Stairway to Hell by Charlie Williams

Stairway to Hell by Charlie Williams

Author:Charlie Williams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Profile Books
Published: 2000-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


20.

When I say bustled, my forced entrance into the limousine was not a violent one. Far from it. The chauffeur – as he turned out to be – had a firm grip but it was a respectful one, like he was protecting me from some danger I didn’t yet know about. By the time I’d processed what was going on the door was shut, he was back up front and the limo was gliding through traffic like a shark through crowded waters.

‘Mr Marino,’ he said in answer to my question. ‘He wait for you.’

‘Oh,’ I said. To be honest I was a bit surprised. Not that I’d been expecting to get hijacked into a limousine by anyone, but as soon as it had started happening I’d thought it was one of Zak Bremner’s people. I thought he’d read the song, listened to it in his head and phoned for his man to get me before I got away...because my lyrics were pure gold and he wanted to sign me as his exclusive songwriter.

But I was a singer more than a songwriter, and I wasn’t going to be in anyone’s shadow. Mind you, it was an interesting proposition and I’d have to think about it.

‘Mr Marino, eh?’ I said, ‘How do you know who I am, though? I mean, grabbing me like that. You might have had the wrong person.’

‘I hold up the sign. He say ‘SUNTAN’. You come to me. That is how it work.’

‘A sign?’

‘Yes.’

I didn’t remember seeing that, but I supposed he must be right. It’s hard to disagree with anything when your buttocks are being massaged by some expensive leather upholstery, your soul being soothed by a quality audio system (playing ‘Since We’ve Been Together’ by Al Green) and a drinks cabinet being popped out of nowhere.

‘You help self,’ he said, giving me a friendly wink in the rearview. ‘Enjoy ride.’ I think he was foreign.

I was enjoying it. I mixed myself a Sunrise and sat back, watching the pedestrians outside. Traffic was murder in this part of town and we spent a lot of time waiting at lights, but that’s the bit I enjoyed the most. People couldn’t stop staring, you see. One glance at a stretch limo and they’ve got to know who’s inside, because you can bank on it that it’s someone special. Some of them even came right up to the glass and peered in. I raised my glass and drank to them, but they couldn’t see me. I was on one side and they were on the other. I really felt like it’s where I belonged.

‘Hang on,’ I said, ‘this ain’t the way to the Miramar.’

‘No, you not go to Miramar. Mr Marino want you at private residence.’

‘Oh yeah? Why’s that? I mean, I thought he wanted to see how my voice came across with the Miramar acoustics?’

‘I just take order, Mr Suntan,’ he said, turning a sharp right and almost clipping the heel of a young mum pushing a pram. I turned and watched her shouting after us, hate on her face and a foul word on her young lips.



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