I couldn’t imagine giving up acting. I said so and Cora smiled.
‘Life sometimes takes us down unexpected paths,’ she said. ‘Audrey discovered she loved teaching. So did I, in fact.’
‘You never missed performing?’ I asked.
Cora’s eyes misted over for a second.
‘At first,’ she admitted. ‘But I had a baby to look after, and that kept me very busy. It wasn’t easy doing everything on my own.’
Of course. I’d not put two and two together when she’d spoken about Donnie before but suddenly I realised she must have been pregnant with Natasha’s mum at the end of the war.
‘Donnie left you when you were pregnant?’ I said, aghast at the thought.
Cora nodded briskly.
‘He did,’ she said, pouring herself more coffee. ‘But we got along without him.’
She looked at me over the top of her mug.
‘So I know about agents,’ she said. ‘Even the very best ones – the brilliant ones, even, like my Mr Warner – are out for whatever they can get. This Babs might know what’s best for her coffers, but does she know what’s best for you?’
She had a point.
‘I keep thinking maybe I could just give it a go,’ I said. ‘Go along with Babs’s plans, get back with Matty. I miss acting, Cora. I’m an actress – even if I’ve not been doing much acting recently – and Babs seems to think if I can stay in the public eye, then I’ll get more auditions for serious acting jobs. So I can do all that, and if it doesn’t work out with Matty, then so what? By then I’ll be in Downton or Mr Selfridge or a pilot for a US drama. I’ll have got what I needed and no harm done.’
Cora nodded.
‘That’s good; you’re thinking practically,’ she said. ‘I’ve found it’s better to be ruled by your head and not your heart. There’s less chance of being caught out that way.’
I smiled at her, relieved she understood the way my mind was working on this issue.
‘That’s it exactly,’ I said. ‘Except there’s a tiny problem.’
Cora looked questioning.
I took a breath.
‘Patrick,’ I muttered.
‘What about him?’
‘Well,’ I said. ‘We’ve been spending a lot of time together. Rehearsing and watching old movies. He’s really funny, you know. And clever – he’s so clever. And I just like hanging out with him. Being with him …’
Cora tutted.
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ she said. ‘You’ve bloody well fallen for him.’
‘Cora,’ I wailed. ‘I didn’t mean to. What am I going to do?’
‘Does he feel the same way?’
‘No,’ I said glumly. ‘I think he could have done, right at the beginning, but I was very adamant I didn’t want him to think of me like that.’
Cora tutted again.
‘He treats me like his sister,’ I explained. ‘He’s always wrestling me and getting me in a headlock. One day he’s going to scrub his knuckles on my head and call me buddy, I swear.’
‘Then you need to get over him,’ Cora said. ‘If it’s not happening, so be it. Move on. Move back to Matty, if you want. Find someone new. Don’t put your life on hold for a man.’
‘Is that what you did?’ I said softly. ‘Put your life on hold for Donnie?’
Cora looked cross and for a second I thought she wouldn’t answer. Then she looked past my shoulder, into the garden and I could see she was thinking about the question.
‘In a way,’ she said, ‘I suppose I did. But I wasn’t waiting for him to come back – I knew he wouldn’t do that. It was more that I’d been burned. I’d not had any doubts about him. Not one single misgiving. Audrey was sceptical at first, because she’d seen how badly her mum was treated by her dad, but Donnie had even won her over by the day we were supposed to get married.’
‘So you didn’t trust yourself?’ I said.
Cora nodded.
‘If I’d misjudged him so badly, then maybe I’d do it again,’ she said. ‘And of course I had Ginny to think about. I couldn’t get mixed up with the wrong man again. So it was easier to stay away.’
I reached across the table and took her hand.
‘We can find out what happened to him,’ I said. ‘Patrick’s a massive history geek. He’s desperate to find Donnie for you and he’s already started looking at some US Army records. Maybe we can track him down – he could even still be alive – and you can confront him. You could get some closure.’
‘That’s a horrible American word,’ Cora grumbled.
