by JS Taylor
So that’s how it works. Maybe this celebrity thing isn’t so bad after all.
I can hardly believe it. Camilla is staring at the empty floor in wonder.
“For one hour,” confirms Will. “So shop fast.”
“It’s ok,” says Natalie, addressing herself to Camilla and I. “I have contacts in some of the other stores on Bond Street, so we’ll get them privately for longer.”
“I’m just stoked to get Selfridges just for us,” I grin. “This is amazing.”
“Pretty good, hey?” agrees Natalie. “Being an actress has some great perks.” She scans the store. “I think I can see some perfect things for both of you,” she adds. “Let’s get shopping.”
It turns out, Natalie is truly a fun person to shop with. She makes the Selfridges experience into a great, girly adventure, throwing clothes at Cam and I, and insisting we try out daring items.
Then she tries on a stack of the silliest clothes for our amusement, breaking out of the dressing rooms in various ghastly outfits.
“What do you think?” she asks, striking a pose in lime green jeans and a studded bondage-style vest-top. “Good for the London clubs?”
“Depends which clubs,” I laugh as she makes a succession of exaggerated poses.
“This is so much fun,” says Camilla, emerging in a lilac floral dress which Natalie picked out for her.
“You look great, Cam,” I say as she twirls in front of the mirror.
“Oooo that is too cute,” agrees Natalie. “Hey, I saw some boots which would be perfect with that.” And she races off to grab them.
“You know what,” says Camilla, smiling at me, “she’s nice. Natalie. I like her. When she’s not on set and acting like a diva, she’s really cool.”
“Yeah, she is,” I agree. “Maybe being on set brings out the worst in her. But this shopping trip is great.”
The three of us spend the next thirty minutes trying on clothes and shoes and giggling as only groups of girls can. It’s the most carefree I’ve felt for weeks. Then Will announces we’ve got ten minutes left. And we start reluctantly getting ready to leave.
Coming out of the dressing room, I’m confused to see that the pile of clothes I’d hoped to buy has vanished. And then I spot the reason.
Natalie has taken all our clothes to the cash register and is running through her credit card.
I reach her side, just as she’s explaining to the clerk to box everything up and deliver it straight to our car.
“Wait,” I say, “you didn’t just pay for all that?”
“Oh, yeah.” She turns and gives me a beaming smile. “Yeah. I wanted to. You know, get you and Cam a present. For being so great and putting up with me.”
She shrugs. “I know I’ve been a nightmare. This is my way of saying sorry.”
Camilla has arrived with us now and is registering what’s just happened.
“That is so nice of you,” she protests, “but you didn’t have to do that.”
“Honestly,” says Natalie, with a wave of her hand. “It really is nothing. Besides, you both looked great in those clothes. It’s my pleasure. Really.”
I open my mouth to say something, and Natalie puts a gentle hand on my arm.
“Just accept the gift, ok?” Her green eyes settle meaningfully on mine. “I want to buy you these clothes.”
I suddenly see how much she wants to make amends.
“Ok,” I say, smiling in acceptance. “Thank you.”
She gives a sigh of relief and grins. “You know what we should do?”
“What?” I ask.
“Get a cocktail.” Her eyes are glowing. “Just one little cocktail. It would be fun, right?”
She catches my expression.
“Don’t worry,” she adds. “I’m still allowed to drink now and again. It’s just, you know, the illegal drugs I have to avoid.”
She’s joking, and I laugh.
“Ok then,” I say, looking at Camilla to check she’s happy with the idea. “I think that sounds like a great plan.”
Chapter 17
We’re sipping cocktails and swapping girly stories. And I feel like I’m seeing a completely different side to Natalie, now we’re out of the studio. She’s so much fun. I can easily see how she earned her a reputation as a party girl.
When we’ve finished identifying which cocktail waiter we’d most like to date, the conversation turns to the movie and when we’ll be finishing it.
“I think a few months more, and we’ll be done,” decides Natalie. “We’ve already got a lot of good material. And James works fast.”
She takes another sip of her cocktail.
“Did they lock the stalker away yet?” she asks.
I shake my head.
“Might be good timing,” suggests Natalie, revealing her reason for bringing it up. “If the court case and the movie release coincide, publicity will go through the roof.”
“I’m not sure I’d want that,” I say. “I know publicity is important, but I’d rather the movie did well on its own merit.”
Natalie shrugs. “All’s fair in love and show business.”
“They’re still trying to find the identity of the stalker,” I admit. “There’s some big puzzle for the police. Because they found links to James, and Berkeley Studios, going way back. Like the stalker was profiling James.”
Natalie raises her eyebrows.
“And he has some mysterious benefactor,” I add, suddenly charged with the urge to unburden myself to some female listeners. “Someone giving him money to build a legal case. And bribe prison guards.”
Camilla’s mouth drops open in horror, and Natalie looks shocked.
“That’s awful,” says Camilla. “Don’t worry, Issy, James will sort it all out,” she adds, loyally.
“That’s messed up,” agrees Natalie. “But Camilla’s right. You don’t need to worry.” She gives me a sympathetic smile and a little pat on the arm.
