Another Way

  When she had assured James that the facts were correct, she had meant it. Now they were not correct. Not ever. Not then. Not now. Oh God.

  As she waited for the phone at the printers to be picked up, she swiftly ran through the itinerary ahead of her.

  Fred Sommers, production manager at the printers, was an obliging man who wouldn’t balk at a last-minute hiccup. Ellie tried to persuade herself it would be okay, but it sounded ludicrous. To hell with it. She couldn’t stop now. She would go to the office. She would pick up the new film and take it herself to Milton Keynes. So, add on, say, another hour; that meant she would be at the printers at, with a bit of luck, around one in the morning.

  ‘Fred? Yes, it’s Ellie Carter. Fred, I’m sorry...’

  A bemused Fred Sommers, whose conversations with Ellie were few and far between, was inclined to want to catch up on all the gossip.

  ‘Fred, listen, this is urgent,’ she interrupted him. ‘Yes, Rosie’s really fine, yes, and Jed. Fred... Fred, take it from me, the entire office is in terrific shape, just listen, please. The feature on Theo Stirling has got to be stopped.’

  ‘Stopped? Why? And what with?’

  ‘Fred, if I get another set of film to you, can you make the swap? It’s urgent, we’ll be sued out of our brains if that goes ahead, and you’ll go down as well for printing it.’

  The word ‘sued’ brought Fred’s torrent of social niceties to an abrupt end.

  ‘Does Jerome know about this?’ he asked suspiciously.

  ‘Yes,’ lied Ellie firmly. ‘He’s at the theatre, he told me to go ahead. He’s even...’ Ellie paused for just a fraction. Not enough to make Fred notice, not nearly enough to make her lose her nerve. ‘He’s even talked to Angus, and they both said whatever I could arrange. I expect Angus will ring you.’

  Only the knowledge that Angus was a party to this prevented any further opposition from Fred. After all, if Angus had been given the go-ahead by Jerome, then they must know the kind of money it was going to cost them to replace something at such a critical moment. Why should he argue? More money for the printers.

  ‘Okay, Ellie, but it’s ten now. By the time you get here, it’s got to be worked on... you’ll never do it before the print run starts.’

  ‘I will, I’ll do it,’ she said, knowing that Bentley Goodman himself would be harder to placate than Jerome when they discovered what she had single-handedly masterminded.

  But the reality of course was that the record of Stefano’s merrymaking was still at the Focus office. Ellie glanced at her watch. It was nearly ten thirty.

  ‘Jed? It’s me.’ Ellie was shouting into the phone. ‘Have you got a key to the office? Who has? What? What did I say this afternoon? Oh lord, yes, all right, all right, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Jed, I am prostrate with grief for even suggesting such a thing... will that do? Good. But the keys, Jed, someone must have a set. Jed, I don’t care how you do it, but find someone, anyone who’s got a set. I may need to get in. I’ve got to stop that feature. Yes, that one. I’ll meet you at the office.’

  Suki was watching her wide eyed.

  ‘What shall I do?’ she asked.

  ‘Stay here for the night,’ Ellie advised. ‘Debra won’t be back. Then pick that ticket up tomorrow. Look, good luck. But I have to go.’

  *

  Fifteen minutes later, a taxi dropped her outside the office. Jed was sitting on the steps with a set of keys and a police officer. For one awful moment Ellie thought he had been arrested.

  ‘No such thing,’ he said indignantly. ‘Security turned the keys over but only if a policeman accompanied us, and this officer has kindly agreed to do so. Isn’t that right, Sergeant?’

  ‘Constable, sir. Now if you’ll just get a move on. I haven’t got all night.’

  Five minutes later all three arrived in the Focus office, Ellie and Jed pulling switches as they raced along the eerily deserted corridors towards the art director’s office.

  Frantically unlocking the door to the room awash with proofs, layouts, and a filing system that was beyond the combined capabilities of both Jed and Ellie, they gazed nervously at each other.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Jed, taking in the silent, vast room dominated by four computer screens. ‘Why didn’t you ever learn how to find your way around an art department? Thank God you’ve got me with you…’

  ‘Then I suggest you find the file,’ snapped Ellie, surveying the blank screens gazing unhelpfully back at her.

