by Lynn Forth
Jane gasped. Mimi was right: Jack had changed instantly. He seemed immediately on guard, and obviously had no intention of giving anything away about himself.
Suitably rebuffed, Jane felt hurt. She had revealed far more about herself than she would normally, and yet she still knew nothing about him.
Maybe he had a dark secret? But Mimi had insisted he was ‘a good man’. And Jane had respected the sincerity in her voice and believed her.
Up till that point, the atmosphere over their long, languorous lunch had been so relaxed and convivial that Jane had felt a special rapport grow between them. She couldn’t remember when she had last felt so at ease and yet stimulated. And she’d thought Jack seemed to feel the same. But his shutters had unmistakably come down and, looking round, she realised with surprise that the afternoon was drawing to a close and it was time to head back to town.
To Scott’s, Jane thought, with a gulp of dread.
Chapter Nine
The fact that Jane was pensively silent on the return journey was not lost on Jack. He wondered if she was reluctant to return to Scott’s, but that was her business not his.
And Jack was battling with uncomfortable feelings of his own. He had been more affected by Jane than he was willing to admit.
He had listened with wonder to her impassioned description of how the writing process overwhelmed her. How involved she became with her characters. Having read her book, he could quite believe it. The people had a warmth, a vibrancy, a fire.
Had he ever felt a similar passion? Perhaps, in the beginning, when he first started writing and was looking forward to creating his own stories. But his entire film career had been spent adapting other writers’ ideas. With some of the books, he was very aware that he was turning dross into movie gold, but other books were exquisite works in their own right. In those cases, he had the feeling he was trampling on flowers, or perhaps cutting them down to make an ordered bouquet.
Had he had become more jaded? More mechanistic? He knew the shortcuts, the way to condense a whole scene into a few lines, to encapsulate emotions into just one look, and exaggerate the characters a little for the movie audience.
In so doing, was he short-changing an author‘s insight? Diminishing the subtleties of their characters? Destroying the essence of their vision? Tearing the wings off a butterfly?
Jane seemed to think so.
What would it be like to start from scratch? Just a blank page and his imagination. Could he do it?
He felt the faint stirrings of excitement at the prospect.
Deep in thought, he nearly missed the turn into Scott’s avenue, but remembered just in time to flick the switch to put up the roof on the car.
Jane turned towards him in surprise. ‘Oh no, Jack. It’s a shame to do that. It’s such a balmy evening, and I’m not cold.’
Jack nodded at the wide avenue ahead. ‘This is for privacy. That pap might still be there, so it saves you diving behind the seat again. And, as you can see, we’re going in the back way.’
He turned off the avenue and parked the car down a side road. Retrieving Jane’s laptop and suitcase from his boot, he then led the way to a small solid door hidden in a recess in the high wall surrounding Scott’s house. Punching a code into the keypad, he pushed open the heavy wooden door. Jane followed, laden with her bags from Mimi’s.
‘I didn’t know there was a back way,’ she said, clearly surprised.
‘Yup. All Hollywood houses have to have a means of escape.’
Jane nodded, but still looked a little taken aback.
Emerging from the shrubbery hiding the little door, they crossed the garden and entered Scott’s hallway via the open patio doors.
There was an awkward silence. Jane’s whole demeanour had changed. She no longer looked relaxed, but seemed unaccountably apprehensive. Puzzled by this change, Jack offered, ‘Do you want a hand with your case or bags before I go?’
‘Oh. No, thank you.’ Jane looked downcast, then burst out, ‘Please don’t leave yet.’
Surprised, Jack was just about to ask why, when a clearly embarrassed Jane began explaining herself. ‘It’s just that Scott isn’t usually back till late. He normally eats out, apparently.’ Then, with what seemed like an afterthought, she added, ‘Anyway, he would want to see you and hear about how helpful you’ve been to me.’
Jack snorted. ‘I doubt that very much.’
‘Why? Surely you two are friends, aren’t you?’ Jane looked surprised by Jack’s reaction.
