by Caragh Bell
She half-smiled.
‘Now, no more talk of leaving. I’d miss you.’ He flicked his blond hair out of his eyes. ‘I’d miss both of you.’
Ella’s eyes locked with his. ‘I’d miss you too.’
Chapter Thirty-two
A few weeks later, Aurora was rushing home to get ready for the wrap party for La Morte. She had just had her hair done. The night before had been the final performance and the cast were meeting that evening to celebrate. She was bringing Ophelia as a date; her friend wanted to network and meet as many influential people as she could.
Her phone started to ring as she turned the corner of her street. She didn’t recognise the number.
‘Hello?’
‘It’s Harry Finkelman’s office. You available to take this call?’
‘Sure.’
There was silence for a moment and then she heard Harry’s American twang.
‘Aurora, I got an idea.’
‘Hi, Harry. How are you? I hope you’re well.’
‘Cut the crap, princess. I’m a busy guy. Look, there’s an audition coming up that’s perfect for you. They’re thinking of doing a remake of Gone With the Wind. I could see you as Scarlett. You interested?’
She stopped dead. Was she interested? It would be the opportunity of a lifetime. She loved that film and had always admired Vivian Leigh.
‘Do you think I have a chance?’ she asked breathlessly.
‘Probably not, but hey, we gotta try. I’m reading your resumé here. It says you played a Southern Belle before. Clara-Mae or something like that? Well, that’s all good.’
‘Oh, Harry! It would be a dream role. Scarlett O’Hara is everything I could hope for. She’s spoilt and selfish, but what strength she has! What passion! I would just adore to play her.’
‘Hey, calm down, Lady Mary. You gotta take things slow. I’ll get my people to talk to their people and we’ll try and organise a meeting. This is only at the talking stage. It’ll be later this year before they start shooting.’
‘Where will the audition be?’
‘Probably L.A. You gotta come over Stateside and base yourself here. You gotta get that pretty face known.’
‘Well, there was talk of the play moving to Broadway for a spell. That could coincide quite nicely.’
‘Forget the theatre, you won’t get enough exposure on stage. You need to get on the screen. There’s no way we’re signing any contracts that keep you on a crappy stage for six months. The time is now, doll. You gotta move now.’
‘What do you suggest?’
‘You should do a few auditions. I’ll find some to practise with. Then, when it comes to Gone With The Wind, you should be ready.’
‘I wonder who will play Rhett,’ she said dreamily.
‘Oh, probably Ryan Gosling or that Irish guy, Fassbender. He’s hot right now. That’s why they might take a chance on you. Now don’t cut your hair or anything crazy like that. And practise your drawl. This could be the bigtime.’
The phone went dead.
Aurora stared at it in shock. It was simply the most amazing news she’d ever heard. She didn’t for a moment think it would happen, but it was so wonderful to be considered. Scarlett, with her Irish heritage and dark beauty, reminded her of Grace. She felt as though she was born to play her.
Ophelia was curling her hair when she arrived in the door.
Aurora jumped up and down, clapping her hands. ‘You’ll never guess!’
‘Please tell me that no more of my idols have passed away. I’m still in mourning over Prince.’
‘No, Harry rang and said I might have a chance of playing Scarlett O’Hara in a remake.’
‘Wowee!’ Ophelia looked impressed. ‘Come to think of it, you’d look the part.’
‘Oh, Lia! It would be a dream come true.’ She flopped onto the couch. ‘It would be nice to have something lined up now that the play is over.’ She looked glum for a moment. ‘All I have in my diary is that wedding in Venice. Maybe I’ll be forced to do commercials after all.’
‘You’ll be snapped up. Critics are raving about you. That article in Hello! was a huge success. You’re Henry Sinclair’s daughter. You’ll have no problems.’ She sprayed some lacquer on her hair to secure the curls in place. ‘I, however, may be forced to get a job at Burger King. What did Mr. Crowley say again? My woodland paths are dry. Like poor W.B. Yeats, I’m at a standstill creatively.’
Aurora smiled compassionately. ‘God, I’m such a narcissist. Here I am bleating on about myself and you’re down in the dumps.’ She squeezed Ophelia’s hand. ‘Let’s have a glass of wine tonight and forget all about it. We have to cling to the fact that we’re superstars.’