  ‘No problem,’ said Jed, swinging himself behind the art director’s screen. ‘What’s the name of it?’

  Ellie looked blank. ‘The name? How the hell do I know? Try the date of the issue.’

  Grabbing the mouse that would scroll up the screen, Jed found the entry for that week’s issue. Nothing in that file. He tried locating Stefano’s name. No good. Ellie’s by-line? Hopeless.

  ‘Ring the art director,’ he suggested. ‘Ask him what he’s done with it.’

  Snatching the phone, Ellie punched in his home number from a list pinned in front of her. She waited until she heard it ring a dozen times and then disgustedly threw it back into its cradle.

  ‘Keep going,’ said Ellie, moving swiftly across the room, reaching out to activate another screen. ‘I’ll use this one. It’s got to be here. I wrote it, I saw the layout. I know the film exists. Therefore it’s simply a question of calmly finding the bloody thing.’

  Frenzied precious minutes went by, each file that flashed on to the screen producing lists of features which had either been printed or were being worked on. Of the article on Stefano there was no sign.

  ‘Any luck?’ called Jed over his shoulder, as he swiftly loaded another file.

  ‘Nothing,’ groaned Ellie, as she dragged the mouse along lists of files, none of which displayed the magic title she was looking for. She gritted her teeth. ‘It’s got to be here. It’s got to be…’

  ‘Hold it, hold it, here it is,’ came Jed’s triumphant cry. ‘It’s here, I’ve got it, under something called "Washout"...Oh glory, just look at that.’ His voice finished in a wail.

  Ellie’s heart stopped. ‘What is it?’ she shrieked, scrambling across the room, sending a chair spinning in her path to where he was sitting. He was peering with such loathing at the screen Ellie was convinced he had found a major flaw in the feature.

  ‘The picture they’ve used of me and Stefano and Max,’ he said, stabbing a finger at a blurred image. ‘I told them not to use it. It’s one where you can hardly see me.’

  ‘Oh, for crying out loud,’ Ellie shouted furiously at him. ‘Just transfer it to a disk, will you?’

  She grabbed an empty disk and thrust it at Jed, who was still peering resentfully at the computer image, where only his right shoulder was discernible behind the Italian prince. Snatching the disk from Jed, stuffing the whole package into an envelope, she grabbed his arm and together they fled down the corridor to the waiting policeman.

  The keys to the building safely in the possession of the law, they raced to the back of the building where Jed’s car had been illegally parked for over half an hour.

  To their relief it hadn’t been clamped. Jed swung the car in the direction of north London and out onto the M1 to the printers. On the way she told him the whole story.

  ‘You were right, Jed,’ she admitted, shamefaced, when just before one o’clock in the morning, he swung the car into the car park at the printers. ‘He is straight. Just a little confused about some things.’

  Jed, she noticed, was trying not to look smug.

  ‘And,’ she said with dangerous calm, ‘you needn’t look so smart. After all it was you who wrote in your column that Serena had to see a psychiatrist after she divorced Theo — and that’s not true. She said she was pregnant to get him to marry her. It was a lie but he fell for it. A week later she said she wasn’t. Really, she sounded so neurotic, I’m not surprised he divorced her.’

  Jed gave her a quick look as they hurried across the c
ar park. ‘And I assume that’s not for my column,’ he said regretfully.

  Ellie didn’t bother to reply. Her judgement must be slipping. Roger Nelson had clearly been a company liability, lucky to have been offered a move sideways considering his incompetence. Amazing how some people looked good at their job but only because of a strong presence behind them. The wisdom of hindsight, she thought bitterly, was very painful and not at all helpful.

  They found Fred almost instantly, who once again got Ellie to assure him that Jerome had sanctioned switching features. After all he was going to be presenting him with a sizeable bill for all this. She unblushingly told him he had.

  It was past three o’clock when Ellie and Jed finally emerged from the printers, Ellie having given final approval on the feature on Prince Stefano and the magical night in Venice, removed the dangerous profile on Theo and heaved a fervent sigh of relief as Fred assured them, all was now well. Together they walked across the forecourt and, too tired even to think straight, headed for Jed’s car.