‘Yes, of sorts. But I don’t know whether Scott will like the fact that you and I have been gadding about all day.’
‘Don’t be silly. After all, Scott isn’t my boyfriend or anything.’
Jack shot her a swift look. She still looked ill-at-ease.
‘Are you OK?’
‘Fine. Just fine.’
Once again, there was an uncomfortable silence and it seemed neither wanted to be the first to say goodbye. Looking at her pensive, drawn face, Jack could see that Jane plainly didn’t want him to go.
Annoyed at herself for seeming so needy, Jane suddenly roused herself and reached for her laptop, taking it into Scott’s study ready to work on in the morning. Bracing her shoulders, she turned resolutely and gave Jack a big grateful smile.
‘Thank you so much for a lovely day. I really mean it, it has been…’
‘Nice?’ he suggested, lifting a quizzical eyebrow.
She grinned. ‘Yes, really, really nice.’
As she leant forward to give Jack a grateful peck on the cheek, he opened his arms.
Instinctively, she moved into their embrace. But just then Maria, clearly alerted by the sound of voices, appeared in the hall. She jumped, startled on seeing two shadowy figures about to merge into one.
Jane leapt back guiltily.
‘Oh, hi, Maria. Mr. Clancy is…er…just dropping me off after a little shopping trip.’
Why did she feel she had to explain their perfectly innocent outing? But Jack’s proximity had fazed her totally. Oh, how she longed for those arms to enclose her, to press her against that hard chest and lift her lips to be kissed.
She ducked her head to hide the embarrassed flush that flamed in her face. To cover her confusion, she seized the bags of clothes and gabbled, ‘I’ll just take these upstairs. I’m dying to try on a lovely little dress the lady at the shop…er…Mimi persuaded me to buy. Thank you for all your help, Jack. Oh, and the lovely lunch. Um… Bye.’
Before she could change her mind, she ran swiftly upstairs to her bedroom. Then threw herself on to the bed in a fever of yearning for that missed embrace.
Annoyed, yet half relieved at Maria’s interruption, Jack let himself out by the side door. His unaccountable urge to sweep Jane into his arms, would have really complicated matters. Yes, he loved her company and felt a deep attraction for her, but he was not, definitely not, going to engage in a romantic flirtation with an unworldly person like Jane.
It had been quite a while since he had indulged in an affair, but when he did, he preferred women who knew the score. And knew when it was time to move on, without making a fuss.
Jane was altogether different, which was no doubt part of her charm. He was only too aware that she didn’t know the Hollywood rules, and the last thing he would want would be to hurt her.
Or, even worse, have any woman clinging on after the relationship had ended.
Jane still seemed to be in awe of the whole Hollywood experience, and still in thrall to the image of Scott’s stardom. Scott, in turn, was obviously flattered by her attentions and no doubt found her useful to him in his spat with Savannah.
Despite his disapproval of Scott’s intentions, Jack knew Jane was safe. Scott wouldn’t force her into anything she didn’t want. And from what he’d seen, she didn’t seem in danger of losing her heart to him, so would probably be glad of the experience of a romantic interlude with a Hollywood star. What a source of inspiration for her books. He could imagine how much she woul
d relish recounting her Hollywood experiences, sexual or otherwise, to her friends and family.
But his doubts would not go away. Was she too trusting? Too polite to say no if she didn’t want what Scott was offering?
The rapport, the bond they had established between them during the long afternoon was real. He felt he knew her so well; had connected with her tastes in films, her half-Italian blood, and her passion for writing. He realised her tales about her large, loving family had awakened a yearning buried deep inside of him. She had trusted him, revealed her soul to him.
He had revealed nothing.
What’s more, he had left her a prey to the cynical lust of a two-bit movie star.
What a cad.
A half smile played about his lips at that old-fashioned phrase. He must have caught that expression from Jane.
Later, back home, he knew he wouldn’t rest until he had checked that she was OK. This was stupid. What reason could he give for going back to Scott’s?
