Professional Excellence Ch. 11

Monty pointed at the door after speaking and we waited until we could no longer hear Stuart's footsteps before we started.

'Please don't tell me there are more problems?'

'No don't worry. We're likely to need some electrical stuff that's all. I don't mind paying against receipts if that's easier for you.'

'That'd be wonderful.'

'Second, George and Charlie.'

'What have they done? Stuart's been giving me a running commentary on their incompetence since I left you.'

'Nothing. They're both great additions to the team. Its just that we need them both until we've finished this evening and until the end of the show tomorrow. I can negotiate decent compensation to keep them on board, if you like, but we must have them.'

'Would you do that? Then I can just tell Stuart its all taken care of. That man is ageing me significantly.'

'That's partly why I'm here. Lastly, if I were you I'd call Thurstons - they're still your accountants, aren't they? - and ask them to arrange for anyone working on this thing to be paid directly.'

'Why so? Doesn't the hotel just invoice us?'

'They will, but I'll bet you a pound to a penny they'll be inflating the labour cost per hour and keeping however much over they're gouging from you for themselves.'

''I've heard that happens. But it sounds an awful lot of fuss. I don't know if I'll have time.'

'I'll call Howard if you like.'

'You know him?'

'We may have met, in circumstances I'm not prepared to discuss. Just as I wouldn't discuss you, with him, if he asks.'

'I'll text him and tell him to expect your call. Anything else?'

'Very lastly, we're about to have a tea break. Please come and join us, you look like you need a rest.'

'A tea break? You know, I haven't had one of those for years. I remember this time, it was in...'

'If you're coming, stick your head round the kitchen door and tell them to add an extra mug to the ballroom order. Then pick up the keys from the manager and send Stuart somewhere a long way away. We don't want that little weasel interrupting us.'

'Expect me imminently.'

'And Monty.'

'Yes.'

'Please just sit and listen. We'll need to get back to work when we've finished our tea.'

'This is exactly why I need you on my team Monique. You keep me from waffling and messing things up.'

'Forget it.'

'Wilco. Over and out.'

He scurried away. I wandered back to the ballroom thinking about Monty.

Monty was rich. Very rich. And about to become astronomically so. Michael and I had met him on a quiet night in the Royal's Hideaway bar. He'd become fascinated by Michael's tricks and our sparring double-act. He'd been in town scouting out a business opportunity at an about-to-go-bust food processing plant. I offered him the opportunity to sample my professional services and we'd parted with me several hundred pounds the richer.

Frankly, neither Michael nor I expected anything to come of the theatrical offer. I doubted he'd want to see me again in my other capacity either after the difficult time I'd given him in his room. But Monty was dogged despite his lackadaisical exterior and, well, here we are. I was his dominatrix/life coach and Michael was about to become a star.

Partly to give himself some cover for his visits, Monty had eventually bought the plant and set up a line producing vegan ready meals. Since then - and it was barely more than six months - production had grown exponentially. He had just signed large contracts with three major supermarket chains. His foods were beginning to get positive write-ups in the posh papers. Veganism was the new new-thing that every hack wanted to Twitter about.

He'd been pestering me and, to a lesser extent Michael, to throw in our current work and join his company in senior positions. He was a big one for spotting individual talent. I quite liked the image of Michael as the vegan Vlad the Impaler, running the place with a rod of iron. But there was no way I was getting involved. He'd been talking increasingly large salaries, all of which I'd rebuffed. I did double my fee for my dominatrix services, a fee he promptly doubled again.

The expected explosion in his wealth was the reason for his investment in the show. He didn't want a return, he just wanted it to be good. The normal Gentlemen's Evening was pretty standard fare: a blue comedian telling jokes about blondes with IQs lower than their bust sizes and a couple of strippers. Howard and David had been attending them for years so I was familiar with the format. Monty had initially wanted to drop the strippers altogether - he was soon disabused of that idea, lodge president or not. He'd held his ground on Holly Berries with the support of members' wives. His idea of at-table entertainment - an origamist, micro-juggler and palmist as well as Michael and I - was still viewed cynically and sceptically from what I could tell. I did know that as compère I'd have to be good or Monty would never live it down.