‘I can always be your personal assistant.’
‘But of course.’
They decided to hold the party in the theatre. Caterers had delivered an impressive buffet and there were crates of champagne. A DJ played music in the corner and the lighting technician had organised some coloured bulbs to create an ambience.
Paul whistled when the two girls entered the room. ‘Is that Ophelia I see? My word, with those curls you look more like Annie every day.’
‘How original,’ she sighed.
‘And you, Ms. Sinclair.’ He gazed at her short black dress and sparkly heels. ‘You look like a goddess.’
‘Oh charming,’ snorted Ophelia. ‘I look like a ten-year-old orphan and she looks like Aphrodite!’
Aurora kissed his cheek. ‘I’m going to miss you, Jimmy Romano,’ she said genuinely. ‘I’ve seduced you more times than any man I know.’
Paul’s long-term partner sidled up beside them. ‘Hi, Aurora,’ he said, shaking her hand.
‘Hi, Dave,’ she said, smiling. ‘I was just telling your boyfriend here how I’ll miss seducing him.’
‘Maybe now we’ll have time to go to Mykonos,’ said Dave, giving Paul a pointed look. ‘It’s been all work and no play, darling. I’m oppressed.’
‘Any work lined up?’ she asked.
Paul shook his head. ‘Nothing yet. Still, I could do with a break.’
Ophelia handed her a glass of champagne. ‘There’s a huge crowd here. At least forty people. How were they all involved?’
‘Well, some of them are partners,’ explained Aurora. ‘But running a play takes a lot of man power.’
‘Where’s lover boy?’
Aurora scowled. ‘He’s no longer known as that, Lia. He has been positively asexual these past few months. That ship has definitely sailed.’
Her friend’s face softened. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Of course. You don’t miss what you never had.’
As if on cue, Justin burst through the swinging doors of the auditorium, his face blazing.
‘We did it!’ he shouted, pumping the air. ‘We bloody did it!’
‘Did what, mate?’ asked Ray Rossi, stuffing a canapé in his mouth.
‘New York!’ said Justin in triumph. ‘We’re going to New York!’
Everyone gasped.
‘New York?’ repeated Paul stupidly. ‘As in Broadway?’
‘What about Mykonos?’ said Dave.
‘New York?’ said Aurora in shock. ‘How did that happen?’
Someone thrust a glass of champagne into Justin’s hand. ‘Well, I knew it was on the cards but I didn’t want to say,’ he said. ‘Then I got a call this afternoon. They want it to run for two months in a small theatre off 44th Street. Starting in October.’
‘Yippee!’ yelled Ray, ‘I’ve always fancied a trip to the Big Apple.’
Ophelia glanced at Aurora and frowned. She might not be available if the Scarlett O’Hara thing took off. By the look on her friend’s face, she could see that she had realised the same thing. Such was Justin’s arrogance that it didn’t even occur to him that his cast could have other plans.
The DJ started to play the new Justin Bieber tune.
‘My idol!’ shouted Ophelia. ‘Come on, Sinclair, let’s dance!’
‘Not now – later maybe.’
‘Suit yourself.’ Ophelia grabbed Paul’s hand and dragged him out onto the dance floor. Aurora watched in amusement as she swung him around and around, singing ‘What Do You Mean?’ at the top of her voice.
‘Hey, you,’ said a voice in her ear. It was Justin, his handsome face smiling. He had abandoned his champagne and was now drinking whiskey instead. ‘Great news about New York, eh?’
‘Wonderful,’ she agreed. ‘I’m so happy for you.’
‘Be happy for yourself too. This will catapult you into the big time.’ He drained his glass. ‘You can thank me later,’ he added with a grin.
She said nothing. It was on the tip of her tongue to mention Harry’s plans, but something told her not to say anything. Justin looked tipsy and she didn’t want to ruin his good mood.
‘This is a lovely party,’ she said lamely, unsure of what to talk about.
‘Oh, Aurora,’ he said closing his eyes. ‘Don’t small-talk, it’s so tedious. What a battle I’ve fought these past few months! Do you know how hard it was to watch you seduce Paul each night?’
