by Sue Margolis
Ruby shook her head. “Sam, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am. What with this and everything else, you must have been going through hell…. Anyway, I found out that Jill scanned your name onto that form. She did the same to some of the other doctors from abroad. The idea was that if the surrogacy affair ever came to light, you would have taken the rap. Nobody would have questioned it. Hardacre is highly respected and you would have been seen as some opportunistic foreigners on the make.”
They agreed that, along with Hannah, their next job was to report Jill and Tom Hardacre to St. Luke’s board of governors.
“So,” Ruby said, after making a mental note to phone Hannah as soon as she got home, “all those calls you kept getting while we were seeing each other, they weren’t from the hospital, were they?”
He shook his head. “They were from Kimberley. Even in London, the threats never stopped. She was scared for her life. All the time she and the kids were here, she hardly slept.”
“So, these villains—are they still after you? Buddy seemed to think they were.”
“No. This is the great news and I haven’t even told you. It’s over. I called Josh’s lawyer just before I reached the airport. He was just about to get on the phone to Buddy. I’ve never heard him so excited. Apparently Herbert Garcia, the real murderer, committed suicide a couple of hours ago. He was already on the run. He left a note saying he knew he would be going down for life and he preferred to take the easy way out. Now the retrial will simply be a formality.”
“My God. That’s amazing. How do you feel?”
“Like a huge weight’s been lifted. It’s been a long haul.”
She squeezed his hand. “You look exhausted. I just wish you’d let me help you.”
“I couldn’t. This wasn’t your fight. I know you’re angry that I shut you out and I’m sorry. I will always be sorry, but if I had to do this all over again I’d still want to protect you.”
“I understand,” she said, smiling. She knew he wasn’t going to shift his position on this, so she decided to let it go. “So, how was Devon?”
“Wet. And I missed you. I tried calling you this morning on your cell, but there was no answer.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear it ring. What were you going to say?”
“That I was sorry about everything and that I love you.”
“I love you, too. I never stopped loving you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“I have to go back to New York for the trial. How would you feel about coming with me? I could really do with the support.”
“Like you have to ask. Of course I’ll come with you.”
“But what about the shop? Could Chanel manage without you for a week?”
She gave a weak smile. “She and Fi could probably manage it between them, but it won’t be necessary. There’s something I haven’t told you. The future is not looking exactly rosy for Les Sprogs.”
“How come?”
She told him about the Guatemalan-week debacle. “I still have a few weeks to raise the money to buy Stella out, but I’m not hopeful. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to wind up the business. It might as well be sooner rather than later.”
“I can’t believe this. Les Sprogs meant everything to you.”
“Yes, but you know that owning a posh shop in Notting Hill was never my ultimate goal. It was only ever a means to an end. Maybe this will force me to think seriously about how I can get Baby Organic off the ground.”
“What about asking some of your wealthy Les Sprogs customers to put up some of the money?”
Ruby said she’d already tried. “No go, I’m afraid. The word’s out—via Stella, of course—that I’m a reckless businesswoman and that potential investors would do well to avoid me at all costs.”
He shook his head in dismay. “You know,” he said, “if I had that kind of money, it would be yours.”
“You really are the most lovely man, Sam Epstien. Did I tell you I love you?”
“You did, but I don’t mind hearing it again. So, shall we give us another chance? What do you say?”
Her mouth formed a smile that threatened to swallow up her entire face. She leaned across the table and kissed him. “I say definitely.”
The following summer…
After weeks touring the provinces, Saul’s show finally hit the West End. The first night was a triumph. Saul received a five-minute standing ovation, followed by at least half a dozen curtain calls.
As she’d stood in the front row, cheering, whooping and applauding with the rest of the audience, Fi had wept tears of pure joy.
Afterward, the cast, their families and friends, not to mention thickets of mwawwing celebrities gathered at Soho House for the opening night party. Ruby and Chanel were desperate to reach Saul to tell him how spectacular his performance had been, but he was caught up in a tight throng of showbiz reporters and people patting him on the back and congratulating him. From the moment he walked into the party, his face had been one permanent grin, but Ruby could tell by the way he kept his arm wrapped tightly round Fi that he was a bit dazed and bewildered by all the attention.
In the end Ruby and Chanel decided it was going to be impossible to penetrate the posse surrounding Saul and so they retreated to the bar and the free champagne. There would be time to congratulate Saul later, once the hubbub died down.
“I always knew he’d make it one day,” Ruby said to Chanel as they eased themselves onto tall bar stools.
A waiter appeared with a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Chanel passed, but Ruby couldn’t resist helping herself to a small paper cone containing a munchkin-size portion of fish and chips.
“Wonder how he’ll cope with all the fame, though,” Chanel said, reaching across and stealing one of Ruby’s chips.
“He’ll be fine. He’s pretty grounded. And if by some chance he does let the fame go to his head, Fi will soon put him in his place.”
When Chanel disappeared to the ladies’ room, Ruby stayed at the bar, people-watching, sipping her champagne and thinking back over the last six months.
