Pinstripes

by Faith Bleasdale

  Clara went to get something to drink. Her head was filled with the same thoughts as Ella’s. If she went to a reporter and they found out she was a member of the prestigious Hart family they’d have a field day. They would probably think it was more of a story than Tim’s sleaziness. Especially if they did their research and found out she had been sacked from SFH. ‘shit, shit, shit,” Clara said aloud, as she slammed the fridge door. Then, as she grabbed three wineglasses, she had an idea. She knew it might turn out to be the worst idea she had ever had, but it was all she had.

  “Here, have a drink.” She poured the white wine and lit a cigarette. “One of us has to go to the journalist. It can’t be me because I had an affair with Tim and these guys are smart. I doubt it would take any time at all for them to find out all the gory details. Then I would be headline news too. My father owns the Hart Corporation, which is a huge company, and my brother works there and it would be used to make the story even better. My parents are a bit society, often in gossip columns. My father even got a knighthood a couple of years back. I can’t risk my family being dragged into this. They’d never speak to me again.”

  “I understand,” Ella said. Virginia wished she had a family like Clara’s, or any family other than her own.

  “So, Ella, you’ll have to do it.”

  Ella turned a funny colour. “No,” she said.

  “What?” Clara asked.

  “I said no.” Ella lit a cigarette. Virginia noticed that her hand was shaking.

  “Ella, you have to. It was your idea and we can’t contemplate letting Virginia loose with a hard-nosed reporter.”

  “Then we won’t do it.”

  “But we have to! Shit, Ella, what is this? You can handle the situation. You just tell them you are an ex-SFH employee, you knew Tim well, and you saw what he got up to. They may look into your background, but the only thing they’ll find is that you were fired and you’ll tell them that anyway. We know why you were fired, but they won’t find that out because SFH wants to keep it quiet. You say you’re not doing this for revenge but you think it’s a great story and you want some money. If they think you’re doing it for the money, they’ll accept it.”

  “No. Just drop it,” Ella hissed.

  “I fucking well won’t. You just heard what I’ve been through. You have to do this for me. If you don’t have a good reason like me, you have to do it.” Clara and Ella were on their feet, and Virginia wanted to run away.

  After a while, Ella sat down and poured more wine.

  “You don’t understand. I can’t do it,” Ella said quietly.

  “Then tell us,” Clara demanded.

  Ella winced. “This is a day for revelations. OK. First, you know I was sacked because I faked a degree certificate. I know SFH have hushed it up and given another reason for my dismissal, but I can’t risk the papers getting hold of it.”

  “But I already said they won’t find out. How can they? You just tell them you are Ella Franke, formerly from Manchester worked at SFH, and they’ll get the story that you were sacked for losing money or whatever it is SFH are saying. Traders lose money all the time, so you’re not even remotely an interesting story.” At first Clara thought sending Ella to try to charm a journalist was going to be difficult because Ella was horribly un-charming. Now she knew it was their only hope.

  “Because, Clara, if they try to do any research into my background they’ll find out something I don’t want them to.” Ella lit another cigarette.

  Virginia reached for the wine, not taking her eyes off Ella.

  “What?” Clara said.

  “That I’m not Ella Franke.” Ella bolted into the bathroom where she locked the door and tried to think.

  Her heart was thudding. No one but Jackie knew this and now she’d blurted it out to them! Ella couldn’t believe what she’d done. Clara had riled her, but she could have said anything. Anything but the truth she had hidden for the last four years.

  ***

  Clara looked at Virginia. “Shit,” she said.

  “We need to talk to her, find out what’s wrong.” Virginia tried to remain calm.

  “I know what’s wrong. We’re with someone and we don’t even know her fucking name. What is she playing at?” Clara asked.

  “Let’s try to get her out of the bathroom,” Virginia suggested.

  “You go. I need some coke.”

  Virginia felt sick as she knocked on the bathroom door. There was no reply.

  “Ella, are you all right?” she asked quietly.

  “Yes,” Ella replied.

  “Will you come out?”

  “Of course I’ll fucking come out. Did you think I was going to move in here?”

  “No, Ella ... but, well, just come out.” Virginia was red faced.

  Ella opened the door, walked back to the table and sat down.

  “Are you going to tell us who you are?” Virginia asked.

  “To you I’m Ella, and that’s all you need to know,” Ella replied.

  “Actually, that’s where you’re wrong. We’ve sailed close to the wind with you – the whole Isabelle thing, now Tim, next Johnny. And if you think for one minute I’m going to continue working with someone whose real name I don’t know, let alone what other things you’re hiding from us, then think again.” Clara sat down, wiping white powder from the side of her nose.

  “None of us knows who we are, so that’s a pretty stupid thing to say,” Ella replied.

  “I know who I am and I know who Virginia is, but you could be a major criminal for all we know.” Clara was shouting again.

  Ella burst into tears.

  In that moment, something happened to the three girls that they would never be able to explain. They had not seen Ella cry before. She had looked close to tears when Clara talked about the rape, but she had held them back. Clara had cried, Virginia had cried, but not Ella. Virginia moved her chair closer to Ella’s and took her in her arms. As she held her, Ella cried and cried until Clara got up and put her arms around both of them. They waited until Ella’s tears stopped before they let go. Virginia reached into her bag and gave Ella a tissue. Clara went to make coffee.

