by Susan Lewis
Matty’s eyes went down. As far as she could see it was the only way out. Not that she really approved either, but when needs must and all that. But Ellen was right, she couldn’t get it done before the wedding now, and even if she could, there wouldn’t be any hiding it from Michael.
‘His mother’s so thrilled about us getting married,’ Ellen wept. ‘She’s been so wonderful ever since she arrived. She’s been dealing with Robbie and trying to make things better there and … Oh, Matty, you’ve met her. She’s so lovely and sweet and adores Michael and Robbie so much. She told me this morning how happy she was to be getting me as a daughter. She hardly knows me, Matty, but she’s prepared to accept me … She’s even been talking about going to spend some time with Mom and Dad on the farm in Nebraska before she goes back to England. They’re all getting along so well.’ She laughed through her tears. ‘Well, you know the Irish. Dad’s taken them all out in the car now. They’ve gone down to the church to get a look at where they’re going to sit on Saturday. They’re so excited. Matty, how can I let them down? And how the hell can I put Michael through the shame of anyone knowing why we’ve called everything off? I can’t do it, Matty. I just can’t do it.’
Matty sat quietly thinking, trying to imagine what she would do were she in Ellen’s shoes. In the end she had to agree with Ellen, she couldn’t call it off, so maybe the answer was to deal with it all after the wedding.
Ellen’s eyes were steeped in pain. ‘But it’ll be like trapping him,’ she said. ‘And the deceit … I can’t do that to him either, Matty.’
Matty looked at her helplessly, for no matter how hard she tried she knew she had no more chance of coming up with the right answer than Ellen did. ‘Then I think,’ she said finally, ‘you’re going to have to talk to him now and let him make the decision whether you go ahead or not.’
Ellen blanched. ‘Oh God, no,’ she murmured, a terrible fear darkening her eyes. ‘Not now. I can’t do it now.’
‘Well, it’s either before or after,’ Matty said gently.
Ellen looked frantically around the room, a hand pressed to her head as she tried to make herself think. ‘Not today,’ she said. ‘I can’t do it today. Michelle and Cavan are arriving tonight …’ She stopped as her heart caught on the thought of Michelle.
‘Tell me they’re not staying here,’ Matty said.
Ellen shook her head. ‘Vic Warren’s got a house just along the road. They’re staying with him.’ Her face suddenly showed all the torment she was feeling inside. ‘It’s where Michael’s supposed to be staying on Friday night,’ she added brokenly.
Matty inhaled deeply and wished to God she knew what to say.
‘I’d better get rid of it,’ Ellen said.
Matty looked at her in amazement.
‘The test,’ Ellen said, getting up from the bed. ‘I’d better throw it away.’
Matty followed her into the bathroom. ‘Where are you going to put it?’ she asked.
Ellen looked at her helplessly. ‘I don’t know,’ she answered.
Matty held out her hand. ‘I’ll see to it,’ she said.
Ellen handed it over, then turned to splash cold water on her face. ‘I’m meeting everyone at Ed Debevick’s in half an hour,’ she said. ‘You know, the diner where the staff sing and dance on the tables.’
‘I used to be one of the staff,’ Matty reminded her.
Ellen nodded absently. ‘We’re eating there before we go to the airport for Michelle,’ she said. ‘Michael’s meeting us there.’ Her face started to crumple. ‘How am I going to face him?’
‘You’ll do it,’ Matty said firmly.
Ellen looked anything but convinced.
‘You’ll do it because you love him and because you have to,’ Matty told her. ‘Now come on, dry your face, brush your hair and I’ll come down to Ed’s with you.’
Sandy, lying quietly in Robbie’ bed, had heard every word of Ellen and Matty’s conversation. It seemed that the intercom Michael thought he’d turned off had somehow managed to switch to two-way transmission.
For a long time after their cars had left the drive Sandy lay where she was, stunned, not only by what she had heard, but by the fact that she had heard it at all. It was so utterly beyond belief that she could hardly take it in. Yet the fortuitousness of it, as well as everything it meant, was already working so fast in her mind she could barely keep up with it.