  ‘I still think the picture was lousy,’ he muttered. ‘Stefano looked okay though.’

  Ellie gave him a sidelong glance.

  ‘How’s that going?’

  ‘Early days, my flower. Early days. Stefano’s in London next week and he’s offered me his apartment in New York until I can find something for myself.’

  ‘And Ashley?’

  Jed thrust his hands in his pockets and kicked a stone into the distance. ‘Yes, Ashley. Well, who knows? It won’t be the same any more once I’m in New York. Ashley likes having everyone where he can reach them.’

  ‘What about you?’ Ellie asked. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘At the moment? Weekends in Venice and let the future take care of itself. And I suppose you want me to drive you home now,’ he yawned as they reached his car.

  ‘Yes, please,’ she said, making for the passenger seat.

  ‘Well, I won’t. You can drive me,’ he said and before she could protest, he climbed into the back seat, curled up and went to sleep.

  Ellie crawled into her bed at four thirty, and when her alarm sounded at seven thirty, she felt so physically disorientated she wasn’t sure she would make it through the day. But before she left for the office she made one phone call.

  She heard the receiver being picked up and a voice intoned, ‘Mr Stirling’s residence.’

  ‘Finlay, this is Eleanor Carter. Has Mr Stirling left for New York?’

  ‘He left last night, Miss. I’m not expecting him to be in London for a few weeks. Can I give him a message?’

  Suki had been telling the truth, at least about that. Ellie felt exhausted and defeated, but at least now he wouldn’t despise her for ever.

  Oh, what the hell?

  ‘Finlay, when you next speak to him, will you say Eleanor said she thought a piece on Stefano would be a better choice so she’s dropped the profile on him. I know he’ll understand. And Finlay... will you also say I said thank you?’

  ‘Of course, Miss Carter. Would you like me to tell him personally or pass that message on to his personal assistant to tell him?’

  ‘No, you tell him, Finlay,’ she said. ‘Thank you, goodbye,’ and she put the receiver down trying very hard not to break down into tears.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Ellie had never seen a more haggard looking face, as she peered into the bathroom mirror and two hours later she had to concede that nor had she ever heard language like it from Jerome or seen him in such a towering rage.

  ‘He’s in,’ Lucy whispered putting her head round the door.

  Ellie rose and walked down the carpeted corridor.

  ‘Lucy,’ she called back as she reached his office. ‘Almost forgot. Really important.’

  ‘What? More important than Jerome going to fire you?’

  Ellie laughed. ‘Infinitely more. Can you buy a single train ticket to Manchester and leave it in reception in an envelope marked Suki?

  Lucy looked blank. ‘Manchester? Of course. Anything I should know?’

  Ellie shook her head. ‘Later. Got to see a man about a printer’s bill.’

  Jerome had finally recognized his moment. The moment when this girl who had caused him such loss of face with the management, the walking evidence of how far his power really stretched — not nearly as far as he had been led to believe — the moment when he could rid himself of her.

  Ian Willoughby would have grave difficulty in defending her. Bentley Goodman would once again revert to his much more sensible opinion that Jerome was a better judge of these people and Miss snooty, bloody unapproachable Carter would be out of his life.

  There was another reason for his quite astonishing rage and that had its roots in the knowledge that he should not have been out of touch. His fury was in direct proportion to how much of a defence of his own actions he could make stand up against his all-out onslaught on what Ellie had done.

  ‘I should sack you for this,’ he fumed as Jed and Ellie sat silently in front of him. ‘I don’t give a damn what the reasons are, you have no right to change things at a whim.’

  Jerome was conscious of Ellie’s white face but her explanation for switching the features just didn’t hold water after arguing so vehemently with James earlier in the day to run it. Finally running out of steam, he told them to go, suggesting curtly that they both gave some thought to their futures and he would decide on Monday whether they would be with Focus or not.

  Ellie looked at him impassively. His wrath had left her unmoved. All she could remember was that she felt very tired, very low and this raging man in front of them, this highly paid man who didn’t deserve half of what he was paid, had gone off to the theatre on press night leaving no word where he could be found.