  “Thanks,” Ella said.

  Suddenly Virginia felt that after all she had heard today, she was the only one of them who had any normality left. “Ella, whatever it is, whatever you’re going through, you can tell us. God, we know more about each other than most people do. We know what really happened to Clara, we know I have no personality and I’ve never had sex, we know you lied to get your job. We ruined Isabelle’s career together. I know we’re not exactly friends but what we have is important to all of us. That’s our bond. So, please, when Clara comes back, tell us your story.”

  Virginia surprised Ella. She was calm, clear, and she was also right.

  “You do have a personality, Virginia, and I think it may be a very nice one. You just need to get more confident,” Ella said, and smiled at her.

  Clara returned with the coffee. “So, are you going to spill?” Clara said.

  “Clara, shut up. Ella will tell us in her own time,” Virginia snapped.

  Clara opened her mouth to retort, but changed her mind.

  “So, do you want to hear my story?” Ella said. The others nodded. “OK, then I’ll begin.” She took a drink, lit a cigarette and, watching the two anxious faces in front of her, she started talking. “I was born Eloise Butcher. I know I changed my name but that’s not all.” Ella told them of how she met Tony, agreed to marry him and how he had hit her. She told them about the last beating and Sam’s rescue. As she spoke the others remained silent as they listened to her horrific story. Ella spoke as if in a trance. As she described some of the horror, Virginia had to stop herself from crying. “One day after a nasty beating my brother came to see me.” She closed her eyes briefly, remembering the pain. “I wouldn’t let him in. I wouldn’t let anyone near me. He broke down the door, saw me all battered and bruised and carried me out. I even told him I didn’t want to g
o. God knows why. Then he started to plan revenge. Just like we’re doing, only worse. He was so angry. He paid for some thugs to do to Tony what he had done to me. Only it went too far. I got a call from the hospital saying that Tony was in a coma and the hospital traced me to my parents” house. Sam and I went to the hospital. Sam said it would look suspicious if I didn’t. There were police everywhere and as I was in shock. Sam told them we’d recently split due to arguments. He said we’d had no idea that this had happened. The police said thugs broke into the club when Tony was alone in the early hours of the morning – it had been a robbery. Sam’s guys had taken money to make it look that way. They said they could do nothing until Tony came round – if Tony came round. Although they didn’t suspect us, Sam said I should leave rather than stay and face any music, so I did.

  “Tony was lying there with all these tubes and he looked dead. I didn’t feel sad – he looked the way he had made me look so many times. Sam said the guys had gone too far, but it was too late to do anything but try to get on with life. I couldn’t do that there. He arranged for me to change my name, got me fake documents and sent me to London with a bit of money. You know the rest. I met my friend Jackie when I went to work for her as a waitress. I saw an article about the lack of black people in die City. I read books, got a fake degree and got my job at SFH. I wouldn’t call Sam – I couldn’t. I was too scared for him and for me. So I still don’t know if Tony is alive or dead. I couldn’t bring myself to find out. And now I don’t know if I’m a fugitive or if I’m in the clear. I ran like a scared mouse. I know Sam’s not in jail because I send him cheques, but that’s all I know. I won’t let myself call him – God knows I want to, but I can’t He saved my life and I felt that by disappearing maybe I could save his. I’ve messed up in a way I could never contemplate and I haven’t a clue how to put my life back together. But I know that if I go anywhere near a journalist I could get into more trouble, or get Sam into trouble and I won’t do that. I’ll never do that.” Ella stopped, her eyes misted with tears.

  They sat around the dining-table as they had so many times. But this time they didn’t know what to think, say, or do. All three were feeling disbelief, even Ella: even after all this time, she could hardly believe her story.

  “My God,” Clara said. For once she was lost for words.

  “So you see why I can’t do it,” Ella finished.

  “I’ll get more wine.” Clara got up and went for it via her bedroom. She felt as if she was watching one of those tacky TV shows in which a presenter, usually with a bad hairpiece, pretended to be sympathetic to guests whose lives were a mess. Clara thought her life was a mess, but it was nothing compared to Ella’s. She might even be wanted for murder. “Holy shit,” Clara said to herself, as she lined up her cocaine. “What the hell have I got myself into?”

  When Clara had left the room Virginia sat still, not knowing what to say to Ella. She could hardly believe what she’d just heard. It was like a horror story and it had happened to Ella. Virginia had always thought Ella was the coldest person, but she was the one with the biggest problems and the saddest story. Clara came a close second. Virginia felt guilty about her indulgence in self-pity.

  The three girls sat sipping wine in silence. The drug addict, the nobody and the fugitive. They didn’t know what they were all doing there, or what would happen to them, but for some reason they began to feel that they fitted together. They didn’t fit anywhere else.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Look I know we could leave it for tonight if you want, Ella, but we still need to decide what to do about Tim,” Clara said.

  Maybe we should rethink the plan,” Virginia suggested.

  “No. We’ve worked hard on this, and just because Clara and I have a problem facing the press, we can still do it.”

