‘You alright?’ Vince asked, breaking into Charley’s thoughts as she started thumbing through the pile of newspapers on the dining room table. ‘You’ve drifted off again.’
‘Hmm?’ She looked up, smiling at him, wishing more than anything that everything could just go back to normal, that Jimmy Cash hadn’t turned up like this; that she hadn’t risked everything she had with Vince – the only man she’d ever truly loved. The man to whom she owed everything. ‘No, I’m fine. Sorry, I was just thinking…’
‘So? Are you gonna be around to look after Lily while I’m dealing with everything else?’
She nodded, picking up a newspaper from the middle of the pile Vince had left on the table, mainly because something had caught her eye. A photograph. Someone she recognised, only too well. A photograph she’d seen before, because she’d been there when it had been taken. And as she pulled the newspaper out from the pile, holding it up in front of her, Charley felt her breath catch in her throat as she stared at the image there on the page. An image of herself, back in the days when she’d been Charley Miles – Queen of the porn industry. And it was then that it became evident just what Jimmy’s next move was.
Charley’s past was coming back to haunt her, and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop it.
***
‘We’re staring at another unholy mess, Martha,’ Reece sighed, sitting back in his chair by the pool of his cliff-top Malibu home, the most incredible view of the ocean stretching out in front of him. But even that couldn’t help him relax. ‘I should never have agreed to do this movie. She should never have agreed to do this movie. But I guess the pair of us were totally sucked in by the supposedly “changed” Michael Walsh.’
‘I thought he had no idea that Dominic MacDonald was his son,’ Martha said, sitting down at the table opposite Reece, placing a jug of home-made lemonade in the centre.
‘Maybe he didn’t, in the beginning. But he obviously found out at some point, didn’t he? He knew, and he kept it a secret with the sole intention of causing all this crap.’ He sighed again, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head, looking at Martha. His beautiful Martha. Every day he still thanked God that she’d chosen to be with him and his complicated, messed-up family. A lesser woman would have walked away from the amount of baggage he carried around with him. ‘And Dominic… he’s just as bad. He knew from the beginning what game he was playing, and I know he said he never meant to hurt India but she got hurt, didn’t she? She was an innocent victim in some ridiculous stand-off between father and fucking son… This is the last time, Martha. The last time she gets involved with Michael Walsh and his warped attempts at trying to win her back… Jesus, I’d thought all that was behind us. I thought she’d moved on.’
Martha leant forward, taking his hand and squeezing it gently. ‘She’s a grown woman, darling. She’s forty-three-years-old, big enough to make her own mistakes and old enough to sort them out for herself. And, right now, she’s got Kenny. He’s there for her, baby. He’s there for her, so maybe you need to sit back and try and enjoy these few days’ rest, okay?’
He looked at her as though she’d just put forward the most ridiculous idea he’d ever heard. ‘Sit back? When I know both Michael and his long-lost bloody son are out there trying to edge their way into my daughter’s life in whatever way they can? And I know for sure, without a shadow of a fucking doubt, that at least one of them will stop at nothing, Martha. He’ll stop at nothing.’
Martha ran her thumb lightly over the knuckles of Reece’s hand as she looked into his eyes. Worried eyes. Tired eyes. He was never going to stop worrying about India, no matter how old she was or what mess she got herself into. It was never going to happen, but Martha could deal with that. She loved India too, like the daughter she’d never had, and as far as India was concerned Martha was her mum – she called her mum, she talked to her like a daughter talked to her mother. And just days ago India had told her something that she’d made Martha promise never to tell Reece. But Martha was unsure just what to do with the information she was now privy to because what she’d been told explained a lot about why Reece was right to want India to stay well away from Michael.
