Berlin.
In the car Mark admits he is still feeling a little woozy. He says that a man from a newspaper told him last night that his book was outstanding and requested his presence over dinner. 'He only gave me seven different telephone numbers for me to call him.'
We look at the city, a cluster of buildings against the skyline.
'It’s like something from Planet from the Apes, like a mirage, it’s a city totally designed for cars.'
Henri pipes up. 'I love Texas, it’s very big.'
'We’re not talking about Texas dear,' Mark interjects.
Madonna comes on the car radio. Rescue Me.
'Oh I haven’t heard this in years, it’s her cliche song, listen – I believe in the power of love –rescue me.'
Henri reminds Mark he agreed to write a beach novel under a pen name. 'Something trashy, the type of novel that people buy for a few pounds and then leave on a beach in Cyprus.'
Everyone laughs.
'What would you call it?' asks Henri.
'True Bitches, but maybe just word. Hot!'
They discuss relationships, sex and alcohol. The conversations are diverse and confusing.
'For some reason I’m not looking forward to doing Berlin, not sure why, maybe it’s because I’m not booked in at the Tiergarten but at the Soho again,' says Mark, 'I’m rather tired actually.'
The original plan was for Mark to do an event in London and then fly direct to Berlin but at the last minute Mark decided on a train and car journey. We divert to the main railway station where Mark buys a biography on Richard Nixon, this week’s New Yorker newspaper ('There’s an article I want to read about,') and two comics. He looks at the comic’s credit page and smiles before declaring, 'Oh I met him once,' before handing me the comics. We are back in the car.
'Off to be imprisoned in the hotel,' says Mark sulkily.
Mark decides to hire a small function room at the hotel so he can rehearse new edits from his book. He discusses booking a restaurant for tonight with Henri.
'To get a good restaurant in Berlin you need star power, pointless asking the concierge to do it, he’ll just do a number on me.'
In the bedroom I switch on the news while Mark discusses clothes. He decides to purchase a black tracksuit for travelling. Mark is tired and grumpy. He tries to have a sleep but a waiter insisted on coming into the bedroom to deliver a complimentary basket of fruit. 'They ignore the do not disturb signs,' Mark shouts before continuing, 'why is it they think fruit is so overwhelmingly important?' No one answers.
A Kate Bush tribute act is performing a few minutes down the road and Mark decides he wants to attend. The venue is still being painted outside when we arrive but inside there is genuine excitement and the show is a success. Afterwards Mark manages to get an invite backstage where he discovers an editor of a magazine who has refused to meet Mark is sat drinking champagne taking down notes. He sees Mark and looks embarrassed but Mark just ignores him instead giving a huge round of applause and kisses to the Bush tribute act singer who appears rather bedraggled and sweaty.
'Mark Binmore is not as such cynical as wary. His latest book could have been a second biography intended for the reader to glimpse into what could have been his life, but it isn’t. It’s a make believe story, rather like his own life at times. At the book launch a question was asked about his dancing where Mark freely admitted that he used to dance at clubs to various disco and house music then return home and play surrealistic songs wondering why can’t we all be honest and dance to whatever we like. Mark was spotted at the KT Bush gig last night.' Village Voice.
Mark appears at the hotel reception wearing a Michelin Man tee shirt. 'That’s me,' he says a little sarcastically, 'I’m the Michelin Man; I bounce back off the critics.' Henri appears.
'So, did you create havoc last night?' 'No.'
Mark looks back at the hotel.
'You know, last time I was here, two young gay men jumped off the top floor and committed suicide, flying past my window.' He sighs.
'There was a massive area of blood and they were still hosing it down the following morning,
how sad. Maybe that was why I didn’t want to stay here.'
Henri speaks.
'Did you hear that author on the breakfast room this morning? He was talking about how important the message in a book is.'
'And what was his message?' Mark asks.
'He didn’t say,' Henri replies.
Mark begins to worry about his television appearance this afternoon. He has been told there will be two dancers when the music is played.
'I hope they won’t be dancing in front of me, and they are not allowed to look under any circumstances as if they are enjoying themselves.' He continues. 'In fact they mustn’t move, let them be statues, let people think I’m the main person with a group of silhouettes standing around me.'
Henri stares and then laughs, nervously.
We arrive at the studio and inspect the set.
'Fancy having a carpet,' Mark wails then inspects some high tech keyboards which have been set up for a performance by a pop band who are hoping to get signed. The band come out to say hello and Mark immediately becomes a charming flirtatious cooperative talker. I hear snippets of his conversation.