I feel better, having shared. Then I shudder at the memory of the text message, but decide not to reveal that particular piece of information.
“Do you think it’s someone with a grudge against James?” asks Natalie.
Beside me, I feel Camilla twitch. I know she hates the idea that anyone would target James.
“I don’t know,” I say. But some uneasy memories are coming to me. Of James’s dark past and his dead ex-girlfriend, Samantha.
Could it be that someone is trying to avenge her death? James mentioned she came from a good family. And she was surrounded by protective men.
That wouldn’t make sense. The stalker is obsessed with fame and celebrity. He was more interested in harming me than James.
My phone rings, distracting me from the conversation, and I pick it up to see Lorna’s number.
“Lorna!” I answer gleefully, hoping I have a chance to see her before we head back.
“Hi Issy.” Her voice is small. I can hear instantly that something is wrong.
“What is it?” I ask.
There’s a pause. “Are you still in London? Can I come talk to you?”
“I’m on Oxford Street. Where are you? Shall I come to Chelsea?”
Lorna’s tone is blank and empty. I’ve never heard her like this. A feeling of dread flashes through me.
Has Ben done something?
“No, I’ll come to you,” says Lorna. “I’m only five minutes away. I’ll get in a cab.”
I give her the location of the cocktail bar, holding off from asking her directly what’s wrong. It sounds like it’s something she wants to tell me in person.
I hang up to see Natalie and Camilla looking on with concern.
“It’s my friend,” I explain. “She sounds… upset.”
“Boyfriend trouble?” asks Camilla.
“I… I don’t know. It sounds serious though. I’ve never heard her sound like that.”
“Definitely man trouble,” says Natalie, picking up her glass and draining the rest of her cocktail. “We�
��ll head back to the studio and give you some room.”
Camilla nods.
“No wait,” I protest, feeling incredibly rude. “You don’t have to head off on my account.”
“Really, it’s no problem,” says Camilla, who has already finished her drink. “We were going to go after these anyway. Just meet us back at the studio.”
I smile at them weakly, grateful for their understanding.
They grab their bags and say their goodbyes. Security huddle at the door, ready to escort Natalie. And after a little protest from me, Will agrees to go with them.
“I’m not famous,” I insist. “No one in London has the slightest idea who I am. It’s Natalie you need to worry about.”
I watch them leave.
And then I wait with dread in my stomach for Lorna to arrive.
Chapter 18
Lorna is staring down into her drink. She refused a cocktail and asked for a water. Which made me instantly realise that something was very wrong indeed.
We wait for a few tense moments, not speaking whilst two iced waters are placed in front of us.
Lorna takes a long drag through her straw, as if prolonging her confession as long as possible.
Then, finally, she speaks.
“I did a test,” she says, quietly.
At first I’m not sure what she means. Then realisation dawns.
“A pregnancy test?”
“Uh-huh.” She’s still looking at her drink.
“Lorna.” I breathe out. “You’re pregnant?”
She’s nodding, and I leap out of my seat and throw my arms around her.
“Oh Lorna.” I’m both happy for her and worried at the same time.
I can see from her face she’s devastated. And I search for the words to reassure her.
“Is it Ben’s?” I ask, trying to put things in perspective.
She makes the slightest movement of her head.
Yes.
“Ok.” I try and sound upbeat. The truth is, I’d rather Lorna had got pregnant from a one night stand than by Ben Gracey. He is bad news.
“Does Ben know yet?” I ask gently.
Lorna shakes her head. Tears roll down her cheeks.
“Lorna, don’t cry. It will be fine, I promise. Babies are happy news.” I circle her more tightly in my arms. “You’ll be great, Lorna. And Ben. Well. Probably he’ll become the best boyfriend in the world once he’s sees your cute pregnant belly.”
Lorna gives a wobbly laugh through her tears.
“You don’t think I should look into abortion?” She raises her violet eyes to mine for the first time. And I see how frightened she looks. My heart goes out to her.
“Not if you don’t want to,” I say. “There’s no reason you can’t be a great mum. And Ben will come round. You just need to talk to him.”
But as I’m saying the words, I can’t imagine Ben Gracey being understanding. If he ditched Camilla because her trust fund wasn’t large enough, I can’t see him staying with a pregnant model.
“I’m so scared, Issy,” Lorna says, holding on tight to my arms. “I’m so, so scared. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“Are you worried about Ben?”
Lorna gives a giant sniff. “Yeah. He’s so hot and cold. I think this could push him away.”
“You don’t know until you tell him,” I say uncertainly. “There’s no point torturing yourself until you know for certain.”
She takes a breath. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. I should tell him. It’s just so hard, you know? I think he’d want me to get rid of the baby.”
Lorna chews her lip. “My mum will react badly too,” she adds. “I haven’t told her yet. She had me so young. She always wanted me to lead a different life from her.”
“Don’t let anyone else’s opinion sway you,” I insist. “You do the right thing for you. If you want to keep the baby, then don’t let anyone pressure you. I’ll be there to support you 110%.”
I stroke her hair. “You’re brave, Lorna. This will work out.”