‘Do you want us to find him, Cora?’
She gripped my fingers tightly but she didn’t answer.
‘Cora,’ I said again. ‘Do you want us to look for Donnie?’
When she finally spoke, it was so quiet I had to strain to hear her.
‘Yes, please,’ she whispered. ‘Find Donnie.’
Chapter Thirty-Four
‘So now we know his name, and his rank and everything, it should be a piece of cake to track him down,’ Patrick said.
I handed him the piece of paper on which Cora had written Private Donald Jackson, 22nd Armored Division and he nodded.
‘They were a liberating division,’ he said.
I stared at him blankly.
‘They were some of the troops that served in northern Europe right at the end of the war,’ Patrick explained patiently. ‘They liberated the concentration camps, some of them. They must have seen some dreadful things.’
I peered over his shoulder at the screen, but there were just rows and rows of names and I couldn’t make head nor tail of it.
‘Urgh, it’ll take ages to go through all this,’ I said. ‘We’ll never find him.’
Patrick grinned at me.
‘I love this stuff,’ he said. ‘If he’s there, I’ll find him.’
He shut the laptop with a snap.
‘But for now, we have to learn how to Charleston.’
I bounced up and down in excitement.
‘This is the dance I’ve been waiting for,’ I told him. ‘I can’t wait.’
We were dancing to a song from Bugsy Malone, which I was thrilled about.
‘This was the first play I ever did,’ I told Patrick, as he played the music. ‘It was the one that gave me the acting bug.’
‘And now you’ve got the dancing bug, too,’ he said.
I certainly had. I’d never imagined enjoying Strictly Stars Dancing as much as I did, but I loved everything about it and I was so excited about dancing the Charleston, which struck me as a very actor-y sort of a dance.
‘You should be good at this one,’ Patrick said. ‘It’s very showy.’
I gave him a whack on his arm.
‘What are you saying about me?’ I laughed. I was trying very hard to keep things normal between us, despite the fact that every time he touched me – which was quite a lot considering we were dancing together all day every day – it was like little electric shocks fizzed their way all over my whole body. Matty had never given me electric shocks – unless you counted the time he tried to get his toast out of the toaster with a fork and blew it up. I was pretty shocked that day and electricity was involved …
‘Concentrate Amy,’ Patrick said.
I giggled.
‘Sorry, boss,’ I said. ‘Let’s start at the beginning.’
All week our rehearsals went brilliantly. I picked up the steps so easily it was like I was a different person from the clumsy, clumpy girl who’d started the cha-cha on the wrong foot all those weeks ago. We were in the zone, in tune with each other, in harmony with the music and generally having a ball.
A couple of days before the live show, I was lying on the studio floor, exhausted, after another lively practice session when I had an idea.
‘I’m going to get my hair cut,’ I said, sitting up.
‘Good story, bro,’ Patrick said. ‘Tell me another just like it.’
I stuck my tongue out at him.
&n
bsp; ‘Oh, ha bloody ha,’ I said. I pulled my long locks up off my neck and held them out. ‘I need to get my extensions taken out anyway, and all this hair belongs to the old Amy. I need a new style.’
‘Right,’ Patrick said, without much interest.
‘I’m going to go now,’ I said, pulling my phone out. ‘Francesca will fit me in, no problem. Meet me after and we can do some more Donnie stuff, right?’
‘Okay, bossy,’ Patrick said. ‘Where do you want to meet?’
‘Horse and Hounds?’ I said, naming a local pub that did great food and was always friendly.
I kissed him goodbye, carefully making sure my lips didn’t actually make contact with his skin, and raced off to find Francesca.
‘Oh. My. God,’ I said, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
Francesca looked horrified.
‘You don’t like it?’
I turned my head left and right, checking out my new look. I’d sat down in the chair with long dark hair, in tumbling waves. It was partly my own and partly my very expensive extensions. Francesca had taken out the extensions, lopped off the rest, and I now had a choppy, chin-length bob with blonde highlights. I was fairly petite with a small face and delicate features and I suddenly realised my old hair had dwarfed me. Now my eyes looked huge, and everything seemed more in proportion.
