by Jacobs, Anna
Ten minutes to go. He sat in the waiting area, making meaningless conversation with the first guest, a female singer whose songs left him cold and whose clothes left so little to the imagination he didn’t know where to look.
Music blared forth on the set, jiggling happy music, and the guest was led away.
Pete welcomed her to the show and conducted the first interview with his usual warmth and skill, but even he found it hard to draw interesting answers out of such an airhead.
Just before the interview ended, the celebrity for the regression segment came into the waiting area. Cassadee didn’t attempt to make eye contact with Edward or even sit down, just began pacing up and down, four steps each way.
He was clearly nervous about what they’d discovered about his past. Pete had decided not to tell those appearing the details, insisting there would be no drama if the segment didn’t come up with a few surprises.
Edward was suspicious of surprises, especially in a public arena.
Soon after Cassadee left the waiting area to join Pete, the music changed to something Edward hadn’t heard before, something softer and rather wistful.
‘Who Am I?’ It was a woman doing the voiceover now. They’d chosen an older woman, for motherly reassurance. She did a quick reprise of Cassadee’s appearance on the previous week’s show, then Pete took over live.
‘We had an amazing response to last week’s segment, so we brought Cassadee straight back, instead of waiting a week or two. He doesn’t know what we’ve found out, though. Are you ready to face your past, Cassadee?’
‘I’m here, aren’t I? Bring it on.’
Beth looked at the clock. Two minutes to go. Should she watch In Focus tonight or not? It had upset her last week because of the coincidental resemblance to her brother. Oh, she was being silly! She was stupid to let mere chance get to her.
She pointed the remote at the TV and clicked, wondering if the new segment would continue to be as gripping.
She’d missed the intros but saw Pete smiling like a wolf about to pounce on a lamb.
‘We’ve found someone from your past.’
Next to him Cassadee stiffened visibly.
‘This person knew you at the age of fifteen, so will be able to verify the computer images.’
Poker-faced, Cassadee inclined his head.
Pete gestured to the side not normally used for guest entrances. ‘Folks, let’s welcome Stacey, another person who doesn’t use a surname.’
The camera turned back to Cassadee, however, instead of going to the newcomer. At the sound of the name, his mouth fell half open, then he mouthed the word, ‘Stace.’
He looked like a man in pain to Beth and not for the first time, she wondered if this segment was going to be kind to those who participated in it. It had seemed so simple when she first heard about it. Just show a computer image and get the viewers to help that person find their past. But last week, Mrs Newbury had been really upset by her son’s incorrect image – and so had Beth.
The camera stayed on Cassadee as he took a deep breath and stood up, then at last it panned to the guest.
The woman who walked on to the set looked as if she’d lived a very hard life. She could have been any age from thirty to fifty. Her clothes were clearly brand new, hanging on a body thin to emaciation, and her hair hung straight and long down her back. Even the make-up couldn’t give her a healthy look.
The camera caught the fact that her eyes filled with tears as she looked at Cassadee.
He went straight across to scoop her up into his arms and give her a long hug. ‘I can’t believe it’s you.’
‘Bad pennies always turn up again,’ she said in a slightly hoarse voice.
‘You were never a bad penny, Stace, just a lost penny.’
Pete interrupted and got them sitting down then the programme continued, but the undercurrents between Cassadee and Stacey showed in their faces and the occasional glance sideways. Once she reached out to touch him, as if she couldn’t believe he was real, and the camera was on to it. He turned his head and patted her hand briefly, then looked back at his interviewer, the guarded expression slipping back into place.
The encounter had the audience riveted, as a straightforward, happy reunion could never have done.
On being questioned, Stacey too put the accuracy of the computer image at ninety per cent. ‘It doesn’t show his eyes properly, though,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘He was always kind and that showed in his eyes. He had his own troubles, but you felt he really listened to you. Helped me out a few times, he did, when I had no one else.’