The minute she’d arrived in Malibu – before her father had arrived home – India had visited Martha, wanting a bit of time with the woman she’d grown to love more than she’d ever really loved her own mum. She’d needed to have a mother/daughter chat about everything that had happened and everything that was going on in her head. And maybe she’d told Martha more than she’d originally intended to, but all of a sudden things had just started to spill out, all those feelings she’d kept hidden for so long, things she hadn’t told all that many people before. And Martha had listened and held her and promised not to tell Reece anything, if that’s what India wanted.
But if what India had told her was true – and she had no reason to doubt it, given what had happened in the past – then Martha was going to find it very hard to keep it from Reece. For years India had shut Michael out of her life for a reason only a handful of people were aware of, and now Martha was one of those people, and now she understood perfectly why India had done what she had. But could she keep that from Reece, now she knew? Could she really do that, given what India had told her?
‘Maybe… maybe we just need to take a step back, honey. You know, let the kids deal with this themselves.’
Reece poured himself a tall glass of lemonade and sat back in his chair, taking a sip as he stared out ahead at the calm waters of the ocean, knowing India was down there on the beach, being looked after by the one man he knew cared about her more than any other – except him. He was her father, nobody could love her the way he did. But Kenny, he came close. Reece could trust him implicitly. Now. If only he’d realised that years ago, would things have been different?
‘Oh, maybe you’re right,’ Reece sighed, putting his lemonade down and pushing both hands through his now-greying hair. ‘I’m not getting any younger; I could do with slowing down now and again. Maybe it’s time to let go a little, huh?’
Martha smiled, leaning over to kiss him quickly. ‘Hey, you ain’t ever slowing down, Brogan. You’re not the type. But, well, India can and will sort this one out. She’ll be fine. And anyway, you’ll all be back in Vegas before you know it, so let me have some time with my gorgeous husband while I’ve got him all to myself, okay?’
He couldn’t help smiling too. She was the most wonderful woman, his Martha. She could turn any mood of his around and make him feel good just by being there.
But if he had any idea that she was all too aware of just what it was that Michael Walsh had done to his daughter all those years ago, maybe he wouldn’t be so keen to even have that man directing her movie, never mind getting back into her life. And with good reason. After all, what father would want any man who’d raped his little girl going anywhere near her again? Even if it did seem as though she’d forgiven him. For whatever reason. And Martha still found it hard to understand how anybody could forgive that. But, even if India had forgiven Michael for past actions, Martha knew Reece never would. And that was what she had to think about when deciding whether or not to tell him what India had told her. Did she break the trust of the girl she looked on as her daughter, or did she allow the man who cared about her more than life itself to know the truth?
***
‘Do we really need all this security, Kenny?’
The beach party was well underway, music spilling out from the house onto the beach outside, a small fire casting a light orange glow across the sand as the sound of people enjoying themselves filled the air. Just like the old days, except, with noticeable differences, like the security surrounding the house and the beach. They were trying to blend in, but it was strikingly obvious who the guests were – and who’d been employed to keep an eye on them.
‘India, honey, have you seen the amount of paparazzi out there? Or have you failed to notice the cars and vans that have been parked outside this place since w
e got here?’
‘But, security? There’re even police outside!’
‘Jesus…’ Kenny sighed, leaning back against the porch wall, taking a swig of beer straight from the bottle. ‘Are you really that naïve? All that shit hits the fan in Vegas and you honestly think we can carry on the way we used to? Without that security, sweetheart, this place would be crawling with reporters and photographers.’
‘Okay, okay. I get it.’ She quickly piled her hair up on top of her head, letting loose strands fall untidily over her shoulders. Then she grabbed the beer from Kenny’s hand and took a long swig herself. ‘I get it. We need security.’
‘Full time with you, kiddo. The amount of crap you give them to work with.’ He grabbed her round the waist and pulled her against him, taking the bottle from her and finishing off what was left inside before he kissed her quickly, and for a split second she was so close to responding, because the brief taste of beer on his lips, the feel of him against her, it was nice, it was safe. It was familiar, and she needed familiar right now. Anything else just didn’t feel right at the minute. But it had just been a quick, friendly kiss. That was all. Nothing more. They weren’t going back there. It was a complication she’d said goodbye to.
