Another Way

by Frankie McGowan

  The door bell pealing brought an oath from Brook and a gasp of relief from Ellie.

  It was a very dishevelled Ellie who raced to the door.

  ‘Paul,’ she said, thankfully swinging the door open and stopped abruptly, her mouth open. Theo Stirling, framed in the doorway was holding a long oblong box, and looked suspiciously as though he was trying not to laugh.

  ‘Personal delivery,’ he smiled, strolling in as though he was a frequent visitor. ‘Hello, Brook, I didn’t realize you would still be here.’

  The flustered and furious anchorman scrambled as best he could to his feet, hastily adjusting his waistband. Theo appeared not to notice, handing the box he was carrying to Ellie, who still hadn’t managed to collect her wits, let alone find anything sensible to say.

  ‘I was just acting as a messenger for Eleanor,’ he smiled. ‘But I would be delighted to offer you a lift home. I didn’t see your driver anywhere in the street.’

  Under any other circumstances Ellie would have felt compassion for the embarrassed anchorman, trying to recapture some of his famed charm, having been caught with a girl young enough to be his daughter by one of the City’s most respected names, desperately trying to adjust his trousers and not entirely sober.

  ‘No, no,’ he blustered. ‘I dismissed him. I mean I thought Eleanor and I might be longer than... well, it seemed wiser. She has the most dreadful headache, you know. Anyway, I’ll call a cab.’

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ said Theo, standing aside as Brook recovered his coat. ‘My driver will take you wherever you need to go and return for me.’

  Ellie felt as though she were passing through a nightmare. How did Theo know where she lived? What was he doing here? And come to that, where was Debra Carlysle?

  Too exhausted to care, she allowed Theo to usher an abashed but unresisting Brook out. The anchorman wasn’t too drunk to recall that as to date Theo had resisted all his invitations to be interviewed on his show, Insiders, and the possibility would be completely wiped out if he told him exactly what he thought of him ruining his chances with Ellie.

  When Theo returned, Ellie was sitting with her head in her lap, her arms wrapped around her knees.

  ‘Aren’t you going to open the box?’ he asked lightly, but she detected a cautious note in his voice.

  She looked up, gazing at him through a tumbled mass of hair. Silently she brushed it out of her eyes and pulled the string off the box. Inside, in layers of delicate white tissue paper, was a replica of the suit she had worn, and ruined, at Theo’s flat.

  ‘But why... how?’ she demanded, looking in bewilderment from Theo to the contents of the box.

  ‘Well, my secretary organized it. I’m afraid my talents don’t stretch that far,’ he said apologetically. ‘I gave her the size and the designer. She did the rest.’

  ‘I’m impressed,’ Ellie said drily. ‘It was very thoughtful of you and I appreciate that you have been more than considerate…’

  Theo groaned.

  ‘Oh my God,’ he protested, amused. ‘I think I prefer it when you’re not being grateful. Yes, I will sit down, and yes please, I’d love some coffee.’

  Since Ellie had not offered him a seat or coffee and since it seemed unnecessary since he was now sprawled on the opposite sofa, she just glared at him.

  ‘How dare you do this to me? You got me into that mess...’

  ‘And I got you out of it,’ he interrupted.

  Ellie gave him a resentful look.

  ‘Is that why you came?’

  ‘No, I came to collect my belongings,’ he said, laughing at her bemused face. ‘I believe you borrowed an outfit to go home in.’

  Ellie blushed. ‘Look, I am very sorry I broke your vase and nearly hit you with my handbag, but you asked for it. And I don’t believe for a moment you came to get your things back.’

  ‘Well, now you mention it, perhaps I didn’t,’ he admitted and smiled with such genuine warmth in his face that Ellie stopped. ‘And since you ask, my wrist is not as I feared, broken. Just a little bruised. Look?’

  He wriggled his wrist.

  ‘Well, that was Debra’s fault not mine,’ she pointed out. ‘And where are my shoes?’

  ‘Ah well, I thought I would give you everything in stages. Who knows, I may need another excuse to visit you. I always keep something in reserve.’

  Ellie regarded him with disbelief.

