Strange Allure

by Susan Lewis

  ‘Ah! You’re back!’ Graham said. ‘Did you have a good lunch?’

  Carla grinned. ‘Graham, you old groupie!’ she teased.

  ‘Less of the old. Anyway, I’ve got something to celebrate,’ he said, ‘and since I’m home alone, I wondered if you and Avril would do the honours?’

  ‘I’m sure we would. What are they?’

  ‘Come and drink some champagne?’

  ‘Too much of a hardship. But for you we can manage it. What are we celebrating?’

  ‘Actually, my sixtieth birthday, but I only fess up to fifty-three.’

  ‘Oh no!’ Carla cried. ‘Why didn’t you say something earlier? Of course we’ll be there. In fact, by the time you open the door we’ll be on the threshold. Oh God, how could I have forgotten?’

  ‘Well, you’ve had a lot …’

  ‘No, don’t let me off the hook, it’ll only make it worse. We’ll be there in less time than it takes to stop at Teddy Best’s to get a couple more bottles,’ and putting the phone down, she stuffed Avril’s purse into Avril’s hand, attached Eddie to his lead and marched them all out of the house into the twilight, taking just a few minutes longer than usual to lock up, as she got used to her new keys.

  Chapter 10

  THE NEXT TWO weeks flashed by so fast that even Avril, who was used to working at speed, was starting to get punchy with fatigue and excitement by the end of them. For this period of build-up the show was all hers, so, having lectured Carla harshly on matters of delegation and trust – in order to force her hands off the reins – she’d then ensured Carla’s non-interference by setting her a task she was in no position to refuse. Only then were Avril and Lionel really free to mastermind the launch of the series.

  ‘I want you to find me a small but smart office somewhere in the West End that will be suitable for my London base,’ Avril declared. ‘No, hear me out,’ she protested when Carla tried to interrupt. ‘This is something I’ve been meaning to get round to for a year or so, and now I’m here I might as well put it in motion. After all, I can’t go on squatting in other people’s offices and working out of hotels every time I’m in town. Which reminds me, we still need somewhere to live in London, so you can take that on too. Now, here’s your budget. The figure on the right is for the office, not the apartment, OK, just in case you were getting any ideas of evicting the Queen. Keep everything central, I’m not into group travel. Let me see, what else? Oh yes, you and John will need to start talking to potential investors for the next series any time now, so I need a copy of your spiel just in case anything crops up during the promotional period, which it will. Then there’s …’

  ‘Stop! I absolutely insist on speaking,’ Carla cried.

  Avril waited.

  Carla looked at her.

  ‘Fascinating,’ Avril commented, knowing very well that Carla was trying to tell her how nervous she was about going to London. But Avril didn’t intend to give that the time of day. London was a city Carla knew well, was home to her previous success and was also where her future lay. Once she was there, immersed in the whirl and challenge of it all, it would soon be as though she’d never left. So when the time came Avril simply handed Eddie over to Sonya, put Carla and a small suitcase into the Porsche and zoomed off up the motorway straight to an appointment with the estate agent. Not that the flat and office search was all that Carla had on her agenda for the next two weeks: there were several meetings with possible investors, also with a couple of international distributors, and plenty of deals to start getting under way with the show’s lifeblood organizations such as tour operators and airlines. Then there were the snatched get-togethers with John, who, despite being up to his eyes in the crazy publicity schedule, was still eager to start talking about staffing and casting the news series.

  And then suddenly, there they were, three days before transmission, swanning round the West End in a chauffeured Mercedes, poring over all the print coverage the programme was getting, while stopping off every now and then to view the places Carla had shortlisted for Avril’s office and apartment. And not a whimper had Avril heard from Carla in the entire two weeks she’d been there about being unable to cope, wanting to go home, or about her painful proximity to Richard. Of course, she was accessing the email regularly through Avril’s laptop, and though Avril was no more approving of this peculiar affair than before, she had to concede that, for the moment at least, it seemed to be doing no harm. Carla’s mood was generally up, and her dedication to getting it all back together was totally energized and effective. She was also totally torn apart with nerves, as promised funds failed to show up, throwing them all into panic, until suddenly a call came from the bank saying the accounts were now flush, and before they knew it the next lot of funding was going through its little heart-stopping routine of no-show, then show. Added to that was the mounting anxiety of transmission, though in Avril’s opinion Carla would have to be some kind of manic-depressive not to feel anything other than delighted with the amount of coverage it was getting, and at how brilliantly John Rossmore was handling it all.