I like watching men when they think they're unobserved, so I stopped at the door. Charlie was tousling George's hair and they were both laughing at some remark Michael had made. He wasn't laughing, he was Michael. They straightened up and looked shy when they heard me coming and a bit narked when I told them I'd invited Monty to join. I told them to play nice and that I'd deal with Monty if he started babbling. When the man himself came in carrying the tray of teas and a packet of biscuits, they did try. But it was stilted despite their best efforts.

'Charlie and George, we need to talk to you about your hours and pay.'

They both started looking wary.

'Basically, you've got us over a barrel. We need you both for as much of today and tomorrow as you're willing to work.'

Charlie grunted and looked at his watch.

'How do you feel about overtime, Charlie?'

'I take all I can get, but normally they beg me all ends up to do it, then it takes me three months hassling payroll before I see any of the money. Its the wife's birthday tomorrow. I was going to take her out.'

'What if we pay you triple time, cash-in-hand, with a hundred quid goodwill payment and sign all your time sheets so anything you can get out of payroll is on top?'

'I could ask.'

He still sounded dubious.

'And if Mr Plimpton booked a table for four at whatever is the town's best restaurant for about nine thirty?'

'Tosca's.'

'Thanks Monty, I'm sure you'd be able to join her and her friends before they got to the brandies. What would she say then?'

'Will you marry me Mr Plimpton?'

That gave everyone a laugh, and Monty began to look more comfortable.

'Now George.'

'The same arrangements will be fine for me. Thank you.'

'No they won't.'

'Oh, well you can only try.'

'You're on zero-hours, I imagine.'

'Yes.'

'So any extra work you do will just be cut off your time next week? Right?'

'Usually.'

'And you're paid the under-25 wage?'

'Of course.'

'So quadruple your hourly rate is about the same as a couple of drinks at the bar here.'

'Probably.'

'So we'd better make your goodwill payment two hundred to make it worth your while.'

'OK?'

'You don't mind do you Charlie?'

He shook his head.

'It's the mums I feel sorry for.'

'Now you've lost me.'

'We've got two his age at home. No way they'll ever earn enough to be independent. No wonder they're so pissed off all the time.'

'My mum's on her own, Mr Plimpton, she'd be happy to marry you next weekend if you're on the market.'

'Thank you, George. I shall consider it. In the meantime, how does dinner for two for her and a friend sound?'

'She'd be getting measured for the dress.'

The men were impressed when Monty called the restaurant and immediately got two tables. Even more that he knew both their surnames. I sent them off to the electrical supplies warehouse with my credit card, pin, a string of threats as to what would happen if they tried to bilk me and a request for a special item for myself. I spent time talking to Howard about wages and chasing around getting details from personnel behind Stuart's back. After an hour he called me back to say he set up an agreement with a local bookkeeping firm to deliver cash in envelopes the next day as soon as I let him know how much. I missed him for a minute or two.

There was a frenzy of activity when the boys returned. There seemed to be wires, lights and black boxes of indeterminate purpose all over the place. If it was long, it was gaffer taped. If you could kick it, it had a rubber safety mat laid over it. I was regularly despatched to the rear of the room to judge lighting effects and explosions, dry ice and fans to disperse it.

It was a pleasure to be both busy and part of a team. Eventually Charlie took George to the lighting gantry. I wandered around the hall judging the spot combinations they were shining on the stage while Michael performed a few simple tricks. We needed a combination of clarity for us, the performers, without it being too harsh. Eventually we settled on a golden white. It looked lovely, it even made Michael look healthy.

Charlie followed me around the room with a spot keeping me at the centre of a bright pool. George was less accurate when he took over and Charlie adjusted the ambient light in the ballroom. We got together to talk about the results. The consensus was we'd had a spot problem. Everyone knew, including the man himself, that George was the issue. No one blamed him, it was his first go after all. We looked to Charlie for a lead.

He laid out a complicated plan. First he wanted to move the electronics desk up to the gantry. It basically controlled the bangs and the stage lights. Then he wanted to operate a two spot system.

'I've done the spotlights for strippers at these gigs before. You really need two to show them to best advantage.'

'Strippers?'

'Is that a problem George?'

'No, its just I've never seen a stripper before, Monique.'

