Under a Greek Moon

by Carol Kirkwood

  ‘Oh, Roxy.’ Shauna could feel tears streaming down her own cheeks.

  ‘Shauna, he raped me, and Thierry let him do it.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t hang around, just grabbed my things and got the hell out of there. It was still early and there was no one about. I didn’t see either of them again.’

  ‘Roxy, I’m so sorry. I wish I could kill them both.’

  ‘Me too – but that’s not the worst of it. I’ve missed my period. I think I’m pregnant.’

  The two friends were silent. How had their dream trip turned into this nightmare? How had so much happiness been snatched away from them? Shauna knew her heart was broken, but she also knew it would mend. Now, she had to help Roxy.

  ‘What can I do?’ she asked.

  ‘Shauna, just get me home.’

  ‘I will … and I’ll be here for you, whatever happens.’

  ‘I know Shauna, I know …’

  PART TWO

  Hello! Magazine

  Eight months after their engagement, Sofía Constantis and Demetrios Theodosis have tied the knot at a private ceremony in Athens. Sofía is one of the world’s richest heiresses who stands to inherit millions from her shipping tycoon father. Until his engagement, Demetrios was one of Europe’s most eligible bachelors. His name had been linked to a string of beauties, including model Normandie Chapelle and actress Brooke Shields.

  Hello! has learned from a source close to the couple that the wedding took place behind closed doors, and guests included Jerry Hall, Mick Jagger and Niki Lauder.

  The couple honeymooned in New York, a favourite city of the happy groom. Construction has begun on a new wing at the family villa on the Greek island of Ithos, and they plan to move in as soon as work is complete. ‘They can’t wait to start a family,’ our source tells us.

  Chapter 13

  Manchester, March 1983

  Shauna looked at the piece of paper in her hand and checked the address at the top of the page against the plate on the wall at the entrance of the building. As the rain lashed down on them, she squinted at the lettering, trying to make out if it was a match, then nodded. ‘This is it: the Next Step Agency.’

  ‘Are you sure it’s the right place?’ Roxy asked anxiously, her shoulders huddled up to her neck, trying to stop the rainwater from trickling down the inside of her raincoat, but without much success.

  ‘Yes, it says so on the letter.’

  ‘Do we really want to do this?’

  ‘Let’s go inside. No sense hanging around in this miserable weather. It will only make things worse.’

  They climbed the two flights of stairs to a shabby landing covered with threadbare grey carpet. There was only one door, and the two of them hovered in front of it, peering through the glass panel at a woman seated at a small desk. Her mousy hair was tied up in a bun and she was chatting animatedly on the phone. When she caught sight of them through the glass, she ended her call and beckoned them in.

  ‘Here goes,’ Roxy said and went in first, followed by Shauna.

  ‘Hello, ladies, isn’t the weather shocking!’ she said in a heavy Northern accent. ‘Been raining cats and dogs for days – it’s a wonder we haven’t all floated away down the canal!’ She laughed and her eyes crinkled up at the sides behind her glasses. ‘Now what can I do for you two?’

  The girls looked at each other and Shauna handed the woman the letter. ‘It’s all in here.’

  The woman took the letter and read over its contents. ‘Ah, I see. Which one of you is the addressee?’ she asked, lowering her voice confidentially and looking them up and down.

  Roxy hesitated, ‘Um … it’s—’

  ‘Both of us,’ Shauna leapt in.

  The woman glanced from one to the other in confusion. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

  ‘Look, we just want to go in together, you know …’

  The woman seemed to consider this for a moment and then nodded. ‘Of course, it’s good to have a friend, isn’t it. Why don’t you both take a seat in the waiting area and someone will be out to see you shortly.’

  They did as they were told and sat next to each other on low armchairs that had seen better days. The woman got up and made her way to an office door, knocked once, then disappeared inside for a few minutes. When she returned, she announced, ‘Sandra will just be a few minutes, she’s with another client.’

  Shauna took off her flared trench coat. Outside, the Manchester rain made it feel as if it was still winter, but now they were sitting in the airless waiting room she was finding it unbearably hot and stuffy.