  ‘He’s on The Quinn Wylie Show tonight,’ Avril said, clicking off her mobile and opening her agenda. ‘And apparently there’s a big piece going into the Saturday Express tomorrow that Lionel’s just told me about. He also wants to meet with you, or at least talk to you, before you go back to Cannock Martin for the weekend.’

  ‘Who? Lionel or John?’

  ‘John. He’s on his way back from Leeds. He’s going to call us at the hotel when he gets in. Where are we?’ she said, looking out of the car window at the grand terraced houses that lined both sides of the street they were passing through.

  ‘Somewhere between Chelsea and Victoria,’ Carla answered, glancing at her watch. ‘Kind of Pimlico. The agent’s meeting us there in … we’re already late,’ she declared, picking up her mobile as it rang. ‘Carla Craig.’ Her heart skipped several beats as a voice at the other end informed her that yet another major tour operator didn’t want to commit to anything until after the first transmission. ‘OK, then I’ll be on the phone to you first thing next Tuesday morning,’ she told the executive, and rang off. ‘Oh God, I don’t know how much more of this I can take,’ she muttered, but her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed with the sheer adrenalin of it all.

  ‘Is this office or flat we’re about to see?’ Avril asked.

  Carla was sitting forward, talking to the driver. ‘It’s just along there, the last one after the tree. That’s it, the one on the corner with the black door.’ She turned to Avril with a smile that took Avril by surprise with its mischievousness. ‘I’ve saved this one till last,’ she declared, ‘because this is really something. I just wanted you to see what else was on offer first, then you’ll probably have a better understanding of why …’ Her grin widened. ‘Well, come and see for yourself.’

  Though the mid-afternoon air was damp, and the sky overhead was grey, it wasn’t particularly cold as they stepped out onto the wide leafy street that Avril knew for a fact belonged to the infinitely more exclusive Belgravia, rather than Pimlico. Not that she had a problem with that – home or office, addresses didn’t come any smarter than those owned by the Grosvenor Estates. She looked up at the four-storey, double-fronted house that had obviously once been a seriously fancy single residence to somebody famous, though who the chap was, mentioned on the blue circular plaque over the front door, she didn’t have the faintest idea. She’d put money on it, though, that he hadn’t been responsible for the massive plate-glass windows that turned the entire first floor into a veritable fish tank. Apart from that, the house was like any other on the street, all white stucco and wrought-iron balconies, shiny black railings with gold fleur-de-lys tips and the traditional casement windows. Very upmarket. Suicidally expensive.

  ‘Ah, Carla,’ the agent puffed, trotting along from her car where she’d been waiting. ‘And Avril. Shall we go in?’

  The look that Carla tossed Avril was one of such childlike intrigue that
Avril decided to ask nothing, and just let this be the surprise Carla obviously intended.

  And boy, what a surprise it was!

  ‘My God!’ Avril murmured, as they stepped over the threshold into an entrance hall that spread the entire width of the double-fronted house, and swelled out to the back wall in a perfect half-moon shape. It was so unexpected, and unusual, that it, and everything around it, was hard to take in.

  ‘Start up there,’ Carla advised, pointing to the Italianate ceiling that was two storeys above them and boasted the kind of fresco a Renaissance master must have inspired. Avril saw now the reason for the massive windows across the front of the house, to shed light not only on the fresco, but on the extremely spacious hall they were standing in.

  ‘Now the balcony,’ Carla said.

  Obediently Avril stared at the gently curving gantry that ran along the wall opposite the large windows and overlooked the hall. It was reached by a cantilever staircase with its exquisite filigree banisters that rose from either end of the hall to form a perfect, flat-topped arch over it. She could see that two doors opened off the balcony, and three more opened off the hall, right in front of them.

