'My dear Helen, it's nice to know you've got my welfare so much to heart, but there's absolutely no need for you to concern yourself with something that only exists in your imagination.' And kindly direct your energies elsewhere, Liz pleaded silently, but Helen was not ready to leave the subject yet.
'I must say, I like Louise enormously… and she's much nearer Adam's age.'
'You're quite right. He's much too old for me… and I like Louise enormously too… I hope they'll be very happy together. For heaven's sake, Helen, I agree with everything you say, now can we drop it?' Talk then became general, and promising to babymind the following morning, at long last Liz was allowed to ring off.
'Ah, Lizzie, John wants a word with you some time today.' Polly stopped her just outside the rehearsal room. 'He's got a meeting of the trustees until about four. Come in and tell me all about last night, won't you?'
Not all, Liz thought, not all, while her lips smiled and said:
'Of course I will, Polly.'
Martin joined her and together they went into the room and Liz found his arm round her shoulder a comfort and his breezy chatter took her mind off things. Clutching the stage director's book to her, she sat quietly awaiting Carlyon's entrance, glad that she could at least hide in the normality of work. The room filled quickly with chattering actors and breaking away from one group, Martin crossed to her and asked:
'What's the matter with Carlyon this morning, do you know?'
Startled, Liz said: 'What do you mean?'
'There's a rumour going round that he's in a foul mood and snapping everyone's head off. No one would think we'd had a success on our hands last night. I wondered if you knew what was biting him?' Liz looked quickly to see if there was anything more in the question, but Martin's face showed only bland interest. She shook her head and at that moment the man in question strode in, an aura of no nonsense about him that quietened the chatter immediately. Throwing a sharp look around the room, he said evenly:
'Now we've got last night over and done with—perhaps I can have your attention with this little lot,' and he threw the script on to the desk, dragged up a chair and waited, with unconcealed impatience, as his company seated themselves for the first read-through. This was achieved with a maximum amount of efficiency, everyone determined to keep on the right side of Adam Carlyon, who was obviously in a dark mood. Liz answered his queries and made necessary notes, managing not to look fully at him while doing so, but during a break while she set the furniture in place for the plotting rehearsal to follow, she saw him go over to a rather subdued Louise and hold a long and serious conversation with her. When the scene had been set in readiness, Liz sat down in her chair next to Adam's empty one and waited.
'Hello, Liz.'
It was Tracey smiling sweetly down at her and Liz, not quite trusting the expression on her face, wondered why she warranted this unusual attention.
'Did you have a simply marvellous time last night? Of course, you shouldn't have been there at all, should you? so it was a special treat. Wasn't it sweet of Adam to take you under his wing like that… so noble.'
'Come off it, Tracey,' said Martin, overhearing. 'If that's being noble I'm a peer of the realm!' He winked at Liz, who smiled gratefully back at him. Tracey pouted prettily at Martin, but she had made her point.
'Right,' Adam Carlyon's voice cut through the babble. 'Let's waste no more time. We've read it through, now we'll plot the first act.'
There were surreptitious glances at watches and pulling of faces and the rehearsal got under way. From then on Liz only had half her mind on her job, the other half was continually making and rejecting speeches to be delivered with the maximum amount of composure to Adam. Unfortunately he left abruptly at the finish without her having the chance to put her final choice into practice.
Remembering Polly's request that she go and see John, Liz made her way to his office and hearing his brisk, 'Come in' was met by a smiling John who took her hands in his and led her to a chair.
'Lizzie love, you did a splendid job last night. I didn't get much of a chance to say how pleased I was, so busy organising the VIPs, but both Adam and I were proud of you. Sherry?' Liz nodded, glowing happily. 'We've had news of Paul,' John continued. 'He's got pneumonia and I don't know when he'll be able to come back. He handed over a glass, giving her a straight look. 'Liz, it's been decided to bring someone in as stage director. I know you'll be disappointed, but I've had to be impartial and look at things from every angle. I did consider you myself, but certain members of the theatre trust pointed out that we do need someone with a little more experience in taking the responsibility over a long period, and I don't think you realise how tiring that can be.' He rubbed his chin pensively with his thumb and said abruptly: 'You are disappointed, aren't you?'
