Cara laughed softly. ‘And I’m in love with you.’
Declan pulled her to him and kissed her passionately. ‘This feels beyond belief.’
Cara grabbed the bottle from the table. ‘Let’s not forget this.’
‘It’s good stuff,’ Declan said as he tried to focus on the label. ‘Have you got any more?’
‘I don’t think we’ll need it,’ she said as, laughing, they raced up the stairs.
Chapter Ninety-Six
I’m sitting in Jonathan Gold’s office. It’s late and the only light is from his desk lamp which casts soft, shapeless shadows round the sumptuous room. The coffee table is littered with dead cups.
‘Well . . .’ Jonathan says and spreads his hands.
The journalist from the News of the World has just left. Her tape recorder whirred for over an hour while she grilled me like a sardine. Now I’m feeling vaguely battered. Like cod if you want to keep up the fish analogy.
‘How do you think it went?’ I say anxiously.
‘Fine,’ he says. ‘You did fine.’ He comes round his desk and leans against it, crossing his long elegant legs. ‘Now you have a few days’ grace before notoriety shines on you again.’
‘Don’t remind me,’ I say with an uneasy shiver.
‘It’ll be different this time,’ Jonathan assures me. ‘We’ll control it.’
‘And I won’t lose my job and my home.’
‘No,’ he says. ‘Quite the contrary.’ He hands me an envelope from his desk. ‘Inside, there’s a very large cheque.’
‘Thanks,’ I say. I stuff the envelope in my handbag, even though I’m desperate to get a look at how much it is. ‘I’m still uncertain how I feel about it,’ I admit. On the one hand it was pretty easy money and on the other it cost me a lot to do it. I sigh and hope that one day I’ll get my head round it.
Jonathan shrugs. ‘People compromise their principles every day, Emily,’ he says with the casual air of a man who has seen and heard too much to be shocked by anything. ‘Some people have no principles at all. Each of us do what we have to do to get through the day.’
I hang my head. ‘I am grateful.’
Jonathan smiles. ‘Grateful enough to let me buy you dinner?’
I look down at my clothes. ‘I’m not dressed for it,’ I say.
‘You look beautiful,’ Jonathan insists. ‘You worry too much.’
I look up and laugh. ‘I get it from my mother.’
‘Chinese or Italian?’ he asks.
What I really want to do is curl up in my bed and sleep for a week. ‘I don’t think I’m in any fit state to make such a difficult decision.’
‘Italian,’ Jonathan says. ‘The cutlery will take less co-ordination.’
‘Great choice,’ I say with a smile. Standing, I stretch and rub my hands over my eyes. I feel as if this is the end when really it is all just beginning again.
Jonathan comes and takes my hands in his. They are cool and soft. ‘You’ve handled this brilliantly,’ he says. ‘You should be very proud of yourself.’
‘Thanks,’ I say, and realise that Jonathan doesn’t know that I have yet to face my best friend, whose finest quality is that she is principled and perfect in every way. And I wonder how the hell I’m going to tell Cara that I’m getting my kit off again in one of the sauciest tabloids on the market.
Chapter Ninety-Seven
Dinner went well – but it was nothing special, and there’s no way that Jonathan and I will be sailing off into the sunset on a yacht that I’ve bought with my filthy lucre. Perhaps it was my mood, but Jonathan Gold, however attractive he may be, just doesn’t light my fire. The flames flicker a bit and then die out. It’s that pesky Adam who still seems to get my motor running.
Now, here I am, key in the door, back at Cara’s house and it’s not yet the witching hour. Although you could say it’s always the witching hour in this house.
There’s giggling coming from the kitchen and my heart sinks. Perhaps Adam has decided to have one last fling before settling down in unholy matrimony, and I don’t think I can bear this after my long, stressy day. Perhaps I should just sneak upstairs and let them get on with it.
Oh what the hell. I brace myself and plod through to the kitchen where I’m bemused, and more than a little shocked, to see Declan and Cara wrapped round each other. Declan has Cara’s dressing-gown on and she is wearing his boxer shorts and nothing else. They are feeding bits of bacon and toast into one another’s mouths as if it’s caviar.
I stop in my tracks. Cara is eating bacon. I have clearly wandered into a parallel universe.
