Strange Allure

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Strange Allure Page 16

by Susan Lewis


  ‘No wonder Richard’s given up reporting for a while,’ Jilly commented. ‘Poor thing’s in a really bad way. Do you think she’s on anything?’

  ‘What, you mean medication? She could be. Let’s just hope it’s legal.’

  ‘Oh come on, she wouldn’t go back to all that.’

  Rosa shrugged. ‘Some do. Anyway, she obviously didn’t want to talk about Carla.’

  Jilly’s eyes widened. ‘Are you surprised?’ she said. ‘And I don’t understand you trying to bring the subject up when anyone can see how uptight she is.’ She paused, then added. ‘She looks absolutely dreadful, doesn’t she? She must have put on at least a stone and a half. I’ve never seen her that size before.’

  ‘Yet she hardly ate a thing,’ Rosa pointed out.

  ‘Could be nerves, if this is the first time she’s been out for months.’

  Rosa finished off her Perrier. ‘Do you think anyone’s told her about the programme going out?’

  ‘Wouldn’t she have mentioned it if they had?’

  Rosa shrugged. ‘I’m surprised no-one from the press has been in touch with her, you know, for interviews and the like. Mind you, looking the way she does she’d be doing herself a favour if she turned them all down.’

  ‘Imagine what that would be like for Carla,’ Jilly said, ‘having Chrissie promote the programme after everything that’s happened.’

  ‘Oh, she’d survive,’ Rosa sneered.

  Jilly didn’t respond to that, for she knew that Rosa’s antipathy towards Carla lay in the fact that Carla had blocked her casting for any of the Beyond series. ‘You know what, I think we should tell Chrissie about the programme,’ she said. ‘If she already knows, no harm done, if she doesn’t, well, she has a right to know, don’t you think?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Rosa agreed. ‘And imagine how she’d feel if she found out through a promo, or a reporter, or something? I mean, she’s going to look pretty stupid if someone calls her up and she doesn’t have the first idea what they’re talking about.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Jilly said, going for a new angle on the subject, ‘what do you think her relationship with Richard’s really like?’

  Rosa laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘What’s anyone’s relationship with anyone really like?’ she responded. ‘But considering the mess she’s in I wouldn’t say it was great, would you?’

  Jilly shook her head, then, after a moment’s further reflection, she said, ‘I wonder who started their relationship, her or him?’

  Rosa shrugged. ‘Does it matter now?’

  ‘It might. I don’t know. It could be why she’s in such a bad way, because she can’t forgive herself for taking him away from Carla. The trouble is she seems to genuinely love him. There again, so did Carla.’

  ‘Well, we know which one of them he chose,’ Rosa responded.

  ‘Mmm.’ Jilly mulled that over for a while, then said, ‘You know, I always thought Carla and Richard had something really special, didn’t you? I have to confess I even felt jealous of it sometimes, it seemed so, well, exclusive and … I don’t know, deep, I guess.’

  Rosa’s expression was both sour and glum. ‘I know what you mean,’ she said, lamenting her own lack of success in the worlds of exclusive and deep. ‘But then why did he go off with Chrissie?’

  ‘Because she was pregnant? Maybe he loves them both.’

  They sat with that for a moment, then Jilly added, ‘You know what I think, I think Chrissie’s afraid to trust him. After all, she, more than anyone, knows what he did to Carla, and if he’s done it once, what’s to say he won’t do it again?’

  ‘And leave her with the baby?’

  Jilly shrugged. ‘He could try to take Ryan with him.’

  ‘My God, that would destroy her,’ Rosa claimed. ‘Except she doesn’t seem particularly interested in the child, which is really weird when you consider how desperately she always wanted one.’

  Downstairs in the ladies room Chrissie was locked inside a cubicle with a bundle of soft white toilet roll pressed to her face as she tried to stifle her sobs. She shouldn’t have come here. She shouldn’t have allowed Richard to talk her into it. But she’d felt so much better earlier. So strong and happy and excited about seeing the girls. She’d even managed to give Ryan a hug, but she’d put her down again quickly because she didn’t like the way Ryan looked at her. Ryan thought she was a stranger, it was why she always screamed when Chrissie touched her. Babies didn’t like strangers.

