by Susan Lewis
‘I take it it’s Maurice’s funeral,’ he said, when Sandy finally clicked off.
She nodded and turned to gaze at the passing shops and pubs. ‘I’m going to miss him,’ she said. ‘More than I ever missed my own father, wherever he might be now.’
Craig glanced at her and started to slow for a red light. ‘Do you ever think about looking for him?’ he said.
Sandy’s laugh was more of a scoff. ‘What, so’s he can scrounge off me too, the way the rest of them do?’ she said, not prepared to admit, even to Craig, that her father was in prison. ‘No, I was just thinking, not having Maurice to turn to is going to be a bit like trying to swim the Channel with no backup boat. I might drown.’
Craig looked at her in surprise. ‘It’s not like you to doubt yourself,’ he commented.
Sandy laughed. ‘I doubt myself all the time,’ she told him, ‘I just try not to show it.’ She allowed a few seconds to pass, then said, ‘Promise not to tell anyone, but I’m nervous about seeing Michael tomorrow.’
Craig frowned. ‘For any reason?’ he asked. ‘I mean, you’re not normally – are you?’
‘A bit. But more today. I suppose because Maurice has gone and I’m feeling much more vulnerable without him than I’d ever imagined I would. You know, just in case anything goes wrong.’
Craig was incredulous. ‘What on earth can go wrong?’ he cried. ‘You said it yourself at the meeting just now, things couldn’t be going better, and since Michael’s got the best part of everything he owns invested in World Wide, including his share of McCann Paull, he’s likely to start offering you obeisance when he finds out what you managed to get from Deightons. So I can’t see what you’ve got to feel nervous about. Besides, you don’t know what Maurice might have left you in his will.’
‘Nothing,’ Sandy informed him. ‘We talked about it before he died. He gave me enough in his lifetime and I truly didn’t want to spend the next however many years fighting it out in the courts with his children. So we agreed. He gave me the apartment and my success. I did very well.’
‘Do his family know you’re going to be at the funeral?’ Craig asked.
She shook her head. ‘I’ll just do the movie-star bit, you know, low-profile background, soak up all the scorn, lower my hat brim, look tragic, then leave the way I came – alone.’
Craig was grinning, but when he looked at her he was concerned to see that she didn’t seem to be joking. For a moment her eyes met his, and there was still no smile when she looked away.
‘Are you all right?’ he said, speeding up to overtake a bus. ‘Maybe this has hit you harder than I realized.’
‘I think it has,’ she said, swallowing hard.
‘Listen, if you want me to come in with you,’ he said, ‘I can always call Guy and reschedule.’
‘No, it’s OK. I’m just feeling sorry for myself. I’ll get over it.’
They drove on in silence, passing the brewery in Chiswick where roadworks held them up for a while, then turning at the Hogarth Roundabout towards Mortlake. It was unlike Sandy to be depressed, or quiet, and Craig wasn’t entirely sure how to handle it.
‘When are you actually seeing Michael?’ he asked, for want of anything else to say.
Sandy felt her heart contract. ‘Tomorrow night,’ she answered. ‘We’re having dinner.’ She began to rummage in her bag and said something Craig didn’t catch.
‘Sorry?’ he said.
‘I said, it’ll be the first time I’ve been on a date since I left the escort business.’
To his dismay Craig was once again stuck for words, since he didn’t imagine for one minute that Michael was viewing tomorrow night as a date.
After a while Sandy gave a dry, empty laugh. ‘I don’t suppose you’re the person to ask if there’s something wrong with me,’ she said. ‘Anyway, there must be if nobody’s asked me out in all this time. Not that there’s been anyone I’ve particularly fancied, but well, you know …’ She glanced at him, then looked out at the barren trees and flat, colourless acres that stretched south of Chiswick. ‘It’s a horrible feeling finding out that you can’t get a date the way everyone else gets one. You know, the normal route of someone asking you out because they want to get to know you better. Or even because they want to screw you. Seems the only way I can get someone is to be paid for it. Like a whore. Well, that’s what I was, I suppose. At least sometimes. I didn’t always sleep with them.’ She took a breath. ‘Michael’s the only man I’ve slept with since coming to London who I didn’t meet through the escort business.’
