Goodbye Ruby Tuesday (22 page)

Her phone rang, and she saw Chelsea’s name appear.
Please don’t be cancelling on us, please.
She rolled her eyes, sure that Chelsea was going to take the easy way out, push them out again.

‘Have you seen the paper today?’ Chelsea’s voice was clipped and she could sense the stress, imagining her talking whilst walking on a treadmill in a glass office.

‘No… hi by the way…’

‘No time Evie, check the paper. I’d like to say all publicity is good… but we’ve got some attention we might not like…’ Chelsea growled a little. ‘Get a paper and call me back.’

Evie grabbed her purse, and marched to the front door, stopping to pick up a letter and put it on the side table. It was handwritten, addressed to her. Delivered to the studio. No time for that now. She marched down to the corner shop and scanned the papers, suddenly not sure which one Chelsea had mentioned. And then it became abundantly clear.

Manager denied access to Ruby Tuesday Memorial Gallery
.

The famous Ruby Tuesday, the musical performer and burlesque star who died earlier this year, is having a gallery dedicated to her. Her childhood friends are setting up the gallery where Ruby wrote some of her most famous hits. Sounds good so far right? But why won’t they let her manager and long-time family friend get involved?

‘I brought Ruby to London, got her connected and started her on this path,’ said her manager, Bill Davis. ‘I don’t know why they won’t give me access to the space. I knew Ruby better than anyone.’

Davis brought Ruby to London in the early 2000s, setting her up in burlesque bars and creating her image. Later, as she was catapulted to stardom, he was cut out because he knew too much about her destructive behaviour and terrible choices
.

‘She was a mentally damaged young woman,’ Davis told our reporter, ‘too many years in the care system, becoming dependent on drugs, alcohol and random sexual liaisons. I loved Ruby, but I don’t think they should be enshrining her memory like this, not in a local area with schools and children. She wasn’t a good role model.’

The worst part of it all? The childhood friends who are denying Davis access? One of them is his own daughter!

Evie blinked, feeling her hands start to shake as she stared at the words.
His daughter.
Bill Davis was running another con, and once again, she was the target. He was using Ruby to get to her. She threw down the money for the paper and marched back to the gallery, clutching the paper so tightly that her fingernails cut grooves into her palm.

She slammed the door behind her, standing in the middle of the room, not entirely sure what she should do.

Killian poked his head out, ‘Everything okay?’

‘Nope. Nope, nope, nope.’

‘Can I help?’

She shook her head, refusing to even look at him. ‘No. This is something for me and my family to deal with.’

Killian frowned slightly, rubbing a hand through his hair, and then shrugged. ‘Fine. Call if you need me.’ The door slammed a little too aggressively, but Evie couldn’t bring herself to care.

She called Chelsea back.

‘Have you seen it?’ she asked immediately.

‘That
bastard.
That absolute
bastard.’

‘Do you think it’s true?’ Chelsea asked, ‘I mean, I know it’s all media bullshit. He hasn’t even been in contact with you since you were here. But the bit about bringing Ruby to London?’

Evie took a deep breath, collapsing into the chair. It was not something she’d ever wanted to mention, that note Ruby left her, apologising, the fact that she was gone when Bill disappeared in the morning. ‘It’s… complicated. Could be a play, knowing enough about the situation to exploit it. Or…’

‘Or he could be another in the long line of older men Ruby got on board with in the hopes of getting something out of it.’ Chelsea sighed, sounding miserable. ‘This isn’t good for us Eves. I can tell how they’re going to push this. Give it another week and it’ll be “Den of Sin Opening in Camden for Ruby Tuesday Sexploits”.’

‘Not good?’

‘Not good.’ Chelsea sighed, ‘At least, not for the clientele we want. What does he want?’

‘Money from the tabloids? It used to be an old play of his. He’d weasel in, get people to talk to him, find out enough to have a fragment of truth, and get paid for his trouble.’ Evie felt anxiety clutching at her chest. They came this far. They had two weeks. Two weeks until the money was up. If he ruined this, they’d have to go home.

She could feel herself hyperventilating.

‘He hasn’t tried to contact you? Hasn’t asked you for anything?’

‘No, nothing. How would he even know I was here?’

‘A spy in our midst, perhaps?’ Chelsea’s voice was tight. ‘There’s no way he’s doing this without wanting something from us. I doubt it’s access to the gallery.’

