by Susan Lewis
Next was Lola, but her mobile would be off too while she was playing bingo, so hanging the expense she called Pats.
‘Oh my God!’ Patsy cried in a gush of amazement. ‘That is so fantastic. I wish I was there, I want to shriek and jump up and down with you. I might even have to go and hug Fronk. On second thoughts … Susannah, I’m so proud of you. You must have done a spectacular audition if they dumped the minor role on someone else and cast you in the lead. It’s incredible, and no less than you deserve. Have you told Alan yet?’
‘No, you’re the first one I’ve been able to get hold of. Honestly, I can hardly catch my breath it all feels so unreal, and when I think of everything that has to happen now … I’ll presumably have to have riding lessons, and costume fittings … Oh my God, I’ve just realised it’s probably going to mean being in Derbyshire for the whole week instead of just a couple of days. I don’t think Alan’s going to like that too much.’
‘He’ll be fine about it,’ Patsy assured her. ‘He understands how much it means to you. Neve, on the other hand, might present a bit of a problem, because she’ll have to stay with Lola while you’re away and now she’s got that lovely big bedroom …’
‘Oh hell, I hadn’t thought of that.’ Susannah’s elation was starting to deflate. ‘She’s bound to want to stay put, and knowing Alan he’ll say it’s OK, but I can’t inflict her on him like that. No, she’ll have to go to Lola, or I can’t take the job.’ Despair was rapidly clouding her joy, because she couldn’t ask Lola to have Neve any more than she already did, it wasn’t fair at her age. So did this mean she wouldn’t be able to take the part?
‘Why don’t you let Lola speak for herself?’ Pats suggested.
When Lola did her snort of disgust at being considered too old it was so typically Lola that it made Susannah laugh and hug her. ‘I’m not that decrepit yet,’ her aunt informed her, ‘and our girl’s practically a grown-up. She doesn’t take that much looking after any more.’
‘But she’s become very wilful lately,’ Susannah reminded her, ‘and you know how soft you are with her.’
‘Not so soft that I’d let any harm come to her, so stop worrying about me, and think about how you’re going to persuade her to give up that lovely new bedroom five nights a week, because that’s going to be your biggest problem, if you ask me.’
However, to Susannah’s amazement it didn’t prove anywhere near as difficult as she’d feared, because Neve was so excited by the prospect of having a famous mother that apparently no sacrifice was too great. Not even the precious private apartment.
‘I’ll still have it at weekends,’ she declared, ‘and like you said, on the days you’re not working, if you’re back in London I can stay there then. So no, it’s cool.’ Then, with a beaming smile that melted away all the clouds of the past couple of weeks, she threw out her arms. ‘My famous mum,’ she laughed, and squealing with delight she squeezed Susannah with all her might.
Alan’s response to the news was another surprise, but not in the way Susannah had hoped for, because though she hadn’t expected him to be thrilled by the idea of her being away all week, she hadn’t imagined him putting up such a fight.
‘Yes, it’s fantastic news for you,’ he cried, putting down the glass of champagne she’d handed him as he’d come through the door, ‘but what about us as a couple? Or doesn’t that count now you’ve got fame in your sights?’
‘Don’t put it like that. It’s not about fame …’
‘Then what?’
‘It’s about what I do, who I am. This is the biggest role I’ve ever been offered, or am ever likely to be offered.’
‘But the timing …’
‘Isn’t brilliant, I know, but I promise you our relationship matters to me every bit as much as it does to you. Finding you again has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me, but I still have my dreams, and right now they’re being handed to me …’
‘By another man,’ he cut in sharply. ‘Don’t you think we’ve been down this road before?’
Confused, she said, ‘What other man?’
‘Michael Grafton, who else? You said yourself you’d only get the part if he supported you, and now here you are with nothing less than the lead. So please excuse me if I’m finding his motives a little worrisome.’