  ‘Oh well, it was worth a try. Actually I’d forgotten all about them. They must be somewhere, I’ll get them back to you. I just thought it might help both of us if we just talked. Calmly. No water being chucked anywhere or swinging handbags. Five minutes?’

  She hesitated. ‘Okay. Five minutes. I’ll get your things... and some aspirin. I really do have a dreadful headache after all that. And then I’d like you to go.’

  When she re-entered the living room holding the freshly laundered robe, Theo was no longer there.

  ‘I’m in here,’ he called from the kitchen and as she walked through he was putting two steaming mugs of coffee on the table.

  ‘You are looking a bit done in,’ he said sympathetically. ‘Tell me how you managed to stave him off for an hour?’

  ‘Tell me how you knew where to find me,’ she countered.

  ‘Not hard,’ he smiled. ‘And no, Belmains wasn’t a coincidence. I wanted to talk to you quietly and your helpful secretary told mine where you could be found. I thought if I phoned you’d just slam the phone down. I have no idea how I thought this would work out, but I had to have dinner somewhere. So why not there? And the doorman just checked the address Brook was taken to. Not hard.’

  ‘Look,’ she said. ‘You’re not here for nothing. If you want to do an interview that’s great, but otherwise, I can’t think why you’re going to this bother.’

  ‘Okay. I wanted to apologise for the other night. I don’t think either of us came out of it with any credit. I want to try and find some – I don’t know – common ground we can agree on without either of us dragging up all that stuff from years ago.’

  A voice warned her to be vigilant. But there was nothing wrong with meeting him half way. She took the mug he proffered and pulled one of the wicker chairs out to sit down.

  ‘So, talk then,’ she said.

  ‘What happened after you left Dorset? How did you get from there to here?’

  He was, she discovered, easy to talk to. She told him she found living alone easy. He asked about her job. She asked him if he liked New York. He said for the energy but not the food. Occasionally she made him laugh, without realising in return she had found herself perfectly incapable of suppressing a smile at something he said. Two things occurred to her. The first was that she being given the charm treatment and the second was that he was wasting his time.

  ‘And now,’ she said glancing at the clock on the wall. ‘Now that we’ve been polite to each other for – oooh, a good half hour,’ she half smiled. ‘Shall we get down to business?’

  ‘Business?’ he repeated blankly. ‘Yes, of course. Sorry I’d rather forgotten. I can see why you’re good at extracting information. I had rather hoped we were getting on well enough to resolve all this as – well, not friends, but amicably.’

  ‘We can,’ she said. ‘Just back off from buying Linton’s Field and I won’t write anything unpleasant. Just an anodyne piece harming no one.’

  ‘But I don’t think that’s what you’ve got in mind,’ he pointed out. ‘I gather you’ve phoned most of my friends over the last few days. Not to mention today.’

  She swallowed. Not entirely surprised. It had always been a risk. ‘Of course. You can’t write a decent profile, without researching your subject.’

  ‘Up to you. But I think you’ve already discovered, I choose my friends with care. They are loyal to me as I am to them. Ring who you like, but I would ask if you would keep a distance from Caroline.’

  Her eyes flew to his. ‘Why her in particular?’

  ‘That isn’t something I care to dis
cuss. She told me you were trying to get in touch with her. She won’t answer your call, you do know that, don’t you? Talking to a journalist is not in her interest.’

  ‘But I suspect more in your interests that she doesn’t? You don’t fool me,’ she said in a voice she hoped was calm. She was half tempted to tell him he was wasting his breath, Caroline had already tried to get in touch. But the journalist in her won. ‘You’ve spent the better part of an hour trying to charm me. I’m not stupid. It’s what you do,’ she shrugged and rose to her feet. ‘No harm done.’

  He paused and then rose too. ‘I’m sorry you think that. Look, Ellie, why can’t you see that instead of casting yourself and your family as victims at every turn, you’d do better to live in the real world. Nothing is ever perfect. Let go of the past. Start to look ahead. All that stuff will just eat you up. For your own sake, listen to me.’

  ‘I have,’ she said feeling strangely disappointed that he was exactly as she had expected him to be. ‘I just don’t feel inclined to do as you say. Let me show you out.’