Evie held her head in one hand, the phone still pushed against her ear.

‘Argh,’ she growled, pushing herself out of the chair. ‘Wait. Wait a minute. It’s got to be this.’

She grabbed the letter from the table, analysing the handwriting. It was all capitals. Distinctly old school. The bastard.

‘What is it?’

‘There was a letter on the floor this morning, perfectly timed, right?’ Evie held the phone between her cheek and shoulder, and ripped the end off the envelope, fraying the note inside in the process.

She looked at the piece of lined notepaper – cheap, bobbly paper from a yellowing notebook. The pen had started to bleed through the page, blue ink expanding messily.

‘Checked the paper? There’s more where that came from.’

‘That’s all it says?’ Chelsea’s voice was pinched, and whilst Evie was about to lose it, she really needed Chelsea to be the strong, calm one.

Evie laughed, outraged,
‘I just want what’s mine. Love Daddy.’

‘That prick.’

‘The man’s got balls,’ Evie said, feeling the anger start to swallow her up. ‘Bill Davis, always convinces himself something belongs to him.’

She heard Chelsea exhale, ‘I love you, I’m glad I’m involved with this, but if this shit threatens my life…’

‘It won’t,’ she said certainly, ‘I’ll deal with Bill.’

‘He didn’t leave a number?’

Evie rolled her eyes, ‘Never does. Likes to let you know he’s in charge and he knows where you are.’

They were silent for a moment, and all Evie wanted was for her friend to be the one to say it, but she waited, and waited, and nothing came.

‘I’ve got to go,’ Chelsea sighed.

‘Everything’s going to be fine,’ Evie said resolutely, and hung up before Chelsea could tell her otherwise.

***

Evie lined her eyes heavily, covering up the redness around the corners.

‘All right Drusilla?’ Ruby nudged her, sending the liner flying.

‘Oi! Fuck off!’ Evie elbowed her sharply, watching her stumble a little and frown. She watched as Ruby straightened and shook away the frown, replacing it with a pout as she placed her face next to Evie’s in the mirror, and grabbed a lipstick from the make-up bag.

‘When did he get back?’ She filled in her lips in a dusky rose, not meeting Evie’s eyes in the mirror. Her voice was soft and light, as if she was asking about the weather, but Evie still looked over at Chelsea and Mollie getting changed on the other side of the room, arguing over who got to wear the one decent skirt she had.

‘Last night. Turned up, put his muddy feet up on the coffee table and asked my mum what was for dinner.’ Evie felt a red hue glowing within her, pulsing and beating as if it was just waiting for the briefest spark to set it off. ‘Like he’d never left. And of course, she did what she was told.’

An hour or so later, necking the bottle of vodka Ruby had procured, they tumbled down the stairs to head off into town. There was some event on, a lame school disco or a youth club event, something that the do-gooder PTA hadn’t even considered might be destroyed by the Bad Girls off the Badgeley Estate.

‘Hey,’ a low, rusty voice called from the living room, ‘you goin’ out? Say goodbye to your old man.’

‘Yeah, who knows when you’ll be back again, right Bill?’ Evie said slowly, feeling the words slither out of her as she watched him. He was tall, her father, with a wide white smile and thick dark hair. He could win over the most stoic of hearts. Just not hers.

‘You know, Evelyn, I can’t tell if that’s you wanting me to fuck off, or saying that you miss me,’ he grinned and winked at her, before his eyes scanned the girls hovering behind her, roving across them in their skirts and heels, his eyes settling on Ruby.

‘Well, Ruby, Ruby Tuesday. Aren’t you looking grown-up?’ His voice took on a leer, and Evie felt her skin crawl, watching as he watched her friend. Ruby raised one perfectly drawn eyebrow and smirked.

‘If looking grown-up was all that mattered, life would be a lot more fun.’

Why? Why did Ruby have to play along? Why, for once, couldn’t she just tell the old pervert to go fuck himself? The minute someone showered her with attention, no matter what kind it was, she had to go along with it. Being wanted was her own personal addiction.

‘Come on girls, we’ll be late,’ Ruby said smoothly, turning on her heel, throwing a ‘see you later, Bill’ over her shoulder haphazardly.