When Pete judged that enough time had been spent on Stacey, he asked Al and Debbie to take the image back to six years old, and the Cassadee on the screen lost his bony, haunted look and became a lad again, with a lad’s innocent smile.
‘We not only had Stacey contact us but a relative of yours, who knew you as a lad,’ Pete said.
Beth had already noticed that the singer’s hands were white-knuckled against his jeans. When Pete mentioned a relative, the hands spasmed then lay still.
‘Who is it?’ Cassadee asked. ‘Must be a very distant relative.’
If he’d meant to sound casual and relaxed, he’d failed, Beth thought.
Pete smiled, let the silence continue for a moment or two, then said, ‘Not so distant. It’s your Uncle Steven.’
‘What?’
Cassadee jerked to his feet as a nervous-looking older man hesitated at the edge of the stage. As the man walked towards him, Cassadee strode quickly forward and punched the newcomer hard on the jaw, sending him flying into the first row of the audience.
Ignoring the upset this caused, Cassadee moved back to Pete and Stacey, snapping, ‘Get that creature off the set or I leave. And do your research better in future. One of the reasons I left home was because of that man, who shouldn’t be allowed near any innocent child.’
The programme cut abruptly to adverts and Beth leaned back in her chair, letting out a long, slow breath. Dangerous stuff, this.
She was glad she was never likely to go on this show or be interviewed by this new, harder Pete Newbury, who smiled so calmly as he tossed emotional grenades at his guests.
When the program resumed, nothing was said about the uncle. Beth watched the interview continue, heard Cassadee talk about his youth on the streets and found it gripping stuff. Stacey sat there quietly, nodding occasionally to corroborate something.
There was a grimness behind the singer’s calm expression now, though, an added sharpness in his tone. But both men were professionals and knew better than to add to the gossip by quarrelling on live TV.
Then photos from neighbours were produced and Cassadee relaxed, smiling and fingering the photos, thanking the donors and promising to go and thank them in person.
Edward groaned and buried his face in his hands after Cassadee punched the older man, but looked up again almost at once. When the adverts came on, he hurried towards the set.
He met the young assistant, Gerry, shepherding the uncle out of the studio and apologising to him for the upset.
‘It’s all right, lad. He has good reason to be angry. I’d like to have made my peace with him before I died, though – I’ve got cancer – but there you are.’
Edward walked over to join them. ‘We’ll get you checked out by a doctor, Mr Redwich, and then—’
‘No need, son. It was only a punch. Besides . . . I deserved it.’
Something inside Edward shuddered, because if this meant what he thought, he agreed that the punch was well deserved. ‘Do you need a taxi?’
The old man paused to look at Edward as if he knew what he was thinking. ‘Yeah. That might be best.’
‘Where are you staying?’
‘With friends.’
He refused to give further details and Edward watched the taxi’s tail lights disappear, before going back into the studio.
The show’s ratings would no doubt rocket – but at the expense of others’ p
ain. Did he want to be involved in this sort of thing? No. Definitely not.
But he had no choice. His contract tied him to Pete for another six months. And anyway, Pete was his cousin. When something came unstuck, as it was bound to, there needed to be someone practical around to pick up the pieces. If only for his Aunt Sue’s sake. No one could call Pete practical.
Luckily this uncle fellow didn’t seem likely to make any claims for compensation.
When the segment ended, Edward went to the side of the set. He saw Cassadee wait till the signal was given that they were no longer on air then stand up. The singer ignored Pete’s outstretched hand, put one arm round Stacey’s shoulders and shepherded her off the set without a word of farewell.
Edward stepped out of the way but Cassadee, whom he’d met a few times, stopped to say, ‘Better pull the reins tighter on your damned cousin and get the researchers to check things out more carefully. He’s heading into danger territory.’
As if Edward wasn’t all too aware of that! ‘Will your uncle sue?’
The wolfish look was back. ‘He wouldn’t dare.’