  Roxy looked around at the blank walls. ‘You’d think they’d put a few pictures up the wall, wouldn’t you – brighten it up a bit.’

  ‘Most people who come here probably aren’t worried about the décor,’ Shauna replied.

  They sat there for a few more moments, Roxy tapping her foot impatiently. Shauna touched her knee. ‘Hey, just try to relax.’

  ‘I can’t help it. I keep hoping this is all a bad dream and in a minute, I’ll wake up.’

  ‘Me too. But we’re here now, we might as well see this woman. It’s not like we have to sign anything right away, is it?’

  ‘I hope not.’ Roxy reached out for Shauna’s hand and squeezed it tightly. ‘Honestly, Shauna, I think we should go. I meant what I told you: I can do this.’

  Shauna gave her friend’s hand a squeeze in return. ‘Roxy, we’ve talked about this so many times. It would mean you’d have to give everything up. Your studies, all the work you’ve put in, all that would go to waste.’

  ‘I don’t care. You know I don’t.’

  ‘But I do.’ There were tears in Shauna’s eyes. ‘Please … You’d be putting your whole future at risk. I know you’d be willing to give it all up – you’ve got a big heart and that’s what makes you such a wonderful person – but it’s too much of a sacrifice.’

  Roxy was crying now, hot tears splashing down her cheeks. ‘Shauna, I know what you’re saying makes sense, but it all seems so unfair.’

  Shauna took a tissue out of her pocket and handed it to Roxy. ‘Dry those tears. We’ve got to be brave. Otherwise we’ll never get through this.’

  Roxy nodded, and blew her nose just as the door to the office opened and a couple in their late thirties came out. The man was beaming with happiness as he took his partner’s hand and said, ‘After all this time, we’re finally going to be a family. I can hardly believe it!’

  She was almost crying with joy as she kissed his cheek, then she turned to the woman in a tidy navy-blue suit who’d escorted them to the door and said, ‘Sandra, we just can’t thank you enough. This means everything to us.’

  As the couple left the office chattering happily, Sandra smiled and said, ‘Hello, thank you for coming, would you like to come through?’

  Shauna and Roxy looked at each other and after a moment Shauna stood up and held her hand out. ‘Come on, it’s time, let’s go.’

  Roxy stood and followed her through the door, which the woman closed quietly behind them.

  The receptionist, who’d been watching them out of the corner of her eye, resumed sorting through the contents of her in-tray. Then the phone rang, breaking the silence; she picked up the receiver and announced, ‘Good morning, Next Step Adoption Agency, how can I help you?’

  Chapter 14

  Los Angeles, 1986

  Roxy screamed and jumped up and down in excitement. ‘Oh my God oh my God oh my God, I can’t believe we’re here!’

  Shauna screamed, too. ‘It’s huge! I never thought it would be so big, and it looks just like it does on Oscar night!’

  Grauman’s Chinese Theatre on Hollywood Boulevard dominated the stretch of sidewalk, and the whole world seemed to be thronging outside the theatre as tourists gawped, ooohed and ahhed at the handprints of Hollywood royalty in concrete. Japanese tourists took pictures of each other, the shutters of their cameras clicking rapidly; a fat American boy in a baseball cap and a Top Gun T-shirt slurped a giant c
up of Coca-Cola through a straw as his mother, her coal-black hair coiffed to within an inch of its life, cooed over the handprints of Frank Sinatra. ‘Hey, Joey,’ she shouted in a New Jersey accent, ‘c’mon over here and put your hands in Frank’s!’

  ‘Shauna, look here,’ Roxy squealed. ‘It’s Elizabeth Taylor and Rock Hudson. And here’s John Travolta – ooh, he’s dreamy, I loved him in Grease.’

  Shauna picked her way through the throngs of people, her eyes cast down as she looked for the handprints of the one person that would truly make this day extra special. But even though she methodically walked up and down, scanning the ground, she didn’t find what she was looking for.

  Roxy appeared by her side. ‘Those hawkers are asking ten dollars for a “homes of the rich and famous” tour in Beverly Hills. Fancy it?’

  ‘Hmmm?’

  ‘What’re you looking for?’

