by Alison Bond
‘It’s not a good idea,’ said Max. “You have to go where the work is. Quality should be more important than location.’
Well, it’s not. Not to me.’ She picked at her overpriced salad and hoped that Max wouldn’t take too much persuading. She didn’t have the energy.
‘There’s nothing decent coming up in the greater LA area.’
‘Then I won’t work. That’s just the way it is.’
Max knew her well enough to sense that she would not move from her position. Personally he thought Dante was poisonous, but there was no denying that her liaison with a director from the edgy set had helped Ruby’s profile. It was sometimes hard for an actress as beautiful as Ruby to attain credibility, and an association with Dante had guaranteed that. But since Disturbance, Dante had made only one picture, an ill-conceived thriller that had attracted a cult following and got plenty of bad press for being too violent. It didn’t exactly storm the box office either. Unless Dante made another film soon his reputation was bound to waver, and Max didn’t want Ruby to be dragged down with him. In Hollywood one could only be an artist for so long before people got bored and wanted to be entertained.
‘No problem,’ said Max. ‘Local only, I get it.’ He would leave the battle for now but if it became career-threatening he would see that she took the best part available, even if it shot on the damn subcontinent.
‘One more thing…’ he said.
‘What?’
‘You’re getting thin, Ruby. Did you notice?’
She tugged at the waistband of her gypsy skirt. It pulled a couple of inches away from her tiny waist. ‘I’ve lost a little weight maybe.’
‘Try not to lose any more, okay? Look after yourself, eat, get some rest.’
‘Are you criticizing the way I look? Because the way I look paid you plenty of commission last year.’
‘Last year you had hips.’
Ruby was insulted. ‘I get other offers, you know that, don’t you? Every agent in town would be happy to have me.’
‘I know they would,’ he said. ‘I apologize. You always look fabulous. Shall we order dessert? The cheesecake here is unbeatable.’ He stared at her over the calorie-laden dessert menu and winked.
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and then looked away. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Cheesecake. Make mine a large one.’ She knew that if she met his eyes she would laugh. She would never leave Max. He was too good.
21
Limiting herself to Los Angeles gave Ruby a degree of freedom. She enjoyed taking life a little slower, instead of relentlessly chasing down the few outstanding roles for women. She should have taken a break years ago. Of course Max was bound to tell her that career breaks didn’t work in this industry, his percentage depended on it, but she thought he was wrong. Her star couldn’t fall that quickly. Meanwhile, Ruby enjoyed the time she spent with Octavia and Vincent, feeling like a normal wife and mother instead of a movie star with an open relationship. Would a movie star be filling empty yogurt pots with water and throwing them into the bath tub as it ran? The twins’ amusement far outweighed the sophistication of the game, but they delighted in making the room as wet as possible and themselves as slick as seals. Ruby’s bare feet slipped on the damp floor and she was just starting to wonder whether this game was practical, or indeed safe, when the doorbell chimed.
She couldn’t very well leave the children with all that water, so she grabbed one with each hand and called out that she was coming. She caught sight of herself in the mirror in the hallway – half of her hair was soaked, and she hoped that it wasn’t anybody important.
She looked through the spyhole in the door and exclaimed ‘Shit!’ in front of the kids.
It was Ella. Ella and a boy who Ruby knew with sickening certainty was Dante’s son, Tomas. She took a sharp breath and held it, spinning away from the door and backing up against the wall, her heart pounding.
Why was Ella here? She was supposed to be in Essex, never to be seen again. How had she found them? And what did she want? The beachside bubble in which Ruby existed suddenly popped. She thought she could handle other women, but not this one, not Ella. How was she supposed to compete with the mother of Dante’s firstborn son? For a moment she was not Ruby Valentine, Oscar-winning actress and bona fide superstar. She was just Ruby in London, nervous and unsure in the shadow of her vivacious friend. Perhaps if she stayed very, very quiet Ella would go away.
