Millie's Game Plan

by Rosie Dean

  I opened with, ‘What on earth were you doing back at the theatre, last night? Were you fishing into my private life?’

  ‘You have a very suspicious mind, Camilla.’

  ‘Well, we know who I get it from.’

  ‘Remember the fifth commandment – honour your father and your mother.’

  ‘How convenient there’s not one about respecting your children’s privacy. Now, tell me why one minute I’m waving you off, and the next you’re giving some complete stranger the third degree.’

  She tutted. ‘I’d left my cardigan behind and just as I walked in, this young man smiled at me and said, ‘I believe you’re Millie’s mother.’ So, I chose not to deny it – although it’s tempting when you’re in a mood like this – and we had a little chat.’

  ‘And you invited him round for dinner.’

  ‘Yes, with you, of course. I’m no cradle-snatching widow.’

  Perish the thought. ‘You do know I’m going out with another man – he’s called Lex if you remember – and he might turn out to be someone special in my life, so I don’t want you mucking things up for me.’

  ‘Listen, after he’d introduced himself, I said if he’d had to spend the night locked up with my daughter – he deserved a good meal as consolation. Now, he thought that was funny. So, I said I’d fix up a date for you both to come round for dinner. And I promised I’d leave all the doors unlocked so he could escape whenever he wanted.’ She chuckled. ‘And that, Camilla, is all there is to tell – nothing sinister, just your mother being polite to one of your friends.’

  ‘You’re assuming he’s my friend.’

  ‘Madre mia! Listen to yourself. You told me he was a nice man. A man of God, you said. And as far as I’m concerned, as your mother, I wanted to thank him for supporting my daughter through a traumatic situation that’s been giving me nightmares ever since you told me about it. You’ve never been a mother – though with God’s blessing that won’t last for ever – but when you are, you’ll know what it’s really like to worry. And these days, I have to worry, on my own.’

  There was a sob in her voice as she finished, and I suddenly got it. I’d completely overlooked how disturbing the whole episode must have been for her.

  ‘Oh, Mum. I’m sorry. Please don’t get upset.’

  There was a rustling, and I imagined her stuffing the phone into her lap while she wiped her eyes. A moment later, she came back on. ‘I know you have your own life to lead, and I know I must let you get on with it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not affected by what happens to you.’

  ‘Of course you are. And I’m so busy, I keep forgetting that. Listen, I was thinking of popping out for brunch. D’you want to come with me?’

  ‘Bless you, no. I’ve got Father Riley coming round for his lunch today. I’m cooking salmon. But you’re very welcome to join us.’

  ‘Erm…’

  ‘Millie, I said you’re welcome to join us. I didn’t say it was compulsory.’

  I smiled to myself. ‘Shall I pop round for my tea? We can watch a film or something.’

  ‘What a lovely idea. I’ll make you some lemon cake.’

  ‘Yum.’

  So I still managed to get out to the American Diner for my brunch of Eggs Benedict, which were de-licious, and after a text dialogue with Sacha, agreed to meet her in the park to laze under a tree. We hadn’t caught up all week, what with her shifts and my show, so I was really looking forward to some girlie chat.

  ‘Hi, sweet-cheeks.’ Sacha dropped her bag on the grass and lay down next to me. She was wearing a pink and white spotted halter top, with a pink wrap-over skirt and the maddest white and blue platform sandals, bought at Covent Garden market last year. She was all smiles and chirpiness, so I guessed Marcus was still very much on the scene. She was thrilled to hear I’d returned to the stage. ‘Oh, I missed it. Have they got it on video?’

  ‘Bloody hope not.’

  ‘I bet you were brilliant. What a laugh.’ She beamed at me. ‘What’s wrong, Millie? You’ve got a funny look on your face.’

  ‘You’re not on something are you? You haven’t been rooting through the medicine cabinet at work again?’

  ‘What? No. Why?’

  ‘You must be in love then. You’re not usually this chirpy after an early shift.’

  She appeared to consider it for a moment. ‘No-oo,’ she said slowly. ‘I’m pretty sure I’m not in love. I’m just enjoying this lovely day. Do you think we need to be in love to be happy?’