Evie didn’t say anything, there was no point. She sat stiffly in the car, zoning out as Mollie made polite conversation to fill the awkward silence, her voice getting higher and more silly as each minute passed. When they got to the party, Evie downed drink after drink, in the hope that it would wash away that slimy feeling that seemed to infect her skin, as she thought about that look on her father’s face.

***

‘I’m just dropping off Ez!’ Evie yelled up as she thundered down the stairs the next morning, Esme waiting impatiently at the bottom for her.

‘Could we hurry up? Evelyn said eleven a.m.!’ Esme’s arms were crossed, and she tapped her toes in her pineapple-printed trainers pointedly.

‘Time is relative.’ Evie shrugged, kissing her cheek just to annoy her, ‘Coat?’

‘It’s a hundred degrees out!’ The child rolled her eyes and marched across the room.

‘Bag?’

Esme turned to show her empty backpack, ready to be filled with the books from their landlady’s library.

The door to the workshop creaked open, and Killian beamed out at her, running a hand through his hair.

‘Hey beautiful,’ He reached for her, but she stepped back, smiling apologetically.

‘Hi, sorry, have to take Esme to Evelyn’s…’ She pointed, already backing away towards the front door.

His face dropped, the smile settling into something more wary, ‘Well, wait one second, I’ll come with you–’

‘Sorry, Ez is in a ridiculous rush, aren’t you Ez?’

The little girl looked up at her, frowning. Something was going on, but she nodded anyway, ‘Yes, I was meant to be there five minutes ago but the
adults
are always late.’

Killian paused, tilting his head to look first at Esme, and then Evie, as if she was some peculiar puzzle, or rather, a piece that didn’t fit at all. ‘Okay… I’ll see you when you get back then?’

Evie looked around him, seeming to be looking at his cheekbones instead of making eye contact, ‘Yeah, sure.’

They charged to the front door, Evie noticing the torn letter on the side and stuffing it into her pocket, as Killian was left to stand and wonder what had suddenly changed.

***

‘Are you all right?’ Evelyn frowned at Evie, standing at the front door, hovering. Esme had already charged on through to the library, after accepting a hug from the older lady.

‘I… I don’t know,’ Evie shrugged, staring past her. She had a hundred things to do, and now her dad was back to make trouble. She couldn’t even predict what was going to happen. Sure, she could recognise his plays once he’d started, but Bill was adaptable. If a better con came along, he’d jump on that. She was surprised he hadn’t tried to make money from Ruby before. Although rock stars who’d died in mysterious circumstances were worth much more to the tabloids than when they were alive, she supposed.

‘Come in and have some tea,’ Evelyn held the door open, her eyes soft and kind, underneath a furrowed brow.

Evie shook her head, ‘Did Ruby ever mention a man named Bill Davis?’

Evelyn thought about it, but shook her head, ‘Never to me. But we both know there were a lot of men in her life. Who was he?’

‘A man saying he used to be her manager,’ Evie said shortly.

‘Well, what does he want?’

‘I don’t know yet,’ Evie sighed deeply, ‘and I’m worried about finding out.’

She shook her head, as if to awaken herself, and pulled down her sunglasses from atop her head, ‘I’m gonna go.’

‘Don’t. Stay here, talk to me.’ Evelyn reached out a hand, squeezing Evie’s briefly.

Evie tried for a smile, ‘Thanks, but I need to walk. I’ll pick her up in a couple of hours.’

The older lady nodded sadly, but paused as she was closing the door, ‘Darling, don’t try to do everything alone, okay?’

Evie shrugged, and just kept walking, a hand up in acceptance as she headed off down the street, her head lowered. She paused a few streets over, sat on a wall in front of a random house and took the letter out again. She read it a few times, feeling her hands start to shake until she screwed it up, then flattened it out in order to rip it into tiny pieces.

Bill fucking Davis. Daring to show up now, at the moment when she might finally get her life together. Days until the opening, and here he was again, turning up as and when he felt like it, just like her childhood. She remembered standing by her locker at the end of the day, when everyone else had long since disappeared at the sound of the bell. She’d just punched the locker, over and over again, the dull thud as her knuckles bounced off the thin sheet metal, denting it, a little more each time she hit, until eventually, she stopped, leaving a small but deep crater.

‘Why don’t you get angry at him?’
Ruby had said, shaking her head at her,
‘You’re angry at everything in the world except the one thing that makes you that way.’