‘You’re always working, that’s why you never meet anyone,’ Craig insisted.
A few minutes ticked by.
‘I’ve tried to get over him,’ Sandy said, her eyes still averted. ‘But what do you do when in your heart you just know someone is right for you? I mean, I can’t help feeling that way, can I? It’s not something I asked for, it just happened. And it certainly doesn’t make me happy, especially not when he’s over there in LA with another woman who he’s planning to marry in a couple of months. Things are better between us now, though. We get on well together. I think he actually likes me, which is a definite improvement on the way he felt when he fired me.’ She turned to Craig as he stopped at a pedestrian crossing. ‘What would you do if you were me?’
‘In what way?’ he asked awkwardly.
Sandy turned away and sighed. ‘Never mind,’ she said.
Neither of them spoke again until they were pulling up outside the cemetery.
‘Are you OK for getting back?’ Craig asked.
‘Stacy’s already booked me a cab,’ she answered, flicking up the sun-visor after checking her make-up. She smiled briefly. ‘Sorry if I burdened you with my problems.’
‘No burden,’ he said. ‘We’re friends. It’s just sometimes I don’t know if I’m the right one to advise you.’
‘Where Michael’s concerned I don’t think anyone can,’ she confessed. ‘I mean, it’s not something I understand myself, the way I feel about him, so how can I expect anyone else to?’
Craig looked at her and thought how young and sometimes painfully naïve she still was, despite her success. She had so many qualities, and leadership was definitely amongst them, yet where Michael was concerned she was like a whole other person.
Seeing her bite her lip and realizing it was probably nerves about going to this funeral, he reached out for her hand and gave it a squeeze. He could only admire her for the courage it was taking to go in there now, and in his heart he felt the ache of her loneliness. With Maurice dying and Michael about to get married, he could easily imagine how bewildered and at sea she was feeling, probably even more than she realized.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?’ he said.
She nodded. ‘Sure. But thanks for offering.’
He tightened his hold on her hand. ‘I’m going to be honest with you,’ he said gently. ‘Aside from the work issue, I think another reason you never get asked out on a date is that you just don’t give any other man a chance.’
She turned to look at him, an amused, though slightly sad expression in her turquoise eyes. ‘Is there any other man?’ she said, and with a quick smile that only suggested she might be joking, she opened the door and got out.
Ellen ran into her office, yelled out ‘OK,’ and snatched up the phone as Maggie put the call through. ‘Matty, hi, at last,’ she cried, dumping her briefcase and shrugging off her jacket. ‘Sorry I didn’t get back to you before, but it’s so crazy here, and now with Michael flying off to England … Anyway, how are you? How did it go with Tom when he drove you home the other night?’
‘Well, we talked about you, and then about you, and then some more about you,’ Matty answered.
‘What do you mean?’ Ellen said, stopping what she was doing.
‘Oh come on,’ Matty laughed, ‘you’ve got to have noticed, the man doesn’t have eyes for anyone else. Oh, he’s polite enough, but it’s pretty plain he’d rather
be talking to you, and if he can’t talk to you, seems he’s just as happy talking about you.’
‘Matty, you’re completely wrong,’ Ellen informed her, going to the computer screen and calling up her messages. ‘The only reason he talked to you about me was that I’m all you’ve got in common right now. Didn’t you bring up about the script?’
‘Sure, and you’re doing a great job, he tells me. He really admires how professional and insightful you are and thinks, when the time comes, you should get first billing on the writer’s credit. Of course, that’s not all he wants to offer you, but we didn’t get that far. Now answer me this, how the hell do you stand to be alone with him, in the same room, and keep your hands off him? He’s so damned gorgeous.’
Ellen was laughing. ‘He and Michael are good friends,’ she reminded her cousin. ‘And whereas I grant you Tom is an extremely attractive man, I happen to be very much in love with Michael. Hang on.’ She put a hand over the mouthpiece and spoke quickly to Maggie who’d just come in the door. ‘Get the proofs over to the Four Seasons for Tom to see,’ she said, ‘and then courier a set over to England for Michael. Are they any good?’ she added, as Maggie dropped a large package on the corner of her desk.