  Jerome was still standing behind his desk, leaning forward, resting his clenched fists on the top. Suddenly he felt uneasy. This wasn’t what he had planned. Ellie was rising to her feet, smoothing down her skirt and glancing at her watch. She didn’t even look scratched by such a blistering attack. Her voice was even and unhurried, and for some reason made him feel like an untidy schoolboy.

  ‘If you’ve finished, Jerome, then with great courtesy and respect I feel I should mention one or two things to you.’

  He found it difficult to believe what he was hearing. This woman was something else. Ellie was not so much something else as someone else.

  As Jerome had raged, a voice over and over in her head had been reminding her of a phrase she had come to live by.

  ‘No-one,’ she could hear Theo’s voice, ‘can make you feel inferior without your consent.’

  She glanced at Jerome and briefly at Jed’s surprised face, where he still sat in the armchair opposite Jerome’s desk.

  ‘If you want me to stop working here, you must say so. You had no difficulty doing it once before so I’m sure you will have even less now. If that is not what you want, then you must say that, in terms that I can understand.’

  Jerome sat down hard. This was beyond anything he should be asked to tolerate. But for reasons he couldn’t later quite recall he listened.

  He listened as Ellie let him know that no-one had the right to shout in that uncontrolled manner at anyone who was guilty of nothing more than preventing someone who was very caring and of value from being unnecessarily hurt.

  ‘If anyone had a right to shout as you did, Jerome, it should be him. Fortunately I don’t think even he will have to. And frankly knowing him as I do, I don’t think he would have lowered himself.’

  Jed threw her a startled glance. ‘Ellie,’ he said warningly. ‘Maybe we should...’

  Ellie ignored him.

  ‘I’ve learned that the worst that can ever happen to me if I lose this job is that it will be inconvenient, not life-threatening, and it no longer influences the way I live. Redundancy has seen to that. You should try it sometime, Jerome, it concentrates the mind wonderfully on what is and what isn’t important. Removing that feature without your permission was wrong of
me. But then I couldn’t find you to get that permission. That’s the worst that’s happened here. I haven’t killed anyone. The magazine won’t fold.’

  Jerome felt sick and furious and desperately longed for a freeze-frame button to push on the whole scene while he found the right words to get back on the pitch.

  ‘I’ve told you, I’ll think about it. I haven’t said you’ve lost your job.’

  ‘That’s no good, Jerome. If you want me to stay and this is simply an exercise to punish me — and Jed — before you forgive us, then please don’t waste my time. I want the decision now.’

  ‘And that goes for me too,’ said Jed, rising from his chair and joining Ellie as she walked towards the door.

  Ellie tried to prevent him. ‘No, Jed...’ but she was stopped by his lazy grin.

  ‘No good, Jerome, I don’t want to work for someone who can’t make a decision and more importantly, like Ellie, I will never again hang around while someone else decides on my future.’

  Jerome’s face was very white.

  ‘Get out, both of you,’ he breathed.

  Silently they left the room, standing courteously aside as Ian Willoughby came through the outer office en route to Jerome’s.

  ‘Blimey,’ laughed Ellie. ‘Jerome’s got them all running around him. Amazing. But Jed, you really shouldn’t have done that. It’s different for me. I know what it’s like to be out of work. I know how to live now without depending on the perks of a job, or not having an expense account. Honestly, ducky dear, with the best will in the world, you don’t.’

  ‘Patronizing cow,’ he said chummily as they reached his office door. ‘Sexist too. I rather enjoyed it and I suspect he won’t do too much to me. So, don’t give it another thought, my flower,’ he yawned. ‘I knew what I was doing. You know at this moment I’d kill for a week’s sleep.’

  The lift down to the foyer was crowded as Ellie left later that day. It was nearly six. It had been a long day.

  As she passed the reception desk, she glanced over and noticed that the envelope for Suki was gone. She sighed. Who knows? Might be a start.

  She wanted only to reach her flat and then spend the evening mugging up on the notes for the next day’s shoot.