  “How?” Clara asked.

  “Virginia,” Ella said.

  “What?” Clara and Virginia said simultaneously.

  “Virginia will do it. She’s got no secrets, no high-profile family and no problems fobbing them off with why she left SFH. She’s perfect.” Ella smiled for the first time since she had bared her soul. Virginia turned very white and couldn’t speak.

  “Ella, you’ve fucking lost it. Look at her! She’s only just learning how to have a conversation with us, let alone with a stranger who happens to be a reporter. She’d be useless.”

  “Not necessarily. We’ll prep her and it will do wonders for her self-confidence. She’ll be fine.”

  “Ella, she’s a mouse. A reporter would eat her for breakfast.” Clara was furious.

  “No, they won’t. She’ll be fine.”

  ‘”They will, Ella, this is crazy, it’ll never work!” Clara roared.

  “It fucking well will,” Ella said.

  “Please, stop.” It was Virginia. The others turned to look at her. “Clara’s right. I can’t do this.”

  “Yes, you can. Virginia, you’re our only hope.” Ella looked at her pleadingly.

  “But what if they intimidate me as much as you do sometimes?”

  “We do not,” Clara said.

  “We’ll prepare for this. Virginia, you can do it. Please,” Ella implored.

  “Oh, God, I may as well call Tim and tell him all about our plan.” Clara threw her hands up in the air.

  “Do you have any better ideas? Virginia can do this – she’ll prove you wrong.”

  “No, she’ll prove you wrong,” Clara stated.

  “She’ll prove me right,” Ella said.

  Virginia listened to them with mixed feelings. She was flattered that Ella thought she could do it, and felt hurt at Clara’s insistence that she was useless, although part of her agreed wholeheartedly with that. And she would say all the wrong things and probably end up looking like a fool ... but part of her wanted to do it, to prove she could.

  “Christ, Ella, are you really willing to jeopardise everything by putting her in front of a hungry journalist?”

  “By the time we’ve finished with her she’ll be fine. She’s not stupid, Clara, just shy. We’ll prepare her so that she could win over any journalist. And, let’s face it, she’s the most innocent looking one of us. No one’s going to think she made it up.”

  “I suppose so. But only because I don’t have any other ideas. We can’t send her in wearing her horrible jeans and even more horrible jumpers.” Clara sniffed.

  “Um, were either of you going to talk to me about this rather than just plotting it together?” Virginia was peeved.

  “Sorry Virginia. Will you do it?” Ella asked.

  “Well, I’ll try. But you know how I get in front of strangers.”

  “Yes, and we’ll have to work on your appearance,” Clara said.

  “Virginia?” Ella asked.

  “I don’t have much choice, do I? You helped me get Isabelle, and this is the least I can do.” Virginia felt nervous just thinking about it.

  “OK. I’ll find the right reporter and I’ll script the story. Clara, you have to get in touch with Tim, hint you may want to see him soon, keep him hanging on. You can work on Virginia’s appearance too. I mean, Virginia, there’s nothing wrong with the way you look, but you should be a bit more sophisticated for this.” Ella tried to sound diplomatic.

  “It’s fine. I know I’m not the height of chic. And I’ll do it, but please, Clara, be gentle with me.” Virginia laughed and the others did too.

  “Sometimes, Virginia, I almost think you’re funny,” Clara said, as she refilled the wineglasses yet again.

  They kept drinking. The initial plot was set but they didn’t make any move to leave. It was late, and Virginia was so nervous that she was getting more and more drunk. Ella was upset so she was drinking more than usual, and Clara was worried so she was drinking more than both of them. By the time they stopped, it was out of the question for anyone to drive. They talked more about Ella’s situation. Clara was sure that Tony was alive and said that Ella should think about getting in touch with her brother. Virginia
said that if her family loved her as she said they did, she should call them. After all, not everyone was lucky enough to have a family like that. Ella said she wanted to, but she was still too scared.

  “We’re all scared of something, aren’t we?” Clara asked.

  “I guess so,” Ella replied.

  “So we have something else in common,” Virginia added.

  “Thanks, you guys.” Ella smiled.

  “What for?” Clara had never heard Ella sound so nice.

  “For not judging me, for listening, for being ... well, for understanding.”

  “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to us,” Clara said.

  “Well, there you go. I have a voice and Ella has a heart. What more surprises are in store for us?” Virginia joked.

  “I dread to think.” Ella laughed. Another barrier had come down.

  They all stayed in Clara’s flat that night. Virginia passed out from all the alcohol, Ella cried herself to sleep, and Clara took some more cocaine. She thought about Ella and felt for her. Although Tim had never hit her, the way he raped her had been violent. Clara knew that she had screwed up her life. She had been trying so hard to make her family proud of her, but they would probably disown her if they ever found out the truth. Every time she spoke to them, they wanted her to go home more, meet suitable men, get married. She had tried to tell them that she wanted more from life, but they said she was wrong. If she became Prime Minister her father would still say, “I didn’t send you to finishing school to become Prime Minister, I sent you to learn to cook.” She smiled to herself sadly as she thought how nice it would be to have their unconditional love.