A Hopeless Romantic by Harriet Evans

Author:Harriet Evans
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2006-03-14T05:00:00+00:00

chapter twenty-seven

T he clock ticked on, nearer the time she’d be able to get away, go back home, while Laura nodded and smiled and said things like “Yes, I love rugby” to Ludo and “Yes, I love sushi” to Lulu. Annabel held court at one end of the table, ignoring George and batting her lashes at Cedric in an alarming way. Cedric, in turn, was making overt eyes at Mary, who was frankly not repelling them as she might, while Robert was locked deep in conversation with Jasper, expounding upon the art market and its relative value in recent months. Jasper’s eyes were drooping, and he stifled a yawn. Ludo and Fran joined in—they knew someone, a guy who’d been traveling, who’d taken some really wonderful wildlife photos in Africa, he should contact Jasper, shouldn’t he? Wasn’t Jasper’s gallery looking for young new photographers, too?

When the conversation moved on to Lulu’s latest career path—in this case, her burning desire to be a singer-songwriter—Laura tried not to let her incipient hysteria overwhelm her.

“So, what kind of thing…” Angela asked politely, piling up the bowls.

“Lululu’s had a lot of interest already, haven’t you, Lulu?” said Annabel, a fond smile cracking across her wintry expression. “She made a demo tape—that’s a demonstration of her songs, Mary. At her friend Barrett’s house. Some record producers are very interested, apparently. She’ll have to pick and choose who she goes with.”

“It’s like—it’s kind of my own stuff, my own message?” said Lulu, coming alive a little. “Like—like Dido, but she’s so kind of…you know, commercial. Really hackneyed. It’s sad, really. I don’t want to be a sellout, you know. I just wanna do my own stuff, really say something with it. Stuff…that’s happened to me. Really personal stuff, you know. Just for me, not for anyone else.”

“So—you don’t want to sell any copies,” said Laura acidly, as Angela disappeared into the kitchen, followed by Jasper and Cedric.

“Yeah, of course I do. Obviously, if people like me…” She smiled coyly. “But”—Lulu’s eyes glazed over, and she ran her finger around the rim of her glass so it made a chalky, whining sound—“I don’t want to be on Top of the Pops or any of that shit. I don’t want to be on magazine covers. I really don’t want that stuff. I just want to write, songs and stuff?”

“Right,” said Laura. The sound of Lulu’s long fingers on the glass was excruciating. “So, who’s asked you to be on the cover of a magazine, then?”

“No one,” said Lulu, staring at her as if she were talking to a moron. “I just won’t do it when they do ask.”

“Right,” said Laura, getting up. She said in a friendly tone, “I really hope no one’s interested, then. Good luck, fingers crossed for you.”

“How’s the job, Laura?” Annabel called from the other end of the table. “I’ve hardly said two words to you so far. How is everything? Mum says she hasn’t seen much of you lately.”

“I didn’t say that,” said Mary patiently.

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