by Susan Lewis
Robbie turned to his father, and though Michael met his gaze the possibility of losing this child, whom he loved more than his own life, was tearing him apart so badly that he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on.
‘Mummy has to go back to Pakistan for a while,’ he said, repeating what Michelle had already told him. ‘But after, in a few weeks, if you decide you want to live with her, she and Uncle Cavan will fly back here to get you and take you to live in London. You’ll be near Gran and Auntie Colleen and all your cousins.’
‘Can’t you come too?’ he said.
Michael shook his head, then followed Robbie’s eyes to Spot as the shaggy little black bundle shifted and groaned. He hadn’t asked about the dog yet, probably just assumed that wherever he went the dog would go too. The truth of it was, though, that at any time now it was likely to be just Michael and Spot in this great big house, for Britain’s quarantine laws would prevent Robbie taking his beloved pet with him.
‘I want to go to sleep now,’ Robbie said abruptly, and snuggling down into his sheet he put an arm around Spot and buried his face.
Michelle’s eyes came up to Michael, then without saying any more they quietly left the room.
‘He’s too young to make this decision,’ Michelle whispered after closing the door behind them.
‘I know,’ Michael answered, ‘but what else can we do?’
Michelle looked blindly out at the lamplit garden and pool. Her heart was almost exploding with the need to beg him to make a go of it. She could come here and he could continue with World Wide. That way they could be the family Robbie wanted. It was what she wanted too, more than anything else, but with the way things stood between Michael and Ellen she knew that now wasn’t the time to discuss it. In truth there would probably never be a time, because despite the terrible dilemma he and Ellen were now facing, in her heart Michelle knew that he was never again going to feel the same way about her that he once had.
Turning to look at him, she smiled and gave his hand a quick squeeze, before starting back to the sitting-room.
Michael followed and went to the bar to fix them a drink, while Michelle sat down with Cavan and Clodagh.
‘We’ve left it with him,’ Michelle said, slipping a hand into Cavan’s.
Clodagh looked over at Michael and felt his pain clawing into her heart. This had to be harder on him than he was ever going to admit, and she blamed herself for the way he was unable to share it. She wished to God she knew what had happened between him and Ellen. Whatever it was, he obviously didn’t want to discuss it and until he did she knew she was never going to get this break-up to make sense. One minute they were the happiest couple alive, living it up at the wedding of the year, the next they were back from honeymoon, separated and barely speaking. What on earth could have gone so wrong in such a short space of time?
‘Here you are,’ he said, passing her a small brandy.
Taking it, she looked over at Michelle whose head was resting on Cavan’s shoulder. She’d always cared for Michelle, ever since she’d come into Michael’s life; it was taking some getting used to seeing her with Cavan though, especially with the difference in their ages. Not that it was any of Clodagh’s business, but she would dearly love to see Michelle and Michael back together, if only for the sake of their son. She was a realist, however, so knew that wasn’t going to happen, not even in the face of this mysterious rift.
‘Aren’t you having one?’ Clodagh said, as Michael handed drinks to Cavan and Michelle.
He shook his head. ‘No, I’m going to take a shower, then I’ve got some reading to do before I go into the office tomorrow.’
Knowing that meant he wanted to be alone, Clodagh squeezed his hand as he kissed her, then listened for the door closing behind him. When it did, she looked at Michelle.
‘I know he’s confided in you what happened between him and Ellen,’ she said, ‘and I’m not going to ask you to break his trust, but is there nothing you can do to make any of this any easier for him?’
Michelle swallowed hard. ‘I swear to you, Clodagh,’ she said, ‘if I could, I would.’
Clodagh’s face seemed to collapse, and looking down at her brandy she felt her son’s despair as though it were her own.
‘It’s good you’re staying on, Ma,’ Cavan said, recognizing her need to help. ‘If nothing else he’s going to want you here for Robbie – at least until Robbie decides what he’s going to do.’