‘Haven’t seen them,’ she answered. ‘The messenger just brought them in. Ted Forgon’s in his office. Said he’d like to see you if you’ve got a moment to pop in.’
Ellen looked at her watch. ‘I’ll try,’ she said. ‘Matty, you still there?’
‘Still here. So when’s Michael back?’
‘Friday. Great timing on Clodagh’s part to go and fall over now. I mean, this isn’t exactly my idea of fun being left alone with Michelle and Robbie. Tom joined us for dinner last night, so we reminisced about Rio and Sarajevo, at least they did and I listened. Then we talked about Pakistan and the refugee camps and all the problems the Afghan women and children are facing there right now. You can imagine how much I had to contribute to that. Then we caught up with all the gossip on their fellow let’s-risk-our-lives-to-do-good-ers. That was particularly fascinating, as I just love hearing all about people I’ve never even met and am never likely to. In the end I went to bed and left them to it. So let me put you right about something, Matty, if Tom’s got a thing for anyone round here, it’s very definitely Michelle.’
‘What about Michael’s brother? Where’s he while all this is going on?’ Matty wanted to know. ‘Aren’t he and Michelle supposed to be an item?’
‘Cavan? He’s still in Pakistan. I expect Michael’ll have to rush off to rescue him from a guerilla kidnapping or political imprisonment any time now. In fact, my money’s on the week of the wedding, what say you?’
‘Boy, you do sound stressed,’ Matty remarked. ‘What are you doing for lunch? My treat.’
‘Matty, I’d spring for champagne cocktails and three courses at the Ivy right now, given half a chance. Instead, I’ve just sent Olivia to get me a chicken burrito which I know is disgusting, but I feel like indulging myself even though I won’t have time to eat it before I go pick up Robbie to take him to the dentist. And does any kid stay in school for an entire day any more, is what I want to know?’
‘I thought the dentist was yesterday?’
‘So did I. I got it wrong. Yesterday was tetanus and whooping-cough shots. Today is the dentist. And Michelle can’t take him, because she’s got an important lunch with the charity officials, then she’s got to go shopping to buy herself something to wear for the big night. Meanwhile, Tom is helping her work on her speech, so I get an extra couple of hours back in my schedule because he can’t see me until Michelle’s speech is done and delivered. What’s more, in Michael’s absence, Tom will be escorting her to the charity gala on Thursday night while I stay at home and babysit Robbie, because it’s Lucina’s night off. I didn’t actually know that Michael was supposed to be escorting her, that was obviously something he forgot to mention. Hang on, Maggie’s back.’
‘Mark Gladley’s on the line,’ Maggie told her, ‘he said he can reschedule the screening for Tuesday week if that suits you better. He needs an answer now though.’
‘Well?’ Ellen said. ‘Does it suit me better?’
‘It could, but I’ll need to check with Ken at Glitz and Glamour,’ she said, referring to the company that was organizing the wedding. ‘And I need the diary of your dress fittings.’
‘It’s right here,’ Ellen said, delving into her briefcase and bringing out an untidy stack of notes.
‘And Michelle just called,’ Maggie continued. ‘She said to let you know that she’s sent flowers to Michael’s mother on your behalf, just in case you’d forgotten.’
Ellen’s eyes widened with amazement. Outrage was a beat behind it.
Maggie winced. ‘She also said, as she doesn’t know LA very well she’d really appreciate some company when she goes shopping this afternoon, if you can make it. I said you’d call her back.’
Ellen looked about to explode. ‘What is it with that woman?’ she seethed. ‘Call her back and tell her she’s got more cheek than a Sumo’s backside, and enough goddamned people running around after her, so the hell does she get me too. And while you’re at it, ask her if she understands that other people have schedules. Or is it that hers is so full up with worthy causes that no-one else’s counts?’
‘What about the flowers?’ Matty said down the phone. ‘You’re surely not letting her get away with that?’
‘Like hell I am!’ Ellen raged. ‘Maggie, find out which florist she used, get on to them and cancel the flowers she sent for me. Tell her I organized mine and Michael’s when I took Michael to the airport.’