If he just dropped round, such an uncharacteristic action would only serve to increase Scott’s suspicions that he was interested in Jane.
Not a good idea, given Scott’s competitive spirit where women were concerned.
Then he remembered his promise to give Jane his film script to read. It was on his iPad and, as he didn’t have her email address to send it to her, he could use the excuse that it would be easiest just to transfer it to her laptop so she could print it off at Scott’s. Perhaps he could then see for himself if she was fine with the situation there.
He set off once again on the short journey to Scott’s. On arriving, he once again parked away from the main road and let himself in by the side door. The patio doors to the hallway were still open, so he padded his way into the darkened house and decided to look in the study for her laptop to verify his ostensible reason for returning.
He paused as he heard voices. Jane and Scott were heading towards the lounge seating area.
Jack stepped forwards to make himself known, but something in Jane’s voice made him pause and remain silent in the shadowy open doorway.
Jane was protesting in embarrassment.
‘Thank you, Scott, but I assure you I’m really not that special…in fact, I think you’ll find—’
Scott interrupted her. ‘Oh, but you are. You are gorgeous. You are the most beautiful—’
There was a snort of derision from Jane. ‘Now, that’s obvious rubbish.’
Jack grinned as he heard the bewilderment in Scott’s voice. He supposed his compliments had never been given such short shrift before.
‘No, you are, little lady. You are really beautiful.’
‘Look, Scott,’ Jane explained in patient tones. ‘I come from a large family of six gorgeous sisters and I know I was always the ugly duckling, so thanks for trying, but I do know where I stand in the beauty hierarchy.’
Jack peeked out guiltily from the study. He really shouldn’t be hearing all this, but Scott had stood up and was pacing up and down, blocking his escape.
He saw Scott shake his head, ‘You know…er…my dear, I’m never quite sure what you are talking about, but…didn’t the ugly duckling grow into a beautiful…um…er…goose?’
‘Swan?’ Jane suggested tactfully.
‘Yup, that’s it. You are a beautiful swan.’ And a triumphant Scott flung himself down on the sofa, landing close to Jane’s lap.
Very close indeed.
‘Well, thank you once again, Scott. You’re being very nice to me. And, of course, I’m very grateful for your promise about getting your producer to read my next book, but…’ There was a pause while she seemed to be considering what to say next.
Ah, Jack thought, so that’s what Scott had promised, had he? Typical of him to inflate his influence. But had Jane fallen for it?
He saw her shift her position to face Scott.
‘Look, I’m not sure what is going on here, so can I ask you a really blunt question?’
Jack suppressed a smile. The directness of her approach was definitely the Jane he knew. No flannelling; straight to the point.
‘Scott, are you…are you chatting me up?’
Jack knew Scott would be thrown by the expression.
‘I’m…er…not sure what…’
Jane leapt in hurriedly, clearly embarrassed to think she had got it all wrong.
‘Oh, I know it’s highly unlikely, you being so gorgeous and famous and everything. It’s just, I’m not sure what is going on here, and it would be great to clear it all up. So…are you?’
‘Er…what is chatting up?’ Scott was floundering.
‘Oh, it’s being nice…um…flirty, in order to have your wicked way with me.’ She laughed at using such an old-fashioned expression, obviously feeling confident that the answer would be a surprised, even perhaps a vehement, negative.
There was a pause as Scott tried to understand the gist of what she was saying, but then he leant in closer and put his strong, gym-toned arms round her.
‘Well what if I was?’
From his unwilling vantage point, Jack could see Jane trying to stand up but she was held down by Scott’s firm embrace.
‘No, Scott. We’re just friends, aren’t we?’
But Scott’s response was to kiss her, long and hard.
Jack couldn’t quite see Jane’s reaction. His impulse was to rush out and rescue her, but what if she was enjoying it? After all, she’d had a crush on Scott, which had been plain both from her initial reaction to him and her adoring flustered gaze in the hospital.
