Echoes of Grace

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Echoes of Grace Page 29

by Caragh Bell


  She had chosen a pretty green dress with black boots. Her hair fell loose down her back and her eyes were ever so slightly defined with kohl. James, in his habitual attire of jeans and a hoodie, picked up a magazine and started to flick through it.

  ‘It won’t be long until you’re on the front cover,’ he said, nudging her.

  Rather than brushing it off like she always did with others, she turned to him with big eyes. ‘Do you really think so? Really?’ She could always be honest around James. He told her the truth and never judged.

  ‘Yes, really. You’re a star, Borealis. Literally.’ He winked.

  ‘Aurora Sinclair?’ called the receptionist. ‘Harry will see you now.’

  They got up and walked towards his office. Harry Finkelman was written in gold lettering on the glass door. She pushed it open and entered a large room dominated by a mahogany desk and a giant fern plant in the corner. A small man was sitting on a swivel leather chair, barking down the phone. He had dark features, a large nose and was dressed in a white shirt and grey suit. Hs hair was balding and on one finger he wore a giant gold ring.

  ‘Like I said, get the frickin’ ball rollin’, you hear? I’m a busy man.’ He replaced the receiver with a clatter. ‘I hate dealing with schmucks. You know what a schmuck is, lady?’

  Aurora shrugged. ‘A silly person?’

  He laughed, showing two gold teeth. ‘You got that right.’ His New York accent was strong and his voice was deep.

  She stared at him in fascination.

  ‘So, you’re an actress-slash-singer, am I right?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Okay, this is how it works. You sign a contract, my people find you jobs that will increase exposure, every goddamn dime you make you keep, except for my ten percent.’ He held up his hands. ‘Yes, it’s steep, but with an unknown like you, I gotta make sure it pays. Then, if after twelve months things ain’t workin’ out, we part ways.’ He smiled. ‘Sound good to you?’

  James spoke first. ‘What kind of jobs will your people find exactly? I mean, I don’t want her starring in a reality TV show about the Playboy Mansion.’

  ‘Are you the boyfriend or something?’ Harry asked in annoyance.

  ‘No, he’s not,’ said Aurora, flushed. ‘He’s just asking a question.’

  ‘The jobs? I guess we look at what’s big right now. I’m talking Game of Thrones, I’m talking Homeland, I’m talking Disney –’

  ‘I always thought she was made to play Lyanna Stark,’ interjected James enthusiastically.

  ‘Too late,’ said Harry immediately. ‘That was cast months ago.’ He tapped on his computer screen. ‘Bertie says you sing like an angel. It’s a goddamn shame we didn’t meet a year ago. You would be perfect for the remake of Beauty and the Beast. That Harry Potter girl got the part.’ He frowned. ‘You know, they’re planning to remake all the classics. Maybe with a bit of fake tan, we could make a Pocahontas out of you.’

  ‘I understand that reference,’ said James solemnly to Aurora. ‘Thank you for my education regarding the princesses.’

  ‘Anytime,’ she said back with a smile.

  ‘The thing is, you’re a nobody. Sure, Bertie thinks you’re the next best thing, but I gotta be convinced.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Just sign today and we’ll get the ball rolling. The word on the street is that you’ll be on Broadway soon. I wanna limit that as I don’t want you trapped on a stage for two years. Theatre is not like film. In fact, TV is the way forward now. That’s what everyone wants: to be immortalised in a box set.’ He picked up the phone once more. ‘I’ll just tell Tasmina to bring in the documents. You can sign and that’s it for now. I’m a busy man. Maybe there’s a commercial you could do to start.’

  ‘Mr. Newman,’ said Aurora in her clear voice.

  He stopped and looked at her. ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’m not signing today.’

  He dropped the phone with a clatter. ‘You’re not signing today.’ He shook his head. ‘Say again?’

  ‘Thank you for your time, but I’m not sure that your agency will take me where I want to go. You see, I don’t see myself in advertisements, or commercials as you call them, and I don’t want to rush things.’

  James squeezed her hand in support.

  ‘I understand that it’s a gamble taking me on. I really appreciate your seeing us today. Perhaps if you give me a few days to mull over your offer, we might move forward.’ She smiled warmly. ‘My daddy says never to rush a big decision. He recommends taking one’s time.’