  She looked at Carla. Words were failing her. Behind Carla, Jeannie, the estate agent, with her scruffy little bun and Aquascutum raincoat, was beaming encouragement.

  ‘Words fail me,’ Avril said, stating her case.

  Carla laughed. ‘The same happened to me the first time I saw it,’ she said. ‘But wait,’ and taking off across the black and white tiled hall she opened the middle of the three doors. ‘Right,’ she said, turning back. ‘Now, imagine this. Here, in the hall, we have enough room for eight, possibly ten, desks. OK? And in here,’ she continued, throwing an arm through the open door behind her, ‘we have a kitchen. And here,’ she was now indicating the door to the right of her, ‘we have what used to be known as a boot room, but is now a cloakroom complete with toilet and shower. And on the other side we have a meeting-cum-viewing room.’

  Avril was blinking.

  Carla moved into the centre of the hall, grabbed Avril’s arm and pulled her up to the balcony. ‘In here,’ she said, throwing open the first door, ‘we have the master bedroom and en suite bathroom. As you can see it’s huge, and the carpets are practically new. The room next door is a bit smaller, but has its own bathroom too.’

  Avril was blinking faster. ‘I’m not getting this,’ she said. ‘Desks, kitchen, boot room, bedrooms.’

  Carla’s eyes were dancing. ‘It’s going to mean living over the shop,’ she said, ‘but I thought … No, listen … I thought we could use downstairs as an office, and up here as two independent studio flats. You could have this one, which is the biggest, and Eddie and I can have the one next door. And guess what! There’s a small garden off the kitchen, which can also be for Eddie.’

  ‘Oh, thank goodness for that,’ Avril cried faintly, ‘I thought for one awful minute you’d forgotten him.’

  Carla laughed. ‘Don’t you think it’s fantastic!’ she cried.

  Avril’s eyes were round. ‘Fantastic? I’ve never seen anywhere more fan-fucking-tastic in my life. I take it you’ve already signed the lease.’

  Carla grimaced. ‘Ah, well. There’s the rub. It’s a bit, um, expensive. But!’

  ‘I’m listening,’ Avril assured her.

  ‘I thought this was something we could do together. Jeannie’s already checked with the landlords to see if it’s all right for us to use it as a twin-purpose premises, and they’ve agreed in principle, but they want more details on exactly who we are and what we intend to do.’

  In the hall below Jeannie was nodding vigorously.

  ‘So, what I was thinking was that you could run your London operations from here, and I can start up a production office, and when we’re in town we’ve always got somewhere to stay. We can put locks on each of the bedroom doors, to make them entirely independent, and …’

  ‘It works!’ Avril cut in. ‘You don’t have to sell it to me any further. I just want to know how much.’

  Carla put up her hands defensively. ‘It’s a lot,’ she warned. ‘But, great news, British Airways have actually bought the series now, for their in-flight systems, thanks to you, and there are a couple of international deals that are looking really positive. Plus, once we get some real financing going for the next series … Well, I can pay my way. Not yet, maybe. But soon. And we can just add up how much I owe you and when I’m in a position …’

  Avril was walking away. ‘Do I speak to the Duke of Westminster himself?’ she said to Jeannie. ‘Do you have his number? I want to get this in the bag now.’

  ‘Oh yes, yes, yes, yes!’ Carla cried, with a twirl of triumph. ‘I knew you’d love it. I knew it was going to work.’

  ‘What about furniture?’ Avril said, taking out her mobile phone.

  ‘I can get mine out of storage,’ Carla answered. ‘And we can go shopping for yours.’

  ‘What about the desks etc?’

  ‘I’ve still got the stuff from Soho, and the rest we could rent …’

  ‘Leave it to me,’ Avril said, punching in a number. The connection was made quickly, and she was put straight through to Lyle Coates, her business manager, who was based in Studio City, Los Angeles. ‘Lyle?’ she said, starting to grin. ‘We’re movin’ and a-groovin’, so I want you over here as soon as you can make it. Call Hans and have him come too. That’s right, we’re about to make our official expansion into Europe. What? Sure, I know it’s about time, which is why I want you over here … OK, just let me know when to expect you.’ She rang off, then turned to Jeannie: ‘The Duke?’

