Page 117 of Under Your Spell

‘In a minute.’ Ripp disentangles himself and holds out a hand to help me up. ‘Why are you sitting out here on the pavement?’

‘There’s been a mix-up with the tickets. I couldn’t get in,’ I say, trying to ignore the death stares the woman he’s with is sending me.

‘Oh, now, that won’t do,’ Ripp tuts. ‘Why don’t you come in with me?’

‘Do you have a ticket?’ I ask.

He lifts his eyebrows. ‘I’m Ripp Harris; I don’t need a ticket. I’ll just ask them to let you in.’

I scoff at that, dart another look at his date, which Ripp follows. For a moment I think he’s going to suggest bringing her too, but clearly he’s trying to make a go of this whole parenting thing.

‘Sorry, love.’ Ripp turns to her. ‘Looks like I’ve had a better offer. We’ll do it another night, yeah?’

Her mouth drops open. ‘Are you being serious?’ she screeches.

‘I need to spend the evening with my best girl.’ Ripp beams winningly at me, and I think in his universe this is an act of good parenting – choosing me over a date with a woman ten years my junior. I suppose he is turning down a shag for me. Not that I want to think about that.

‘I cannot believe you are doing this, Ripp! We’re done!’ The blonde is quivering with rage.

‘Now, don’t overreact, Carlie…’ Ripp soothes.

‘It’s Marley,’ Marley snarls.

‘Course it is,’ Ripp agrees. ‘Here,’ he says, reaching in his pocket for his wallet to pull out a fat wad of bank notes. ‘Why don’t you call the girls, go have a night out on me. You deserve it, and there’s no sense denying London the sight of you looking gorgeous in that dress, is there? I’ll call you in the morning.’

Marley’s face softens as she plucks the money from his hands. ‘Fine,’ she says, treating me to another glare (fair enough I suppose, though I think my father is the one who deserves it more). ‘But you’ll be making this up to me for a long time, Ripp.’

‘You know how much I love making things up to you.’ Ripp kisses her on the cheek and she giggles. I think my hangover is back.

With Marley disposed of, Ripp gives me his full attention. ‘Shall we?’ he asks.

He saunters round to the stage door where the men in suits are still holding back the crowd. Something in the way he moves has the crowd splitting before him, and I hear someone hiss, ‘Holy shit, is that Ripp Harris?’

‘Hey, Tony!’ Ripp exclaims, moving towards one of the surly-looking men, all smiles.

An answering grin breaks on Tony’s face. ‘Mr Harris,’ he booms from about seven feet up. ‘Didn’t know we’d be seeing you tonight.’

‘Well, Tone, strictly speaking we’re not on the list, but I was just passing by with my daughter,’ he gestures to me. ‘She’s a pal of Theo’s so we thought she could drop in and surprise him.’

‘Not on the list?’ Tony frowns.

‘I’m supposed to be on a list,’ I say a bit desperately. ‘My name’s Clemmie. My sister, Serena Ojo-Harris? She works for EMC.’

Tony lifts the tablet he’s holding, and flicks across the screen. ‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Not on here.’

Ripp has been distracted, signing an autograph. ‘It’s all right, Tony. She can come in with me, can’t she?’

Tony’s gaze flickers between us as more people start pressing forward. Camera phones start flashing. ‘Yeah, no worries, Mr Harris,’ Tony says. ‘If she’s with you, that’s fine.’

So, it seems I’m bringing my mostly estranged father along to my romantic gesture. This is officially the most bizarre experience of my life, so I suppose it’s fitting.

‘Cheers, Tone, give my love to Roberta and the kids, won’t you?’ Ripp sings cheerily as we sail past, and through to a badly lit corridor.

‘Right,’ Ripp says, rubbing his hands together and sniffing the air like a bloodhound. ‘Follow me.’ We begin to wind our way through the halls, past dressing rooms and what looks like a green room where several bored-looking men and women in suits are clacking on their phones.

Loud music fills the air, and I realize with a sinking heart that Theo is already on stage. ‘We’re too late. He’s already started. I think we’d better just find somewhere to wait for him when he comes off,’ I say nervously.

‘Don’t be daft,’ Ripp says, getting in the spirit of things now. I know the look on his face. The buzz of being at a gig, the sound of the live music, the smell of sweat and beer… he’s in his element. ‘Don’t you want to see what he can do? Follow me.’