Aurora blushed and took a sip of her champagne. Ophelia was right: whiskey did the trick. She pretended not to notice as his finger began to stroke her arm.
‘Bertie told me to follow my heart but I didn’t listen. I convinced myself that sleeping with you would be detrimental to our working relationship. Well, I may have been right . . . at the time . . .’
She stared at him with huge eyes. ‘But what now?’
‘Screw being sensible.’ He took her face in his hands. ‘I want you, Aurora Sinclair. I want to make love to you and wake up with you in the morning.’
She gasped in delight. His words, his beautiful words, were like music to her ears. This was the scenario she had dreamed of. This was the declaration of love she had craved. All her life she had yearned for a man to speak to her in this way.
‘Let’s go back to mine,’ he said urgently in her ear. ‘I’ll meet you outside in three minutes.’
He turned and left, with a last lingering look over his shoulder.
Ophelia rushed over. ‘Has he made a move?’ she asked in excitement.
‘Yes, very much so.’ Aurora’s chest was heaving. ‘We’re going back to his place. Oh, Lia, I think this is the night.’
‘For God’s sake, use protection and text me later!’ She kissed her cheek. ‘Enjoy yourself! I’ll get a cab home with Paul and Dave.’
With a beating heart, Aurora followed Justin out the main doors. He was standing by the lamppost outside, smoking a cigarette. A black cab was waiting. He held out his hand and she allowed him to guide her into the car.
His apartment was large, but minimalist. Everything was black, from the sofa to the lamp in the corner. Press cuttings from his plays were framed on the wall and her picture featured in most of them.
‘Drink?’ he offered, brandishing a bottle of Jameson.
‘I don’t like whiskey,’ she said awkwardly.
‘There’s white wine in the fridge,’ he said, sitting down. ‘Glasses are in the cupboard above the toaster.’ He pulled a small white bag from his pocket and opened his wallet.
She took a crystal goblet and filled it with some wine. She’d had three glasses of champagne already and was feeling quite light-headed.
Turning around, she stopped dead. He had made three lines on the shiny glass table: three lines of cocaine. Licking the edge of his bank card, he rolled up a five-pound note. Bending down, he snorted the biggest line and sat back wiping his nose.
‘Bliss,’ he said, throwing his head back. ‘I’ve been craving this all night.’
Aurora’s eyes widened. She had seen people take drugs before, mainly at college parties, but she had not expected Justin to do so. Especially during their romantic night.
‘Line?’ he offered, holding out the rolled-up note. She shook her head and he laughed. ‘Of course not. How stupid of me. You’re too innocent for all of that.’ He bent down and took another snort, hoovering it all up in one go.
Aurora perched herself on the edge of the armchair, unsure of what to do.
Justin poured another glass of whiskey and regarded her.
‘My father has an apartment on the Upper East Side,’ he said. ‘I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you stayed there.’
‘With you?’
‘Yes, of course with me.’ He crossed his legs. ‘He’s my father, you know.’
‘Of course.’ She blushed. ‘I didn’t mean . . .’
‘Come and sit over here,’ he commanded, patting the sofa next to him. ‘You’re too far away.’
She got up nervously and walked slowly towards him. Something didn’t feel right. There was a change in atmosphere and she felt uneasy. She sat next to him, her body rigid.
‘You’re quite the beauty,’ he said, pushing her hair away from her face. ‘I don’t usually go for brunettes, but you have something.’
His breath smelt of smoke. Leaning closer, he kissed her lips softly. It felt quite nice so she closed her eyes and moved closer. Grabbing her head, he deepened his kiss, letting his tongue explore her mouth. She surrendered herself and let him take control. His hands began to move down, around her waist and lower again.
‘You taste so sweet,’ he murmured into her jaw. ‘Take off your clothes.’
She jumped backwards. ‘What did you say?’ she asked, her cheeks flushed.
‘Take off your clothes,’ he repeated slowly. ‘Kissing like teenagers is all very well, but I want a bit more. I’m not sixteen any more.’
She shrank backwards. ‘I’m not sure that I want . . .’