  ‘Well, it’s not actually His Grace himself one speaks to,’ she responded. ‘And I think I’d better talk to his agents first …’

  ‘Do what you have to,’ Avril replied looking up at the ceiling. ‘What’s above?’

  ‘Two more flats,’ Carla answered.

  ‘Access?’

  Carla looked at Jeannie.

  ‘Around the side,’ Jeannie told them. ‘Doesn’t interfere with this part of the house at all.’

  ‘Right,’ Avril said. ‘Will someone please now tell me how much the rent on this place is?’

  Carla squirmed.

  Jeannie turned pale.

  ‘Oh, that much,’ Avril said. Then prompting, ‘Fifteen thousand a month?’

  Carla shook her head.

  ‘Twenty?’

  ‘No. No. Less.’

  ‘Eighteen.’

  ‘No, less than fifteen.’

  ‘Twelve?’

  Carla nodded. ‘And five hundred,’ she added.

  ‘Eleven’s our top dollar,’ Avril told Jeannie. ‘So offer ten.’

  ‘I’m afraid we’re talking about pounds,’ Jeannie said.

  ‘Just coining a phrase,’ Avril explained. ‘So, when can we move in?’

  Jeannie was still reeling from the speed at which all this was happening.

  Carla answered for her. ‘Once we’ve agreed terms, straight away,’ she said.

  ‘OK,’ Avril decided. ‘Seems we’re about done here, then. Jeannie knows where to get hold of us, and I think we’ve got a man to go and watch on TV.’

  Ten minutes later they were back in the Mercedes, making slow progress through the early evening traffic. Like Jeannie, Carla was still feeling the after-effects of Avril’s lightning decision, whereas Avril was already on the phone to somebody else, discussing something else entirely, as though it, and only it, was of significance in the world. She was amazing, an absolute powerhouse of energy, with a quickness and acuity of mind that was like a whirlwind sweeping through the caution and procrastination of the mere mortals around her. It was no wonder she was so successful for she wasn’t only gifted in her field, she was also blessed with the kind of courage most other people only ever dreamed of possessing. In fact, Carla probably hadn’t realized just how successful she actually was until she’d seen her in action these past two weeks, and watching the way people sat
up when she walked in a room, took notice whenever she spoke and virtually fell over themselves to please her, had been an extremely eye-opening experience. And now, because of Avril, there probably wasn’t a person in the country who didn’t know that a ‘brand new travel programme with a difference’ called There and Beyond, was being aired at eight o’clock on Monday night. How, Carla wondered, would she ever have done it without her?

  After taking several calls herself, she turned to look out of the window. The temperature had dropped like a stone in the last half an hour, and the way the early evening commuters were hunched into their scarves and coats as they scurried around Sloane Square towards the tube almost made her shiver. She watched the leaves, scudding about the gutters, then looked up at all the familiar buildings as they turned into Sloane Street and began heading towards Knightsbridge. Not for the first time in the past two weeks she felt her heartbeat quicken as she wondered where, in this sprawling metropolis, Richard and Chrissie might now live. Though she and Richard were in touch virtually every day, she still hadn’t asked, nor would she, for she never knew when the temptation to see him might overwhelm her.

  Watching the exclusive streets and houses, garden squares and expensive boutiques pass by, she felt the stirring inside her that told her he was probably thinking about her right now, and trying to imagine where she was too. Her heart turned over, with sadness, happiness and not a little unease, for the strange reality of what was happening between them was in essence no reality at all. What did he really want from her, she wondered. Where did he think this was going? Was he really trying to find a way through for them, or was it all just a cruel and manipulative mind game? But no, she had only to think of his email that morning to know that wasn’t the case. ‘Nothing is as strong,’ he had said, ‘or matters as much, as the connection between us. It makes our lives as they are now, mere deviations from a far bigger journey, and proves that time, in its prosaic concept, is unable to separate two halves of the same spirit.’