  ‘Oh, nothing …’

  ‘Ah, I get it, you’re looking for Grace Kelly, aren’t you?’

  Shauna grinned sheepishly. ‘How did you guess?’

  ‘It’s only like your one obsession!’

  ‘I don’t think she’s here, though.’ Shauna’s shoulders slumped briefly before Roxy reached out and gave her shake, doing another little squeal.

  ‘Oh, this is the best day ever! I can’t believe we’re here, in LA.’

  Shauna laughed her momentary frustration away. ‘I know, who would have thought we’d make it here?’

  ‘We did, remember?’

  ‘How could I forget! What shall we do now? I’m hungry.’

  ‘Me too, let’s go find a diner.’

  Ten minutes later, they were sitting in an all-American diner around the corner, drooling over the menus. A row of chrome stools lined the gleaming counter, but they chose one of the booths with leather seats and a Formica top instead.

  ‘I’m going to have blueberry pancakes with maple syrup.’ Roxy said.

  Shauna licked her lips; it all looked delicious. When a waitress in a frilly apron came to take their order, she told her, ‘Eggs and bacon on French toast, hold the sugar.’

  ‘You sound like a local,’ Roxy said as the waitress bustled over to the kitchen hatch and shouted the order at the harassed chef, pinning the ticket next to the others.

  ‘I guess. You get used to things pretty quickly here. I love this place, the portions are huge and it’s cheap, but everything comes covered in icing sugar. It’s weird for an Irish spud like me.’

  ‘And a Liverpudlian like me,’ said Roxy. ‘What I wouldn’t give for a plate of scouse! I haven’t been home for ages.’

  ‘How are your folks?’

  ‘Me mam and dad are still fighting like cats and dogs, our Sheila is getting married to that lazy fella of hers – she wants me to make her dress. What about yours?’

  ‘You’d think this was Sodom and Gomorrah the way Mammy goes on about it. She keeps telling me not to talk to any strange men – all the men are strange in LA,’ she laughed. ‘So, tell me about Milan.’

  ‘Oh my God, it’s wild, Italians are just crazy, the men all have mistresses and the women all look a million dollars until they reach fifty, and then they all turn into widows wearing nothing but black.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘I’m kidding – just. I love it there, Shauna.’

  Roxy had beaten four other interns to the much-coveted role of fashion apprentice at the house of Missoni in Milan. So far, her job seemed to involve inventorying the fabric and making copious amounts of strong coffee for the design team.

  ‘I’m learning so much. Everyone there is super-creative.’

  ‘I’m happy for you, Roxy. It’s just what you wanted.’

  Their food arrived, giant portions steaming as the waitress placed the plates in front of them. ‘Enjoy. Have a nice day.’

  ‘This would feed my entire family.’

  ‘I’ve given up trying to finish the portions here, I’d end up as fat as a house if I did.’

  ‘I hate you, Shauna O’Brien, you can eat what you like and never put on an ounce.’

  ‘So can you. You’re as tall as a basketball player.’

  They tucked in and after a few mouthfuls. Roxy returned to the subject of Milan. ‘It’s really hard work, we have to work long hours for a pittance, but the clothes are mind-blowing, and the men … well, let’s say I’m taking an accelerated course in Italian!’

  They both giggled.

  ‘So, how about you?’

  ‘I feel so lucky, Roxy. It’s taken me a while to make friends, but we never have any time for socializing anyway.’

  ‘It’s funny how things turned out, both of us landing up in our dream destinations.’

  ‘Yes, if that accountancy firm I worked for after uni hadn’t opened an office in LA, I would still be slogging away in a dreary office in Tottenham Court Road, rather than in Hollywood.’

  After her finals at university, Shauna had applied to work for large firm of accountants in London. It was as dull as she had thought it would be, but when the company opened an office in LA, Shauna had badgered her boss to let her relocate there for a year. He liked her and agreed. Her first few months had been an eye-opener. It felt like she’d stepped into a movie: Hollywood seemed to be full of roller-skaters sailing along the sidewalks with huge earphones clamped over their ears, cute dogs trotting along beside their Lycra-clad owners, agitated taxi drivers argued noisily with other drivers at the lights … Best of all, you could get pizza and Chinese food delivered to your home, something unheard of in Ireland. Shauna had also discovered that Americans tended to be hardworking, ambitious and upbeat. Everyone and everything seemed larger than life.