  And Chrissie didn’t like being away from Richard.

  She should go home. She was afraid to be here any longer, but then the thought of going home scared her too, because he would be shut up in his study again, with the door closed keeping her out. When he went to the library, or to see old colleagues, he always locked the study door then too, so she couldn’t go in. Why did he do that? What was he hiding? And what was he bringing home in those big brown parcels all the time? He said it was books, but she never saw them. It could be anything.

  Everything was scaring her. She hated being so afraid, and wanted to stop, but she didn’t know how to. There was a man who’d been watching her, and he terrified her too. She’d seen him twice now, once outside the house looking up at the windows, then again when she was flagging down a taxi to come here. Of course, he could be someone who lived on their square. But even that rational excuse didn’t stop her fear.

  ‘Oh God, please help me,’ she choked. ‘Please give me the strength to go back out there.’

  At the table Jilly was checking her watch. ‘She’s been gone ages,’ she said. ‘Do you think I should go and see if she’s all right?’

  ‘One of us should. I’ll order another round of coffee, hers has gone cold. Oh, hang on, here she is.’

  ‘Hi, I’m sorry I was so long,’ Chrissie said, all smiles as she bustled back into her chair. ‘It’s just that sometimes I get a bit, you know.’

  From the look on Jilly’s and Rosa’s faces it was clear that they didn’t know, nor could they find the right response to the swollen devastation of Chrissie’s once lovely blue eyes and soft creamy cheeks.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Jilly finally managed.

  ‘Oh yes, I’m fine,’ Chrissie answered brightly, as though no such thing as a blotch had ever touched her face, and not a particle of mascara had even thought about smudging. ‘Now where were we? I know we were talking about your West End run. I want to hear all about it. Which play was it? Who was in it with you? Who got off with whom?’

  After an anxious glance at Rosa, Jilly, not sure what else to do, began telling her what she wanted to know. After a while Rosa chimed in too, then, like a train slowly gathering speed, the story started to become more animated and exaggerated, and then Chrissie was laughing, and seeming to enjoy it so much that they really got into their stride, and before long they were happily speeding her away from whatever had caused her to cry so hard, and taking her to a place where they could all forget for a while that she might just be on the brink of a breakdown, until Rosa suddenly said, ‘Did you know that There and Beyond is being transmitted in a couple of weeks?’

  Chrissie’s face turned white, making it plain that she didn’t.

  Jilly kicked Rosa under the table, but Rosa didn’t see how they could stop now, so she said, ‘We guessed you might not have heard, so we thought that maybe it might be better hearing it from someone … Well, someone like us.’

  Chrissie’s eyes were darting about their still pink sockets as her head moved oddly from side to side. Then suddenly she said, ‘Do you think Carla might want me to do some interviews? I haven’t been in front of a camera for so long … But I could do it. If she wanted me to. I wonder who’s in charge of publicity?’

  ‘I heard she’s got some hot shot publicity woman from LA helping her out,’ Rosa said.

  ‘Avril Hayden,’ Jilly confirmed. ‘You remember Avril, she and Carla went to university together.’

  ‘Yes, of course I remember Avril,’ Chrissie said, looking edgier and pa
ler than ever. ‘Maybe I should try to get in touch with her.’

  Jilly nodded, uncertainly. ‘Anyway,’ she said, moving on, ‘the really big news on the grapevine is that John Rossmore’s supposed to be directing the next series.’

  Chrissie looked stunned, then pinched with jealousy.

  ‘But it’s only a rumour,’ Jilly hastily assured her. ‘My agent mentioned it, but you know my agent, she gets everything wrong. And John Rossmore’s an actor, not a director, so she’s definitely wrong about this.’

  ‘I really loved directing those programmes,’ Chrissie declared. Then with an unconvincing show of nonchalance, she went on, ‘Still, that’s all in the past. I’ve got a baby now, and a wonderful husband, and such a hectic life that I’m wondering if I’ll really have time to do any publicity. I’ll just wait to see if anyone gets in touch with me, I think. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.’ She looked at Rosa and Jilly, then, lowering her eyes to where her hands were tugging at a napkin, she said quietly, ‘Yes, that’s what I’ll do.’