‘For heaven’s sake, I hardly even know him. I’ve met him twice …’
‘But he’s clearly remembered you all these years, and now here he is, putting your name in lights. I can’t help wondering if he’ll be exacting any kind of payment for his patronage.’
The slap to his face was so hard that it knocked him back a step and shocked her almost as much as it did him.
‘I’m sorry,’ she gasped, ‘but that was totally uncalled for.’
‘You’re right,’ he admitted, rubbing his cheek. ‘It wasn’t what I meant. It came out wrong … I guess I’m uptight because we haven’t even been living together a week, and you’re already talking about spending at least eighty per cent of your time somewhere else.’
‘Not because I don’t want to be with you. I’d give anything for the programme to be based in London so I could come home every night, but I don’t have any say in it.’
‘I understand that,’ he said, ‘but please try to see where I’m coming from, will you? I lost you once to a low-life director, what kind of chance am I going to stand against a hotshot producer?’
‘It’s not like that, and you’re not going to lose me to anyone. I’ll be here every weekend, and during the week if I’m not needed … Look, right now it’s impossible to say how it’s all going to unfold, because I haven’t even received a script yet, or a call from anyone on the series, so let’s stop getting ourselves worked up and at least allow ourselves a glass of champagne.’
As she embraced him he pressed a kiss to her hair and reached for his glass. ‘I guess we should toast your success,’ he said flatly.
Regarding him with dismay she picked up her drink too.
‘Am I right in thinking you’ve taken the part without actually knowing what kind of character you’ll be playing?’ he asked, without making a toast. ‘I mean, does she get up to the same kind of tricks as the other one?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
‘But if she does, you’re happy to do it?’
‘Not happy, no, but everyone has elements of their jobs they don’t like. Even you.’
With a turbulent sigh that seemed to draw on an equal measure of restraint, he said, ‘Yes, even me.’ For a moment his thoughts seemed to go elsewhere, then coming back on track, he said, ‘That’s why, when I come home … I was imagining relaxing with you, and Neve, making you the focus of my world. Now all I have to look forward to is an empty house again.’
Understanding why he was seeing it that way, and suspecting that she might too were she in his shoes, she said, ‘We’ll probably find it’s nothing like we’re expecting. I could end up with whole weeks off at a time …’
‘Would you turn it down if I asked you?’ he demanded abruptly.
She started and her face froze as a stirring of alarm broke loose inside her. Please God, he didn’t really want her to answer that.
‘Forget it,’ he said. ‘Of course I won’t ask you. I, of all people, know how disastrous it can be to a relationship to try and come between someone and their dreams. I just hope you can appreciate why I’m so anxious about yours.’
‘I promise you, there’s no need to be,’ she assured him, going to wrap her arms around him again. ‘I wish I knew how to convince you of that right now, but you’ll see, over time, that I have absolutely no intention of letting anything or anyone come between us. Particularly not a married man.’
He frowned in confusion. ‘Michael Grafton’s married?’ he said.
She nodded and smiled. ‘To Rita Gingell, the novelist.’
‘I see.’ After absorbing the information he said, ‘Well, I have to admit that does make me feel a little better.’
&nbs
p; ‘Good, I’m glad. Now, why don’t you go and do whatever you need to before dinner, and I’ll start getting things under way.’ She didn’t feel good about lying to him, but for all she knew Michael Grafton and Rita Gingell might have got back together since their highly publicised break-up a couple of years ago. If they hadn’t, well, Alan would find out soon enough that Michael’s interest in her was purely professional, as was hers in him.
The following morning as Alan walked through the reception area that he shared with two other doctors, one of medicine, the other of psychology, his secretary looked up from her desk and smiled warmly as she said good morning.
‘It’s good to see you back,’ he told her. ‘How was Tenerife?’
‘Wonderful,’ she replied, her deeply tanned and lined features showing how pleased she was to be asked. ‘My husband had a bit of a tummy for a couple of days, but nothing new there.’