‘Did you?’ Matty asked.
‘No, but she doesn’t need to know that,’ Ellen retorted. ‘I’ll just remind Michael to do it while he’s in London. With any luck he’ll manage it before Michelle’s get there.’
‘Anything else?’ Maggie enquired.
‘No,’ Ellen snapped.
Maggie exited quickly, leaving Ellen to wonder exactly what she would say to Michelle on the phone, though not really caring. ‘Do you see what I have to put up with?’ she said to Matty. ‘Now tell me I’m not overreacting here, the way Michael thinks I am. I mean, would you stand for this kind of shit?’
‘Not a chance,’ Matty assured her. ‘But I’m not about to become Michael’s wife and Robbie’s stepmother, so you’re going to have to find some way of dealing with her. Which reminds me, is everything OK between you and Robbie? He seemed kind of distant the other night.’
‘With me, not you,’ Ellen pointed out and sighed. ‘I guess it’s kind of tough having me and his mother under the same roof, and his mother is a novelty these days, whereas I’m just the one who reminds him to brush his teeth and forgets to pack his favourite cookies for lunch. The latest, this morning, is that he doesn’t want me and Michael to get married. I tell you, if she weren’t so goddamned holy and decent, I’d swear Michelle had put him up to it, but even I, who would like to see the woman on the fastest jet plane out of here, find it hard to suspect her of something like that.’
‘What did you say to Robbie?’ Matty asked.
‘What could I say? I ignored it. It was probably the wrong thing to do, but we were right outside the school gates and I was already late for a nine o’clock with the site managers at Paramount.’
‘How’s that going?’
‘OK. We could be moving the production offices over there some time in the next couple of weeks.’
‘What about you and Michael?’
‘We’re staying here. Listen, I’ve got to go. I daren’t be late for Robbie again, and Ted Forgon’s just asked me to pop in and see him.’
‘How is the old goat?’ Matty enquired.
‘Getting more active now that the statute of limitations has started its countdown,’ Ellen answered. ‘Oh my God! I’ve just had a brilliant idea. Maybe I could get him on my side over the casting of Rachel. Michael might be running the show, but Ted’s the majority shareholder, he’
s going to want an executive credit, and maybe even an executive input … I need to think about this, I’ll get back to you.’
An hour later, having performing some excellent groundwork on Ted Forgon’s ego ready for when she might need it, Ellen was leading Robbie across the schoolyard towards the car. All the other kids were back in class, ready for the afternoon session, and she was wondering if she could somehow work it for her and Robbie to take the rest of the day off and spend some time together. But with having to cover for Michael, as well as keeping up with her own hectic commitments, she was insane even to think it, for she didn’t even have time to be here now, much less to start treading the delicate path it would take to deal with Robbie.
‘Honey, don’t scuff your shoes,’ she said, as he dragged his feet round to the passenger side of the car.
Ignoring her he carried on scuffing, then flung his school bag rudely into the back before climbing in after it.
‘You going to get on your booster seat?’ she asked.
‘Don’t want to,’ he replied.
‘You’re not going to be able to see where we’re going,’ she reminded him.
He stayed silent.
‘OK, then put your seat-belt on,’ she said.
He didn’t move.
Leaning in, Ellen took the seat-belt, fastened it around him then got into the driver’s seat. ‘What did you do this morning?’ she asked, reversing the car out of its parking space.
‘Boring stuff,’ he answered.
Ellen glanced in the rearview mirror, but he was too low for her to see his face. She didn’t need to, though, she’d already seen his scowl and didn’t imagine it had disappeared. Despite her impatience her heart fluttered with misgiving, for the last thing she wanted was him to suffer the kind of confusion his behaviour was indicating.
‘Can we make friends?’ she said after a while.
No answer.
‘How about we go to the movies tonight?’ she suggested.
‘Mummy’s already taking me.’
They didn’t speak again all the way over to Sherman Oaks where the dentist had his office. And while they were there the only words Robbie addressed to her were, ‘I can do it myself,’ as she made to help him up in the chair.