There was no doubt now that she had the means to put an end to the wedding, and were it not for the fact that she actually felt sorry for Ellen, she might have laughed out loud. Instead she made do with a smile and marvelled again at the way fate had delivered the solution right into her lap when she’d all but given up hope of ever finding one. Indeed, all those attempts at poisoning Michael’s mind against Ellen, the lies, the deceit, even the self-delusion now seemed so pathetic in light of what life itself had cooked up. So it just went to prove, if something was meant to be, life would most assuredly deliver.
Her eyes closed as a surge of euphoria welled up from her heart. It wasn’t until she got up from the bed and a dizzy spell overtook her that she remembered she was ill. But whether it was the sleep that had helped her, or this earth-shattering piece of providence, she had no idea. All she knew was that she no longer felt even half as bad as she had when Michael dropped her off, and now she could hardly wait for him to come back.
Or maybe now wasn’t the time to tell him. She couldn’t say why she felt that, except her instincts seemed to be warning her not to act too hastily. There were five days between now and the wedding … She stopped at the sudden notion of standing up in church as the priest asked if anyone knew of just cause or impediment, and announcing Ellen’s secret to the world. Her heart started to race. The very idea of it was so shocking and dramatic that she seriously doubted she had the courage to do it. But it certainly had its appeal, and after giving all her other options some thought she might find herself right back at this one, so she wasn’t discarding it yet.
She soon realized that there were any number of different ways she could play this, but after giving them all a quick run-through, trying out her words, second-guessing reactions, trying to foresee the outcomes, she still wasn’t convinced she’d hit on the right one yet. Then quite suddenly the perfect answer presented itself with such ease and certitude that not even a trace of doubt shadowed its formation. It was so obvious and so simple she was surprised it had taken her this long to get there, which only went to show that she probably wasn’t over her small bout of flu after all.
Looking at her watch she wondered if she’d catch Tom at the hotel before he went to have drinks with the director, Vic Warren. Not that she had any intention of breaking the news on the phone, but maybe he’d be free later, for dinner. The very idea of spending another evening with Tom was exciting enough, without the added bonus of what might come after.
Chambers’s expression was unreadable, which, for some bizarre reason, seemed to be making him even more attractive. And the anger she sensed in him, which she knew was directed at her, was increasing his appeal no end.
They were in the garden of the Four Seasons hotel, two cocktails on the table in front of them, and the occasional stroller passing by. The evening sun was dazzling, which gave her a good excuse to mask her failing nerve with sunglasses. This was an extremely delicate manoeuvre, trying to get him to break the news of Ellen’s pregnancy to Michael, she just hoped to God it wasn’t going to backfire.
When at last he spoke, his words did nothing to reassure her. ‘I want you to forget everything you overheard,’ he said, ‘and I don’t want you ever to mention it again, not even to me.’
‘But what if it’s your child?’ Sandy protested. ‘Surely you’d want to know that.’
His eyes became discomfitingly intense, and for a weirdly horrible moment she got the impression he was seeing a lot more than just her face.
‘Do you want Michael to bring up your child thinking it’s his?’ she persisted. ‘W
ould you really do that to him? Or to the child? Surely it has the right to know its own father.’
‘Listen to me,’ he said, speaking in a way that made her cheeks heat up, ‘if Ellen says that baby is Michael’s then it’s Michael’s.’ His eyes were boring into hers. ‘Do you understand what I’m saying? Are you getting the message?’
‘Yes, but are you?’
A bitter smile crossed his lips. ‘Oh, I’m getting it all right,’ he answered. ‘I’m getting it loud and clear.’
Brushing past that, she said, ‘If you won’t speak to Michael then I think you should at least speak to Ellen. It might help her to know you’re prepared to stand by her … I mean, if she needs it. After all, this is a terrible thing she’s going through, and she obviously cares about you or she’d never have slept with you.’
He looked away for a moment, and sensing she might be making some headway with this line of approach she pressed on.