He grabbed her arms. ‘Take off your clothes, Aurora. Right now.’ He yanked at her dress and pulled the strap down her right shoulder.
‘Stop it,’ she said, struggling. ‘You’ll tear it.’
He ignored her and yanked it harder. The fabric split and he pulled the bodice wide open to reveal a black lacy bra. ‘Nice,’ he said approvingly. ‘I like this.’
‘Stop!’ she shouted, pushing him backwards. ‘I said no!’
‘Oh, so that’s your game, is it?’ he sneered. ‘You like to play it that way, do you?’ He flipped her onto the couch and held her arms down. ‘I like it when women scream so knock yourself out.’ He kissed her roughly, his teeth biting her lips. He ripped her dress even further, yanking her bra to release her breasts.
‘Stop, Justin,’ she said. ‘Let me go.’
But he was too strong for her. Yanking her skirt upwards, he fumbled with his belt. ‘You’re going to take it like Elise Sloane,’ he jeered, pushing her legs open. ‘I saw how you oozed sex on that stage. Stop playing the innocent with me.’
She started to hit his chest, but he laughed.
‘Is that the best you can do?’
‘Let me go!’ she shouted, frantically trying to break free. ‘Let me go!’ Tears started to roll down her cheeks. ‘I don’t like this, Justin, please stop. Please!’
‘Oh shut up,’ he said dismissively. ‘No woman has ever complained before. Just relax and enjoy it.’ He pulled a condom out of the pocket of his pants and ripped the packet open.
‘No!’ she screamed, flailing wildly. ‘Don’t touch me!’
He paused for a moment and stared at her red face. ‘You really don’t like it, do you?’
She started to sob. ‘Let me go,’ she repeated, shuddering.
He released her arms and sat back. ‘You had better be careful, Aurora. Teasing men like that will only get you into trouble.’ He picked up his glass and took a swig.
‘Teasing?’ she said in outrage. ‘I did nothing wrong.’ She pulled her torn dress over her breasts. ‘How dare you do that? How dare you frighten me like that?’
‘Oh grow up,’ he said in a bored tone. ‘You asked for it. Coming back here in that short dress. What did you expect, darling?’
She gasped in horror. ‘You’re a pig,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘A disgusting pig.’
She made a bolt for the door and struggled with the lock. ‘Don’t ever ring me again,’ she said angrily. ‘Ever.’
‘Calm down. We have to go to New York.’
‘Never! You can find another Elise. I never want to see you again.’
‘Stop behaving like a child.’ He drained his whiskey.
‘Goodbye!’
The door opened and she rushed out, slamming it behind her. All she could hear was his drunken laughter as she ran down the stairs.
Once outside, she realised that she had left her bag on the coffee table.
‘Bugger!’ she said loudly. Now she had no money or no phone. Her dress was in ribbons and she shivered. They were in Chelsea – he had said that to the taxi driver. Maybe she could borrow someone’s phone? Who could she call?
Laura was in New York so she was no use. William had some sort of flu and Gloria would kill her. She especially didn’t want to disturb her father. His health had been poor in recent weeks and he needed his sleep. Ophelia had a new number that she didn’t know by heart.
The only person left was James.
She spotted a group of girls at a bus stop. ‘Excuse me!’ she called.
They eyed her warily.
‘Yes?’ asked one.
‘I’ve lost my bag and my phone. May I borrow yours to ring someone?’
The girl paused and stared at Aurora, whose dress was barely together and whose eyes were red from crying. She looked like she was in trouble, anyone could see that.
‘All right,’ she conceded, handing her a pink iPhone. ‘Just be quick.’
Aurora accepted the phone gratefully and punched in his number. He had forced her to memorise it when she was teenager, just in case she needed him. Well, she needed him now. Surely that would count?
He answered on the fourth ring. His voice sounded sleepy. ‘Hello?’ he said, yawning.
‘James? It’s me, Aurora.’
‘Borealis? What the hell?’ He sat up.
‘James, I’m in trouble. I’m so sorry to call, but I’m stranded in Chelsea and I’ve no money or phone and . . .’ To her horror she started to cry. ‘I need you. Please come and get me.’