We all looked at each other. Michael said what we were all thinking.

'Then we've got a problem.'

'Why? I'll still do my job.'

'Course you will, George. I'm not saying that. Its just you'll also be walking around with an enormous hard on and every available brain cell will be calculating how much you'd like to fuck 'em.'

'It's not a criticism. I was just the same at your age. But our job here is to concentrate on making them look as good as we can. The paying public are the ones who can spend their time fantasising.'

It was then that Monty came in. He seemed in a brighter mood than earlier. That was good news at least.

'Job for you Monty.'

'Anything Charlie, Anything. Plug need changing? I could do that.'

'George here needs some spotlight practise. Would you mind walking about between the tables while he follows you?'

'Not a problem. Give me time to think. Just wanted to let you know the other performers will be here in about half-an-hour. I've arranged a buffet for us all.'

'Off you go then lad. Make sure he goes all over the room. You're in charge remember.'

The light came on a couple of minutes later and Monty started playing silly-buggers. He was jumping forwards then walking backwards a few paces. Changing directions unexpectedly and generally not helping at all. I went over to him.

'You're not helping at all.'

'Sorry Monique what do you want me to do?'

'Just keep walking about so George can trail you. Stop still now and then if you like. But try to keep your movements regular.'

'Sorry.'

'You're forgiven. Just don't do it again.'

'We still on for seven?'

'Yes. But get on with it. We're busy.'

The rest of us held a council of war.

'This isn't good.' - Michael

'I've had friends who've been naked around adolescents. Every bit of them shakes.' - me

'We need emergency treatment.' - Charlie

'But what? - all of us.

We all agreed that the best solution would be to send him to a strip club with enough cash to get himself lap-danced into oblivion. Saving that, Charlie said he'd bring in a spare pair of overalls. Make him look for like one of the team and disguise his tumescence. I was sent out in a taxi to buy half a dozen porn mags. Michael reasoned that the more he masturbated tonight, the easier it'd be tomorrow.

Our show colleagues arrived in little groups. Pete, the origamist, and Joseph the juggler arrived together. They were clearly friends of each other and of Monty. The three of them strolled under George's beam chatting animatedly. Velda the palmist, came on her own. She looked like an ordinary fiftyish housewife apart from the bandana.

'Don't worry. I'll wear all the gear tomorrow.'

Three waiters wheeled in our buffet. George switched the light to them and shouted out greetings to a couple of them. The last pair were obviously the strippers. Good choice I thought when I saw them. One was nearly six foot, she had light, coffee-coloured skin and long dark hair falling straight over her shoulders. She held herself erect, shoulders back, pushing out an ample bosom only slightly smaller than mine. The other was shorter, maybe five-five. I'd have said she had typical girl-next-door looks if she hadn't been wearing so much make-up. Blonde hair like bubbles stood out from her head, she was talking animatedly making the other laugh and tugging a valise on wheels. They looked around and then made a bee-line for Velda and me.

Stuart chose that moment to make his entrance. He was bright red and clearly very angry.

'You there. You, the little blonde one. What are you doing using the main entrance. Your sort are not allowed. And what are you doing in here anyway, this is for private functions?'

The girl looked frightened and moved behind the case as he reached us.

'That case will have to be moved. Its a fire hazard. Someone could trip and fall trying to escape.'

He pulled himself up to his full height and glared down at the small blonde who now looked close to tears. She started muttering an apology. I put a hand on her shoulder and moved between them.

'First of all, her sort is our sort. We are all entertainers here and we'll use whatever entrance we like. Without us, there is no charity dinner and you'll be left explaining why hundreds of little children in Africa will have to go to bed without tea.'

This just seemed to make him angrier. But I'd drawn his fire which was the point. I took a step towards him and was about to speak again when I was distracted by a friendly-sounding voice.

'I like her. I'm Pete, origami.'

A long thin arm snaked over Stuart's shoulder and offered me a hand to shake.

'Me too, Joseph, juggling. Sorry to interrupt.'

I shook both hands and they withdrew them and folded their arms. Both were smiling widely and Pete winked at me when he caught my eye.

'Second, this is Monty's long lost niece Daisy. She did not fly here from her Geneva finishing school to help out her sister's brother after years of estrangement to be treated like a common street walker by the likes of you.'