‘I bloody love it,’ I said. She looked relieved.
‘Well, thank God for that,’ she said.
I paid her the eye-watering amount she charged – worth every penny in my opinion – and went to meet Patrick. I spotted him outside the pub on his phone, and darted across the road to catch him.
He ended his call when he saw me and grabbed both my hands.
‘Wow!’ he said. ‘You look so different.’
He spread my arms wide and leaned back, studying me. I beamed at him, trying not to think about how pleased I was that he liked my new look.
‘Gorgeous,’ he said, nodding. ‘And so right for the Charleston.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘Let’s hope it’s lucky.’
Over tapas, Patrick filled me in on what he’d found out about Donnie so far.
‘I’ve found his war record,’ he said. ‘So we know he existed.’
‘Of course he existed,’ I said.
Patrick grinned.
‘He could have told Cora a fake name,’ he pointed out. ‘If he was that much of a rat.’
‘‘Spose,’ I said. ‘But at least we know he was who he said he was.’
He pulled up the page on his phone and zoomed in to show me. It was just a list of names, but about halfway down was the name Donald Jackson.
‘I’ve submitted a request to get his record,’ Patrick went on. ‘It doesn’t normally take very long – a week at the most, I reckon.’
‘A week?’ I was disappointed. ‘Oh, I thought we’d be able to find it straightaway.’
‘Might be faster,’ Patrick said. ‘Sometimes it comes back within a few hours, but sometimes it’s days. Depends how many requests they’ve got at the time, I expect.’
‘Fair enough,’ I said. ‘I just really want Cora to know what happened to him. Maybe he’s still alive and she can find out why he left the way he did.’
I popped a garlic prawn into my mouth.
‘It’s really affected her,’ I said. ‘Being abandoned the way she was – left pregnant and heartbroken. She’s very cynical about romance.’
‘Not surprised,’ Patrick said.
‘She thinks I should get back with Matty,’ I admitted. ‘She says it’s the practical thing to do.’
Patrick looked horrified.
‘Really?’
‘She’s got a point,’ I said. ‘Babs reckons being with Matty will keep my profile high, so I can get some auditions for things I want to do.’
‘You’re a really good actress, Amy,’ Patrick said. ‘Surely any agent worth her salt can get you auditions without you having to saddle yourself with that loser?
I shrugged.
‘Apparently not,’ I said. ‘Babs knows about this stuff, Patrick.’
‘You should be a bit firmer with her,’ he said. ‘Tell her to get you auditions or you’ll get a new agent.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, but I knew I would never be that forceful with Babs. I was firmly of the opinion that I needed her way more than she needed me.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I was having the best time. The lights were dazzling, the music loud, the audience cheering and I was enjoying every single second of dancing the Charleston in the live show. I was smiling so broadly, my cheeks ached and Patrick looked the same.
It was fun and cheeky and slick and I was so proud. I hoped Cora was watching on TV at home – she’d promised she would.
As the song came to an end, Patrick lifted me up above his head and I flung my arms out wide. And the audience erupted. Whooping, cheering, standing up. It was incredible. The judges were on their feet, too, I realised.
Patrick lowered me carefully to my feet and I threw my arms round him and hugged him tightly.
‘Fabulous,’ he said. ‘Well done. Well done. Well done.’
I looked up at him. His face was flushed, his blond hair slightly scruffy, and his eyes shining. He stared at me and for a moment I couldn’t hear the crowd any more – all I could hear was my heart pounding and a sort of rushing in my ears. Patrick bent his head and I thought he was going to kiss me. I tilted my head upwards, my lips parted and …
‘Come on you two,’ said Melissa. ‘Let’s hear what the judges have to say.’
Abruptly the spell was broken. Dazed, I looked round at the cheering crowd and grinned as I saw how wildly they were still clapping.
‘I want to do it again,’ I told the presenter.
She laughed.