The drollness of her tone made Alan smile, and he was about to walk on when she said, ‘I’ve just been checking the machine. Did your brother-in-law manage to get hold of you in the end? He left a few messages, I think it must have been on Sunday. He sounded quite stressed again.’
Keeping his tone light he said, ‘Yes, he reached me at home, thanks, and I’ve seen him since. He’s receiving proper treatment now, but if he rings again, put him straight through, will you? There’s no reason why you should have to deal with him.’
‘OK, but what if you’re in session? Shall I still put him on?’
‘Certainly, if he starts becoming abusive. What was he saying in his messages? Do you still have them?’
A look of discomfort came into her eyes. ‘No, I don’t,’ she admitted, ‘and I think I’d rather not repeat it.’
Understanding completely, he said, ‘I’m sorry you had to hear it. I take it it was as bad as the last time he rang?’
She nodded.
‘Then it’s good that you erased it. I wouldn’t want it falling into the wrong hands – apart from the damage it could do him, it wouldn’t do me much good either.’
‘If you ask me, he should …’
‘Let’s just try and forget it,’ he interrupted gently, ‘and remember, if he asks for my home address you mustn’t give it to him. I don’t want him bothering Susannah and Neve, and the same goes for Helen, my estranged wife. I wouldn’t want her being hurt by her brother’s accusations, any more than I’d want her believing or repeating them.’
‘Of course,’ she said, still looking worried.
Going back to her desk, he said, ‘It’s me he’s angry with, but if you’re feeling insecure and want to involve the police … They’re already aware of what happened before I left Manchester, but if it would make you feel better to speak to someone …’
‘No, it’s fine,’ she told him. ‘It’s not me I’m bothered about, it’s you. To have something like this …’
‘I can handle it,’ he assured her. ‘Just make sure to let me know if it becomes too much for you.’
After he’d walked into his office Janet turned to one of her colleagues at a nearby desk, who’d clearly been listening to the exchange.
‘What do the messages say?’ the other secretary whispered.
Deciding it had to remain confidential for the sake of such a kind and understanding man, Janet merely shook her head and went back to her computer. She didn’t really think Dr Cunningham’s brother-in-law was going to kill him, any more than Dr Cunningham was likely to have committed the horrible crime he was being accused of, but it was best not to make it the subject of gossip. And it was a good job Dr Cunningham had been to the police already, she decided, because they needed to know when this sort of thing was going on, especially when it could ruin a good man’s reputation. And there was no doubt in Janet’s mind that Dr Cunningham was a very good man with a reputation that was fully deserved.
Chapter Twelve
‘EASYJET!’ PATSY EXCLAIMED as the taxi pulled up outside Orly airport in the teeming rain. ‘You’ve booked us on …’
‘I will sign thank you,’ Frank informed the driver. ‘Patreesha, perhaps you run fast into terminal. I will bring your bag.’
Annoyed at being ordered around, but not wanting to get wet, Pats poked her umbrella out of the door, shot it up and made a quick dash into the airport building.
By the time Frank came to find her she was waiting in a zigzag line between two orange tapes leading up to the check-in desk, and wondering how she could send him to the back of the queue so they might board in different groups and therefore avoid sitting together.
‘Your bag is very heavy,’ he commented as he joined her, raindrops running like pearls over the top of his bald head, and into the inky black fuzz of the hair that surrounded it.
‘It’s full of samples,’ she informed him.
He seemed surprised. ‘But why? I have already send them by courier to save us carrying. They will arrive yesterday at the hotel.’
Patsy cast him as nasty a look as she could muster. ‘You might have thought to tell me,’ she retorted.
‘I am very sorry, but is no problem, because I am happy to carry the bag.’ Then, eyeing the queue in dismay, ‘Pity is not possible to check in online for this flight, but things are moving I suppose. I could, how you say, murder for a coffee?’
‘Looking at you, I could do it for much less,’ she muttered, and promptly had to turn away because he laughed and she very nearly did too.