After taking a shower Michael towelled himself dry, searched out some clean shorts and resisted the urge to call Ellen. He had nothing to say to her, he guessed he just wanted to hear her voice, but he could live without it. Somewhere, deep down inside, he knew he was still angry, but he had it in much better control now and imagined it would stay that way, just as long as he didn’t have to spend too much time around his mother whose kindness and concern were driving him nuts. Still, he’d have to get used to it, as Michelle and Cavan, the buffers, were leaving tomorrow, so with Lucina having made an abrupt return to Mexico, it was going to be just him, Clodagh and Robbie for a while.
Feeling bad at his resentment towards his mother, he was almost tempted to go back out there, but knowing he was too on edge to deal with much else today, he stayed where he was.
From a different emotional perspective, losing Robbie was going to be every bit as bad as losing Ellen, and with it coming at the same time he had to accept that he was going to be dealing with the most difficult time he would probably ever have to face. Nothing was going to make it easy, but not for the first time in his life a sixth sense was telling him he was handling it all wrong. But no matter which way he looked at the problems, he just couldn’t figure out a way that felt right.
Knowing he was in danger of going round and round in circles if he didn’t at least try to focus on something else for a while, he took a stack of contracts from his briefcase and got into bed. As there was no particular urgency attached to them, nor any real need for his scrutiny, it wasn’t long before he found himself reaching for the latest scenes Tom had given him for Rachel’s Story – scenes Tom and Ellen had worked on prior to the wedding.
Knowing that the child Ellen was carrying had very probably been conceived along with these scenes wasn’t exactly helping him give them a fair reading, and as they contained some tender moments between Rachel and Tom, it was proving about as pleasurable as a kick in the face. However, he had determined to go on with the movie, for far too many people had put their trust in him for him to let them down now and as it was a project he had believed in from the start, he wasn’t prepared to let his personal feelings get in the way.
With Vic Warren about to take over the script, there was no reason for Ellen to remain involved, and when he and Tom had met the day before Tom had shown no signs of insisting. In fact, Ellen had hardly been mentioned, and certainly the baby hadn’t, for as far as Michael was aware Tom didn’t even know, and he had no intention of being the one to tell him. Nevertheless, their meeting had been strained and awkward: the unspoken fact that Tom had slept with Ellen was right there between them.
Obviously, it would help matters considerably if Ellen were to resign, though it certainly wasn’t what Michael wanted, even if it was causing him problems seeing her every day in the office. That was going to get harder once her pregnancy started to show, and God only knew what the press were going to do then, as they were bad enough now with their sly innuendos, ludicrous speculation and blatant untruths. But that was something they would have to deal with when the time came – for now all that mattered was getting the movie ready to shoot and watching his back every minute of the day in readiness for Ted Forgon’s knife.
He had a meeting scheduled with Forgon at the end of the week. It would be the first time they’d talked, privately at least, since Forgon had raised the flag of his comeback. He didn’t imagine the meeting would be pleasant, few dealings with Forgon ever were, but there was no way of avoiding it, and in some ways he was actually looking for
ward to it. After all, Forgon now had what he wanted, Michael McCann in his power, and it was going to be interesting to find out exactly how the old man was planning to finish him.
Hearing Michelle and Cavan climb the stairs to the guest suite above, he turned out his own light and lay in the darkness. The intensity with which he missed Ellen was cruel, but he knew even if she were there he would be unable to hold her, or make love to her, or deceive himself even for a minute that the child was his. Michelle had been as shocked as he was when he’d confided in her, had felt guilty and responsible and desperately sorry for Ellen. He wondered if she’d told Cavan, but doubted it, as the entire truth would entail confessing her own part in the betrayal. Were it not for the fact that he still loved Ellen so much, he knew it would have been very easy for him to turn to Michelle right now, for he had felt much closer to her lately than he had to anyone else. Indeed his admiration and love for her had grown considerably these past few days for the way she’d coped, not just with Robbie and the break-up of his marriage, but with the fact that she was no longer going to play the part of Rachel. As far as he knew no-one had ever told her that her casting was in jeopardy, so the decision not to play Rachel had been entirely hers. Having seen what problems it had caused already with her being here, she had judged it in everyone’s best interests for her to withdraw. It was a truly noble gesture, and one that was very typical of her.
