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'All gone,' Joe muttered on a half-groan of relief. 'Carmen will
be back in a minute to smuggle you out. You won't be frightened, will you? The crowd is still out there, but you'll be okay.'
'What about you?'
'I'll hang on here for a while—most of them will go after a while.' He was talking slowly as if each word cost an effort from his tired brain.
Carmen came into the room. 'Ready?' she asked. Her face was pale now, and irritated, weariness hanging over her, too, and, when Quincy did not move immediately, she snapped: 'Well, come on, for heaven's sake! I haven't got all night!'
Quincy got up and Joe's hand briefly touched her fingers, the tiny contact making a spark leap between them, a flash of reassurance which she took with her during the frightening minutes while she and Carmen fought their way through the crush outside. Quincy had been disguised with dark glasses and a headscarf, but she was petrified by the noise and the sheer density of the crowd which pushed and struggled around the building. Policemen forced a way through to a car for them, they climbed in and drove away slowly until they were clear of the hall and fed into the London traffic going back towards the river.
'It's terrifying,' Quincy muttered, huddled into a corner of the back seat.
'You get used to it,' Carmen shrugged indifferently, but Quincy knew she never would—she marvelled to think of Joe facing scenes like this everywhere he went in the world. It must need great courage to walk out on to that stage each time. Having been through it with him tonight she could sympathise far more with his own need for some comforting contact afterwards, understanding fully what had made him come to her that night, in Lilli's flat. He had just done a series of concerts, he must have been totally flat, used up, half dead.
Lilli was in bed when she got back to the flat. She let herself in and went to bed, too. Nightmares kept waking her up—always the same, the crowded hall, the terrifying screams, the reaching, imploring hands from the dark. Each time she lay, trembling, in the darkness of the small bedroom, listening to her sister's rhythmic breathing, envying Lilli her ability to relax like that. How did Joe sleep after a performance? How long could he keep up tours like this one? He surely couldn't enjoy it?
She slept late next morning and found Lilli gone and the flat empty, for which she was rather thankful. She did not have the energy to talk to anyone this morning, she thought, sitting over her morning coffee in the silent room.
It was her last day in London—tonight she would be having dinner with Joe, followed by dancing at a small but exclusive night club, and tomorrow she was going home.
Perhaps it was because she was still tired after last night that she felt so depressed—ever since she came to London she had been wishing she was back home, yet this morning the prospect of returning did not make her want to dance and sing, it made her feel as though her heart was made of lead.
When the doorbell went she started violently, putting a hand to her head as it began to thud. Slowly she dragged herself to the door and opened it. Her spirits were not exactly lifted by finding her visitor was Carmen Lister, wearing a very chic dark grey two-piece suit of smooth woollen material under which a white lace blouse showed. Giving her a brisk smile, Carmen advanced, talking as she came. Quincy could see she was in a businesslike mood and that it would be a mistake to argue with any of the plans Carmen had made.
'Now, we have a lot to do today to get you ready for the evening. Beauty parlour again—hair, face, manicure. I'll come over an hour before Joe is to pick you up to make sure you're looking good. We'll be taking photographs throughout the evening.' She paused, eyeing Quincy impatiently. 'Well, aren't you ready? Come on, I haven't got all day, you know, you seem to have no sense of time at all.'
Dragged at Carmen's chariot wheels, Quincy was carried across London to the beauty parlour, left in the capable hands of the young man who had taken charge of her the first time, and after several hours was collected again by Carmen. At any other time, Quincy would have been able to enjoy the fun of it all, but she found it hard to enjoy the experience under Carmen Lister's contemptuous, dismissive eyes. Carmen made it too clear that she was trying hard to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.
The dress she was to wear that evening had been chosen by Carmen, and Quincy herself would never have thought of wearing anything so revealing or so daring. When she was dressed she stared at herself in the mirror, pink to her hairline. She could not go out like that! She felt half naked. Lilli wandered into the room and halted, whistling.
'Wow!'
Quincy gave her an anguished look. 'I can't wear it, Lilli! I feel so conspicuous!'
'Exposed would be a better word,' Lilli said, and laughed. Quincy did not think that was funny—it was too close to the truth.
The dress was made of a clinging white crepe and was seamless, one huge swathe of material which had been designed to flow over the body like a second skin. Her shoulders were quite bare, the bodice beginning with a fold of black and gold gauze around her breasts, skimming the smooth lift of her flesh just above the nipples, a matching belt of plaited black and gold around her waist, from which the white gown fell softly to her feet.
Quincy did not know herself as she gazed at her own reflection. The dress seemed to give her a height she had never seemed to have—the delicate, stiltlike black and gold plaited leather sandals she wore increased the impression. Her chestnut hair had been set in soft feathery layers which clung to her skull, emphasising the fine bone-structure of her flushed face, and her green eyes glittered between thick black lashes. Tonight Quincy looked tall and slender, elegant, very sophisticated.
'Stop worrying,' Lilli scolded, shaking her head with amused affection. 'You look terrific—what a marvellous dress! I couldn't believe my eyes when I came in just now—you're a real knock-out, you'll cause a sensation.'
'I don't want to cause a sensation!' wailed Quincy.
'Don't be an idiot! All you have to do is put your chin up, look as cool as a cucumber, and if you haven't got the self-confidence of a duchess tell yourself you have and you'll sail through the evening.'
'You're used to being stared at,' Quincy said gloomily. 'I'm not.'
'You can get used to anything,' her sister told her. 'Where's Joe Aldonez taking you, anyway?'
'The Ritz,' said Quincy, and Lilli whistled again, her face full of intrigued amusement.
'I wish I was going to be there to see it.'
'You'll probably see the photographs,' Quincy said, her mouth turning down at the edges. 'Carmen Lister and her photographer are coming everywhere with us, it seems.'
'How romantic,' Lilli said drily. 'Hardly a candlelit dinner for two, then, is it? More like a circus.'