  She walked ahead of him out of the kitchen.

  ‘Ellie, listen to me,’ Theo said, swinging her round. ‘What...’

  The sound of the door buzzer broke in and Ellie swung away from him to open the door. Paul D’Erlanger wasted no time.

  Catching Ellie to him he kissed her and said, ‘I’ve just got your message to come over. Sorry,’ he said, realizing they weren’t alone. ‘Who is this?’

  ‘Another friend of Eleanor’s,’ Theo said, ignoring her wooden face and shaking the younger man’s hand. ‘She seems to have so many.’

  ‘Fine, but I’d still quite like to know what you’re doing here at one in the morning,’ said Paul frostily, looking from Theo to Ellie who appeared to have been turned to stone. ‘And why are you carrying a bathrobe?’

  Chapter Eight

  In her more honest moments, Ellie could see that from Theo’s point of view, who knew little of her lifestyle, that instead of it being an extraordinary evening, men coming in and out of her flat like yo-yos at all hours, it could look like it was par for the course. Tired and angry with the way in which Theo had brought such disorder into her life, Ellie was in no mood to entertain Paul’s obvious suspicion that she had slept with him and had stubbornly refused to discuss his presence in her flat.

  ‘He at least rescued me from Brook,’ she said heatedly, stung by Paul’s visible disbelief that she hardly knew Theo Stirling. ‘And if we are going to discuss each other’s every move, perhaps we should start by asking where you have been until one in the morning.’

  It was a question Paul was clearly uncomfortable with and somewhere in the recess of her weary mind, Ellie realized that she was utterly indifferent to the answer. And so they parted each feeling let down by the other.

  The telephone call came as she was trying to decide whether to apologize to Paul for being so ratty or piece together the interview with Brook Wetherby, who had had the wit to send Ellie some roses in case she had taken a dim view of his clumsy behaviour and allowed it to colour her view of him in the profile.

  Lucy intercepted the call and reported that the caller insisted Ellie was waiting for her to ring but wouldn’t give her name. Ellie sat bolt upright, all thoughts of Brook Wetherby and Paul forgotten.

  ‘Won’t you tell me your name?’ she asked quietly as the husky tones greeted her.

  ‘No, that’s the deal. I have my own reasons for remaining anonymous. You’ve probably found most people do where Theo is concerned.’

  ‘Are you expecting payment for your information?’ Ellie asked, familiar with such requests and knowing Roland’s view of these things. Pieces of silver were not on tap at the offices of Focus.

  The woman gave a low, mocking laugh. ‘That’s all journalists ever think about,’ she said. ‘No, seeing the truth about him printed would be payment enough.’

  Ellie listened, just interjecting the occasional question, experiencing a very odd sensation that while this version of Theo Stirling made sense it curiously didn’t ring true with the man she was getting to know.

  ‘How did he hurt you?’ she asked gently.

  ‘He used me. I fell in love with him. I needed help and he promised to help me. When I wasn’t able to come up to scratch...’

  ‘Do you mean in business?’ interrupted Ellie, who thought discussing a private relationship with a stranger a very odd way to treat someone you claimed you had once loved.

  ‘I mean in a personal arrangement we had — the details aren’t necessary — he abandoned me. Left me in debt. I had to sell everything to survive.’

  Ellie felt cold. Except for the names, the story sounded familiar.

  ‘How can I use this information?’ she said carefully. ‘I have no way of backing the story up.’

  ‘You will,’ said the woman. ‘I’m going to give you other names of women he’s cheated on, men who would like to see him get what he deserves.’

  Ellie needed more. Pushing the woman for information, she grew impatient at the vagueness of her claims and, holding her breath, took a risk.

  ‘C’mon, name names,’ she said brusquely, her whole tone altering. ‘Who are you talking about? If I don’t have that, I’m not interested and we can end the conversation right here.’

  There was a brief pause and Ellie thought the woman had hung up.

  ‘Are you prepared to do that?’ she repeated.

  Finally the woman answered her.