  ‘The way you talk – holy shit, you could’ve been Lady Mary in Downton Abbey!’ He stared at her in fascination. ‘So, you’re telling me that you’re not signing today?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Do you realise how goddamn lucky you are to even get an appointment with me? I got people trying to see me for months. I know actors who would kill to be in your place right now.’

  ‘I know,’ she said, ‘and don’t for a moment think that I’m ungrateful. I shall ring you by the end of the week with my answer.’

  ‘Oh, you will.’

  ‘Yes.’ She stood up and held out her hand. ‘It was a pleasure, Mr. Newman. I hope we meet again very soon.’

  He shook her hand. ‘Have fun mulling or whatever the hell you called it.’

  ‘Goodbye.’ She walked away with James in tow.

  Harry stared after them. Crazy broad. Did she not realise what she missed today? He felt like throwing her file in the trash.

  I’m not signing today.

  What the hell was she thinking?

  James initiated a high five outside the building. ‘I’m so impressed, Borealis,’ he said, laughing. ‘You played hardball.’

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t want to end up in a washing-powder ad or something.’

  ‘Commercial,’ he corrected grinning. ‘It’s all about the lingo.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  They paused to cross the street. The neon signs of Piccadilly were luminescent in the grey winter day.

  ‘Right, let me take you for lunch,’ he said. ‘Anywhere you like.’

  She hugged herself in delight. He was all hers for a few hours. It had been so long.

  ‘Let’s go to Covent Garden,’ she said. ‘I know a nice little café there.’

  ‘Right, off we go.’ He linked arms with her and they walked through the crowds of people on the footpath. ‘Remember when you called it Convent Garden? I couldn’t convince you otherwise.’

  She giggled. ‘I thought lots of nuns lived there.’

  ‘Green-fingered nuns,’ he added, winking.

  ‘Ha, bloody, ha.’

  After toasted cheese sandwiches and mugs of tea, they sat together in the corner of the café, talking incessantly. Janes filled her in on his life in Syria and she told him about Marianne and her theatre work. The waitress interrupted them, wanting to know if they’d like a refill of tea. Aurora waited for James to shake his head and say that he had to go, but he didn’t. Instead, he nodded cheerfully and held out his empty mug.

  ‘So, do you think you’ll get a job?’ she asked, tracing the rim of her mug with her finger.

  ‘I’ll pick up something,’ he answered. ‘I’ll have to freelance which will drive Claire mad, but what can I do?’

  ‘Why will she be mad?’

  ‘I’ll be self-employed and it’s harder to get a mortgage without a steady income.’

  ‘Oh.’ She frowned. ‘Do you want a mortgage?’

  He started. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’re so young and you’ll have to live so close to her parents. I never imagined you in that situation.’

  ‘Oh? How did you imagine me then?’

  ‘In a cool studio apartment in New York, taking photos of the skyline.’ She smiled. ‘You’re so talented, you could go anywhere with your skills.’

  He said nothing, but she knew she’d hit a nerve. His brown eyes, those eyes she knew so well, looked dark for a moment.

  �
��Jiminy?’ she said softly.

  ‘Yep?’

  ‘Just be happy, okay?’

  ‘I will.’ He smiled brightly, back to his cheerful self.

  ‘Put yourself first for a change.’

  His eyes met hers. ‘I do.’

  She shook her head. ‘No, you don’t. You’re the most selfless person I know. You saved me for a start. And made things difficult for me – it’s going to be very hard to find a boyfriend as good and as kind as you.’

  ‘Debussy might measure up.’

  She scowled. ‘Don’t mention him. He’s driving me crazy. He sent me a dozen red roses on Valentine’s Day and nothing since. Bertie thinks he’s trying to be honourable but life’s too short.’

  ‘I have to disagree,’ said James. ‘I’m all for him being honourable. You should be treated with respect.’

  ‘At this rate, I’ll be an old lady before he pounces.’

  ‘Don’t!’ He held up his hands defensively.

  ‘Don’t what?’

  ‘That mental image makes me want to vomit.’

  She threw a sachet of sugar at him. ‘I’m not a little girl any more! Stop babying me!’

  His expression changed. ‘I’m starting to realise that,’ he said quietly. ‘I suppose, I don’t want you to get hurt.’