Rearranging his pillows, he put his hands behind his head and stared out at the moon. He doubted he would sleep much, he hadn’t since Ellen had gone. God only knew how much worse it was going to be if Robbie went too, and he ached for the decision his son’s little five-year-old heart was having to reach. No child should be forced to choose between his parents, but neither he nor Michelle had seen any way round it. He had to know that they both loved and wanted him, that whatever he decided was fine by them.
It was around two in the morning when he heard his bedroom door creak open. Sitting up he saw Robbie standing in the moonlight, Spot right behind him, and not for the first time Michael realized that if his son knew there was a chance he’d have to leave his precious dog then he would almost undoubtedly stay.
‘Hey there,’ Michael whispered, ‘couldn’t you sleep?’
‘Can I come in with you, Dad?’ he asked.
‘Sure, come on.’
Michael flipped back the covers and gave him a hand up onto the bed. Spot waited for an invitation, but when none was forthcoming he hopped up anyway.
The three of them lay quietly for a while, Robbie’s head on his father’s shoulder, his hand idly toying with Spot’s ears.
‘Daddy?’ he said after a while.
‘Yes?’
‘Did Ellen go because of me?’
‘No,’ Michael answered, hugging him. ‘It had nothing to do with you, I promise.’
‘Then why did she go?’
Michael inhaled deeply. ‘It’s kind of hard to explain,’ he said.
‘Will she come back?’
Michael’s throat was suddenly tight. ‘I don’t know,’ he said.
Robbie turned his head and gazed up into Michael’s shadowy face. ‘I want to stay here with you, Daddy,’ he said.
Michael’s eyes closed and he had to swallow hard before he could speak. Even then he found he couldn’t, so he just held his son close and thanked God that, for the moment at least, this was one loss he didn’t have to endure.
Chapter 16
THEY’D BEEN BACK from honeymoon for just over a week and already pre-production for Rachel’s Story had gone into top gear, with casting, crewing, costume design and set-building all well under way, and provisional shoot dates being discussed for September. Nothing had yet been mentioned, or apparently changed, regarding Ellen’s role as executive producer, but she sensed it soon would be. She knew through Maggie that Michael had spoken to Tom a couple of days after they’d returned from Barbados, but she had yet to learn what decisions had been reached. If Michael was still expecting her to resign, he was giving no sign of it, nor was there anything to suggest that he was backing out either. But, just in case, she was starting to wind down her role, and was concentrating more now on World Wide’s other projects. Not that she was happy about that, in fact it was proving a terrible wrench letting go of the movie, but since Michael had so much more invested in it than she did, it only seemed right that she should be the one to give way.
She’d left the office early today, for a doctor’s appointment at the medical centre in Santa Monica. Just before leaving she’d run into Michael, which hadn’t been easy, but though she knew he was finding it every bit as difficult as she was, so far they seemed to be dealing with it surprisingly well. At least on the surface they were, but it was still early days so there was no knowing how long they could keep this up. Considering the news she’d received today, it was probably going to be a lot easier for her than it was for him.
‘Hey, what’s all this?’ Matty cried, coming in the door of the apartment and finding herself assailed by the delicious aroma of something cooking. ‘Candles, soft music, fancy napkins. Are you expecting someone?’
Ellen smiled, and ground more pepper into the pan. ‘Just you.’
‘Mmm, what’s cooking? It smells so good.’
‘Shrimp with garlic, ginger and soy sauce.’
‘My God, it’s my birthday and I forgot,’ Matty declared.
Ellen laughed and passed her a glass of wine.
‘What is all this?’ Matty said, confused. ‘I mean not that I don’t appreciate it, you can cook for me any time, but I am not looking at the same woman I left at the crack of dawn this morning.’
‘You are looking,’ Ellen declared, ‘at a woman who is pregnant by the man she is married to.’
Matty stared at her in blank amazement. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘You’ve lost me. Is there some new miracle predictor or something that I never heard of, because I could swear you were in a state of total ambiguity when I left here this morning.’