  ‘Course not.’

  ‘Exactly. Look at me; I’ve got a really worthwhile job caring for sick people and I’m having great sex – without the complication of being in love.’

  ‘Right…and your point is?’

  ‘We’re really lucky. Look at you; you nurture kids’ theatrical talents – and they all love you; you’re young and pretty, you’ve got a cool job. I think you’re great. You’re my best friend, you know that?’

  She curled her arm round my neck and gave me a big kiss on the side of my head. As she gave me the sweetest smile, I was convinced something was up.

  ‘Thanks, Sach. Love you too.’

  Her smile flattened slightly. ‘Millie...’

  I knew it.

  ‘You know Marcus took me to his uncle’s Greek restaurant, on Friday?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We saw Lex…he was with another woman.’ Her eyes were loaded with compassion and concern.

  The woman could have been one of his French contacts; his business dealings didn’t have to be with men. But I knew Sacha wouldn’t be telling me like this, if it were that simple. ‘By ‘with another woman’, you mean with with, don’t you?’ She gave me that ‘sorry-to-be-the-one-to-tell-you’ look. ‘How…with?’

  ‘Arm round, looking meaningfully into her eyes kind of with.’

  I took a deep breath and a little part of my stomach knotted. ‘He told me he was in France. Lying bastard.’

  ‘I took photos. D’you wanna see?’

  I held out my hand.

  She pulled the phone from her bag and showed me an orange-toned interior shot. Lex was standing with a blonde who had her back to the camera and I noticed (with faint satisfaction) she had a chunky, square backside. ‘In the next one, you can see her face.’

  I clicked onto the following picture. ‘Bloody hell!’ I gasped. ‘She’s married to one of his friends.’

  ‘Bastard! Who is she?’

  ‘Her name’s Gemma. I met her at that party in London. She was one seriously uptight woman.’

  ‘Maybe she didn’t like you being with Lex.’

  I thought back to how she’d quizzed me; how keen she’d been when Josh turned up; the tension between her and her husband. ‘Maybe.’ I stared at the photo and shook my head. ‘What an arse.’

  ‘Yeah, looks like she spends all her time sitting on it.’

  ‘I was talking about Lex.’ I lay back and stared up through the tree. Was this a long-standing affair he couldn’t shake or something I’d driven him to, by my inaccessibility? ‘What I don’t understand is – he seemed really keen on me.’

  ‘Maybe he was…still is.’

  ‘Yeah – certainly looks like it.’

  ‘You said he could hardly keep his hands off you. Maybe he was desperate for a real relationship – with you – instead of a second-hand one with her.’

  ‘Well, he’s blown it now. Two-faced, cheating bastard.’ I had to hang on to the anger or I’d be blubbing with self-pity.

  ‘Men are just weak when it comes to sex. Remember, it’s the greatest weapon we’ve got in our armoury.’

  I groaned. ‘Then it’s probably my fault. I was the one holding back, waiting for the right moment and not wanting to seem too easy. That’s supposed to keep them interested, isn’t it?’

  ‘Don’t you dare go taking the blame. You said the timing was all wrong – it’s not like you’re a prick-teaser is it?’

  ‘All the same, I didn’t make any effort to engine
er a romantic night for two, did I? I should have taken the initiative earlier. I won’t make that mistake again. What do you think I should do, Sach? Text him the picture and dump him?’

  She wrinkled her nose as she considered it.

  ‘Oh no,’ I groaned.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m working on his marketing campaign.’

  ‘Then you’ve got a cast-iron reason to cool it. Say you don’t like mixing business with pleasure. That way, there’s no bad feeling.’

  She was right but a part of me still wanted to confront him. We might not have declared undying love, and we might only have been on one proper date but as far as I knew, there was still an understanding between us. My pride was hurt. ‘I’ll phone him first thing tomorrow.’

  ‘Good girl.’ She hugged me to her.

  ‘I never learn, do I?’ I mumbled into her shoulder. ‘Rushing into relationships has always been my downfall.’

  ‘You reckon?’

  I pulled back. ‘Why, where do you think I’ve been going wrong?’

  ‘Ermm…Look…I’m no expert but…’ she was evidently struggling to find the right words.