'The likes of me? The likes of me?'

Stuart really did look like he was about to blow a gasket.

'I know the rules of this hotel and its my job to enforce them. I also know that the charity this year is supporting spina bifida.'

'Endemic in Africa.'

'And Mr Plimpton is an only child. I looked him up in Who's Who.'

He started poking a finger at me aggressively, stopping about an inch from my chest.

'You touch her and you'll have me to deal with.'

Michael's friendly tone is enough to send chills down the spine of most ordinary people. This wasn't his friendly tone. Stuart, however, was beyond common sense.

'Are you threatening me? I will be treated with respect.'

'I'm not threatening you at all.'

The room was deadly quiet, except for George whistling The Stripper in the gantry as he played the light over the empty tables.

'I'm telling you that if you lay one finger on Monique I shall break every bone in it. Followed by most of the bones in that hand - there are a lot of bones in the hand, too many to promise. You should see Michelangelo's anatomical drawings if you ever get the chance. Exquisitely detailed. And finally, if I'm not too tired, I'll break your arm as well.'

The size of the hole he was digging for himself dawned on Stuart at last. He started spluttering.

'Mr Plimpton will hear about this. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he sacks you both.'

'Daisy? Daisy, is that you?'

Monty pushed through the group from behind Pete and Joseph. He lifted the little stripper off her feet and kissed the top of her head.

'You came. Its wonderful to see you. How long has it been? Twenty years? How you've grown.'

Stuart turned on his heel and fled. I don't think there was any malice in George keeping the spot on him all the way to the door. But Pete and Joseph whistling the theme from the Chaplin shorts was definitely unnecessary. Monty put Daisy down.

'I kept suggesting to Monique and Michael that we should have a team-bonding exercise. They're always fun. So good of you to organise one for me. That was superb. And you.'

He turned to beam down on the blonde. She took a step back.

'Fantastic performance. I almost thought we were related. Ever do amateur dramatics? Wonderful hobby. Wonderful. I'll get you the details of our little group.'

'Monty.'

'Ah, she who must be obeyed. Time for me to shut up. Always going on. Do apologise.'

I coughed. He mimed zipping his mouth and retreated back behind his friends. I announced the buffet was open and directed everyone to a table we could all sit round. George was really getting the hang of the spot and sounded a little miffed when I called him down too. I went round the table announcing names and roles.

'Sorry ladies. I know one of you is Stella and the other Ruth, I'm just not sure which is which.'

'I'm Ruth.'

'Hi, I think Daisy's quite a nice name, don't you?'

Stella just nodded to everyone.

'And how would you prefer to be described, exotic dancer, stripper?'

They looked at each other and shrugged.

'Stripper's fine.'

'Great. We're only getting together now, to meet and iron out any problems you think there may be. Shouldn't take long.'

I went through the programme and outlined who would be expected to be where and when. When I told them I'd be paying them at the end of the evening, Ruth piped up.

'You mean I don't have to...'

'Come on, spit it out.'

'Last year, I had to give that little... him that was in here just now, a hand job before he'd give us our fees.'

'I think 'Little Wanker' is just what his friends call him.'

'I lost the toss with Stella again.'

'Well I won't expect a hand job, though it might be interesting to see you try.'

'Oh, I do women as well.'

'Thank you, Ruth. Too much information. But it does bring me to my last point.'

I waited for the laughter to die down.

'All of us, women and men, will be getting changed in there. Some of us, particularly Ruth and Stella will be getting undressed out here. Two things.'

They all leaned forward, more serious now.

'No harassment, verbal or physical. OK?'

There was a general murmur of consent.

'That goes for you two as well. I know what strippers are like around young boys with uncontrollable urges. No teasing George.'

'It's not you lot I'm worried about.'

'Monty will say a few words - I hope its a few anyway - at the end concerning the guests.'

'Second, I know its too much to ask you lads not to gawp while Ruth and Stella are on. Hell, I might peek myself after Ruth's kind offer. But lets give them the dressing room for fifteen minutes after they've finished, eh? They'll be completely naked and probably pretty knackered. I'm sure a bit of privacy would be appreciated. OK, any questions?'