Gradually, bit by bit, things had come right for almost everybody she knew. As her thoughts drifted from person to person, she felt as if she were watching one of those happy-ever-after montages at the end of a sloppy romantic comedy. She, of course, was the heroine who had finally won her man. Then there was Saul, who had become an instant overnight successafter fifteen years. Hannah had received the outstanding money she was owed by Claudia Planchette and, much cheered up, had gone back to university. Sam’s name had been cleared and he was back at St. Luke’s. His brother was just out of rehab and thinking about going back to law school. After her traumatic journey into the world, baby Maya was now a chubby, giggling six-month-old who was sitting up and learning to “self-soothe” at night. Ronnie and Phil were permanently exhausted, but adoring every minute of their new life, and Aunty Sylvia was taking bets on the little mite’s first word being either transference, avoidance or denial.
Chanel was convinced that these “positive shifts” in people’s lives were all tied up with Saturn changing direction. “You see, Saturn is yer planet of structure and stricture,” she’d explained when Ruby brought up the subject with her. “When it’s retrograde, as it ’as been for the last couple of years, you might as well pack up and go to bed.” Apparently Saturn had resumed its forward journey the previous January, which meant it was responsible foramong other thingsSocial Services allowing Chanel and Craig to foster Alfie with a view to adopting him. The process would take a few more months, but since Claudia had now given up all parental rights to the child and since Chanel and Craig had received a glowing home study report from their social worker when they originally applied to become foster parents, it seemed unlikely that anything could prevent the adoption from going through.
Claudia’s lawyers had also benefitedin some part, at least, from this new, benign sky. They were able to keep the surrogacy story out of the newspapers by
dealing directly with Chanel’s local director of Social Services.
They had no such luck when Claudia finally lost custody of Avocado and ended up in the hospital suffering from exhaustionclearly code for a nervous breakdown. The tabloids were practically printing pull-out-and-keep Claudia supplements.
“I think it’s brilliant that she’s having a breakdown,” Ronnie had declared to Ruby, with the authority of somebody who had been in therapy since she was in diapers.
“Ersorry, how can a nervous breakdown ever be ‘brilliant’?”
“I’ll tell you how. When a person hits rock bottom, they have no alternative but to confront their demons. It’s wretched and painful but in the end it can be a wonderfully healing experience. I think Claudia will grow from this.”
“You do?”
“Absolutely. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to make excuses for her, but I think she’s probably had a very rough time. I know these Hollywood stars are rich and pampered, but I can’t imagine how it must feel to have the media constantly scrutinizing and criticizing every aspect of their appearance. The pressure to be permanently beautiful and thin must be unbearable.”
Ruby got the point. “Fall short of perfection and nobody wants to employ you. Endeavor to be perfect and you go mad.”
“Something like that.”
“You think she could turn her life around?”
“Absolutely. Some good might come of this yet.”
“Oh, God,” Ruby said, screwing up her face. “I can see it now: Claudia Planchette sells the film rights to her surrogacy storythe proceeds go to charity of course. Meanwhile she sets up a pressure group, demanding the film studios start using plus-size women in romantic leads. You can just see her organizing cookouts on Rodeo Drive and candlelit vigils outside Calista Flockhart’s house.”
OCCASIONALLYUSUALLY AFTER receiving yet another refusal from a potential investorRuby would start muttering to herself about being the only bloody person on the planet who hadn’t benefited from Saturn’s supposed change of direction. Then she’d think about the poor and starving, the terminally ill. She would remind herself that she had just found the love of her life and that she had no right to complain. But sometimes, it wasn’t easy.
As she’d feared back in January, none of the banks had been prepared to lend her the money she needed to buy Stella out of the business and she had been forced to walk away. She’d come away with her initial investment, plus a reasonably decent payout from Stella, but it wasn’t nearly enough to get Baby Organic up and running.
Aware that she had to earn a living while she carried on trying to raise the money to start her new business, she had reopened her baby-wear stall in Camden market, where she now worked six days a week.
At night, while Sam slepthe had moved in with her in Januaryshe paced around the flat, trying to think up new money-making schemes. There was still no question of her accepting loans from family or friendsor Sameven though they were offered repeatedly. She was petrified that if something went wrong, she wouldn’t be able to repay the money.
Sometimes, in the small hours, Sam would hear her moving about. Then he would get up, make her a cup of hot milk and try to persuade her to come back to bed. He was clearly worried about how little sleep she was getting. “Ruby, you can’t go on like this. You have to let the people who love you help you financially.” But she insisted there had to be another way and that she would eventually find it.
It wasn’t that the banks and venture capitalists she’d approached were telling her that her business plan sucked, or that she wasn’t up to the challenge of setting up Baby Organic. Quite the reverse. Practically everybody had said it was a superb idea, that she had discovered a gap in the market and that she clearly had talent.
“Then why won’t you back me?” she had pleaded again and again. The response was always the same: palms were turned heavenward, spectacles were removed, pens were laid down on legal pads. The sticking point was always her lack of capital. The men in suits were prepared to put in 50 percent of what she required, but she needed to provide the other 50 percent. She simply didn’t have it.