  ‘No matter what happens, I’ll get hurt. That’s life. I was hurt the moment I was born.’ She flicked her long hair away from her face. ‘However, I want to be kissed and held and loved. I want to fall in love. Is there anything wrong with that?’

  ‘No, there’s nothing wrong with that at all.’ He smiled. ‘Whoever you love will be one lucky man.’ He drained his tea. ‘I’ll probably hate him though. Just so you know.’

  ‘We won’t be invited over to your little semi-detached house for dinner then?’

  He laughed. ‘Probably not.’

  William arranged to meet Gloria for coffee a couple of days later. They met at the Swan pub near the hospital as he only had a short lunch break. She was seated by the window when he arrived.

  ‘Over here, darling!’ she called, waving madly.

  He smiled and undid the buttons of his coat.

  ‘Lovely to see you, Mum,’ he said, kissing her cheek. ‘Thank you for coming all the way up here.’

  She waved him away. ‘Not at all. I had to come to the city any way.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Why, yes, I’m all out of that hand cream I like from Harrods.’ She smiled. ‘Vitally important for my daily life, of course. So, what’s so important?’

  He took a seat and inhaled sharply. ‘It’s about Ella.’

  ‘Hmmm, I expected as much.’

  ‘Well, she and I … we’re not … I mean …’

  ‘Spit it out,’ she said kindly.

  ‘She’s pregnant but it’s not mine.’

  Gloria’s eyes widened. ‘Pregnant?’ she echoed. ‘Oh no!’

  ‘She has terrible morning sickness – that’s why she looks so thin.’

  Gloria put her hand over her son’s. ‘Where’s the father of the baby?’

  William sighed. ‘In Canada. He’s married and she doesn’t want anything to do with him. Or he with her.’

  ‘Why is she living with you?’

  He shrugged. ‘She has nowhere to go. This guy, the father? He was also her boss so she lost her job.’

  ‘Good lord!’

  ‘So, I found her living in a squalid flat in the East End with barely enough money for food. She couldn’t eat anyway and then was hospitalised with dehydration.’ He looked up. ‘I have to look after her, Mum. She has no one else.’

  ‘What about Arthur and Maureen? She’s their daughter, for God’s sake!’

  ‘She hasn’t told them. She’s afraid to.’

  Gloria raised an eyebrow. ‘I can see why, to be fair. Arthur was always quite stuffy.’

  A waitress appeared and held up her pen. ‘Are you ready to order?’ she asked.

  Gloria shook her head. ‘Not quite yet, thank you.’

  The waitress walked away, shoving her notepad into her apron pocket.

  ‘Look, Mum. I want you to support me, us. I’m going to look after her until the baby comes. Until she’s back on her feet.’

  Gloria said nothing. Instead she looked at her son compassionately.

  ‘Then, when she’s back to normal,’ he said, ‘she can get her life back together.’

  ‘Don’t get hurt, my love.’

  William’s head shot up. ‘What? You sound just like Laura!’

  Gloria stroked his cheek with her finger. ‘You’re a lovely man, William. You remind me of your father. Just make sure you don’t end up with a broken heart.’

  He met her gaze steadily. ‘I’m not a fool, Mum. I know that Ella doesn’t like me like that. I just want to help her, that’s all.’

  ‘Then I’ll support her too,’ said Gloria with conviction. ‘Bring her down someday for lunch and we’ll celebrate the baby news.’

  William exhaled slowly and sat back. ‘You are so great, Mum. Thank you.’

  Bertie rang the next day during a break from filming.

  ‘Aurora! Greetings from Andalusia!’

  ‘Hello, Bertie,’ she said warmly. ‘How’s Seville?’ She curled up on the armchair in the sitting-room area of her flat.

  ‘Oh, dreadfully hot. I’m currently availing of the wonderful air con in my villa.’ He laughed. ‘I’m ringing you, my dear, to congratulate you on your performance with Harry Finkelman. He rang me in a frightful tizz about this uppity girl who had refused his offer of a contract.’

  ‘Oh, Bertie, I hope you don’t think that I’m ungrateful.’ She bit her lip. It was he who had organised the meeting after all. ‘It’s just, I don’t want to rush something like this. Daddy told me not to take the first offer on the table.’