‘Have you been to Monte Carlo before?’ he asked chattily, when they were finally settled at a cafe close to the departure gate.
She lifted her frothy cappuccino, and took a sip. ‘No, this will be my first time,’ she replied. ‘How about you? No, don’t tell me, some wizened old biddy is blind and dumb enough to have you as her gigolo, so you go every weekend.’
His expression was a pastiche of hurt. ‘She is not so old,’ he informed her gravely, ‘but I admit she has few problems with the eyes.’
Not entirely sure if he was joking, she continued drinking her coffee, wondering whether to get out her laptop now, or wait till they were on the plane.
‘So, this is your first time in Monte Carlo,’ he mused, sipping his espresso.
‘Yes, but before you start offering to show me around, this is …’
He blinked in amazement. ‘Quelle idée merveilleuse,’ he said. ‘Why did I not think of it myself?’
‘Think of what?’ she said, worried when he stopped.
‘Think of showing you around,’ he replied. ‘There is much to see, and we cannot be all the time having body massage and facial scrubs. I will speak with the concierge as soon as we arrive.’
‘Don’t worry. If there’s time for any sightseeing, I’m quite capable of going alone.’
He simply shrugged and downed the rest of his coffee. ‘I think I am to get on the plane now,’ he informed her, standing up. ‘I will take your heavy bag with me.’
‘What?’ she demanded in confusion.
‘I am in the Speeding Boarding group,’ he explained. ‘It is a service you must book online, but it is not an expense I expect the company to pay for, so I pay for it myself.’
Patsy looked down at her own boarding card. Group C. Right in the middle of the scrum, that would end her up near the back of the plane. Great!
When she finally edged her way on to the aircraft, between an enormous woman who’d already trodden on her twice, and a man with chronic halitosis, it was to find Frank comfortably ensconced in a window seat, two rows back from the front, a copy of Le Monde in his lap, and a stewardess kneeling on the middle seat in front, clearly basking in his flirtatious attention.
‘Ah, she is here,’ he said, spotting Patsy’s contemptuous look approaching.
A poor excuse for Miss France turned around, still batting her eyes, but managing to smile a cheery welcome as she said to Patsy, ‘We have been saving a place for you. Welcome on board.’
Realising how churlish and childish she’d look if she refused to sit down –
besides which, she needed her laptop which was in the locker above him – Patsy thanked the trolley dolly and slipped into the aisle seat.
‘I am afraid we have a full flight this morning,’ the stewardess told her, ‘so please could you move into the middle, next to your husband?’
Patsy’s head spun round to Frank. He appeared all innocence, and since, at a push, it might be considered a reasonable assumption, she decided not to give him the satisfaction of rising to it.
‘I’d like to spend the flight discussing Alain Savier’s report on retail sales in France,’ she informed him, once she was settled next to him with her laptop. ‘He assured me it would be on your desk by the end of the day yesterday, so I’m hoping it was.’
‘I am ’appy to tell you that it was, complete with the analysis you requested when we last spoke on the matter. I spend many hours with it already, and I think this flight is presenting a very good opportunity to put our heads together.’
Patsy braced herself for the suggestive wink, or eyebrow waggle, or worse, some kind of nudge, but when she looked at him he only treated her to a surprised sort of smile.
‘This is what you would like, yes?’ he enquired. ‘For us to put our heads together?’
Ignoring what she felt sure was artifice, she said, ‘Does this mean when I next go online I can expect to find an email containing the necessary data to start formulating a plan?’
‘I would hope so,’ he answered. ‘I send it late last night, so there is no reason for it not to be there. Meantime, I have all that we require right here on my laptop.’
Registering the fact that he’d been working while she was at a party hosted by Paris Match, she said, ‘I’m impressed by your dedication, and now, Fronk, I have a question for you.’
Appearing both pleased and intrigued, he produced his most affable smile as an encouragement for her to continue.