‘He told me he had cancer, wanted to make his peace with you.’
‘There is no peace possible after what he did to me. If he’s got cancer, then I’m glad. It means there is some justice in the world.’
Cassadee looked down at the woman standing patiently beside him. He walked out of the studio with his arm still round Stacey’s shoulders, speaking gently now, the hard edge gone from his voice.
It was a moment or two before Edward returned to the waiting area, because the sight of them moved him deeply. He felt quite sure Cassadee was going to help his old friend, and equally certain she needed it desperately. So maybe some good had come out of this, after all.
The next part of the show featured a famous opera singer. Her break-up with her lover of many years had been acrimonious and had hit all the headlines. He’d trashed her home, destroying all her photos and mementoes of her youth, for which he’d been jailed. She was eager to find some photos, especially of her parents, who were dead now.
Her appeal had been filmed between performances at La Scala. The computer images showed a pretty little girl and a plump teenager.
When at last the show was over, Pete came off the set. ‘It went well, didn’t it?’
‘As long as you don’t mind hurting people.’
Pete’s smile went a bit glassy. ‘How can we be expected to predict such things. Sheer chance.’
‘Was it?’ Suddenly Edward was sure that Pete had suspected there was something amiss between Cassadee and his uncle. He could bear no more tonight, so turned and walked away.
‘Ed, come back. I want to ask you about—’
He kept walking, needed some fresh air.
As Beth was getting ready for the dinner dance on the Saturday, the doorbell rang. Muttering in annoyance, she went to check who it was on the intercom, then relaxed and let Renée in.
‘I’m going out in half an hour. Had you forgotten?’
‘Nope. I came to check that you’re looking your best.’
Beth looked at her in mingled exasperation and amusement. ‘Yes, Mummy.’
Renée grinned. ‘You know I’m better with hair than you are.’
‘I’ve washed and blow-dried it. It looks fine to me.’
Her friend stood back, studying her. ‘Good cut, that. But it needs this for a formal affair.’ She produced a small object, a jewelled hair slide. ‘Get your dress on and let me fix the hair.’
Ten minutes later Beth knew she was looking her best and smiled at her reflection. ‘You’re right. That hair slide does look good. Subtle enough for my taste, too.’
‘I know. You’re definitely not a show pony. Now look, I know there’s nothing fizzing between you and Daniel, but there will be other men there tonight. Don’t put on your untouchable expression. Smile and enjoy yourself, and if an interesting guy comes along, let nature take its course.’
‘Yes, Mummy.’
Renée hugged her suddenly. ‘You’ve been alone long enough, Beth. Life’s more fun if you have a partner.’
‘As long as it’s the right partner.’
‘I agree. All I’m saying is, don’t keep the door so tightly closed or you’ll never meet anyone, right or wrong.’
When the bell rang again, it was Daniel’s voice on the intercom.
‘I’m ready. I’ll be down in a minute,’ Beth said.
The two women took the lift and Renée said goodbye in the foyer.
‘You look beautiful,’ Daniel said to Beth.
‘I think I look my best, but we both know I’ll never be beautiful.’
‘Lovely, then. Can you accept that word?’
She hesitated then smiled. ‘Tonight, perhaps. Renée did a good job on my hair, didn’t she?’ And the outfit softened her figure, hinting at curves she no longer possessed.
With great reluctance Edward got ready to go out. He hadn’t invited a partner to the ball and wished now that he’d bothered to ask someone, because he enjoyed dancing. But he’d been snowed under since the last show, working all hours of the day to minimize the fall-out from the Cassadee interview.
The uncle had committed suicide straight after the show. The old man might have been suffering from cancer, but he could have lived for quite a while yet if he’d wanted to. Luckily the press hadn’t noticed the suicide.