  ‘Okay. Why not? You’ll find out anyway. To start with ask him why he threw these men out of Stirling Industries,’ and she listed the names of five men Ellie recognized from the press cuttings who had made up the board of the company based in New York that Theo ran personally. ‘Their homes, cars, lifestyle vanished. In two cases so did their wives. They know if they talk Theo has the power to damage them.’

  Ellie could believe that, but she found the woman’s next claim more difficult.

  ‘I think he felt threatened by them. He accused them of cheating the company. The only thing they had left, and to avoid a scandal, was to agree to say they had resigned.’

  ‘And did they cheat on him?’ Ellie asked.

  ‘I knew them all,’ said the voice that Ellie was irrationally coming to dislike. ‘I think you’ll find it was Stirling’s cheap way of getting rid of people who were no longer useful to him.’

  ‘Like you?’ Ellie said pointedly.

  ‘Just like me,’ the woman agreed pleasantly. ‘I’m going to ask you to take a call from a friend of mine, Jessica. She worked for a mutual friend of ours who was involved with Theo for a long time — Caroline Granger.’

  ‘But,’ gasped Ellie and stopped herself from saying, but I thought you were Caroline, and changed it to something more innocuous. ‘I thought she was out of his life?’

  ‘Oh, emotionally speaking, yes. But Jessica knows what he did to her. So... speak soon, okay?’

  And the line went dead.

  Ellie’s brain was working fast. If it wasn’t Caroline Granger, who the hell was it? She replaced the receiver and buzzed urgently for Lucy.

  ‘Get the picture desk to dig out anything on these men.’ Ellie looked at the clock; it was eleven a.m. in London, at least another two to three hours before any of the people the mysterious caller mentioned would be stirring in New York or Washington. ‘And if someone called Jessica calls — no, I don’t have a surname — put her straight through.’

  By six o’clock she had heard back from two of the five men on her list. Cautious, unhelpful but clearly bitter about Theo, the first hung up when Ellie said she was a journalist.

  The other bluntly announced he wasn’t in any position to talk and he would just deny the conversation ever took place. But talk he did.

  ‘It was a long time ago, honey,’ drawled Matt G. Harksey, formerly finance director of Stirling Industries NY Inc. ‘We took the load for the incompetent Mr Stirling.’

  ‘In what way was Theo incompetent?’ asked Ellie, swif
tly taking notes and wondering why she was feeling nauseated by all of this.

  ‘Not Theo, sweetheart, Robert. His father. Anything went wrong, Robert blamed the nearest person. In my case, me. Theo wouldn’t hear a word against his father... but he also knew if I was out so was Glenn Shuler, his father’s deputy, and the plum job in the ole family firm would be his.

  ‘No way was that conniving sonofabitch gonna let that slip through his Ivy League fingers. He called in some private detectives and between them pulled a convincing case against me and Glenn. Next thing you know, Theo is installed aged thirty-one as president of the company. Big deal. Big man. Big shit.’

  ‘Were you compensated?’

  ‘That’s a nice word for silence money,’ said the drawling voice. ‘Sure I was compensated, but I had to say I had resigned. I didn’t have the influence or the dough to compete with Stirling when he got going. I had no option. A man of forty-five isn’t going to find it easy to get a job if his former employers say he had his fingers in the till.’

  Ellie wound up the conversation. She had heard enough. She just wished she hadn’t even heard that much. The rest of the evening passed in a blur. A fashionable young artist, having drawn the cream of London society to the opening of his latest exhibition at a gallery in Cork Street, became so unnerved by Ellie’s lack of response to his genius that he finally found solace in several glasses of champagne and was heard weeping to the gallery owner, who had invested a considerable sum in his talent, that he knew, just knew, he was a complete failure.

  *

  At six thirty the following morning, Ellie pulled on a track suit and, throwing a swimsuit and towel into a bag, let herself quietly out of her flat. She flung the bag into the back of her car and, pausing only to smile good morning to Bill Randall who was leaving for work at the same time, drove through virtually empty streets to Covent Garden and the exclusive environs of the Phoenix health club.

  The changing rooms were empty as Ellie quickly wriggled into a black one-piece bathing suit and pulled her hair into a pony tail. Within minutes she was poised on the edge of the pool.