As if on cue, Octavia wailed and wrestled free, bored of her hand being held with a vice-like grip. Her brother revved up to follow suit, Ruby could see it coming. Then Ella’s voice surprised all of them.
‘Come on, Ruby. I know you’re there. You shouted out, remember? I’m not gonna bite your head off. Let me in. Tomas needs a wee.’
With a shaking hand Ruby opened the door. Ella had hardly changed in ten years. A little plumper maybe but she wore it well. Ruby missed a breath when she saw Tomas properly for the first time; he looked like Dante in miniature. A son in his image? Dante would never want them to leave. If she was lucky, they would be gone by the time he got home. She knew from past experience that he would probably be very late.
The two women had not spoken since that fateful night in London when Ella told Ruby to stay away from Dante. When she told her that it was over, that Ruby had lost him. Scared though she was, Ruby wanted to enjoy this moment of victory. She could clearly remember Ella telling her that she would amount to nothing, and the way that had made her feel. Utterly hopeless. Now she noticed that Ella was wearing cheap shoes and up close you could see the lines around her eyes when she smiled.
Why was she smiling, Ruby wondered. Wasn’t this humiliating? Ella had been wrong. Ruby had won. She braced herself for confrontation.
‘Where’s the bathroom?’ asked Ella. ‘We’re bursting.’
She caught Ruby off-guard. ‘Upstairs,’ she said. ‘Through the master bedroom.’ She didn’t usually like guests to use her private bathroom but she wanted to make sure that Ella saw the Oscar on the mantelpiece.
‘Cheers. Come on, you.’ Ella grabbed the little boy by the hand and hurried upstairs. ‘You’re looking good,’ she threw over her shoulder as she disappeared.
Was she? Ruby checked her face in the mirror again and tidied her damp hair. She pulled some toys out of the big cane basket in the corner of the room and sat Octavia and Vincent down in front of them. ‘Play nicely,’ she whispered.
Perhaps Ella wanted money? Why else would she have turned up on their doorstep after all this time? Ruby waited anxiously and wondered how much she would have to pay her to get them to leave. She walked across the room to the writing desk and took her chequebook out of the drawer there. She had been steadily building up her cash investments over the years. It cost almost nothing to live the way they did. They had friends who lived in mansions five times the size with armies of staff – why? So Ruby had accumulated a sizeable fortune that she was prepared to spend to protect their way of life, to protect her family.
When Ella came back downstairs Tomas noticed the toys straight away and ran over to the twins. ‘I’m Octavia and this is Vincent,’ said Octavia formally, speaking for her brother as she always did.
‘I’m Tomas.’
‘Okay’ They looked at him curiously but moved aside and let him share like the innocents they were.
Ella was wiping her hands dry on the side of her flared jeans. ‘Nice place,’ she said.
Thanks.’
‘Any chance of a cup of tea?’
And so Ruby found herself rattling around in the kitchen, pushing aside the margarita mix to find a box of English tea bags and wondering if Ella would object to soya milk, which seemed to be the only kind they had. She even dragged out a box of cookies that were really meant for the children, going so far as to arrange them on a plate.
When she walked back into the living room she saw Ella sitting cross-legged on the floor with the children, her children, laughing and tickling Octavia’s tummy. The little girl was in
hysterics.
‘Please don’t do that,’ said Ruby. ‘It’s almost her bedtime and I don’t want to get her overexcited.’
‘Sorry,’ said Ella, and pulled away. ‘Tommy will probably want to sleep too, he must be shattered, and you and I can catch up properly. I can’t wait to hear what it’s like to be you. You’re dead famous, Ruby. There’s not a week goes by when you aren’t in the papers. Nobody believes me when I tell them we’re friends.’
‘Friends?’ said Ruby. She’d had enough. This wasn’t a public bathroom. This was her house, her family, not a rest stop. ‘Ella, what are you doing here?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Do you want money, because if that’s it…’ She pulled her chequebook out from beneath her cushion. ‘Dante should provide for his son. That’s only fair.’
