by Maggie Brown
She extricated herself tactfully from the conversation as quickly as she could, and walked over to the reporter. “Brie Simmons, I presume. It’s lovely to meet you.”
Brie inclined her head, though by the way she was rocking back on her heels, she was a little overwhelmed. “Umm, yes, Ms. Godwin. It’s so nice to meet you too. I’m a great fan of yours. You were wonderful in the movie.”
“Thanks for your support. Now call me Eleanor, please. You did get my message that I would like you to take a few photos of me tonight as well as covering the event? Just something intimate,” she gave a little laugh, “but not too revealing. I thought those you took of Austen were superb.”
Brie paused, emotions flittering across her face. At one stage, she looked like she was going to confess, but answered, “Thank you very much for giving me this opportunity. Umm…shall we go somewhere now?”
“Come with me. My press agent has lined up a room at the hotel. She’s set up some lighting as well. You have your gear?”
“It’s behind the bar. I won’t be a minute.”
As Eleanor watched her weave her way through the crowd, she felt a little sorry for her. She must be worried about the shoot for Sophie’s photographs had set the bar very high. Hopefully, if Anita had supplied them with enough lighting props, the shots wouldn’t be too bad.
“Follow me to the lift,” she said when Brie appeared with a black camera bag on her shoulder.
On the tenth floor, Eleanor slipped in the card and the door snapped open. It was a sumptuous suite. In the corner of the very spacious lounge, Anita had set up a small photographic studio, with a muted grey backdrop behind a chair, with two lamps either side. A bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and two glasses stood on a side table.
“This is perfect,” exclaimed Brie.
“Sit down. We both need to relax before we start. Let’s have a drink first.” Eleanor popped the cork, catching the first gush of fizz in a flute. She filled it up, passed it to Brie and poured herself one. “I’d like to hear all about your life as a journalist.”
“I’m actually the Globe’s social reporter.”
“So you’re an old hand at these sorts of things. You like the glitz and the glamour?”
“Oh yes. I adore fashion and the razzle-dazzle that goes with it.”
Eleanor studied the reporter. How amazing that she was Sophie’s best friend. They couldn’t be less alike. “Are you the only one assigned to the social pages?”
“There are two of us. I’m the senior one.”
“Personally, I don’t like the limelight much.”
“Really? But you have such style.”
Eleanor gave an elegant roll of her shoulder. “I have to. It goes with the territory. As soon as I’m home out of the public view, I chill out in a tracksuit. I’ve just been on a long holiday on an island in the Whitsundays, where there was no one to bother me. It was fantastic.”
Brie twirled her glass dropping her head. “That sounds perfect.”
“It was. I had a very efficient woman looking after me.” Eleanor took a sip as she watched Brie closely over the rim. Her eyes were wide with alarm. Good, she’s rattled…time to start digging. “I read that piece about the politician in your paper. It was a darn good editorial. No wonder it launched an investigation.”
Brie nodded dumbly.
“It’s all over the news now. Who was the reporter?” asked Eleanor, forcing herself to sound casual.
“Ummm…Sophie Marsh.”
“Ah…Sophie. That was the name of my companion on the island. Maybe I should get Ms. Marsh to write up a few words to accompany your photos.”
Brie took a swallow of her drink then exclaimed, “No… No.”
“You don’t think she’d do it?”
“She resigned from the paper after that piece,” Brie said, clearly upset.
Eleanor’s stomach gave a lurch. Sophie had thrown in her job. After taking a moment to calm, she touched Brie lightly on the arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was so distressing or I wouldn’t have brought it up. You’re obviously very fond of her.”
“She’s my best friend. I don’t know what got into her. She had a bit of a meltdown then bang…she was gone.”
“Did she say why?”
“Something happened in her last assignment. She never said what though.”
“Where was it?”
Brie slid her eyes away from Eleanor’s gaze. “Up north. I’m sorry. You don’t want to hear all this. I don’t actually know why I’m telling you.”