‘Emily,’ Declan says in a very cheerful way.
I did wonder, for a minute, whether I might be invisible. I guess I should be shocked by this little tableau before me, but I’m not. Does that mean I’ve become a hardened media hag, my exterior crust impenetrable? Or does it simply mean that I really don’t love Declan any more?
‘The spell works,’ Cara says, licking bacon grease from her fingers with something approaching relish.
I want to sit down but daren’t, because that means I’ll have to linger in here. In the real world, you see, my feet are killing me. ‘What spell?’
‘The spell that makes someone fall in love with you.’
‘Oh good,’ I say. Bloody hell. Declan and Cara look dreamily into each other’s eyes just like Brad and Jennifer do.
‘We both drank it by mistake,’ my friend explains as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. And they chuckle childishly at each other.
‘Oh.’ None of Cara’s spells have ever worked. I think they must both be hallucinating or suffering from delusions. Or both. Declan was never that stable either. Perhaps the impending threat of bankruptcy has pushed him over the edge.
‘You don’t mind, do you?’ Cara says.
‘No,’ I say. And I don’t really. I feel vaguely stunned and amused by it all, but that’s about it. My heart has decided to tackle far more complicated situations than Declan has ever created. I think they’ve both had a skinful and are going to have massive hangovers in the morning and will feel very silly.
‘I’m so pleased,’ Cara says and lunges towards me, involving me in some sort of greasy group hug. So some things never change. ‘You won’t let this come between us?’
‘No,’ I say, and laugh even though I’m miserable. And I won’t say ‘I told you so’ when it all ends in tears. ‘I’m cool.’
‘Good,’ Cara slurs, ‘because I love you. You are my bestest, bestest friend in the world. I love you, Emily. I really, really love you.’
‘Yes. Good.’ I try to untangle myself. ‘I love you too.’ Then: ‘I’m off to bed,’ I say. I want to warn them not to make a noise, but that’s probably rather pointless. I can always find something to stuff up my ears with, I suppose.
‘I’m sorry for everything,’ Declan says. I smile at him and not just because he looks absolutely ridiculous. If I was a vengeful old cow, I’d whip out the camera right now. ‘I’ve brought you a cheque,’ he says. ‘The first of many.’ He is swaying slightly. ‘I’ll pay off everything.’
‘Good,’ I say. ‘I’ll hold you to it.’
‘I’m glad we can all still be friends.’ Cara is weaving unsteadily. ‘We have been through so, so much together!’
‘Yes,’ I say, ‘and there’s going to be a tiny bit more.’
‘Mmm . . .’ Cara says, gazing at Declan.
‘I’m going to be in the News of the World on Sunday, showing my bottom again.’
‘Lovely,’ Cara beams.
‘Night then.’ I wave to them both and rush off up to bed, before Cara realises what I’ve said. Mind you, there’s no way she can give me a hard time after this. I rub my hands joyfully and enjoy a wicked little laugh.
Chapter Ninety-Eight
It was Saturday afternoon and Adam was nervous. He was pacing about in his new flat, trying not to make too many clonking sounds on the wood flooring. It still didn’t feel quite like h
e belonged here. And that was probably because there was no way, even if he lived to be a million, that he’d ever be able to afford somewhere like this without Toff’s benevolence. Adam felt like hugging himself. Oh, but this place was fabulous. And he was nervous because he really, really wanted Josh to think so, too.
Adam checked his watch. Laura was bringing his son over with all his stuff and it was too scary for words. He’d waited so long for this moment and now he couldn’t quite believe it was here. He felt he was being given a chance to be a proper father to Josh again.
Adam had checked out the stereo in Josh’s room with the latest Britney CD. It sounded dire to him, but he hoped Josh would like it. He’d bought them a new football in honour of the new garden and it stood looking vaguely pathetic and small in the corner of the cavernous room. In the kitchen there was a huge freezer, much more practical than the eight-inch ice box that Adam had struggled with for the last few years, filled with kid’s type food – burgers, chips, pizzas, tons of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. The fridge held enough Coke to float a Caribbean cruise ship. Before he had time to consider, again, whether he had enough biscuits, the door bell rang.