  Dear Doris, did I have some strange social disability? Was she about to divulge one secret the rest of the world knew about me that I didn’t? Sacha had never struck me as the brightest button in the box so if she was about to put her finger on the reason for my dating incompetence, I must have been a total screw up not to be aware of it, myself.

  ‘I think you think all men are as nice as your dad. And they’re not. You go in with your heart open and wearing rose-tinted Oakleys. Whereas I know most men are screw-ups and tossers. I should do – my dad was one of them.’

  I processed her words. Click, click, click, they went, falling into place. I thought about Dad – my buddy – and recognised the awful ache beginning at the back of my throat. ‘So how come I don’t I look for qualities like Dad’s in the men I meet?’ I asked.

  ‘Because nobody wants to date their dad, do they? That’d be creepy.’

  I thought about my Wish List. It certainly wouldn’t describe my dad. ‘So, what do I do now, see a shrink?’ I squeaked.

  ‘Don’t be silly. Try and be more like me – expect less from the guys you meet and who knows, one day you might get a nice surprise.’

  ‘But time’s on your side, Sach. You can afford to love-em-and-leave-em.’

  She drew a very deep breath. ‘Exactly. But now it’s time for you to tread carefully. Yes, I go on about having a good time, and I am, but now I can see it’s completely the wrong approach for you. I suppose I just didn’t want to face it before. My lovely friend is moving into a different phase of her life.’ Her eyes teared up, and it was my turn to hug her.

  ‘Oh Sach.’

  After a moment she chuckled through her tears, ‘Bloody hell, look at me.’ She smeared the tears away with her hands.

  ‘It’s not a pretty sight, Sach.’

  She laughed and sniffed. ‘D’you fancy an ice lolly?’

  ‘Go on then.’ Perhaps I could soothe my pride with it. I watched as she sashayed over to the ice-cream van at the edge of the park, and my eyes began to sting. Not so much for Lex as for Sacha, who’d done her absolute best to break the news to me as painlessly as possible. She was right; there were plenty of good things in my life. And tomorrow, I would be putting what I’d thought was one of them back on the market.

  I glanced at my watch. Visiting hours at the hospital had just started, I would give it another hour, so Lulu could spend time with her family before I showed up. There was every possibility they would launch into me for not preventing the disaster – and they’d be right. For just a few hours a week, I was in loco parentis, and I’d failed them.

  I hate the smell in hospitals. Dad had spent two days in intensive care before finally passing away. It had been sunny then, too. I steeled myself to visit Lulu and face her parents.

  For someone with a broken leg and, quite possibly, a massive hangover, Lulu looked surprisingly pretty but fragile. They must have taken off her stage make-up because her face was pale and youthful. She might only be fifteen but normally, her charcoal eyeliner, bronzer and lip-gloss made her appear older – intimidating, even. Today, she didn’t look much different from my nieces.

  ‘Hi. How are you?’ I asked, drawing her attention from staring through the window.

  She looked surprised to see me. Maybe sobering up had allowed the guilt to surface. She shrugged. ‘Pretty crap.’

  Hers was the only bed without visitors. ‘Are you expecting anyone else, this afternoon?’

  ‘Nah. Mum’s gone.’

  I wafted a couple of magazines in the air. ‘Brought you these.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Anything else you’d like me to get you?’

  She shook her head. I’d never seen her so crestfallen. It was unnerving. I manoeuvred the chair next to her bed so I could sit and look at her without getting a crick in my neck. I smiled to lighten the mood and elicit a smile from her. Instead, she drew her hands together and fiddled with the plastic name tag round her wrist. ‘Surprised you come in, if I’m honest,’ she murmured.

  ‘Why wouldn’t I? I was worried about you.’

  She glanced briefly at me. ‘I fucked up the show, didn’I?’

  ‘Erm…’ she had a point. ‘Well, it was certainly different without you.’

  ‘What happened?’ she mumbled.

  ‘You mean you haven’t heard?’

  She shook her head. ‘My phone’s at the theatre, and Mum didn’t know anything.’

  ‘Well, as a result of your accident, Millie Carmichael made a brief and unexpected return to the stage.’