“I think you needed to get it off your chest. Sometimes it helps to talk to a stranger. Is your friend coping now?” Eleanor persisted.
“I hope so. She went home to her parents’ for a while to sort herself out.”
“Then I imagine she’s in good hands. The best advice I can offer is to just be there for her.”
“We’ve persuaded her to go out for a drink Friday night. That should cheer her up.”
Eleanor put her glass on the tray. “Now, we’d better get on with this photography session or we’ll never get back to the party. I’ll introduce you to my agent when we get back. She loves fashion too.”
For the next half hour while she posed, regret and frustration continued to swirl in Eleanor’s thoughts. The news of Sophie had thrown her. One thing was clear. She needed to see her to put things right. And stuff pride. She would get on her hands and knees if it were warranted. Unfortunately, the following Monday to Friday would be taken up with the next movie’s obligations—now she was back from holidays her life wasn’t her own once more. She’d have to see her sometime next weekend. But there had to be a plan. She’d toyed with the idea of ringing her, but if Sophie refused to see her, she’d be stymied.
It shouldn’t take too much to find out her parents’ address, but she couldn’t just lob up to the front door of her family home and ask for Sophie. If she weren’t so well known, it would be fine, but she could imagine the kerfuffle if she just appeared on their doorstep. Completely inappropriate. It was the price of fame.
The best bet would be to find where Brie was taking her on Friday evening. She’d fly up to Brisbane and Blade could organize a get-together with a few of their old friends. Hopefully, it was the bar where the Facebook photo was taken. She’d have to take a punt on it. If it wasn’t, it was a night out with friends. But it would mean she’d have to think of an alternative ploy. Brie would think it too odd if she mentioned Sophie again—she’d pushed her a little far as it was.
“That should do it, Eleanor,” said Brie. “I’ve taken more than enough to make it an exciting portfolio. You’re extremely photogenic.”
“You’ve finished?” asked Eleanor, slipping back into focus.
“Yes. And thank you very much for this opportunity. It’ll be a great boost for the Globe. I’ll send the pictures over for your approval before we publish them. I did a comprehensive coverage of the red-carpet parade and the ceremony as well.”
“I’d appreciate that, Brie. Not that I particularly enjoy seeing my face in print, but my press secretary does and she’s the boss.”
Brie laughed. “Beauty and clothes sell papers. But throw in sex and you’ve got a real winner.”
“Unfortunately I can’t supply you with any tidbits there,” Eleanor murmured. “Not yet anyway. Now let’s adjourn to the party.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Now that Sophie’s exposé had become a hot topic nationwide, the Marsh household sat glued every night to the evening news. Even her brother, Danny, who had no interest in politics. Fortescue was now under the pump for a “please explain,” and it was predicted he’d be forced to resign in a few weeks—they always had to in the end. Having been interviewed on several current affairs shows, Sophie had reached celebrity status with her relations. But now they crowded her too much. Her wish for a quiet time at home was totally thwarted and she was more depressed than ever.
When Brie rang from the airport with the news that
Eleanor had given her an exclusive photo shoot of the premiere in Sydney the night before, Sophie felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. She held her temper in check as Brie described the night in detail: the stunning clothes, the celebrities, the glitzy after-party, how fabulous Eleanor had been in the film and how gracious she had been to her. After the call finished, Sophie slammed the phone down the table.
“Damn you Ellie. You don’t give a stuff about anyone but yourself,” she screamed and strode to the computer. It was time, past time, that she left all this rubbish behind her. She opened Google, typed in great holiday destinations for backpackers and began to browse. By the time her mother arrived home, she had her top five prospective sites, as well as a casserole in the oven.
Valeria opened the oven door with an appreciative sniff. “That smells delicious. I’m glad to see you’re feeling like your old self again, dear.”
Sophie grunted but didn’t comment.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, I’m just …”
Her words were cut off by Danny calling out, “The news is on.” With resignation, she followed her mother into the lounge.