  She had got herself noticed and after a year in the LA office followed one of her colleagues when they moved to a large production company based in the city’s financial district. Shauna had worked hard; she was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. She put herself forward for extra duties, networked like crazy between departments and had managed to move sideways into location work, assisting the location manager on shoots, helping keep a tight rein on budgets. She shared a tiny apartment with another girl who worked at the same company, though they never seemed to see each other much as they were always working.

  ‘What about this movie you’re making?’ Roxy said with a mouthful of pancake.

  ‘Don’t talk with your mouth full, Roxy. I’m not involved with making the movie as such; my job is just to try to stop us going over budget. But, Roxy, it’s incredible. Tom Cruise is the star, and he’s amazing. Works harder and longer than anyone else. It’s being directed by Dan Jackson – it’s his first really big-budget movie and he’s so intense and meticulous when he’s working, but when he isn’t, he’s the nicest fella.’

  ‘Shauna O’Brien, your eyes are shining! This Dan Jackson must really be something!’

  ‘Oh, don’t be silly, it’s nothing like that. He’s so inspiring, that’s all. I’ve learned so much about movie-making even in the small amount of time I’ve been allowed on set.’

  ‘How are the acting classes going?’

  Shauna blushed. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘You can’t hide anything from me.’

  ‘I feel silly, to be honest. I’m going to have to give them up. The hours are too long at work and I keep missing lessons – the teacher has completely lost faith in me.’

  Roxy shook her finger at Shauna and tut-tutted. ‘Never give up on your dreams, honey.’

  For a moment, Shauna was taken back in time, to a moment when someone else had told her that. Her face clouded but she shook away the memory, then looked at her watch.

  ‘Oh, Lord, is that the time? I have to be back at the office. We’ve got another crisis budget meeting. The film is about to move locations and the producer, Jerry Bruckheimer, is worried about overspending. I think we’re going to get hauled over the coals.’

  ‘Shit, that bad?’

  ‘We’ll put up a good fight – I’ve learned n
ot to get walked all over here, they’ll eat you for breakfast.’

  ‘Fighting talk.’

  ‘You bet, though what Jerry says goes. What are you doing this afternoon?’

  Roxy leaned in conspiratorially. ‘I can’t believe I’m telling you this – it’s my Cinderella moment! I’m going with one of the head designers to a fitting. You’ll never guess who.’

  ‘Tell me immediately!’

  ‘It’s only Kathleen Turner – she wants a dress for the Oscars.’

  Shauna’s mouth dropped open. ‘She’s gorgeous!

  ‘Doesn’t seem real, huh? I’ll just be making notes and measurements, but I hope they’ll let me make the dress! Well, maybe cut some of the fabric and do some stitching at any rate.’

  ‘There’ll be no dress and no job for either of us if we don’t get going, eat up!’

  Roxy shovelled in another couple of mouthfuls.

  ‘It was so much fun today, Roxy,’ Shauna said. ‘I’m glad we found the time before you go back to Milan.’

  ‘I’m sorry you didn’t find Grace’s handprints though.’

  ‘Me too.’ Shauna paused. ‘I still can’t believe she’s gone.’

  In September 1982, Grace Kelly had been killed in a car accident; her daughter Stephanie had been lucky to escape with her life. It felt as if the whole world was in shock, unable to absorb the tragedy that had cut short such a glittering and extraordinary life. Shauna had nursed her own private grief, one more terrible blow in that awful year of sadness and heartache.

  ‘Did I ever tell you I met her once?’

  ‘Sure, you did, and only about a million times …’

  It had been wonderful to see Roxy, and Shauna had felt the familiar pang of separation as they hugged goodbye a few days later. Roxy was going back to Milan and who knew when they would see each other again. But Roxy had left her something beautiful to remember her by. It was a trouser suit, wide-legged pants matched with a double-breasted jacket made of oatmeal wool that felt as light as a feather. She felt so grown-up and sophisticated in it and the tailoring was beautiful.