  Rosa glanced at Jilly, then back at Chrissie as Chrissie picked up her bag and took five twenty-pound notes out of her purse and put them on the table.

  ‘This is Richard’s treat,’ she said. ‘He insisted.’

  Jilly looked at the money. ‘Please tell him thank you,’ she said.

  ‘Absolutely,’ Rosa added.

  ‘I will. It’s been a lovely lunch. We must do it again soon. I’ll give you a call, OK?’

  After kissing them both she got her coat from the cloakroom, then went outside into the bustle of South Kensington to hail a cab.

  It didn’t take long to get home, and she’d barely closed the front door when Richard came out of his study to ask if she’d had a good time.

  ‘It was OK,’ she answered, taking off her coat. ‘The girls were on form, and I kept my promise, I didn’t have more than two glasses of wine.’

  He smiled and kissed her.

  ‘Did you know There and Beyond’s about to be transmitted?’ she asked, looking up into his face.

  He nodded, and searched her eyes with his own, before saying, ‘There’s a message for you to call Avril Hayden. She’s doing the publicity. Elinor took it while I was out,’ he added, referring to their temporary nanny.

  ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘Along to Harrods to sort out your birthday present,’ he answered, squeezing her.

  She turned away and started towards the kitchen. ‘Where’s the message? I should call Avril back. She might want me to do something.’

  When he didn’t answer she turned to look at him. ‘What’s wrong?’ she said.

  Letting out the breath he was holding he said, ‘Nothing. Nothing at all. The message is on the board.’

  Refusing to feel guilty about not going to see the baby who had a nanny now, she walked on into the kitchen to use the phone, and taking the number from the blackboard, she dialled it, then turned to gaze blindly out of the window, where their small patio garden was dying.

  ‘Hi, Avril Hayden,’ Avril’s voice came down the line.

  ‘Avril. It’s Chrissie,’ she said softly. Then, clearing her throat. ‘Chrissie Fields.’

  ‘Oh. Chrissie, yes,’ Avril said. ‘How are you?’

  ‘OK. How are you?’

  ‘Good. Thank you.’

  ‘I got your message to call.’

  ‘Yes,’ Avril responded. ‘Did you know that the programme’s being …’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Chrissie said.

  ‘Right. Well, there’s a chance that a couple of reporters, or feature writers or …’

  ‘I’ll be happy to do it,’ Chrissie told her.

  Avril was silent.

  Chrissie’s heart started pounding.

  Avril said, ‘The thing is, Chrissie, Carla, well, she went through a pretty rough time after everything that happened, and I think, perhaps …’

  ‘It’s OK. I understand,’ Chrissie said sharply. ‘You don’t want me to do it.’

  There was a long pause. Both knew the other was still there, but neither knew what to say. In the end it was Chrissie who spoke.

  ‘I suppose this is better than killing me, which was what she threatened to do.’

  Avril said nothing.

  Chrissie put down the phone.

  Several seconds ticked by, then, sensing Richard was in the doorway, she turned to look at him.

  ‘Come here,’ he said, holding out his arms.

  When she didn’t move he went to her, and held her tightly. ‘It’s all right,’ he whispered, as she started to shake. ‘You don’t need them. We’ll work things out for us, and you’ll never need them again.’

  Carla’s laughter rang out as Avril did an hilarious imitation of Danny Williams, an Express reporter whom they both knew well, and, in equal measure, adored and detested.

  ‘“So Avril,”’ Avril was saying in a broad Welsh accent, while squinting one eye as though to keep a monocle in place, ‘“it’s like this: we’ll give you a full page for your story, if you promise me your next exclusive from Hollywood, with tits. Is that a great deal, or is that a great deal?” So I say, “Danny, make it a double page and I’ll throw my tits in for free.” And he says, “I heard you had falsies, but I didn’t know they were detachable.”’

  ‘The man’s priceless,’ Carla laughed. ‘So what did we end up with? Single or double?’

  ‘Double, so’s he can find out if they do come off. Now, that’s not all,’ Avril continued, going back to her reams of scribbled notes. ‘Ah yes, are the master tapes in London yet? Channel Four needs them to put some promos together.’