‘Ruby, what are you talking about? Where’s Dante?’
‘He isn’t here.’
Where is he?’
‘I don’t know.’ She didn’t like the way that sounded but the truth, that he was probably with another woman, would sound even worse. Something in Ella’s expression made Ruby think that she needn’t have bothered to lie. It was hard to remember that Ella would know what Dante was like to love, to live with and have a child with. She knew.
‘He did tell you, didn’t he? Jesus, Rube, please tell me that he told you.’
‘Tell me what?’
‘Tomas and I. He invited us to live here, we’re moving in.’
The look of horror on Ruby’s face said it all.
‘He didn’t ask you?’ said Ella. ‘Blimey, how embarrassing. It’s just that he knows that things aren’t great for us back home, we were still living with my mum, you know?’
Ruby didn’t know. For a moment she felt the painful stab of ignorance. There was a sense of betrayal. Why hadn’t Dante discussed this with her? They were opening up their home to his ex-wife and child? For how long? Was she supposed to be down with this? Had their open-house policy suddenly been extended to include enemies from the past? Ruby was all for freedom and a mi casa su casa mentality, but it was understood that everyone went home eventually. The beach house she adored suddenly felt tiny and crowded. Should she backtrack and pretend that of course she knew? That of course Dante hadn’t done this without asking her opinion, considering her feelings? The house was in her name, it was her home. She couldn’t pretend to be at ease with the situation, no way, even Ruby wasn’t that good an actress.
Ella continued, ‘It’s been impossible for me to get back to work, what with this little terror.’ She ruffled her son’s dark hair affectionately. ‘Dante’s cheques were the only thing keeping us going and then…’
‘His cheques?’
‘Yes,’ said Ella hesitantly. She lifted her china cup, stalling for time. She should have expected something like this from him; how Ruby had stayed married to him all this time she had no idea. ‘Sod the tea,’ she said. ‘Have you got anything stronger?’
Once the children had been settled upstairs – three to a bed, new best friends – Ruby and Ella made tentative steps back towards amity. Dante had been sending substantial child support cheques this whole time. He considered himself close enough to them to invite them to stay. They were a part of his life and so they were a part of hers.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Ella could be her ally. ‘What are your plans?’ asked Ruby.
‘Nothing for a while, just relax, regenerate, you know? I need a break.’
Ruby didn’t ask if she planned to support herself, that wasn’t the way it worked at the beach, but Ella must have read something in her eyes. ‘I’ll look after the kids, obviously,’ said Ella. ‘If you have to work or whatever.’
If Ruby had a problem with Ella being mother to one of Dante’s children, was she really prepared to let her start mothering all three?
‘Do you still love him?’ asked Ruby.
‘Dante? No! But I love my son, and Dante will always be a part of that.’
‘What happened with you two?’
‘In Rome? Nothing that hadn’t already happened in London. Drugs, other women. I don’t know why I thought he would change. Men like Dante don’t change.’ She paused awkwardly. ‘I mean, obviously, unless they meet a woman like you.’
Ruby tried to smile as if she had tamed him, but in the face of her oldest friend she couldn’t keep up the charade.
‘It’s different for me,’ she said. ‘You don’t understand. If he left me I don’t think I could go on. I love him so I let him do what he likes.’
‘Sweetheart,’ said Ella. ‘Don’t you think that’s… submissive?’
‘No, I think that’s what makes me special’.
Ella was shocked. ‘You don’t think you’re special? Ruby you’re a star, a brilliant actress, an Oscar winner. That’s not enough?’
‘I’m not the only actress in town, not the best or the most beautiful. Every year there’s another winner.’
‘Dante couldn’t survive without you.’
Had he told Ella that? Had he said he couldn’t live without her? Did he love her as much as she loved him?
But Ella continued, ‘He’s never had a penny. He’s only done those two films, right? Low budget. The man hasn’t got a pot to piss in without you.’