Her father gave her a thumbs-up as an embattled Fortescue appeared on the screen, but Sophie sat back subdued. She was beginning to feel sorry for the man. For misusing a few thousand dollars, his career had gone down the toilet. His inefficiency as a minister had nothing to do with his demise.
She was about to get up when Eleanor suddenly flashed on. In a spectacular clinging dress, she was walking up the red carpet in Sydney.
“What a hot babe,” snickered Danny and Sophie gritted her teeth.
“Don’t be a moron,” she snapped. “Eleanor isn’t a sex object for a puerile ignoramus who couldn’t tell class even if he fell over it.”
“What bee’s up your butt?”
“Grow up.”
“Ha! Me grow up. Look at you…loosen up a bit. You’re getting to be a boring grouch.”
“Quiet,” called out her father firmly. “We’re here to watch the news.”
Sophie sat back brooding through Eleanor’s interview. As much as it was too painful to watch, she couldn’t turn away. All the feelings of love rushed back explosively. Eleanor was so overwhelmingly alluring…so irresistible. When the weather report came on and her image disappeared, Sophie felt the wrench right to the tip of her toes. She turned to find her mother studying her closely.
With an effort, she leaped to her feet with a cheery, “I’ll set the table.” Her head downcast, she hurried into the kitchen.
* * *
Friday hadn’t come too soon for Sophie. She needed to get out, to get away from the confines of her family. For all their good intentions, they had become suffocating. Not that it was their fault. Sophie had been by herself too long, become too independent to go back to living with her parents for any length of time.
So she had made her decision. Her birthday party was tomorrow night. She had booked a plane to Bangkok next Tuesday to begin her six-week backpacking tour of Southeast Asia. After that, she’d consider the job offers she’d received—the article had opened up a host of opportunities from various publications. She was “hot property” in the journalism world now. But for all that, she was the unhappiest she ever been in her life.
It had taken all week to gather courage to go to the bar tonight, for the time had come to announce her sexuality to her friends. To get into the spirit of things, she decided to wear her old low black leather pants, a deep blue silk shirt and her black leather boots. The pants were a remnant of her first year at university when she passed briefly through an anti-establishment phase. They’d been packed away and forgotten. While she was rummaging through her old cupboard, she was surprised to find her mother hadn’t thrown them out.
It took some manoeuvring, but she finally managed to wriggle into them. Ten years on, a few more kilos had settled comfortably on her bottom. She pulled on the shirt, undid the top two buttons and posed in front of the mirror. Well that looks the part. After careful attention to her hair, she applied a touch of makeup.
Her mother raised her eyebrows as she emerged from her room when the taxi arrived, but merely murmured, “Have a good time, dear.”
As she sped through the streets, Sophie’s resolve began to wane. What if the girls were angry—judgmental—dismissive? She had pushed away all doubt by the time the cab pulled up outside the entrance. She couldn’t back out—it was now or never.
The room was nearly full and she noted there were quite a few interested looks from both men and women as she slipped through to their usual booth. Her four friends were already seated, quietly chatting.
As she approached, Brie’s eyes widened as she raked them over the skintight leather pants. With a bright smile Sophie slid into the seat, though she knew the look on her friend’s face. It smacked of disapproval. Brie, despite her professed liberalism, was ultra-conservative.
“Hi everyone,” Sophie said. “It’s great to see you all again.”
Vera leaned over to give her a soft warm kiss on the cheek. “We’ve missed you, Soph. My word, the break away from the city did you a world of good. You look great, leaner and so tanned.”
“I like the pants,” chuckled Alice. “Trying to get laid tonight?”
“I thought it was about time I changed my image,” replied Sophie, ignoring Brie’s frown. “Now I’m going to get a drink. Anyone want one?”
“We’ve a bottle of champagne in the ice bucket waiting for you,” said Janet. “We want to toast your birthday.”