Laura stood there looking as stretched as she ever had. Dark, distressed eyes shone out from her chalk-white face. At least she might look better if she was able to get a bit of a tan in Australia, Adam thought. She had a large suitcase and for one mad moment Adam considered asking her to move in here with them both.
Josh stood next to her looking like a latterday evacuee. His holdall, too big for his short legs, dragged on the ground. He was drowned by his jacket and jeans, a twelve-year-old slave to the ridiculous fashion of wearing everything seventeen sizes too big. Adam had never seen his son look tinier. He looked like he wanted to hold Laura’s hand, but she was too weighed down by baggage to spare one.
‘Hi,’ Adam said in an overly manic voice. ‘Come in.’
Josh and Laura clonked past him, their eyes widening in amazement as they took in the stylish minimalism of the flat. His son dropped his holdall on the floor.
‘Wow, Dad!’ Josh breathed. ‘Do we live here?’
Adam noticed Laura flinch slightly.
‘Yes,’ Adam said. ‘Do you like it?’
‘Yeah!’ Josh enthused. ‘Where’s my room?’ And he raced off.
Adam and Laura faced each other awkwardly.
‘I don’t think he’s going to miss me,’ Laura said.
‘Of course he will,’ Adam assured her gently. ‘It’s just that everything’s new and exciting here.’
‘This is very flash,’ Laura said, surveying the lounge.
‘Toff owns it,’ Adam said with a shrug. ‘I haven’t just won the lottery.’
‘I did wonder.’
‘How’s it going?’ Adam asked.
‘Badly.’ Laura studied her feet. ‘Barry’s devastated.’
‘He can come round here any time he wants to,’ Adam said.
‘Thanks,’ Laura said. ‘I’ll tell him.’
Josh rushed back in. ‘I’ve got a stereo and everything, Mum,’ he said, as if Christmas had come early. Adam wished he could remember a time when he had been so easily pleased.
‘I’d better go,’ Laura said. She pulled Josh to her and ruffled his hair. ‘Look after your dad for me.’
Josh held onto her. ‘I will.’
‘I’ll be back before you know it,’ she said as she kissed his hair, and the tears rolled down her cheeks.
‘Take care,’ Adam said as she slowly disentangled herself from their son.
‘I will.’ She walked to the door.
‘He’s got his own computer. I’ll set him up an Internet account,’ Adam promised. ‘Find yourself a cybercafé and you can contact him whenever you want.’
‘I’ll do that.’ Laura started to cry again. Sad, silent tears. ‘Why am I doing this, Adam?’
‘I have no idea,’ he said.
She laughed and took a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose. ‘You know, Adam, you’ll need to get some new clothes if you’re going to live in such luxury,’ she remarked dryly, as she ran a hand tenderly over his shirt. ‘You look like a scarecrow who’s stumbled into the middle of the Ritz.’
‘He’ll be OK here,’ Adam said.
‘I know.’ And with that Laura kissed his cheek lightly and walked out of their lives.
Adam closed the door behind her and leaned heavily against it. His son’s miserable face looked up at him. ‘You OK?’ Adam checked.
Josh nodded. ‘Yeah.’ He scuffed the toe of his trainer against the immaculate oak floor. ‘Do you think Mum will miss me?’
Adam let out a long breath and put his arm round Josh’s shoulders. ‘More than she realises.’
‘It’s great being here with you, Dad.’ Josh leaned against him and a smile split his son’s face. ‘Can we go and play football?’
Adam grinned back even though he felt like crying. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Why not?’
Chapter Ninety-Nine
The upstairs function room of the Jiggery-Pokery had been done out with balloons. Cara had spent all afternoon exercising her lungs by blowing them up. They hung in swathes from the ceiling and floated in bunches from every table. There was an Oriental fusion buffet, provided by obliging outside caterers when Cara had realised that bacon butties were on the outer limits of the Jig’s culinary capabilities. A banner which said SORRY YOU’RE LEAVING! hung limply above the large cake iced with similar sentiments.
The disco was in full flow. She hadn’t really imagined that Martin the Editor would be an aficionado of 1980s’ pop music, but there he was, bopping away with gay abandon to the Communards with Mad Michelle from the Classified Ads department. Then again, you never knew what people would do after a few drinks.