'Of course, I always wanted to be a pop star. If you need a backing vocalist, I’m always here.'
The band disperses and Mark continues to moan about the venue.
'Not as good as the Brussels gig last year but then again there were the freebies. Everytime you went there you got a jumper with the Mannekin Pis on it and a free mini statue.' Two representatives from his publishers appear, Claudine and Tom. There are lots of kissing and shaking hands and Claudine presents Mark with a bouquet of flowers, some cosmetics and a huge box of French chocolates. 'German chocolate is not good,' she insists. Tom kisses then hugs Mark for a long time and then kisses him again. He speaks.
'Are the reviews in yet?'
'Yes. There are a few American ones here and a bizarre Spanish one.'
Henri interrupts, someone has to go back to the hotel to get Marks passport. 'Why?'
'Because you’re performing with music and therefore classified as a musician.'
'Oh, okay.'
'Do you want to see the dancers?'
'No. I’m sure they will be fine, famous last words no doubt.'
Everyone retires to the dressing room. Mark browses through promotional material for Stuttgart and Munich appearances while Tom plays a computer game from the 1990s.
Claudine speaks endlessly on the telephone amid talks of Mark going to America for book promotion.
Tom leans over to Mark. 'I have to stop playing this, you dream about these shapes falling down, you get totally obsessed by it.'
'Oh,' replies Mark completely disinterested.
Someone knocks and the door opens.
'Hello, I’m Martin from show how are we all doing?'
He needs Mark’s passport to sort out a pay cheque. He also has a form that needs filling out. Mark is being promoted as a speciality act. 'Like a circus,' Mark comments. Martin wants to know who the singer is.
'There is no singer, I am the writer.'
'Then why do you have music and dancers.'
Mark shrugs.
'We’ll put you down as the singer, it pays more anyhow, and you can expense it.'
'Claudine can fill that one out.'
'That makes me very happy,' Martin replies.
When he leaves, everyone discusses lawyers. Claudine kicks off.
'Have you seen that advert on TV where you can contact a lawyer if you have stress at work and they’ll sue your employer and get you time off?'
'It’s ridiculous, how many jobs don’t give you stress?' replies Tom. Mark nods. 'That’s what work is, stress.'
Mark quizzes Claudine about details of today’s payment. It’s not as though the money is huge, but Mark appears to monitor all business dealings with the same principle, he doesn’t want to be ripped off but business is business. It turns out Mark will receive a flat rate fee with the two dancers each receiving a higher standard rate fee.
'Well, I can’t go on then,' sighs Mark. 'If I dance as well do I get more money?'
'That’ll throw a spanner in the works,' says Tom. It’s eerily prophetic.
'I am so bored,' moans Mark. 'It’s just boring. I can’t believe how boring it is.'
While we wait, I sit and chat with Claudine. Waiting.
Mark yawns. 'I’m not a hundred per cent you know. I used to party like an animal many years ago, now a few drinks and I am knackered the following day.'
Tom and Mark discuss possible American promotion. Airlines are also discussed.
'Delta,' says Tom.
'Mmh, they are good aren’t they.'
He asks about food on the plane.
'You’ll probably get a meal ticket,' laughs Claudine.
'The dancers would get a meal ticket,' Mark says.
Martin returns. As Mark is now being interviewed as well it changes the whole payment. Mark will now be paid the higher fee rate.
'That’s good, upping the wages so to speak, but it’s not the money, it’s the principle of the thing.'
Back in the dressing room, the shows researcher Kris comes to do the pre-interview. This is common chat show routine. The researcher finds out good stories for the on screen interviewer to head towards.
Tonight’s host is Jaden who is being groomed to take over full time in a few months time. Is that overdone, Kris asks, the whole how did you get into writing bit?
'Yes,' says Mark.
He moves on. 'I know you’ve probably done this before, but how about the background to your book?'
'Fine.'
'Have you done your early books to death?' Kris continues then retracts that. 'We don’t want to talk about that.'
Mark nods and then suggests talking about the whole book tour experience, meeting different people, the audiences, the reactions etc.
'You would be okay with that?' says Kris.
'Well, yes, I thought that’s what you would want me to talk about.'
'Okay, so what would your answer be?'
'I’ll tell that to Jaden.'
Kris is silent for a while and then asks if Mark has ever met Jaden. 'No.'
'Do you know what he looks like?' 'No.'
'Have you ever seen the TV show before?' 'No.' 'Oh.' 'Exactly.'
The pre-interview continues.