Ruby didn’t really think about money. She had that middle-class hang-up about talk of money being vulgar. She knew she had quite a bit. She just had Max send her fees into her account and then paid for everything that they needed. Their laidback lifestyle was not expensive.
‘Did you have to marry him?’ said Ella.
‘Of course.’
‘It would be easy for him to get a piece of you. If you divorced.’
‘We won’t.’ She would make sure of it. The thought of divorce was revolting.
‘Just protect yourself, Ruby. You’d carry on without him, even if you think you couldn’t. And you are unique, okay? It’s not about money or Oscars, you just are.’
Ruby could see that the roles had reversed. It had been years since she had last sat and talked this way with Ella, and even now Dante was still the main topic of conversation. One girl consoling the other, reassuring her that she was worthwhile no matter what he said. Only this time it wasn’t Ella’s heart that was breaking, it was Ruby’s.
‘I was scared when I saw you,’ said Ruby. ‘But now I don’t care what happened in the past. I’m glad you’re here.’
‘We were children then,’ said Ella nostalgically. ‘What did we know of love?’
Ruby started to smile but stopped as she heard the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway. Her eyes darted around the room as if she was nervous. ‘You won’t tell him about this, will you?’
‘About what?’ said Ella, genuinely confused.
‘I can handle it,’ she said. ‘The drugs, the women, all of it. I didn’t mention divorce, you did.’
‘Calm down,’ said Ella. She watched Ruby check her face in the mirror and smooth imaginary creases out of her silk dress, thinking that for a woman who’d just found out her husband was moving his ex-wife and child in, she was acting oddly. If it was Ella, she’d be preparing to give him hell. But then Ruby was different, maybe she was right, maybe that’s why their love would work. She didn’t recognize the twisted mix of apprehension and adoration on Ruby’s face as love, however.
‘He’s coming,’ said Ruby, and ran to the door to welcome him. She was clearly besotted. Maybe Dante had changed.
22
It made the papers. Ruby and Dante Valentine taking in his ex-wife and child. News of this thoroughly modern arrangement was accompanied by editorials berating the declining moral standards of the country. Ruby’s popularity faltered. Audiences stayed away from her latest film.
She laughed it off and enjoyed the notoriety. The newspapers made it sound like a drug-fuelled ménage à trois but the truth was that their bizarre little family functioned well.
The children grew up happily together and it was go
od for the twins to have an older brother, just as it was good for only child Tomas to have them. Ella was as entertaining as ever – time and motherhood did not seem to have subdued her. She threw herself into the Los Angeles arts scene: one month she wanted to be a concert promoter, the next she wanted to open a gallery. After a couple of years it was as if they had always been there.
Ruby considered the situation a personal triumph. Not many women would have had the strength of character to adapt so easily to these circumstances. She had not only accepted it but embraced it.
The only problem now was Dante. He was fearful and resdess, taking too many drugs and growing increasingly paranoid. He wanted to get out of Los Angeles, he kept calling it hell.
‘It’s over,’ he said. ‘The soul of the place has gone. Listen.’
Dutifully Ruby cocked her ear to listen for something.
‘Do you hear it?’
She didn’t, but she nodded. He was convinced that if he could only escape the limitations of the West Coast then he would flourish. Ruby knew that it had nothing to do with the city, it was the drugs. He was taking an enormous amount of cocaine, the first line of the day before his morning coffee, and Ruby suspected that he was experimenting with heroin. She didn’t push him on the subject. But sometimes, at night when she couldn’t sleep and he was out cold beside her, she searched him for needle marks, checking first his arms and then gently between his fingers and toes because she knew he’d try to hide it. She never found anything and was deeply thankful but darkly sure that it was only a matter of time. She didn’t know what to do.
She would be in love with an addict, supporting a habit that would eventually kill him. Could she handle that?
But Dante’s fragile mental state had a hidden benefit for Ruby. For the first time in their lives he admitted to needing her. ‘Don’t go,’ he said on the morning of a costume fitting for her next movie.