  She looked up. ‘How d’ya mean?’

  ‘I went on as Rizzo.’

  ‘What? You did my lines and sang and everything?’

  ‘Wore a rather naff dress in a foul shade of tomato ketchup, too. It could have done with ironing.’

  ‘Did you really do it? And it was alright?’

  ‘Well, they had to make an announcement before I went on – you know – didn’t want the audience thinking they’d stumbled on the stage version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. But yes, I think we got away with it.’

  ‘So, nobody asked for their money back?’

  ‘Not that I’ve heard.’

  Her head dropped onto the pillow. After a moment, she looked at me. ‘Were you scared?’

  ‘Didn’t have much time to think about it. I quite enjoyed it, actually.’

  ‘You did my solo okay?’

  ‘Nowhere near as well as you. But it wasn’t a howler.’

  Her head lolled away from me and it didn’t take a PhD in Body Language to know she was upset. I reached my hand out to hold hers and was relieved she didn’t snatch it away. ‘Lulu, it was an accident. Nobody’s mad at you.’ After hearing her grunt in response, I said, ‘How did it happen, anyway?’

  Silence. I waited. Would she blame someone else or actually own up to being drunk? After a moment, she removed her hand from mine and rolled away – as much as her leg would allow. Some people might have taken it as a hint to leave. Not me. That wouldn’t have solved anything. Instead, I walked around the bed to face her.

  ‘Lulu, you made a brilliant Rizzo. It’s such a shame you couldn’t finish the last show. But I definitely want you back for the Variety Show in September.’

  Silence.

  ‘Will you think about it?’

  She shrugged. We were making progress.

  ‘I’ll come and see you again. If that’s okay with you?’

  She glanced in my direction without making eye contact.

  ‘I could ring your mum to check when you’re coming out.’

  Grunt.

  ‘Was she very upset?’ I asked, bracing myself for an impending lawsuit.

  ‘Reckons it served me right, dinnit?’

  ‘Oh. And is that what you think?’

  Another shrug. ‘Must be. Everything’s my f
ault, according to ’er.’

  ‘That’s just mums, isn’t it? They get stressed about everything when you’re a teenager.’

  ‘Did your mum threaten to chuck you out when you were my age?’

  I thought before I answered. ‘She was always telling me I would test the patience of a saint.’

  ‘S’not the same as being chucked out, is it?’

  ‘Your mum’s just upset at the moment.’

  ‘Whatever.’ After a pause, she looked straight at me. ‘Millie, I hope you don’t mind but I’m dead tired. Thanks for coming.’

  And that was it. She settled back and closed her eyes.

  I couldn’t think of anything helpful to say so I just patted her shoulder and said, ‘Sweet dreams,’ before leaving.

  Chapter 25

  My In-box on Monday morning contained an email from Charles. Please would I make a meeting with Marshal & Crowe – asap – to review F.A.B. Marketing’s proposals for the campaign? My heart thudded.

  This was the ideal opportunity to put my business relationship with Lex onto the professional footing it deserved. So at four o’clock the following day, I was accepting a glass of water from Bronwen and taking measured breaths. Today she wore a mother-of-the-bride suit; coral pink with a cream, lacy blouse and cream and coral court shoes. Strands of pearls were sitting in the creases of her throat and the boulders on her fingers were the same as before. ‘Lex was telling me you had a bit of a drama the other weekend. Locked in a church, he says.’

  I nodded and gave her my well-worn synopsis.

  ‘Did you get a look at the guys who did it?’ she asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

  ‘Nope. No idea.’

  ‘What about the vicar?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  She shook her head. ‘Terrible, isn’t it? You poor girl, you must’ve been scared out of your wits. And I don’t imagine it was much fun being locked up with a vicar, was it?’

  ‘Actually, he was really nice. Good company.’

  ‘Ohhh? Young fellow according to Lex. Were you tempted?’ she winked. ‘Or perhaps he was, eh?’ Her beady eyes gleamed with prurient curiosity. ‘Did you have to fight him off?’

  Normally, I don’t mind gossipy receptionists but I didn’t appreciate the innuendo. ‘Not at all. I’m just glad I wasn’t locked up on my own.’