‘I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and if you ask me she’s more serious about you than she’s letting on. You’re an attractive man, Tom, I can completely understand why Ellen did what she did. But unlike Ellen I’m not about to marry Michael, and nor would I if I were carrying another man’s child.’
His face turned hard again. ‘We don’t know that for certain.’
‘But surely the doubt alone should be enough to postpone the wedding – at least until the whole thing can be settled. And think about it, it’s a pretty rotten thing to do to a man, marry him when you don’t know if the child you’re carrying is his or not. Come to that, it’s not a particularly pleasant thing to do to you. Not that I’m blaming her, she’s obviously in such a state she doesn’t know what to do, which is why, if you talked to her, it might at least help her come to a decision.’
There was a long and difficult silence, until finally Sandy put a hand on his and said, ‘I know this can’t be easy for you, and believe me …’ She stopped as he suddenly got to his feet.
‘Have the waiter put the drinks on my tab,’ he said, and throwing a five-dollar bill on the table to cover the tip he walked back inside the hotel. To call Ellen? Sandy wondered, or Michael?
Chapter 13
THE ORGANIST WAS playing Handel’s organ concerto No. 4 as the wedding guests filed into the Church of the Good Shepherd on Santa Monica Boulevard in Beverly Hills. Already sixty or more were gathered, many dipping their fingers in holy water and crossing themselves as they bowed towards the altar before moving into the pews. Outside the entertainment press was gathering, reporters and camera crews eager to grab as many celebrities as they could before they disappeared inside the church. Fashion correspondents and gossip columnists were out in force too, for there were as many designer creations floating up the wide brick steps as there were potentials for rumour and speculation.
It was a beautiful hot June day; the sky was crystal clear and the luscious green of the palms stood out vividly against the blue of the heavens. Cars were filling up the surrounding streets and as the clock ticked towards twelve the bride and groom’s closest friends and relatives began to arrive.
Ellen’s and Michael’s mothers came together, chauffeured in a long black limousine and escorted by Vic Warren and Craig Everett. The rest of the McCann Paull agents were in the limo behind: Sandy, Zelda, Harry, Janey, Diana and a couple of assistants. Soon after Michael’s sister, Colleen, and her husband Dan arrived, with their two sons, Charlie and Ben. Their five-year-old daughter, Tierney, was back at the house with Ellen, realizing all her wildest dreams as she showed off her cream taffeta bridesmaid’s dress and headband of small white flowers. There was a quick flurry of activity from the press as they learned who the chic raven-haired woman and her family were, then suddenly all attention was focused on another black limousine that was pulling up at the kerb.
As he stepped out Michael was laughing, and made a comic show of trying to protect himself from the sudden thrust of cameras and microphones. Cavan, who was so like his older brother there could be no mistaking who he was, watched in fascination and tried not to laugh at the way their mother was scowling from the door of the church. It was reminiscent of the days they’d hung back from bedtime, or started messing about with the other kids when they’d been told to come inside.
Though they and the ushers were all dressed in long black tailcoats and charcoal grey trousers, Michael’s was the only blue cravat and grey Paisley waistcoat. The others wore lemon cravats and burgundy waistcoats. As Tom was amongst the ushers he was suitably attired, and was busy showing Ellen’s friends and family to their seats as Michael and Cavan made their way in behind them.
The irony of being chosen to take care of Ellen’s side wasn’t lost on Tom, but he showed only humour and consideration as he went about his duties. From where she was sitting in the sixth row of Michael’s side he could feel Sandy’s eyes watching him, but he studiously avoided them until the moment Michael stopped halfway up the aisle to exchange some good-natured banter before moving on to the front. That was when Tom finally looked at Sandy, then turned away.
He knew she didn’t understand why he was letting this happen; he knew too that she’d wanted him to confront either Ellen or Michael, so that no blame or bad feeling would attach itself to her as it often did to a messenger. But she stood about as much chance of manipulating him like that as she did of Michael actually dumping Ellen for her. No-one had ever told him about her crush on Michael, but as it was as obvious as her methods of flirtation, which, in their way, he found kind of amusing, no-one had had to.
