My meeting in the dingy Soho backstreet office went well. At least I hoped it had. Mr Collins, or Gerald, as he’d insisted I call him, assured me he could find me work.
‘It won’t be as exciting as you might think,’ he said, eyeing me up and down after I’d finished my brief audition. ‘And I want you to have a few photos taken to, you know, show off different aspects of your, um, personality. Then I’m certain I’ll find you something.’ He hesitated. ‘In the meantime, you’ll need to find a job to tide you over.’
‘Oh.’ I couldn’t hide my disappointment. I’d expected him to send me off to one of the impressive theatres in London with a note in my hand to start work immediately. Fool. I recalled my mother’s high-pitched voice mocking me about the lacklustre future she swore would be mine.
‘You’ll end up back here within a month,’ she’d warned, a spiteful gleam in her eyes. ‘Then you can get yourself down to the leather factory, like your sister and me, and forget about all this nonsense.’
Gerald shook his head. ‘You girls, you’re all the same; dreamers, the lot of you.’ He wrote a few notes on the pad on his large oak desk. Picking up a business card from a small holder, he turned it over and scribbled a name and address. Handing it to me, he said, ‘A friend of mine runs this club, she’ll give you work, but she’ll expect you to turn up looking immaculate at all times.’
I forced a smile, relieved not to have to resort to waitressing in the grubby café where Hazel spent so much of her time working for a pittance. ‘Thank you.’
He picked up a fat cigar, clipped one end off and rolled it between his index finger and thumb as he held it up to his ear. Satisfied, he placed it in his mouth and flicked a gold lighter, puffing away on the cigar to light it. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to leave, so waited for him to speak.
‘You haven’t seen the place yet.’ He laughed. ‘I’ll get word to you if anything comes up, but if you don’t hear from me before, pop back next Monday morning. We’ll chat again then.’
‘Yes, Mr Collins,’ I said, hypnotised by the swirling thick smoke above his desk. ‘I mean, Gerald.’
He rubbed his jowly chin. ‘If I do get you some acting work, you’re going to have to change your name. Mimi just doesn’t sound professional enough.’
‘My real name is Maureen,’ I said. ‘Will that do? I’m willing to change it to anything you like.’
‘I’ll give it some thought.’ He looked me up and down. ‘How tall are you?’
‘Five feet seven.’
He made a note on the pad in front of him. ‘You could certainly play the cool blonde to perfection, if your acting skills are as good as I hope. You’ll be great playing the all-American girl. Since Michelle Pfeiffer and Heather Locklear became famous, there’s been a liking for others with those blonde, sporty looks. You’ll fit the part well.’
I couldn’t hide my delight. ‘I’d love that.’
‘Fine.’ He waved me away. ‘I’ll do my best.’
I thanked him, yet again, and hurried out. Relieved to be away from the smoky atmosphere, I leant against the office door to inspect his scrawl. I vaguely recognised the name of the club and wondered if I’d read about it in one of the society magazines.
Whatever this job was, it would be better than dragging myself back home. These might be small steps, I decided, but it was infinitely better than working in the factory. Whatever my mother predicted about my future, I had no intention of ever going back, however desperate things got in London.
‘He must really like you,’ Hazel said, when I called in quickly for a cup of tea during her short break. ‘Vince never even introduced me to Mr Collins.’ She stuck out her lower lip. ‘I can’t help being a teeny bit jealous of you. You’ve only just arrived and already you’re on your way.’
‘I am, aren’t I?’ I said, not feeling as positive as I was making out. ‘And it’s all down to you, Hazel. If you hadn’t taken me with you to meet Vince I wouldn’t be about to go and get a job in a glamorous club.’
She gave me a smile that bordered on a grimace. ‘Yeah, cool.’
‘But that’s nothing more than a bathing suit,’ moaned a tall girl next to me in the scruffy room that only had one mirror and a couple of working bulbs either side of it that was supposedly our dressing room. She glowered at me when I didn’t back her up to the blousy manageress. ‘We’re supposed to be cocktail waitresses.’