‘I was,’ Ellen confirmed, ‘but no longer am. And no, there’s no miracle diviner, just the tried and trusty old calendar.’
Matty blinked. ‘Humour me,’ she said.
Ellen turned back to the stove, whisked the pan from the heat and emptied the shrimp into a serving dish.
‘Just a minute,’ Matty said excitedly, ‘you were going to see the doctor today, right?’
Ellen grinned.
‘So?’
‘So, I am thirteen weeks pregnant.’
Matty’s face dropped in astonishment, then suddenly she too was grinning like the proverbial Cheshire cat. ‘You’re kidding me,’ she said. ‘No you’re not, you wouldn’t over something like this. Oh my God, Ellen. Oh my God, this is so wonderful. Did you tell Michael yet? Oh God, I can’t believe … But hang on, how come you got it so wrong? I mean, you’re not even showing and thirteen weeks is a lot.’
‘I am showing – a bit,’ Ellen protested.
‘But did you miss a period? You must have known if you missed a period?’
‘Yeah, I think I did miss one, but there was so much going on, with the build-up to the wedding, things being as crazy as they always are at the office, and everything else, I just didn’t notice. Then, after what happened with Tom,’ she shrugged, ‘I jumped to conclusions and got it wonderfully, fantastically and mercifully wrong. This is Michael’s baby. Michael’s and mine.’
‘Oh Ellen,’ Matty murmured, embracing her. ‘This is just such wonderful news. I’m so happy for you I could cry. I guess you didn’t tell Michael yet, or you wouldn’t still be here.’
‘No, I didn’t tell him yet,’ Ellen confirmed, and, having strained the rice, she picked up the loaded tray and carried it out to the veranda. ‘I hope it’s OK with you that we eat right away,’ she said. ‘I’m famished and as I’ve hardly eaten this past month I just couldn’t wait.’
‘Fine by me,’ Matty said, sliding into a chair and putting her wine down. ‘It’ll be a relief to see you g
etting fatter, instead of thinner, given your condition.’
Ellen smiled. ‘So did you have a good day?’ she asked. ‘Did those script changes work out?’
Matty sighed. ‘Selling a script change to Dorothy the Dictator is like selling contraception to the Pope,’ she responded. ‘But we don’t want to talk about that, it’ll get sorted one way or another, and as it doesn’t rate too well alongside global warming, world famine, or holy wars, I can’t even claim it has any importance. Whereas your news does. OK, not in a Save the Planet sense, but definitely in a save the marriage sense. So when are you planning on telling Michael?’
Ellen was chewing a mouthful of food so it was a moment before she answered. ‘I’m not,’ she said when she was able.
Matty’s shrimp remained in mid-air. ‘Excuse me, did I just hear you say you’re not?’ she said.
Ellen nodded and carried on eating.
‘Well you can’t just leave it there,’ Matty protested.
Ellen looked over the railing as someone splashed into the pool below. ‘I’m not telling him,’ she said.
‘But you have to. I mean, surely you want to …’
She waited, but Ellen merely shook her head.
‘OK, there’s obviously something here that I’m not getting,’ Matty said. ‘Why the hell wouldn’t you want to tell him? You do want him back, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do,’ Ellen replied. ‘I just don’t want him back this way.’
Matty shook her head, then rubbed her eyes as though she was having a hard time understanding. ‘You’re really making me work here,’ she said, ‘and it’s been a long day, so could you just give me this straight?’
Ellen ate some more shrimp, then putting down her fork she sat back in her chair and looked out at the softly darkening sky. ‘I don’t know if I can explain,’ she finally answered. ‘I guess it’s just instinct. It doesn’t feel right to tell him now, so I’m not going to.’ She turned back and looked at Matty. ‘I love him,’ she said, ‘and I want him more than anything, but I can’t forget the way he was prepared to let me go through this alone. OK, I know he was hurting too, that he was probably reacting to shock, and given time he might have come round. Well, I guess I’m going to give him that time, because if he really loves me and wants me too, then he’ll find a way of working things out for us. Besides, even if I were to tell him now, I don’t think he’s ready to forgive me yet.’