Chapter Six
The house looked very welcoming - a warm amber glow shone from the downstairs windows. Ty led the way up the drive and rapped on the front door which was promptly opened by Dudley. He stood there grinning at us in his blue checked shirt and black jeans.
“My first guests!” he bellowed theatrically. “Welcome!”
The door led straight into a large, dimly lit, brown-walled, open-plan area containing a large dining table and a huge, black, squishy, curved settee. On the right were wooden stairs and at the rear of the large area was a beautiful modern honey beige kitchen and patio doors. Wow! This wasn’t at all what I was expecting as the house looked so ordinary from the outside. I was also surprised how spick and span the place looked. I was expecting a right dump. The walls were hung with gold discs and photographs. It looked gorgeous. Blaring out from four speakers high in each corner of the huge room was Dudley’s own voice singing one of his hits - Kinky Cassandra.
Dudley led us to the kitchen area. “Help yourselves to drinks and nibbles!” he said, gesturing toward the kitchen bar.
I helped myself to a lemonade and a handful of salted peanuts. Everyone else had the sparkling wine and filled their paper plates with food. Suki and I walked around, browsing the framed photos as we sipped our drinks. These confirmed what I already knew - Dudley was in love with Dudley! He was in every single bloody photo and there must have been at least fifty of them in total - Dudley singing into the mic, Dudley playing guitar, Dudley shaking hands with royalty, Dudley with his ex-wife and kids, Dudley posing with the Mothballs cast, Dudley signing autographs … His landlord wasn’t going to be very happy with the state of the walls when he moved out. Then another Dudley song began playing. My guess was no other artists were going to get a look in, he’d be playing his own tunes until the last guest left.
Then some tarty blonde with a plastic surgery face arrived, followed by a large group of actors and a couple of backstage staff. Suki and I helped ourselves to another drink and sat down on the squishy black sofa whilst there was still room.
“Still not heard from Nutty?” Suki asked.
I took a gulp of lemonade. “I’m afraid not.”
“I suppose he’s busy making the video.”
“Shooting doesn’t start until tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry …” she began, but then became distracted. She was staring at the main door, looking shocked.
Lighting technician Jim had arrived arm in arm with a plump, plain woman with a fringed brown bob. After Dudley greeted them, they strolled to the kitchen area, piled two plates ridiculously high with food and grabbed a can of lager each before sitting together at the dining table. They were all over each other. Then we noticed a wedding ring on her finger.
“Men, eh?” I said, flabbergasted.
Suki bowed her head. “I can’t understand why he kept going out of his way to come through the office to see me if he wasn’t interested.”
“He’s just a weirdo. You can do much better than that anyway. I don’t know what you saw in the potato-headed freak.”
Suki giggled. “Potato-headed! I guess you’re right.”
“That’s the spirit!”
“But my parents always told me looks don’t matter - it’s what’s inside that counts.”
“Yeah - they’re right, to a degree.”
“What matters is that they’re a nice person.”
“Fair enough, but Jim’s hardly a nice person - leading you on when he was happily married to plain Jane over there.”
“True,” Suki agreed.
Then Dudley’s biggest ever hit - Summer Heat - began playing and half the room cheered then got up and danced, much to Dudley’s delight. He wobbled his head cockily as he watched them making fools of themselves. I was very impressed with Carl Zimmerman’s dancing though, considering the man was about eighty-years-old. He could still boogie better than some teenagers. And I laughed as I watched theatre manager Peter comically hand jiving with his boyfriend Larry. What a pair of characters! I was also surprised by Dudley. He was very well behaved for once - no roving eye and no chatting up or dancing with women. I wondered if he’d caught a sexually transmitted infection or something. Perhaps the encounter he’d had with Rose and her husband earlier that evening had shaken him.
Tracy tottered up to me. “Let’s have a dance!” she said in her annoying, squeaky voice.
“I’m tired,” I said. “I don’t want to lose my seat.”
“You sound like an old woman!” she squeaked, before dancing back to Ty, who was skanking around looking very drunk. He bumped into Dudley, spilling Dudley’s drink. A few more people arrived and I noticed flabby Jim’s wife was now sitting cosily on his knee. The pair of them looked in my direction. Not wanting him to think I was bothered, I quickly looked away and sipped my drink.