“Do you think so?” Her face is pleading.
“I know so,” I say firmly. “And if Ben Gracey doesn’t want to be involved, then we’ll just raise the baby ourselves.”
Lorna laughs uncertainly through the tears. “Like the new Ellen DeGeneres and Portia de Rossi?”
“Absolutely,” I say, squeezing her arm. “You can teach the baby modelling, and I’ll show it how to hate the limelight. It’ll be perfect.”
I give her another squeeze. “A baby is a happy thing,” I repeat. “And you’re going to be a fantastic mother. I have no doubt at all.”
“Thanks Issy. I feel better. Really, I do.”
She sniffs again.
“I guess I need to man up and break the news to Ben.”
Chapter 19
I travel back to the studios, still in total shock. I tried to persuade Lorna to let me stay with her, but she wouldn’t hear of it.
“I’ve got to talk to Ben,” she said firmly. “It’s something we need to decide alone.”
So I decided to take public transport part of the way to the studio and a taxi the rest. And as I sit swaying in the anonymity of the train seat, I feel relieved that I’m not in a private car with a driver.
The news has hit me like a bomb-blast. So I’d rather not have to talk to anyone whilst I try to process it all.
First I think practically. Lorna will have to give up modelling. At least for a time. They don’t pay maternity leave to models, so she’ll need money.
I remember the huge sums in my bank account. At least that won’t be an issue.
Mostly it’s about how Ben will take the news. I claw up my fists and send up a silent heartfelt prayer.
Please. Please. Let him step up to his responsibilities. Don’t let him leave Lorna all alone to care for the baby.
Aside from wishing, there’s not much else I can do. Or is there? James has some sort of hold over Ben.
I take out my phone and send James a text message.
Do you have a minute to talk? I’m on my way back to the studio.
Instantly my phone rings.
It’s James, and I pick up cautiously, looking around the packed carriage.
“Hello?” I say quietly.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is full of concern.
“Nothing,” I say, “I just need to talk to you.”
I hear him pause.
“Are there other people with you?” he guesses.
“Yes,” I reply, relieved that he’s taken the hint. I’d rather not air Lorna’s life story on a public train carriage.
“Where are you?” he says.
“On a train back to Kent.”
There’s another pause, and I wonder if he’s angry again. He’s already expressed his dislike of women taking taxis alone. Does his prejudice extend to trains?
“I’ll come meet you,” he says shortly. “What time do you get in?”
“Um. Twenty minutes,” I say. “But James, there really is no need to…”
But he’s hung up already.
I look at the phone, exasperated. He really needs to stop doing that.
James meets me at the station, looking like a man awaiting execution.
“What is it?” he asks as soon as he’s steered me away from the crowded platform. “What’s wrong?”
I tell him the news about Lorna and Ben, and James looks grim.
“It could be worse,” he says after a pause. “I thought you might be breaking up with me.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, this makes me laugh. But his face stays serious.
“You didn’t really think that?” I ask.
“Not in my rational mind,” he admits. “But when you feel the way I feel about you, Issy, there’s always room for paranoia. Most mornings, I wake up thinking it was all a dream, and I could never get this lucky.”
Oh James.
I kiss his nose. “I feel that way too,” I assure hi
m. “And besides,” I joke, “I would never initiate a break up with you by text, when I could email.”
He laughs at this, and I feel relieved. Then I remember the issue with Lorna.
“Do you think Ben might come around?” I ask, desperate for some good news.
The expression on James face is not what I want to see.
“No,” he says, much too quickly. “I don’t. Not only is Ben completely irresponsible, he has some family issues of his own right now. Knowing Ben, he’ll view this as another problem and want to get as far away from it as possible.”
No! He can’t leave Lorna!
I sigh miserably. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”
“You want me to interfere in Ben and Lorna’s lives?”
“Well, yes.” I stare up into his green eyes. “I mean, you did it before, right? With Camilla. You intervened, didn’t you?” I press. “You made Ben back off.”
“I’m glad Camilla told you,” says James. “And yes, I did intervene, Issy. But it was a very different circumstance. Camilla was barely sixteen and fresh out of boarding school. She was also a relative of mine and under the care of my father’s household.”
He sighs. “I’m not even sure that Lorna would want me to be involved,” he adds. “She’s an adult, after all.”
“But you do have influence with Ben, don’t you?”
I’m remembering Ben’s reaction to James when they met in Spain. How Ben seemed to shrivel away under James’s assertion that he didn’t take responsibility.
“Yes,” admits James. “After a fashion.”
I stay silent, and after a moment, he glances at my expectant expression and speaks again.
“I give him money,” he says.
James gives Ben money?
“Why?” I am amazed.
Is Ben blackmailing James?
“Ben has a mother who is on her third unhappy marriage, and a brother in a mental institution,” says James. “I occasionally give him money to help smooth over some of his family circumstances. I’m happy to do it.”
“But you don’t like Ben. Why should you give him money?”
“My father cut Ben and his mother off without a penny,” says James. “I understand his reasons. Ben’s mother behaved appallingly. But I don’t believe in divorce, I believe in family.”