Liz was surprised at how disappointed she was, but she owed it to John not to show it, so she forced a smile and shook her head.
'It all happened so quickly that I haven't had time to think that far ahead.' She was pleased to see the look of relief cross John's face.
'Bless you for understanding! I should be grateful if you would continue until our replacement is available, that's next Monday. Harry Dean's a good chap, I'm sure you'll find him easy to get on with.' John sipped his drink, glad to have got that over and done with, and pointedly changed the subject. 'You haven't forgotten the christening next Sunday, I hope? Helen's getting steamed up about it already.'
They chatted a few more minutes and then Liz made her escape. The library, she was thankful to find, was empty. Leaning on the windowsill, she gazed out, but the view was just a backcloth for her thoughts. What she had said to John was basically true, but she would not have been human if the thought had not crossed her mind that perhaps the promotion might become permanent. Liz considered that from John's manner he might have given her a trial, but obviously not everyone thought the same, especially if the trust comprised of General Carters! She gave a mental shrug, thinking philosophically that this week would at least be good experience, and was brought sharply out of her reverie by the unexpected opening of the door. She turned, startled, and her heart sank. This just was not going to be her day.
'So this is where you're hiding?' Adam said, frowning. 'You look pale, aren't you well?'
If anything was needed to bring her under control, his expressionless voice was the douche she required.
'Quite well, thank you,' she replied in a voice equal to his own for coolness. 'I'm glad I can have a word with you. I would like to thank you for looking after me so well last night. I know it was all in the line of duty, but it was very good of you and I appreciate it.'
There! It was said. And comparatively easy to say to his back as he replaced the books he was carrying on to the shelves, but not so easy to meet the stare her well-rehearsed speech produced and she rushed on:
'I must have had more champagne than I thought, I'm not used to it and I can't remember much of the latter part of the evening at all!' She laughed uncertainly. 'Hope I didn't do anything silly.' Silly! Ye gods!
'Not at all, Elizabeth. On the contrary, I found the evening most enlightening.'
Now what, thought Liz, did he mean by that? Although it was obvious he regretted the whole affair as much as she, he had looked positively forbidding all day. Adam opened a book and turned some pages.
'You should know me well enough by now to realise that I never waste my time or my energy.' He stopped and looked up, saving abruptly: 'It seemed to me that you enjoyed last night?'
Liz felt her cheeks redden as the dark eyes flicked a piercing glance in her direction and then down at the book again.
'Yes, yes… of course I did,' she stammered under this direct attack.
'No one's going to hold you to anything you said or did, Elizabeth, so stop throwing words like duty around.' He delved into his briefcase. 'Here, I've something for you.' He handed her a small parcel and at her surprised, 'What is it?'
He said: 'Open it and find out. There's
a letter inside.' He moved to the door, saying brusquely: 'It's obvious John's told you about Harry Dean.'
It had been too much to hope that her eyes had not given her away.
'Mm… he's a good man, you'll find him easy to work with.' He paused as if about to say more, then merely nodded and went out.
If someone tells me once more that I'll find this paragon Harry Dean easy to get on with, I'll scream, Liz thought bitterly, and suddenly realising that she would have to hurry, she pushed the mysterious parcel into her shoulder-bag and promptly forgot all about it.
Judy had left a message for her when she got back to the flat that night. Liz read:
' "Ye not too olde Cornish pasty in fridge if hungry. See middle page of evening paper. Simon will pick you up on Sunday. Hope everything is okay with you. Okay with me. Love, Judy ".' Liz considered the pasty and just as quickly rejected it, and opening the paper as instructed her eyes were immediately arrested by a photograph under 'Theatre News'. Feeling suddenly very tired, Liz got ready for bed. She lay there, just staring up at the ceiling, the paper lying discarded by the bed.