‘Some of you are.’ The manageress studied the prospective employees lined up in front of her, the black-painted sweep above her large eyes adding to her menacing gaze. It was hard to know what she really looked like under all her make-up. She was terrifying, but I was certain her elaborate dress must have cost a fortune. However much this wasn’t what I’d hoped for, I decided I couldn’t afford to knock back the only job I’d been offered.
I smiled at her. ‘Do we all have to wear the costumes?’ I asked, indicating two other girls in bright cocktail dresses.
‘Not everyone,’ she said, sizing me up. ‘Everyone starts the same way, as a waitress. If I see something in you I like, a spark, you’ll soon be promoted.’ She nodded sagely. ‘You’ll be allowed to mix with the clientele if that happens, and yes, you’ll be given a cocktail dress to wear.’
I would simply have to ensure I was promoted then, and soon. I’d heard about Hollywood producers coming to these nightspots and meeting waitresses they then turned into the ‘next big thing’. If I wanted to look the part when I met this miraculous person, I was going to need the right dress. This was the only way I could think of where I’d get the chance to do both. Hazel would be so envious.
After two nights doing my best to be sparkly and glamorous at the club, I wasn’t sure if Hazel could ever be persuaded to swap places with me. The hours were long, and it was a constant battle to avoid the sweaty hands that grabbed whatever part of me they could reach as I passed or stop to serve drinks. I was beginning to think that maybe I wasn’t going to stick it out. On the third night, just as I was giving a particularly revolting customer a pinch on his flabby hand, I looked up and saw Vince leaning against the bar watching me. He smiled, his amusement at my retaliation to the hand obvious on his handsome face.
Determined not to reveal my delight at seeing him there, I stuck my nose in the air and walked up to the bar. I placed my tray down near to him ready for the barman to reload it with fresh cocktails.
‘I didn’t know you frequented this place,’ I said, trying my best to sound as mature as possible.
‘I don’t very often, but I thought I’d better check up on my protégée.’
I couldn’t help beaming at him, all thoughts of acting cool in front of him vanishing at his words. It felt good to belong even in a tiny way to someone other than my family. I was about to say something, when I noticed his attention being drawn away from me. Jealous, I turned to see who it could be. It was a man. I couldn’t miss the dark shadows under his eyes, his expression wretched. He averted his gaze and stared at the floor.
I glanced at Vince. He was still, like a cat deciding whether to pounce on its prey. His eyes narrowed. A chill ran down my spine at the force of his stare. Sobered by his reaction, I realised then that Vince wasn’t a man to cross. Which was just as well, because I would be heartbroken to be on the receiving end of such cold disdain. I determined never to give him cause to be angry with me.
The power Vince exuded that made people revere him somehow increased his appeal to me. I’ve no idea why. I imagined being on his arm, the two of us posing for photos on a red carpet at my first movie premiere. Him with his muscular arm around my shoulders, me with a ten-carat diamond solitaire on my engagement finger. Flashbulbs exploding in front of us as they took our photo.
‘You okay?’ he asked, his attention back on me once more.
I realised I’d been daydreaming. ‘Sorry.’ I blushed, hoping he couldn’t guess what had been going through my mind. ‘Who was that man?’
‘No one you need to worry about.’ He raised his right hand and moved his thumb lightly over my heavily made-up cheek. ‘You look much older with this slap on your face.’
‘You don’t approve?’ I asked, panic surging through me.
‘Of you looking older?’ He scanned the room. ‘I couldn’t care.’ My mood plummeted. I had angered him, and I wanted to cry. ‘Of you wearing this gunk on your face?’ He studied me briefly. ‘You’re far prettier without it.’
I was barely able to hide my relief. I beamed at him. ‘Really?’
Soothed by his assurances, I put my shoulders back, standing proud. I wanted him to approve of me. I tilted my head in what I hoped was a coquettish way, and smiled at him.
He smiled. ‘You’re gorgeous, do you know that?’
‘Yes,’ I fibbed.