‘Hey Tom,’ he heard someone behind him call, and he turned to find a couple of old photographer friends he hadn’t been aware Michael knew, sliding into one of the back rows. He waved out, then glancing at his watch he saw that it was already a couple of minutes past the time Ellen was due to arrive. But that was OK, it was traditional for the bride to be late, and besides, not all the guests were seated yet.
At the front of the church Michael glanced at his watch too. Next to him Cavan, looking like a rock star with his long hair and three-day beard, started to grin.
‘I reckon she’s going to stand you up,’ he teased, and immediately flinched as his mother clipped him round the ear.
‘Don’t be making jokes in church,’ she whispered loudly.
Michael was laughing. ‘Great hat, Ma,’ he told her.
‘She said no jokes,’ Cavan reminded him, and promptly received another swift clout.
‘Uncle Michael, can I have a ride on your shoulders?’ his nephew Ben wanted to know.
‘Since when did you ride shoulders in church?’ his mother demanded.
Ben looked up at her in confusion, his little three-year-old face a virtual replica of her own. ‘Is Tierney wearing that silly dress today?’ he asked.
‘You know she is,’ Colleen answered. ‘And it’s not silly, it’s lovely.’
‘It’s silly isn’t it Dad?’ he said, turning to his father. ‘You said it was silly.’
‘I said it was pretty,’ he corrected hastily as his wife turned her flashing blue eyes upon him.
‘Is this our family?’ Cavan whispered to Michael.
‘We could be at the wrong wedding,’ Michael responded.
‘You could be right,’ Cavan said. ‘It would account for Ellen not being here.’
Though Michael kept smiling his insides were tensing up. She was almost ten minutes late by now. He cast his mind back to the night before, when he’d left her at the house to go and stay at Vic Warren’s. She’d seemed fine then. Distracted, it was true, but with all that was going on around her, and so much to think about, it was hardly surprising. And when he’d called later to tell her he loved her, she’d cried and told him how much she loved him too. She’d even said she couldn’t wait for tomorrow to be over – presumably because she was looking forward to them being alone together at last. But maybe that wasn’t what she’d meant.
Resisting the urge to look at his watch again, he felt himself turn cold as the o
rganist restarted the pre-wedding repertoire and behind him the guests continued to murmur. He didn’t even want to think about what they were saying, for they too must be starting to wonder what was happening. Maybe Robbie had kicked up a fuss, refusing to be a page, or to get into the car. But Michelle was with him, and if need be she’d surely tell Ellen to go on ahead while she stayed back to deal with Robbie. Then suddenly his blood turned to ice. Michelle! What if he’d misjudged her? What if she hadn’t accepted that it was never going to work for them, and had decided to tell Ellen what had happened between them? Jesus Christ almighty, that was it! For some unknown reason Michelle had got it into her head to choose today, of all days, to ruin his life.
He glanced at Cavan, but there was no way he could voice his fears to his brother, not when Cavan was so crazy about Michelle – it would tear the boy to pieces to find out she still wanted Michael. And he had to stop thinking of Cavan as a boy. He was twenty-three now – fifteen years younger than Michelle, and ten years younger than Michael, but that still didn’t make him a boy. He thought of the time, six years ago, when he and Cavan had spent five long weeks sailing the high seas while he, Michael, had tried to come to terms with the way Michelle had left him. She’d been pregnant with Robbie, but her work, her vocation as she’d called it, had still come first. Never, not even in his worst nightmares, had he dreamt that he would go through that kind of hell again. It had taken him so long to get over it that not until he met Ellen had he even started believing he could.
Sandy glanced at Tom who was now sitting beside her. He was looking straight ahead, his hands clasped loosely in his lap. He showed no signs of tension, but he had to be wondering where Ellen was – unless he already knew. Somehow she didn’t think so, for he surely wouldn’t be letting Michael go through this agonizing wait if he’d known that Ellen wasn’t going to show. Or maybe he would. He was so damned inscrutable there was just no knowing what he might do.