![]() He escorted her all the way to Teddington, even though the driver could have dropped him off at his flat on the way. The dance floor was still going strong when Darren called a car - not any old taxi, but a limo with a driver in a peaked hat. They went into the disco and did a little dancing to 1980s music - Gladys remembered what the music execs had said about the 1980s not coming back anytime soon, and wondered if they really knew what they were talking about. ![]() Gladys ate scallops, followed by rack of lamb, and tiramisu. You’re all the more amazing because you’re just sixteen.” "Thank you so much," said Gladys, "It's really kind of you.” I can't promise anything, but I am sure they will at least see you. They manage musicians as well as actors and they have offices all over the world. "And when you get out of your contract, whether it's now, or a year from now, I'll introduce you to my agency. Gladys was enough of a businesswoman to see that Darren was talking good sense. In any case, he would realise that she was unhappy and he might try harder. He suggested that she simply write to the owner of her management company and ask to be released from her contact. "I noticed that," he said, glancing at her shoulder. ![]() She laughed and said that all she had got out of it thus far was a tattoo that she didn't want. She told him that she had been locked into a yearlong contract. Gladys felt comfortable talking about business. "Well not anymore, actually, but more to the point, have you still got that terrible agent?” “In any case,” added Gladys who had been reading the celebrity blogs, “You’ve got a girlfriend.” I wanted to say how much I like your music, and discuss if I can help your career.” I mean, rather I didn't mean to say that this is a date, but rather that it isn't, if you understand.”ĭarren did look a little surprised for just a moment. What I meant was I've never been out with anyone. "I'm only sixteen and this is my first date. "You know, there's something I probably ought to tell you," Gladys admitted, dipping her eyelids down shyly, and then looking up at him and appealing for sympathy. The barman asked her, "Still or sparkling Madam?" He had an ice bucket with a bottle of chilled white wine leaning in it, but she said that she didn't drink and asked for water. Did he really mean it? Did he know that if she wasn't actually a schoolgirl, she probably should still be one? Nobody had ever said anything like that to her. Oh no! He's even more famous, though I can't place his name he's so old that Dad would know it.” "Oooh," thought Gladys, "She's famous, I'd better not look. She walked through the club, trying not to stumble on her high heels, looking for Darren, and hoping that she did not seem to be celebrity spotting. "He's waiting at the bar for you," she said. The girl’s glacial blue eyes dipped momentarily to the laptop on her desk. "Darren Wolf has booked a table for two, I’m Gladys Jones.” She was beautiful, but she looked like the sort of girl who is afraid to smile in case she gets a wrinkle. There was nothing impressive about it, apart from a girl who sat behind a desk. "Good evening," he said, as he opened the door for her. Surely, nobody but a bouncer would wear leather gloves. He could have been a sportsman perhaps, or even an up and coming actor. His Italian suit fitted perfectly around his powerful shoulders. Anybody who was worthy of the name of "socialite" knew where it was.Ī very smart and good-looking man stood outside the door. It did not have to tout for custom however. Its entrance was just an ordinary door leading onto a pavement in Mayfair. The Rubies Club did not exactly advertise itself. "Is he a friend from school, love?" Asked Dad, who knew nothing about any film made more recently than about 1977. "Out to dinner with Darren Wolf,” replied Gladys coolly. It wasn't often that Dad complimented Gladys on her looks, but as she came down the stairs on the evening of her first ever date he said, "Wow! Where are you going honey?” "You can't be Miss Sensible for the rest of your life," said Sara. ![]() "I can't help being serious," said Gladys. All you have to do is sit and look pretty,” said Sara. She was quieter than usual as they took the bus home. The prospect of a posh dinner with somebody who is world-famous for being dishy is actually more nerve wracking than performing in front of a huge crowd. Gladys had discovered something surprising. Suddenly she looked something she had never seemed before: sophisticated. She overruled her friend and went with the shop assistant's advice. Sara suggested a purple dress but the shop assistant said that for a posh date, you can't go wrong with a little black number. For once, she did a sensible thing and asked Sara to come shopping with her. She decided that a date with a film star did call for something a bit special to wear.
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