As is often the case when you see yourself in print, those two people seemed strangers. Liz remembered all the other newspaper photographs she had seen over the past two years. Remembered all the other radiant girls laughing at the other non-smiling Adam Carlyon's and wondered drearily whether they too, captured in one split second, had as little significance as the one before her now.
Judy insisted that she cut the photograph out. 'Do it now while you think about it or else the paper will only get thrown away. It's a good one of you both.'
Liz shrugged. 'I suppose I ought to keep it for posterity. Do you feel like coming to a party after the show on Saturday? John's got a bar extension as a consolation for those who couldn't be invited to the official do. It's called "scrubbers' night out"!'
'Oh, I should have loved to have come,' said Judy, disappointed, 'but my two days off fall mid-week.'
'Never mind, there's bound to be another, although not with that delightful title, I hope. Now, where are my scissors?' and rummaging in her bag she added: 'Martin especially wanted you to come, it seems in a rash moment you promised to teach him the tango!'
Judy laughed. 'I'd hoped he'd forgotten about that.'
'Heavens!' Liz said in surprise. 'I forgot all about this,' and she brought out the small brown parcel.
'It's not your birthday, is it?' asked Judy in some alarm.
Liz laughed. 'No. Adam Carlyon gave it to me yesterday. I've no idea what it is.' She untied the string and opened up the paper. 'It's a book.'
'And beautifully bound,' said Judy. 'What is it?'
'The Collected Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning,' read Liz. 'Now who…?'
'Look, here's a letter.'
Opening the folded piece of paper, Liz then held it so that Judy could see it and together they read the contents.
"Dear Miss Browning,
Mr Carlyon was kind enough to call on us to explain what had happened at the canal. My husband and I can never thank you enough for what you did. The boys have promised never to go near water again until they can swim and we are taking them for lessons now every week. We wanted to give you something—of course, nothing can ever repay what you did, and I understand that you want to forget the whole thing. We never shall. Mr Carlyon thought that this book would please you. Again, thank you with all our hearts,
Yours sincerely,
Elsie Granger."
On the flyleaf was written. "With sincere and heartfelt thanks from Elsie and James Granger, Thomas and Christopher."
'What a lovely letter!' breathed Judy. Liz nodded. 'What a lovely book. It's old but in beautiful condition. They couldn't have bought me a nicer present.'
'Yes, Carlyon has good taste, hasn't he?' Judy commented. 'He must have given it thought.'
'Yes, yes, he must,' agreed Liz absently. The Scrubbers' Night Out party was notable for only one thing. As Adam Carlyon drove the Morgan out of the theatre car park, the headlights picked up the figure of Martin Sutton kissing Elizabeth Browning, very thoroughly. As the whole point of the evening's exercise had been to show that same Adam Carlyon that Elizabeth Browning had a perfectly adequate sex life, Liz should have been satisfied.
Luckily on Sunday the rain of the week dispersed, leaving a typically crisp, sunny September day. As Simon drove Liz to the church the trees were a blaze of autumnal colour. He parked the Stag behind the rest of the line of cars and Liz searched the crowd of relations chatting on the steps and found Adam Carlyon talking to her father. It seemed that they were the last to arrive, and Helen's worried face cleared when she saw Liz.
'Here, she's all yours now, chum,' and they made their way inside.
The baby's chubby hand reached out for the brightly coloured flowers on Liz's hat. She had decided to wear a chocolate brown trouser suit with a white and brown spotted blouse tied at the neck by a large bow. As a mad afterthought she finished the ensemble with a delicious natural straw hat with white, brown and pink daisies decorating the large brim. A long brown ribbon hung down the back. Liz soon realised that the ribbon was a mistake and turned gratefully to her rescuer, who removed Emma's fist gently.
'Good afternoon, Elizabeth.'
'Hello, Adam.' It was no good. She couldn't meet his eyes and hurriedly gave Emma a rubber rabbit as compensation for the ribbon, hoping it wasn't the squeaky variety or else the vicar would have an unexpected accompaniment, not set down in normal christening services.