'Jaden will have a tendency,' continues Kris, 'he will want to know where you are from, where you have lived. He asks everyone that no matter where they are from, now I have it down here you were born in Torquay, is it beautiful?'
'No. It was.'
'Would you prefer to talk about London?'
'Absolutely.'
Waiting for the rehearsal, I talk to Tom who appears to be fretting. Mark is continually travelling between book store, radio and TV appearances and staying in hotels but there are few photographs.
'It’s a pity he doesn’t do drugs,' he sighs, 'I would leak that to the press then the publicity would be great.' He then apologies profusely and says he didn’t mean what he said. A director fusses round wearing a yellow jumper and a blue scarf.
'Can I just make it clear that the two dancers are just wearing black suits with angel wings,' Mark tells him while pointing at the two dancers.
'I hope it’s their own wings,' says the director before walking off.
'Do you want smoke?' says a technician.
'Oh yes, I always want smoke, it’s what I am all about,' says Mark. Jaden bounds onto the set.
'Hi there, Hi Mark, I’m Jaden, how are you, where you from, hey get this man some pie, mash and gravy.'
No laughter.
'No one knows what I mean,' he mutters, though of course everyone knows precisely.
Back in the dressing room we watch some German news and then someone changes the channel to hardcore porn. The huge box of chocolates has been opened and Henri who has returned opens the champagne.
'You don’t get this on the BBC in the afternoon,' chortles Mark.
'It’s very arty,' says Tom. 'Most porn still have that integral story behind the sex, kind of crap really.'
'It’s very Modernist,' says Mark. 'You have a group of people having sex, a group of cameraman filming the action and the dialogue is plain drivel. I guess this is what they live for. But the music is everything.'
Claudine remarks that the hotel where Mark is staying is hosting a porn party tonight. 'I did hear something; I am thinking of complaining of the noise at one o clock and then demanding a refund on my room. I might even call the police,' he adds. Two minutes later he has changed his tune. 'I might pop down and make an appearance, see what all the fuss is about, apparently I have been invited so would be rude not to say hello.' He then mentions a book he has worked on which in essence is a porn story but he won’t publish under his real name. The TV channel is changed and it’s some American biography of Elizabeth Taylor.
'It’s a shame that serious actors don’t make films anymore, they are kind of beyond that,' chirps Claudine.
'You know she is dead don’t you?' says Mark.
Claudine leaves.
Kris returns.
'Would you like some oranges? I can arrange for a basket to be brought in.'
'No thanks,' says Mark.
'I’d like a pear,' says Tom.
'There are no pears,' says Kris before leaving again.
'Actually, I’ve changed my mind they really are nice here, I hate to say it but Kris is lovely,' says Mark.
There is a pause.
'He doesn’t remember me', says a quiet Henri. 'That’s sex for you.'
'Henri, I am shocked,' laughs Mark.
Claudine re-enters. 'Okay, here we go, contract time.'
Mark and Claudine pour over the contracts.
'My gross income!' splutters Mark, 'it’s none of their fucking business.'
The TV channel is still showing various clips from Elizabeth Taylor.
'She was very beautiful,' says Mark.
Mark goes to the bathroom. When he returns all the chairs have been taken.
'Oi,' he addresses Tom, 'can I sit down then?' Tom quickly rises.
'Shame on your Mark,' says Claudine, 'pulling rank.'
Mark winks at Tom, he winks back. Kris returns with a typed sheet of information and questions about Mark.
'Okay, this is what I have given Jaden. I guess you may laugh at it because it does kind of look silly '
In a way it does. There are six questions and, after them, anticipated answers of what Jaden can expect Mark to say.
The dressing room starts filling up with gifts and cards, which have been arriving over the last few hours.
'It's like a first night,' says Mark, 'It's just like it is in the films. The artists are hysterical, the flowers are arriving.'
Mark is interviewed by one of the video crew.
'I am a…' He struggles for the right phrase. 'Universal man?' he says. It's clearly not what he wanted to say. 'What do you call it?'
'Renaissance man?' suggests Tom.
'That's it!' says Mark. Then his brow furrows. 'What were Renaissance men called before the Renaissance?'
A voice booms over the backstage intercom. 'One hour to showtime.'
'I must be mad doing this,' says Mark. 'I can't wait for it to get into a really boring routine.' Someone pops in to do Mark’s make-up, 'I need surgery, not make-up,' says Mark, and there is much laughter.
'That's not the first time you've said that,' Tom points out. 'It still applies though,' Mark sighs.
After his makeup is done, Mark drops his trousers so that the entire room can see his boxer shorts.
'It's a great moment in publishing,' says Mark afterwards.