‘Hey, guys. Great party!’
India pulled away from Kenny, keeping an arm around his waist as she smiled at Mark Cassidy, the insanely good-looking front man of hugely popular rock band Black Rock Diamond, as he leant against the porch railings, arms folded, a wide smile on his handsome face.
‘Hey, Mark,’ India smiled, leaning into Kenny as he slid his arm around her shoulders.
‘Hey, gorgeous. How’re things going here then? Oh, and you guys, that video you shot for us – red fucking hot! I’ll get a copy sent over to you, you have to see it! For a forty-something mom of two, India, you sure as hell turn me on more than any freakin’ porn star ever could. That body, girl!’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment, you ageing rock star.’ She winked at him and he mouthed something dirty at her that made her throw her head back and laugh. ‘And you don’t want to let Stevie hear you saying shit like that. Where is Stevie anyway? She not coming tonight?’
Stevie was Mark’s extremely beautiful and exceptionally talented Swedish-born wife. A roadie with the band, she was also a pretty-much-in-demand photographer in her own right, having done more than a couple of shoots with India recently. She was a real-life rock chick in the true sense of the word, and India loved hanging out with her when she was in town.
‘She’s over in the U.K., with Luke. She’s got a photography assignment over there with a bunch of guys who’re reforming for a handful of gigs. She’s taken Luke with her so he can spend a couple of days with his dad.’
‘Is Johnny here?’
Mark looked behind him, down onto the beach where the band’s lead guitarist Johnny Jackson – a dead-ringer for the Foo Fighters’ Dave Grohl – was chatting away to a group of Kenny and India’s biker friends.
‘Yeah, he’s here. So’s Jack, somewhere. I’m guessing he’ll be hanging around all the hot women. You know Jack.’
The group’s bassist, Jack Warner, was a Scottish-born rocker with a love of the ladies, and every other rock star perk that came his way. Divorced and in no hurry to settle down again, despite hurtling towards his mid-forties, he loved the life being in a rock band could give him, and he lived that life to the full.
‘Look, India… I heard about what happened over in Vegas, so, what’s going down with that?’ Mark asked, accepting a beer from Kenny.
India shrugged, letting go of Kenny and reaching over to the table beside him to grab herself a fresh beer from the cool box.
‘Me and Dominic, we’re over. Although, to be fair, we’d hardly had a chance to get anything started in the first place.’
‘I’m taking it that’s why this place is surrounded by all this security then? Every reporter within sniffing distance wants the story, right?’
India nodded. ‘Yep. You got it.’
‘Dominic MacDonald is Michael Walsh’s kid, huh? Shit!’
‘You’re telling me,’ India sighed, ripping the top off the beer bottle and taking a drink. ‘Oh, Jesus, I don’t believe this.’
‘What?’ Kenny asked, turning round to look inside the house. ‘Christ! Who the fuck let him in?’
‘I can deal with it,’ India said, taking another swig of beer. Not that she needed the Dutch courage, but it wouldn’t hurt.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’
‘No. I said I can deal with it, Kenny.’ She squeezed his hand as she walked past him, back into the house, turning round to smile at him. ‘It’ll be fine. Really.’
Pushing past the crowd of people who’d congregated in the large open-plan kitchen of her beach house, she made her way over to the unexpected and unwelcome guest, not knowing what she was going to say to him when she got there, just knowing that she had to say something.
‘You weren’t invited,’ she said, pulling herself up onto the breakfast bar, crossing her legs up underneath her as she looked at him.
Michael kept his eyes on her all the time, his hands in his pockets, his demeanour that of a man who wasn’t going anywhere until he’d had a chance to say his piece. And India hadn’t spoken to him since it had all happened, had she? So maybe she at least owed him the chance to explain his side of things. Or was that just her letting those never-ending feelings for this man get in the way? Again.