Cassadee remained furious and rightly so. But with his uncle now out of the picture, he calmed down somewhat. Fortunately, he was hungry for more photographs of his younger self and they did him a whole series from the ReGress program, one for every year of his life from six years onwards. In addition, several former neighbours and family friends had unearthed real snaps of him as a child and contacted the show to offer them. More might still come in, because the incident had made headline news.
Another, briefer follow-up appearance was planned for a few weeks’ time – with Stacey also appearing, if Cassadee agreed. He seemed to have taken his former street friend under his wing and was shielding her from the press. His agent said he’d do his best to persuade the star to appear again.
When Edward arrived at the luxury hotel where the ball was to be held, he wandered over to the cocktail area, noting that Pete and Fran, whose table he was on, were not there yet. He studied the well-dressed assembly. Who did he know that he really wanted to speak to? Ah, yes. He made his way across to a small group in the corner, not letting anyone trap him into conversation en route.
‘Hi, Daniel. How are things?’
Daniel and his partner both turned round. To Edward’s astonishment he recognized the woman standing next to his old friend, but only just. She looked like a different person from the exhausted cleaner he’d escorted out to her car all those weeks ago.
‘Let me introduce you.’
‘Beth and I have met already. How are you?’ He took her hand and awareness shimmered between them before she pulled hers back hastily. They stared at one another for a moment and he could tell she was as surprised by this reaction as he was. In fact, he was so surprised that he struggled for words and she was the first to break the silence.
‘I’m well, thank you, Edward.’
‘You look a lot better. You were absolutely exhausted last time I saw you.’
‘The flu epidemic’s over, so I’m not working as hard.’
Daniel turned to Beth. ‘Perhaps you could teach Edward how to slow down a bit. He’s been working such long hours this year, it’s a wonder he even has time to look in the mirror at himself, let alone make new friends. His cousin Pete is a slave driver.’
‘Someone has to keep the man out of mischief,’ Edward said mildly.
‘I wonder if you’ll manage to do that with that new segment. Everyone’s talking about the Cassadee incident. Is that uncle he punched going to prosecute him for assault?’
‘The old guy’s out of the picture, committed suicide soon afterwards. He had cancer, apparently. You have to w
onder how he dared go on the show. That caused enough talk. I’m just relieved the press didn’t pick up on the suicide as well.’
Hope springs eternal, Beth thought. It had sustained her for years.
‘There’s Pete now.’ Daniel nodded towards the door.
Edward raised one hand in greeting to his cousin and his wife, but people moved quickly towards the two celebrities, presumably eager to discuss the incident on the show, so he stayed where he was and let Pete come to him.
The gong sounded for them to take their places for dinner before Pete got even halfway across the room. He was lapping up the publicity, no doubt about it. So was Fran. If you didn’t know better, you’d think they were a loving couple.
But Edward did know better, had seen them quarrel only too often. He walked from the reception room into the dining and dancing area with Daniel and Beth, noting that they made no attempt to touch one another or hold hands. Daniel turned up to functions like this with various attractive women but never seemed to stick with one or show signs of a sexual connection. Perhaps he wasn’t the marrying type?
And was Beth divorced? She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
As he stopped beside his chair, Edward wondered why he’d even bothered to check her hand. He wasn’t looking for a relationship with anyone at the moment.
That was another thing he’d have to think about once his life slowed down a bit: finding a life partner. Older women wouldn’t be as set on having children, so he might get a happier outcome, stepchildren, even. Life could get a bit too lonely sometimes, even when you were busy.
He glanced back across the room and saw Beth talking animatedly to her neighbour at the table. She had a lovely smile and scrubbed up well. Elegant was the word he’d use to describe her tonight. Why was she doing an extra job cleaning? Surely she could find something better than that for herself?
Maybe he’d ask her for a dance later. He felt sure Daniel wouldn’t mind.
The function was very well organized and the food tempted Beth to eat more than usual, though she put her hand across her wine glass when the waiter tried to refill it. ‘Could I have a fizzy mineral water instead?’
‘Certainly, madam.’