In the middle of the throng, Adam and Chris were dancing too, badly but enthusiastically, both looking very much the worse for wear. Adam glanced over and caught her eye and winked a very sober wink for someone whose arms and legs seemed to have no co-ordination.
Declan’s arm snaked round her waist and she leaned into him, gazing up. She didn’t know whether it was still the after-effects of the spell, but everything about him was gorgeous and overblown. He smelled of vanilla and pine forests and baking cakes. She looked up at him and his eyes smouldered back and he pulled her to him, kissing her tenderly. Whether it was magic or not that had brought them together, she didn’t care. Cara was loving every minute of it.
The DJ slowed the music down and Adam came over to them. ‘Can I take this gorgeous lady away from you for one dance?’ he said breathlessly to Declan.
‘You can,’ Declan said and kissed Cara as she reluctantly eased herself away from him.
Adam took her hand and led her to the dance floor. Bonnie Tyler croaked out ‘A Total Eclipse of the Heart’. He wound his arms round her, swaying slightly more than was necessary. Cara smiled to herself. ‘I hate this song,’ Adam said.
‘Me too,’ she laughed.
‘Thanks for doing all this.’ He gestured at the balloons and the cake, the crowd of partying colleagues.
‘You’re welcome. We had to give you a good send-off.’ Cara looked bashful. ‘The Hampstead Observer won’t be the same without you.’
‘No,’ Adam said with a sigh. ‘I’ll miss it.’
‘You will not!’ Cara laughed.
Adam held her tighter. ‘I’m sorry that things didn’t . . . you know . . . work out between us,’ he said hesitantly. ‘Bad timing, et cetera.’
‘Story of my life,’ Cara tutted. I did love you, Adam, she said to herself.
‘You look fairly well set up now,’ he said, glancing back at the bar where Declan stood watching them.
‘I am.’
‘That is Declan the Internet rogue you’re with, isn’t it?’
Cara grinned. ‘It is.’ They stumbled round nearly in time to the music. ‘It’s a long story,’ she said. ‘One day, if you’re very good, I might tell you about it.’
�
��Come over to the flat,’ he offered. ‘You’ll probably hate it. It’s all painted white. Come for supper. I’m going to try to learn how to cook.’
‘I’d love to.’ They lapsed into silence.
‘I’m glad you’re happy,’ Adam said. ‘Just make sure you don’t let him near you with a digital camera.’
‘Don’t worry,’ she giggled. ‘I won’t.’
Adam raised his eyebrows. ‘How does Emily feel about you taking up with her old boyfriend?’
At the mention of her friend’s name, her conscience pricked with guilt. ‘She’s fine about it. Absolutely fine.’
‘I thought you might have brought her with you tonight,’ Adam said. ‘We’ve been threatening to meet each other for a long time.’
‘Yes,’ Cara said. ‘Emily’s busy tonight.’ She tried not to think of her friend sitting forlornly at home alone with only Cilla Black and Matthew Kelly for company.
‘Ah yes,’ he said. ‘Emily’s in love with someone else, isn’t she?’
‘Yes,’ Cara said and the words almost stuck in her throat. ‘She is. And what about you?’
‘Oh, you never know,’ Adam said too brightly. ‘I might find myself a woman one of these days.’
‘I do hope so, Adam,’ she said.
‘Yeah, well. Josh keeps nagging me enough.’
‘How’s he liking the new flat?’
‘Loves it,’ Adam said. ‘He’s got the place looking like a nuclear disaster zone already.’
‘Where is he tonight?’
‘At home. Toff’s babysitting. They’ve got a Chinese takeaway and Terminator 2 on video.’
‘Sounds like a great night.’
‘Yeah,’ Adam said. ‘I think Toff’s secretly enjoying his new position as favourite uncle and role model.’
‘Are you still going to take Josh out to Luigi’s every week?’
‘I expect so,’ Adam said. ‘It’s part of the Jackson family tradition. I’m taking him for lunch there tomorrow too. A sort of celebration.’
‘That’s nice.’ Cara was choked. She squeezed Adam’s arm. ‘I want everything to work out for you,’ she said with a crack in her voice. ‘You know that.’
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