In the cool of the church Liz sneaked a glance at Adam standing by her side and thought it a pity that Polly or Jane were not there to appreciate how dishy he looked. The light grey suit complemented the aubergine shirt and flowered matching tie, all of which looked madly expensive. He moved and caught her look, lifting a brow with a quizzical question in his eyes. Liz felt herself colouring and wishing she could remain cool and collected where this man was concerned, covered up by whispering:
'Do you think you could hold the hymnbook for us both?, I don't think I can manage with this bundle of inquisitiveness.' He smiled assent and Emma twisted round and gave him a beautiful toothless smile back.
Adam had a good voice and was not afraid to use it. Liz always enjoyed singing in church and it made her absurdly pleased to join him in the familiar hymns, matching her voice with his. She found the service moving in its simplicity and Emma was quite good, only showing slight apprehension when Liz handed her over to the vicar, but his voice must have reassured her and she remained beautifully solemn throughout.
When it was over there was the usual family discussion as to who was going back in whose car. Emma had fallen asleep on Liz's shoulder and rather than chance disturbing her by giving her back to Helen, she slid carefully into the Harvey car, which was big and roomy, managing not to wake her. Liz could see Simon wrangling amicably with their cousin Antonia, and the two young Harvey boys fighting over who would go in Adam's car, and ending up sharing the seat between them. In the end, everyone sorted themselves out and they drove back in convoy.
Once there Liz transferred Emma to her cot, and soon car doors slammed and raised voices heralded the arrival of the rest of the family while Liz hurried to help supervise coats and hats.
'My God, Liz, what a collection of relations!' Liz turned and found her cousin Antonia grinning at her. 'I've managed to steer clear of Great-Aunt Annie so far, but I don't think my luck will last. She has a predatory look in her eyes whenever she looks at me.'
Liz laughed. 'I was only thinking the same thing, Toni. Come and sit with me on the stairs. We may escape her eagle eye there.'
'Who's that gorgeous male who was godfather?' asked Antonia as they made their way through the crush.
'Adam Carlyon. He's guest director at the Civic,' replied Liz, thinking she ought to have a record made.
'He looks interesting. Does he live up to his looks?'
'Not knowing your requirements, I can't answer that, but as a directo
r he's good.' Liz settled herself on the second stair up. 'How's the rag trade these days, and what are you doing in Queensbridge anyway, Toni? I thought you'd shaken its dust off your feet forever more?'
'Only visiting, ducky. That's why I'm here today. Coincidence really.' Antonia lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, glancing over the banister at the room full of people. 'I must say Helen's surprised me, I never thought to see her surrounded by so much domesticity. And our Simon's the same isn't he?'
'Oh, Toni! You and Simon always did argue, right from kindergarten,' teased Liz.
Antonia grinned. 'I saw him in London about two months ago and we did manage to last through a theatre matinee and a meal without actually coming to blows. When are you coming to visit my new flat?'
'Auntie told me about it. I'd love to come, but heaven knows when I'll get a long weekend free. If I do, I'll let you know.'
'Good. Oh, lord, there's Mother signalling me now,' said Antonia, peering through the banisters. 'I can't pretend I haven't seen her. Help, wish me luck! I've obviously got to put up with Great-aunt passing disparaging remarks about girls living on their own in London.'
Liz laughed in sympathy and watched her cousin fling back her long dark hair and walk gracefully into the room. John's two nephews wandered discontentedly into the hall.
'Hello, you fellows. Fed up?' she asked, realising that eight- and ten-year olds had not much in common with christening parties. 'I don't think tea's ready yet, so how about coming into the garden?' They nodded with sudden interest and followed her out. 'How about getting rid of some of your excess energy on that rope over there? But,' she called hastily after them, 'for goodness' sake mind your clothes or I'll get shot!'
They played a vigorous game of Tarzan while Liz wandered down to the brook, then hearing her name, she turned back.
'Liz, can we climb the tree?' young Danny asked persuasively. Liz hesitated, but seeing the pleading look in their eyes gave in.
'All right, but don't rip anything.'
Dear Villain Page 12