacey. His eyes widened, surely not, Karenna? he thought. It was a beautiful picture of the approach to Venice at what looked to be sunrise. A low mist appeared to hang over the water, with silhouettes of the basilica and a variety of boats and gondolas. He could feel his heart starting to thump through his chest wall. This is really quite good, he thought, but not something I would ever have associated with her. He placed the magazine back where he had found it. What was taking her so long? Becoming impatient he headed into the kitchen to get himself a beer.

“What on earth are you doing in there Karenna? I’m getting hungry.”

“Coming”, she shouted through the closed door.

He knew he hadn’t been very successful on the mission set by Tony and Laine, but he had at least found out she had a hobby. He would mention it to Tony and Laine; hopefully they could use it in the quiz they were organising for tonight’s dinner party. Funny, they had never organised a quiz before, must be all that Trivial Pursuit everyone’s talking about he thought. For now he would keep it to himself, there was no reason to let Karenna know, he thought, downing his beer.

Chris and Karenna arrived at Delancey Street just before 8pm. Since leaving Bayswater the weather had turned. The blue skies had been replaced with large black clouds and the rain fell heavily. The distant crack of thunder could be heard as they made their way towards Number 26. The first signs of autumn hung in the air like the curtain about to go up on opening night.

Tony welcomed them in. “Good to see you Chris”, he said, giving him a kind of man hug crossed with a pat on the back and a handshake.

Simple Minds were promising miracles from the sitting room whilst wafts of onions and garlic sang out from the kitchen.

“You remember Karenna.” Chris beckoned her in, she had been standing behind him. He had never seen her so shy, what was going on with her?

“Yes I do”, said Tony curtly.

Something in his expression changed, slight but noticeable, thought Chris.

“Hello”, said Karenna meekly.

“Come in, come in, don’t stand there dripping, I’ll show you where the bathroom is. Karenna you look soaked through. Chris, Laine and co are in the kitchen if you want to grab a drink…” Again, hollow words, thought Chris. If they were crystal they would have rung out an alarm, he thought.

Chris made his way to the kitchen, troubled by his friend’s obviously terse demeanour.

“Here’s the bathroom, Karenna, towels in the cupboard at the back”, said Tony shutting and locking the door.

“What are you doing?” Karenna said quietly. A surge of electricity made its way through her body. She had only ever imagined he had wanted her, now here was the proof.

“Strip”, he said, his eyes darkening.

Karenna stood for a second and just stared.

!Wha… what?” Again quietly, almost at a whisper.

“You heard me, you need to make it worth it for me Karenna”, he said without a trace of emotion.

Wow he really fucking wants me.

“I knew she couldn’t give you everything you needed, I knew you’d eventually get bored of her”, she said, moving closer to him, rain water framing her face.

“You have five minutes Karenna. How and what you do is up to you, but you need to show me how much you want me.” Again monotone and singular, his voice free of emotion.

This is my chance, she thought, but what did he really want? She started to unbutton her very wet shirt. She would give the performance of her life. He would never be able to resist her again…

“Ah, just the man”, said Laine meanwhile, as Chris made his way towards her.

“I’m sorry for the squeaking – cats and dogs, Laine, cats and dogs”, he said, indicating his rather sodden shoes.

“Put them by the Aga, they’ll soon dry”, said Laine, pecking him on the cheek.

“You know Andy & Ella”, she said, indicating towards them as they laid the table.

“Drink?” offered Andy.

“Absolutely. Wine will be fine, but tell me, why does everyone look as if someone has just died?” he asked, feeling a sense of foreboding.

“You’ll need something stronger than wine Chris, I’ll get you a whiskey”, said Laine.

Laine liked Chris, he had been Tony’s best man and over the last year had been a regular visitor. Laine liked to think he always had Tony’s back when they were out together at gigs and events.

Whiskey now in front of him they had all encamped around the kitchen table. “This is going to sound really strange Chris, but please just go with it. How well do you know Karenna?” Andy said, looking straight into Chris’s eyes.

“Not too well I suppose, why?’” Yep he was right… sense of foreboding.

“Just over a year ago someone for want of a better word stalked Laine and Ella whilst they were on holiday. The sole intention seemed to be to get some compromising photos and try to come between Laine and Tony. A variety of photos were sent to Tony last year which he ignored”, said Andy pausing for a drink.

“He never mentioned anything to me”, said Chris sounding surprised.

“Well let’s just say these were photos you wouldn’t want your mother to see”, Andy continued. “One year on and the photos have resurfaced. This time someone has sent them direct to Laine and Tony’s home.”

“And… you think Karenna is behind all this?” said Chris. This is all sounding a bit paranoid, he thought downing his scotch. “I know she’s a bit, well, a bit odd, but this, this is a whole different level”, he said, the scotch now taking effect.

“I’m afraid I’ve been doing a bit of digging and the evidence is strong to say the least”, said Andy, lowering his voice.

“Andy works with a lot of police and has pulled a few strings. The photos were printed on Ilford multi grade paper which is only available at a few outlets, one of which is the one Karenna uses to buy her supplies”, explained Ella.

A shiver ran down Chris’ spine. “This is just freaky. When I was at her flat earlier there was a photography magazine - it had a picture of Venice that had been taken by her sometime last year… oh my this is all just a bit too creepy. You don’t think this is all just a coincidence do you?” Chris knew as soon as he spoke that it was too big to be a coincidence.