  ‘He’s spot on,’ agreed Bertie. ‘What makes me laugh is the fact that Harry has been at the top for so long, he’s forgotten what it’s like not to have people fawning all over him. Genius move, my darling. He’ll want you even more now.’

  She wasn’t so sure. He could just as easily tell her the deal was off.

  ‘I’m also ringing to ask you out for dinner when I return next week.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes, I’d love to wine and dine you. Are you available?’

  ‘Well, I’m busy at weekends as you know.’

  ‘Then I’ll book us something for midweek. I’m pining for you, Ms. Sinclair. Your beautiful image fills my mind constantly. In spite of all the señoritas I meet every night here, I’d give it all up for you.’’

  ‘Bertie,’ she warned, ‘you know we’re just friends.’

  He chuckled. ‘I had an inkling. You’ve relegated me into that place all men fear: the friend zone.’

  It was her turn to laugh. ‘Yes, yes, I have.’

  ‘Still,’ he continued, ‘you won’t deny me your company, will you? Give an old man something to look forward to. Who knows? After a few glasses of obscenely expensive wine, you might reconsider. We’d have the wedding of the century! ’

  ‘Of course I’ll have dinner with you,’ she said, ignoring his flirting. ‘I’d love to hear all about your stint in Spain.’

  ‘Magnificent. Now, I’ll ring off. The director is waving at me from outside. Bloody upstart. He insists on shooting each scene twenty times. I’m overworked.’

  ‘Bye, Bertie. Thank you again for your help.’

  ‘Ciao, bella. Until we meet again.’

  Chapter Thirty

  William and Ella went to Oxshott a week later. Gloria had organised a lunch as promised and insisted they travel down for her famous chicken cacciatore.

  Ella baulked when they arrived at the house. ‘Oh Will, I feel so nervous.’

  He took her small hand in his. ‘No need. Mum is delighted with your news.’

  Ella wasn’t so sure. William inserted his key and held the door open. ‘After you.’

  Gloria met them in the hall. ‘Wil
l! Ella! Lunch is just ready.’ She embraced them fondly and bid them follow her into the dining room.

  Henry was sitting at the head of the table, reading a worn book of poetry with his glasses perched on his nose.

  ‘Hello, you two.’ He smiled warmly. ‘Good to see you again so soon.’

  Ella took off her jacket and felt her stomach somersault. Her loose black top fell becomingly over her belly, which was protruding noticeably now.

  William relieved her of the jacket and hung it with his own coat on the rack in the hall. ‘Is it just us?’ he asked.

  Gloria nodded. ‘James is at Claire’s and Aurora is busy at the theatre. Wine?’

  Ella shook her head. ‘Not for me, thanks.’

  ‘Oh, of course.’ Gloria blushed. ‘Although, I wasn’t as abstemious as you when I was pregnant. I suppose we didn’t know as much in those days.’

  ‘So that’s what happened to Lolly,’ quipped William, taking a seat near Henry.

  Henry smiled at Ella. ‘You look much better today, my dear. Has the nausea abated?’

  Ella was at a loss at what to say. She had concealed the pregnancy news for so long, it felt strange to talk about it so openly.

  ‘I am feeling better,’ she admitted. ‘I’m not confined to my bed all day at least.’

  ‘Hey, you mean my bed!’ interrupted William with a grin.

  Gloria disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared a few moments later with a large pot of aromatic chicken stew. ‘Get the bread for me, Henry,’ she said, placing the hot casserole on a ceramic tile in the centre of the table. ‘I hope this won’t make you sick, Ella.’

  ‘I’ll just have a little,’ she answered. ‘It looks lovely.’

  Gloria laughed. ‘Well, I wouldn’t go that far. My talents do not lie in the kitchen, I’m afraid.’

  She doled out a small helping of the stew on a plate and handed it to William. ‘Give this to Ella,’ she said and he passed it along.

  Henry arrived back with a basket of sliced baguette and resumed his seat.

  ‘Have you thought of any names?’ he asked conversationally.

  Ella started. ‘Names? Gosh, no. Not yet.’

  William accepted a plate piled high with stew from his mother. ‘Of course it’ll be William if it’s a boy,’ he said, winking, and Ella smiled.

 

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