He lowered his voice and leaned closer to me. ‘Good girl, not letting that creep touch you up. You look out for yourself. I wasn’t sure if the clientele at this place might be a little too full on for you, but seeing you in action puts my mind at ease.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ I insisted, loving his protectiveness over me.
‘You get any problems,’ he lifted my chin with his finger, ‘you tell me, and I’ll have a word with them.’
‘Okay, Vince.’
‘Promise me, Mimi,’ he said, his beautiful eyes seemingly boring into my soul.
‘I promise,’ I said, my stomach contracting under his focus. My heart pounded when he leaned closer, grazing his lips against my cheek. At that moment I would have agreed to anything.
‘Good girl. You’re special and I’ve got big plans for your future. How about coming out with me tomorrow afternoon? I’m testing out my new Ferrari. Have you ever been in one?’
I shook my head.
‘Good, then you can come with me to the country. Maybe I can buy you a little treat of some kind.’
I couldn’t believe someone as handsome as Vince was taking me out. I imagined us together in his flash sports car, a silk scarf tied around my hair as we raced along the lanes. I didn’t own a scarf, but it was enough to dream. Maybe I could ask him to buy one for me.
My heart pounded with excitement, but before I could think of a response the manageress came over. She gave me a withering look before kissing him firmly on the lips. She made her point only too clearly. I took a breath to speak, when I saw him watching me over her shoulder. He winked at me, soothing my irritation with her slightly.
When she stepped back from him, he said, ‘Greta, you’re looking glorious as ever. I was just telling your waitress here how you make all the difference to this place.’
She ignored me, but pouted at him. ‘You’re a liar, Vincent Black, but a charming one.’ Then giving me a sideways glance, she added, ‘If my waitress doesn’t get a bloody move on, she’s going to be looking for another job tomorrow morning.’
‘Sorry, Miss,’ I said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. I bobbed a curtsey. Vince widened his eyes, but I could see the amusement in them. ‘I was waiting for my tray to be filled.’
She glared at me through her thick false eyelashes. ‘Remember, you don’t mix with the clientele until you’re one of my hostesses.’
Vince took her by the arm. ‘Come on, Greta, stop worrying about your girls, for once. Join me for a drink. We haven’t caught up with each other for months. I’ve missed you.’
I watched them walk away, her rounded hips swaying from side to side as Vince whispered something in her ear. She threw her head back and shrieked with laughter. My chest constricted. It was all I could do not to grab a nearby glass and aim it at her head. Her hand stroked his lower back and rested on his buttocks. I wondered if they had ever been lovers. If they were lovers now.
‘You can cut that crap out for a start.’
I immediately turned my attention to the middle-aged barman. ‘What did you say?’
Wiping a glass with his tea towel, he motioned towards Vince and Greta. ‘You shouldn’t get on the wrong side of either of those two,’ he whispered, shaking his head. ‘You’ll live to regret it if you do.’
I looked back at the pair of them deep in conversation in a burgundy velvet booth to one side of the club. I was sick of everyone treating me like some country kid who barely knew how to tie her own shoelaces. I was tougher than I looked and one day I would prove it to them all. I glowered at the barman in silence, watching him make a couple of cocktails. He pulled the lid off the cocktail shaker and poured the pink liquid into two glasses.
‘Just be careful.’ He wiped the bottom of one of the glasses where he’d spilt a few drops before loading them onto my tray. ‘You’re new around here. You don’t know the ropes. Take it a little easy until you do.’ He held up a glass to one of the mounted optic dispensers at the side of the bar. ‘Don’t look now, but Greta’s watching you,’ he warned, his lips barely moving. ‘Get a bloody move on, or she’ll have you out that door. I mean it, kid. Watch out for yourself. Do your job, bugger off straight home afterwards, and you’ll be okay.’
I picked up my tray carefully. I might be irritated, but I didn’t fancy having to pay for a round of expensive, spilt cocktails. ‘I’m not as soft as I look,’ I said, glaring at him briefly before walking away. ‘That old cow doesn’t scare me.’
‘Well, she bloody well should, and what’s more, so should he.’