Then a group of boisterous young men arrived. I didn’t recognise any of them from the theatre, but Dudley greeted them all with enthusiasm. Suki immediately straightened up, smiled and started grooming her hair with her fingers. The men cracked open a can of lager each and gathered together by the kitchen bar joking, laughing, shoving each other, guzzling their drinks and watching the ladies. Suki wasted no time, she stood up and made her way to the group, ignoring Jim and his wife as she passed them. I was left alone on the end of the sofa feeling like a spare part.
I took out my phone again, stalking social media and googling Nutty and Miss Silky for anything which might give something away. Then my phone died, so I was left twiddling my thumbs whilst Suki chatted up five men at once. I saw Jim looking. Good for her! One lad appeared to be particularly interested in her. The feeling seemed to be mutual and they chatted and laughed happily together for quite some time. The boy was stocky with short, wavy dark hair and above average looks. Not my type, but he looked much more suitable than some of the oddballs she’d fancied since I’d met her. Then Suki noticed me looking dejected and brought him over to meet me.
“This is Cliff!” she said, looking as though she’d just won the lottery.
“Very pleased to meet you!” Cliff said, shaking my hand vigorously. “Want some gum?”
“Don’t mind if I do!” I beamed, reaching into the packet. Then there was a snapping sound. I jumped and winced in pain. The little sod had tricked me with one of those fake gum finger trap contraptions. I removed the thing from my finger and narrowed my eyes at the scoundrel.
“Gotcha!” Cliff grinned. “Have some real gum.” He pulled another pack from his pocket.
“No thanks!” I said angrily.
He offered it to Suki, who took some - no finger trap this time, but I should have guessed what was coming next. Suki pulled a face, spat the gum out, and fanned her mouth, practically crying in pain.
“Greedy, greedy!” Cliff taunted. “Serves you right for taking my last gum.”
Suki ran to the kitchen area and downed a glass of water. The bastard had pranked her with hot pepper gum. That gal really knew how to pick ‘em!
She obviously forgave him though, as the pair then exchanged phone numbers before dancing together to another cheesy Dudley song called Travelling the World and Loving it. I’d have avoided him like the plague from then on. He seemed like a right childish git.
I checked my watch, it was half past midnight. I couldn’t see any point in sitting there on my own feeling miserable any longer, so I approached Suki, explained my phone had died, and asked if she’d call a cab for me.
“Sure!” she said without a care.
She called the cab and I stood staring miserably out the window for ages as I waited for it to arrive. Then Tracy tapped me on the shoulder, making me jump.
“Ready to dance now?” she asked.
“I’ve got to be up early,” I replied. “I’m waiting for a cab.”
“Suit yourself,” she squeaked. “Give my love to Nutty!”
“Will do,” I said, not meaning one letter of it.
Finally, a pair of bright headlights appeared,
beaming through the fog. I looked over at Suki. She was now kissing Cliff, so I left them to it and slipped out the door to the very weird sound of Dudley’s We Walk Amongst Synthesizers, from the notoriously bad Plastic Automaton album - Dudley’s first, and hopefully last, attempt to revive nineteen-eighties synth pop. I knew the tune well, as Mum and I had played the album about five times in a row for amusement over the internet only a couple of weeks previously.
As I got into the cab, a petite figure emerged from the house and waved wildly. The driver rolled down the window.
It was Suki. “Wait for me!” she shouted. She hopped inside. “Mind if I share?”
“Of course not,” I said, glad she hadn’t forgotten me. “You were snogging Cliff - I didn’t like to interrupt.”
“I was kissing him goodbye.”
“Are you seeing him again?” I asked, as the taxi backed up Dudley’s drive and set off.
“Yep!” she said excitedly. “I’ll phone him tomorrow, if he doesn’t ring me first.”
“He seemed like bit of a nutter,” I said. “What does he do?”
“Art student,” Suki said proudly.
“Really?” I said as the taxi stopped at a set of traffic lights at the end of a road full of takeaway restaurants.
“And stop worrying about Nutty,” Suki said. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”
“Hope so,” I said glumly.
The cab turned into my apartment block carpark. I opened my handbag.
“I’ll pay!” Suki said. “You can buy me a coffee!”
“OK then. See you tomorrow!”
The driver waited until I got safely inside the building before zooming away. I climbed the stairs apprehensively, still worrying about Nutty and the tart. I stepped into the flat. Mum was asleep, snoring loudly. She’d left my bedroom light on for me. Quick as a flash, I plugged my charger into my phone. The second the phone came back to life, I went straight into Twitter. There were no new entries on Nutty’s page and he hadn’t sent me any texts or private messages. Then I stalked Miss Silky’s page and my face fell in horror.