‘Did you really think I wouldn’t come here, India? That I wouldn’t try and talk to you? After everything that’s happened?’
She didn’t say anything, just looked at him, continuing to drink her beer.
‘Have you seen Dominic?’ Michael went on, not comfortable with the silence she was offering up.
‘Your son, you mean?’
‘Come on, India. You can’t blame me for that, I had no idea he existed…’
‘Yeah, you did. For a little while. You knew, at some point, who he was yet you still chose not to tell me, not to let him know you knew. You helped turn a crazy, complicated situation into something way off the page, Michael.’
‘And he’s completely innocent in all of this, is he? He used you, honey. Don’t you see that?’
‘Oh, yeah, I see it. Of course I see it. I know exactly what he was playing at, but you didn’t help matters. You were just as bad as he was. Jesus, talk about like father like son!’ She slipped down off the breakfast bar, leaning back against it, taking another swig of beer. ‘You’re back to being the same old Michael Walsh, don’t you see?’
‘Because I still love you, India.’ He moved closer to her, trying to be heard above the sound of the music and the noise going on around them. ‘I still love you, and everything I did, I did it because…’
‘You love me, yeah, yeah, I get that. I get it, okay? But why does everything have to be so bloody twisted with you, Michael? Huh? Why do you have to keep secrets and then use them to your advantage in a way that only ever ends up hurting people? We had something so good, y’know…’
‘And we can have that again, baby. I promise you, we can have that again.’ He reached out to take her hand but she pulled it away, shoving it in the pocket of her denim shorts.
‘We can’t have anything anymore, Michael. We are over, it’s finished. And it should have been finished a long time ago. I should never have decided to do this movie, it was a mistake…’
‘No! Nothing was a mistake, India. Not the movie, not what’s happening now…’
‘You’re saying you don’t think what’s happening now is a mistake? You’re crazy! The whole situation is crazy, it’s ridiculous! It’s a fucking mess, Michael.’ She threw her head back and sighed heavily. ‘Did you bring Ethan home with you?’
In all of this she had to remember she was a mother, too. She had other, more important people to think about other than herself.
‘He’s at my place, with Emma. Just as well I didn’t bring him here then, huh? W
ith his mother carrying on like a teenager.’
‘Don’t give me that shit, Michael. Don’t you dare turn this around on me, do you hear me? Do you see what you do? Do you see the way you behave? It confuses the hell out of me because one minute you’re telling me you love me and the next you’re accusing me of partying like I don’t give a fuck about my kids! I don’t need that, okay?’
‘Ethan needs you. And I’m sure Ellie does, too.’
‘Ellie’s fine, I was with her today. Look, this is pointless. We’re getting nowhere, and now isn’t really the right time for any of this, is it?’
‘We need to talk before we go back to Vegas, India.’
‘Do we? Really? You see, when all is said and done, the only things you are to me anymore are the father of my son, and my director. That’s all. And that’s all you’ll ever be, Michael. Because I don’t have the energy to go there again, I really don’t.’
‘Everything okay?’ Kenny asked, joining India at the breakfast bar.
‘Everything’s fine,’ India replied. ‘Michael was just leaving. Weren’t you, Michael.’
It wasn’t a question. More of an order, but Michael wasn’t going to hang around. He didn’t want to upset her, didn’t want to make things any worse than they already were. He could wait. Things would calm down, things would settle, eventually. He just had to make sure that Dominic didn’t get to her, that he didn’t muscle his way into somewhere he wasn’t welcome. Because India may think he was ready to give up, but that just wasn’t the way Michael worked. When Michael Walsh wanted something, he usually got it. In the end. So why should this situation be any different?
CHAPTER 24
Vince couldn’t take it in. He couldn’t believe what had been going on around him, that Charley had kept something so important from him, and the fact she’d felt unable to talk to him about it stung in a way he couldn’t describe.
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