The Overnight Fame of Steffi McBride

Chapter Fourteen

Dora had arranged a meeting for me at the record company on my one day off from The Towers that week. I felt a bit of a fraud saying I had a record company, I mean most musicians work for years to get anyone to even look at them while I’d swanned in on the back of one crappy television talent show which had given me a number one novelty track. But it was still nice to have something to take my mind off all the other stuff and it was comforting to be with Dora and to just relax for an hour or two, being treated like I was a star, even if it was based on one freak Christmas hit.

     ‘We’ve been doing a lot of brain storming on where to place you in the market,’ one of the suits told me once we were all comfortably sitting around in their flashy meeting room.

     ‘The demographics are difficult to read,’ another chimed in.

     ‘Demographics?’ Not a word I was completely sure about.

     ‘Which sector of the market you are likely to appeal to,’ Dora explained. ‘Summer Wine was bought by everyone from grannies to kids, it would be hard to repeat that sort of success next time. They want to work out who your core market of fans are likely to be and then target them.’

     ‘Sounds a bit like a war plan,’ I joked. ‘Can’t I just record a few good songs and see what happens?’

     They all humoured me for a few minutes, but they obviously thought that was about the worst idea they’d ever heard. They kept telling me how wonderful the Brits performance was and how high I had rated when they market researched me with the public. They were talking about ‘touring’ and ‘breaking America’ and God knows what else and I began to feel a bit sick because I knew I didn’t want to do any of it. I wished Luke was there because it had all seemed more fun when it was just him and me and a stupid television talent show. This all seemed a bit serious and was likely to cost everyone a ton of money. He would have known what to say to them, but at the same time I knew he would have been agreeing to everything they suggested, so maybe it was better he wasn’t there. Touring America with West End Boys had been one of the highlights of his life and I knew that was one of the reasons he was pissed off with me. He had been hoping to relive his glory days again with me. I felt so bad about letting him down, but it just wasn’t something I felt comfortable with. I still missed him all the time, still hoped that every call would turn out to be him. Still wasn’t going to be the first one to crack and make the call.

     On one hand the executives wanted me to write my own material, like I needed another hobby just at the moment, while another executive suggested I record some classic cover versions.

     ‘Connie Francis!’ someone else yelped, like they’d just discovered gravity. ‘Well overdue for a remix. Fantastic, moving stuff!’

     And so it went on, round and round and round, part fantasy, part hard nosed businessmen desperately trying to find a concept they could get hold of and market to death. When it was all over they offered to take us to dinner but I’d had enough by then and said I had somewhere else to go.

     ‘That was a lie,’ I admitted to Dora once we were safely back out in the real world. ‘Can you and I go somewhere? I’m starving. I’ll pay.’

    It felt nice to be able to say that. The money had finally started to filter through and I was able to make gestures like that without even thinking about it. I’d been sending money home to Mum as well, which felt even better.

    ‘Sure, where would you like to go?’

    ‘I don’t care. Nothing flashy. Chinese maybe.’