  ‘Sonya got Securicor to take them yesterday.’

  ‘Great, so you’re already onto that. Let me see …’ She flicked through the pages, quickly reeling off everything Carla needed to know, and finishing with: ‘I’m waiting to hear back from British Airways about buying the entire series to show on their in-flight video systems.’

  Carla’s mouth dropped open. ‘You’re kidding,’ she murmured.

  ‘Do I look like I’m kidding? We should hear in a few days. I know that’s not really my territory, sales, but it kind of happened as a byproduct of something else, and who’s going to say no?’

  Carla laughed, and stuck her arms in the air for a luxurious stretch. They were in the cosy little sitting room at the back of the cottage, where a fire was shifting sluggishly in the hearth, and shadows from the rain-spattered windows speckled the gold and cream striped wallpaper above the dado rail. On the deep two-seater sofa, next to Carla, were printouts of the rough-draft scripts she’d been working on these past few days; covering the shaggy rug between her and the fireguard were examples of some of the magazines and newspapers Avril had been talking about, a slumbering Eddie, and a tray of cold coffee. Avril herself was slouched in the big comfy chair that everyone loved to sit in, her slim legs hooked over one arm, a clipboard resting on her knees.

  ‘Now, on to the more personal stuff,’ Avril said. ‘I’ve spoken to most of the TV and radio shows that could feature you, and they’re …’

  ‘Me?’

  Avril looked up. ‘Of course you. If Chrissie’s not going to be doing the interviews someone has to, and by my reckoning that leaves you. Which means you should prepare yourself to be asked about Chrissie, and whether or not she’s going to be involved in the next series, what she’s doing now, etc, etc. God knows what they’ll ask, I just want you to be ready when they start getting to the down-and-dirty.’

  Carla’s expression showed how little she was liking this.

  ‘Of course,’ Avril said, looking down at the page in front of her, ‘you can avoid it all by handing everything over to John Rossmore and letting him deal with it. We’ll have no problem getting him airtime, obviously, and we can always fill him in on what does or doesn’t need to be said regarding Chrissie. He’s a professional at this, and you, little honey-pie, turned green the minute I mentioned it.’

  The narrow escape was too recent for
Carla’s laughter to be anything but weak. Then, realizing she’d just been backed into a corner again, she fixed Avril with warning eyes, and said, ‘He’s on the team, OK? So don’t keep doing this to me. I just have to tell him the good news, which I will when he calls.’

  Avril’s whoop of triumph startled Eddie out of his siesta and even made Carla jump. ‘I knew you’d go for it,’ she cried. ‘I just knew it. So now I can get back to his publicity agent and start putting in motion everything we’ve been cooking up.’

  ‘I’d like to talk to him first,’ Carla said.

  ‘Sure. When’s that going to be?’

  ‘Probably sometime today, if he keeps to his word and rings.’

  ‘He will. Now, you’re having dinner with us all tonight, aren’t you? Sonya’s booked a restaurant in Bath somewhere …’

  ‘I can’t make it,’ Carla interrupted.

  Avril stopped in confusion. ‘Why not?’ she demanded.

  Feeling a sudden tension in the back of her neck Carla glanced up at the bracket clock on the mantle, which had belonged to Granny, and was about as good at keeping time as she was at lying. So maybe she should just tell Avril the truth and be done with it. Actually, if she thought it would make sense to Avril she’d much rather do that, but it wouldn’t, and the last thing she wanted was for them to end up rowing.

  ‘I thought it was agreed, we’re all going for dinner tonight,’ Avril said, prompting her to speak. ‘Mark and Sonya have got a babysitter. It’s part of the reason I drove down here.’

  ‘I know,’ Carla responded. ‘And I did intend to come, but with the way everything’s going ahead so quickly …’

  ‘What’s that got to do with dinner this evening?’ Avril demanded.

  ‘I want to work on the scripts.’

  Avril set aside her clipboard and swung her feet to the floor. ‘OK, so now we’ve had the bullshit excuse, how about we go for the real one?’

  ‘Let’s just leave it, OK?’

  ‘No. There’re no prizes for guessing it’s got something to do with Richard, so why not just come right out and tell me?’

  ‘Because I’d rather not.’

 

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