Now, Scott was clearly in full seduction mode and Jane, although taken by surprise, didn’t seem to be resisting.
The last thing Jack wanted was to be a perverted peeping Tom. But how could he escape? Looking wildly around, he saw the large study window. Could he open it and slip out without alerting them to his presence? He slowly and quietly took a step back, but was stopped in his tracks by Jane’s voice – hesitant but firm.
‘Er…no…right. No, this is exactly what I was afraid of.’
Scott didn’t seem to be put off by her resistance. Jack heard him assume his most reassuring voice. ‘There’s no need to be afraid of me, my beautiful darling. I’ll be very gentle.’ The tone was silky and seductive.
‘Oh no, not afraid in that sense,’ said Jane. ‘I mean, worried that that’s where all this was leading.’
‘No need to worry, little lady, just relax.’
There was another long pause, filled with unidentifiable grunts and mumblings. Jack stood alone in the dark, horrified that he might be listening to the calculated seduction of a person he cared about.
He hadn’t realised till this point just how much he cared.
Should he intervene? But how could he suddenly appear from nowhere? And could he be sure Jane wasn’t willing? His doubts were suddenly answered.
Jane’s voice was sharp. ‘Now, this has gone far enough. Stop that at once. Sorry, Scott, I’m very flattered and everything, but no thanks.’
‘But I thought you liked me.’
Jack’s lip curled at the pathetic whine in Scott’s voice.
‘Oh, I do. I really do, Scott. I like you a lot.’ Jane was hasty in her reassurance.
‘So, what’s the problem?’ Scott sounded genuinely bemused.
There was a long pause, then Jack could detect a new note of seriousness in Jane’s voice.
‘Well, you see, Scott, call me old-fashioned, but I actually have to love someone to go to bed with them.’
Another long pause, while both men digested this piece of information.
‘But you said you loved me in my film,’ Scott wheedled.
Don’t fall for it, Jane. Please don’t fall for it. Jack held his breath.
Was that an exasperated sigh from Jane?
‘Yes, I do love you in your films, Scott. It’s true. But that’s different from…’
Jack could sense Jane changing tack.
‘Please don’t take it personally, Scott. Yo
u see, I just don’t do sex.’
There was stunned silence. Then an incredulous voice asked,
‘Don’t do sex?’
Jack nearly laughed out loud. Scott sounded completely mystified.
‘No.’
But…but…why don’t you do sex?’
‘Well,’ Jane explained patiently, ‘sex leads to babies, and I don’t want any of those for quite a while, thank you very much.’
Scott’s relief was obvious. ‘Oh, if that’s all that’s worrying you, I can assure you I don’t either, and there are ways of stopping—’
‘That’s what you think.’ Jane cut him short. ‘Listen, I happen to come from a very fecund family, very fecund indeed.’ Her voice shuddered. ‘All those babies, nappies, poo, vomit, dribble, night feeds. No thanks. Not yet, anyway.’
‘Oh yes, I agree, but it doesn’t need to be like that, Jane. I’ll be very careful. I’ll—’
‘No. I know you’re going to start talking about protection and stuff. But do you know how many nephews and nieces I’ve got?’
‘Um…’
‘Nineteen! Nineteen. Can you believe it?’
‘Well…’ Scott tried to interject feebly.
But Jane was on a roll now.
‘And half of them were accidents, according to my sisters…although I have my doubts. As soon as my sisters returned to work, they plonked their babies on my very willing mother, so the house was always full of ‘em. Still is.’
There was a slight pause before Jane accosted a silenced Scott with another salvo.
‘Do you know how old I was when I changed my first nappy?’
‘What?’
‘No, you’ll never guess. I was seven.’ Jack heard a slight catch in her voice before she continued more resolutely, ‘And I’ve been doing it ever since. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, love them all.’
Was that a note of softness Jack could hear creeping in?
‘But not for me. Not yet, anyway,’ she carried on briskly. ‘Too many things to see. Too many books to write. So, no nappies for me yet awhile. OK?’