Sophie smiled her appreciation as the cork popped. A glass of champers was the ideal fortification for what she was about to reveal. “Just what the doctor ordered,” she said, twisting the stem a little nervously.
“Happy birthday,” the others said in unison.
After another glass accompanied by lively gossip, Sophie’s nerves had settled enough for her revelation. But she needed the right opportunity—she could hardly just blurt it out. Her hands trembled when Janet announced, “You’re getting mobs of attention from the guys at the bar tonight, Sophie. With that outfit, you can have your pick.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Then why did you wear those bloody awful pants,” snapped Brie.
“Not to get a man that’s for sure.”
“And why’s that Sophie? Why do you think you’re always too good for them?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Sophie could see Vera wave her hand with concern. She ignored her, knowing Vera sensed what she was going to say. “Because men don’t do anything for me, Brie. I’m a lesbian.”
“Ha!” exclaimed Alice. “I always knew there was something you weren’t telling us.”
“Good for you, girl,” said Janet. “That ex of mine is an arrogant dick. Women will treat you better.”
Vera placed a hand on Sophie’s and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve suspected it for a while. Why has it taken so long to tell us? You know it’s not going to make any difference to our friendship.”
A tear escaped down Sophie’s cheek as she gazed with affection, and relief, at Vera. Both Janet and Alice gave her encouraging smiles as well. But so far, Brie hadn’t spoken and Sophie couldn’t bring herself to look at her. If her best friend deserted her, it would be the final blow in her rock-bottom life.
Then Brie said in a disbelieving voice, “And you think you can get a woman tonight wearing those slutty pants. Anyone decent wouldn’t be seen dead with you looking like that.”
Sophie turned to her and began to giggle. Typical Brie—she didn’t care if she was gay, but she did care very much about fashion. “They are ghastly, aren’t they? I used to wear them when I was nineteen. They’re so tight I can hardly move. I…I kinda wanted to make a statement tonight.”
“Honey,” drawled Alice. “They make more than a statement, they make a map. Every bump and dip is showing.”
“But why did you take so long to tell us?” Vera persisted.
&
nbsp; “Because it would get back to my family. You know how many rellies I have.”
“Are you going to tell them?”
“I told Mum last weekend. She was great about it, but she’s not the worry. My aunt is. She’s not going to be a happy chappie.”
“Tell her to sod off,” said Brie. “When are you going to drop her the big L word?”
“There’s a family party for my birthday tomorrow night. I’m going to do it then.”
“Best of British,” said Alice. She held up the empty bottle of champagne. “This is a dead marine. Whose turn to go to the bar?”
“I’ll go,” said Sophie. “I’ll have to stretch my legs. The damn leather is pulling at my groin.”
“Here,” said Alice, pushing across a fifty-dollar note. “Our shout tonight. It’s your big three-O so you’re not buying anything.”
Sophie picked it up with a smile. “Okay…thanks.” With a much lighter step now, she walked down the bar until she found a space. The bartender was busy, which suited her. She was glad of the respite to be by herself for a while. As well, it gave the others a chance to come to terms with her news. Though she knew they’d discuss it as soon as she was out of earshot, she resisted the urge to turn to look. Even though they were so supportive, it would still take time to process it completely. It would be quite interesting to see if they mentioned it or ignored it when she got back. She hoped they wouldn’t be like her mother and try to set her up with someone.
She was idly watching the bartender make a complicated cocktail, when someone spoke next to her.
“Hi there. May I buy you a drink?”
She turned to see a spiffy executive-type gazing at her, his interest evident in his eyes. “No thanks, I’m with friends.”
“Surely I can tempt you with one.” He gave a lopsided grin, no doubt designed to make his clean-lined, almost poetic face irresistible.
She hated to burst his bubble he looked so confident. “Sorry.” She turned to the bartender who was waiting impatiently for her order. “A bottle of the Cordon Rouge champagne please.”