When Ruby asked Chanelby way of a jokewhy she wasn’t reaping the rewards along with everybody else from Saturn’s change of direction, Chanel looked grave. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask.”
“Why’s that?”
Chanel inhaled and let out a long, slow breath. “You’re a Capricorn, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, you see, the thing is, Saturn’s actually yer ruler.”
“Which means”
Chanel hesitated. “Well, it sort of means that even when Saturn’s moving forward, yer life’s always going to be a bit of a struggle.”
“Oh, great.”
“You see, yer goat is born to climb mountains, and those mountains tend to be very high and ’ave paths which are full of rocks and obstacles. Goats always get to the summit in the end, though. It just takes them longer than other people.”
“Like how long? I mean are we talking sometime before menopause?”
“Impossible to tell. You just ’ave to carry on working and trying to raise the money. But the really brilliant news is that in old age, Capricorns always look younger than everybody else.”
“Well, that’s something, I suppose. Must be the lack of free radicals in all that mountain air.”
BACK AT SOHO House, Ruby was craning her neck, looking for Bridget. As she had before Connor’s circumcision, Fi asked Ruby if she’d mind keeping an eye on her and making sure she didn’t misbehave.
Just then Chanel returned from the loo. “If you’re looking for Bridget,” she said, “she’s over there, chatting up some bloke.” Chanel squinted, trying to make out who he was. “Omigod, it’s David Schwimmer.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Ruby insisted they move closer so that they could hear what Bridget was saying and rescue David Schwimmer if it became necessary.
“You know, Mr. Schwimmeror may I call you David? Has anybody ever told you you’re much shorter than you are on the telly?” Bridget was giddy with excitement and too much champagne. Ruby rolled her eyes at Chanel.
“No. Actually they haven’t.”
“You know, David, I loved you in ER.”
“Actually, I wasn’t in ER.”
“You weren’t? Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure, yes.”
“Huh. I could have sworn it was you. So who am I thinking of?”
“George Clooney, maybe?Anyway, it’s been nice talking to you.” He moved to go.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?”
“Er, no, I don’t.”
Bridget patted her newly coiffed hair. “I’m the motherin-law of Christ.”
“Is that so?” David Schwimmer seemed to be looking round for somebody to rescue him from the madwoman. Ruby picked up on this and moved forward, but Chanel grabbed her arm. “Leave her,” she whispered. “Let her enjoy her bit of fame.” Ruby was a bit reluctant, but she stepped back.
“No, you misunderstand,” Bridget was saying to David Schwimmer. “I’m Bridget Gilhooley. Saul, who plays Jesus in the show, is married to my daughter, Fiona. You might have heard of me. The Catholic Herald ran an in-depth interview with me last week.”
“Actually, no. I didn’t get to see it.”
“That’s a shame. Well, next week you must listen out for me on the radio. I’m the star guest on Cozy Confessions with Sister Assumpta.”
“That sounds fascinating. I’ll be sure to catch it if I can.”
“Of course, when I found out Saul had been given the lead in the revival of Jesus Christ Superstar, I thought how could they give it to a Jew? I mean, a heathen playing the Son of God. It’s an affront to the Holy Spirit. But of course, I was forgetting that our Lord was a Jew. They’re wonderful people, the Jews. After all, when you think about it, it was the Jews that invented God. And I believe they even invented the bagel.”
“And the thing about the Jews is, they take the family very seriously. Apart from being a great actor, Saul is the perfect husband and father. I’ve never been able to fault him on that score. I love him like one of me own.”
“That’s good to hear. So many men have problems with their mothers-in-law.”
“Oh, not us. I can truly say Saul and I have never uttered a cross word. So, with your swarthy, Middle Eastern looks, David, would you be of the Jewish persuasion yerself?” She didn’t wait for him to reply. “Of course Jews do insist on circumcising their baby boys. I can’t say as I approve, but they do say it’s a lot healthier. Would you be circumcised yourself, David?”
At this point, Ruby leaped forward and grabbed Bridget’s arm. “Bridget! Please! We must let Mr. Schwimmer go. I’m sure there are lots of other people here he wants to speak to.”
“Well, it’s been interesting talking to you, Bridget. I can’t wait to tell people I just met the motherin-law of Christ.”
“And you’ll listen for me on Cozy Confessions with Sister Assumpta?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Chanel guided Bridget back to the bar. Ruby turned to David Schwimmer, who she had to admit was supremely dishy. “I’m so sorry about that,” she said. “Saul’s success has gone to her head a bit.”
“No problem,” he smiled, making him look super-plus dishy. “Listen, believe it or not, I don’t know too many people here. I was wondering, would you like to go somewhere maybe and get a drink or a cup of coffee?”
“Who? Me?” Ruby looked over her shoulder, assuming he was directing his question at some gorgeous starlet who had just sashayed into view.
“Yes,” he said.
“Oh, that is so kind of you and I’m very flattered, but actually I’m here with my chap.”
“Well, your chap is a very lucky guy, that’s all I can say. Nice to have met you” He was inviting her to fill in her name.
“Ruby. Ruby Silverman.”
“Nice to have met you, Ruby Silverman.” He held out his hand, which she took.