‘Well, let’s hope you don’t have to,’ she said, taking my arm and leading me over to the judges.
They were gushing in their praise.
‘You’re an actress,’ said Frank, the head judge. ‘And tonight you also became a dancer.’
I gasped and Patrick gripped my hand tightly.
It was Justin the mean judge’s turn. He fixed me with a stern glare.
‘It was ah-may-zing,’ he said. ‘Amy, you could win this competition.’
I was flying high for the whole night. Buzzing on adrenaline and praise, I loved every second of the live show.
But in the back of my head was that moment with Patrick. That near kiss, in the middle of the dance floor. I wasn’t sure what would have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted and I wasn’t sure who’d moved closer first – had I initiated it? Or had he? I couldn’t remember. I had a horrible feeling, though, that it was all me. That I’d misinterpreted his pride at our dance for affection for me.
Later, as we all filed out of the artists’ exit at the studio and waited for our cars home, I took Patrick’s hand.
‘Patrick,’ I said. ‘Sorry about – you know – what happened earlier.’
He looked at me, his tanned face unreadable.
‘What do you mean?’ he said.
‘I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,’ I said, feeling stupid.
‘Uncomfortable?’
I looked away.
‘Sorry I nearly kissed you,’ I muttered.
Patrick stopped walking and stared at me.
‘You nearly kissed me?’ he said.
I thought I had. Was I wrong?
‘I’m just sorry,’ I said again.
‘Amy,’ Patrick said, sounding exasperated. ‘You’re …’
‘I’m what?’
He shrugged. ‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘Forget about it.’
‘Can we meet tomorrow?’ I asked him, wanting the awkwardness to be over. ‘Maybe you’ll have some news about Donnie?’
He opened his mouth to respond just as someone called his name – it was Sarah-Lou, the children’s TV presenter. She came bounding over, her bunches bouncing.
‘Share a car, Pat?�
�� she squeaked. ‘As we’re going the same way.’
Pat? Seriously? And how did she know which way he was going.
‘Actually, we were just …’ I began. But Patrick was already hoisting his bag up his shoulder and moving away.
‘Sure,’ he said to Sarah-Lou. He followed her to the waiting car and glanced at me over his shoulder.
‘I can’t tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I’ve already got plans.’
He slammed the car door shut and I was left staring after its red tail lights.
Oh, well, I thought as I got into my car. I could have a quiet day tomorrow, catch up on some TV, perhaps clean the flat. Potter around and do my own thing. It would be lovely and I’d try very hard not to think about Patrick. Or the kiss that might not have been a kiss after all. And I definitely wouldn’t think about the fact that perky Miss Presenter obviously wanted to get her mitts on him.
To begin with, my Sunday went to plan. I slept in late, I had a shower and put on some more fake tan – I was growing quite fond of my ballroom-dancer-orange skin. Then just as I was wondering what to do next, Phil rang and invited me to meet him and Bertie for brunch and I accepted eagerly.
We met in the restaurant at the Covent Garden Hotel. It was quiet and there were often a few recognisable people in there, so I knew, even if anyone spotted me, that they wouldn’t care.
‘Shall we have bucks fizz?’ Phil said. ‘I think we should celebrate Amy’s triumph last night.’
‘And her gorgeous new hair,’ said Bertie unexpectedly. I grinned at him. Perhaps we could be friends, after all.
‘I’m always up for celebrating,’ I said. ‘Let’s order, shall we? I’m starving all the time now I’m dancing so much.’
We chatted while we waited for our food, then Phil nipped off to the toilet as Bertie and I discussed dancing.
‘It’s the waltz next; then, if we stay in another week, we’ll do the tango after that. It sounds terrifying.’
‘Oh, no, it’s wonderful,’ he said. ‘The passion is incredible. It’s like making love through dance.’
I grimaced.
‘I just find that idea really embarrassing,’ I said, shuddering. ‘And I’m not sure there’s any passion between me and Patrick. We’re more like brother and sister.’
A Step In Time Page 16