by Susan Lewis
Neve shrugged. ‘Maybe.’ Then, ‘If I don’t go, I’ll save up and pay you back the money. Mum says I might be able to get a job up at the Centre for the summer.’
Giving her a squeeze, Pats said, ‘You don’t have to pay me back. I’m just wondering why you’ve suddenly decided you don’t want to go. I thought you were looking forward to it.’
Neve merely shrugged again.
‘How would you like to come to Paris for a while?’ Pats suggested. ‘You can stay with me and I’ll show you around. It could be fun. And if I get to meet Frank’s little boy, you could be just the ally I need.’
Neve’s head was still down as she said, ‘That would be cool.’ Then suddenly, to Patsy’s surprise, she turned and buried her face in her chest.
‘Oh my love,’ Patsy murmured, holding her close and smoothing her hair as she started to cry. ‘What is it? Come on, you know you can tell me.’
‘It’s so horrible, Pats,’ Neve sobbed. ‘I hate it and I hate him and I wish I was dead.’
Knowing who they were talking about, and remembering only too well the various stages of rejection, Pats said, ‘Ssh. It’s OK, it’ll be all right.’
‘No it won’t, because Mum’s going to have a baby and then she’ll marry him and we’ll always have to be here.’
‘Oh darling, I know it’s hard right now,’ Patsy said gently, ‘but I promise you it’ll get better.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Neve cried. ‘He tries to say it’s all in my head, but I know it isn’t. It’s real and I hate it and I wish we’d never gone on to that website.’
Feeling for how cruelly it was backfiring on her, Patsy said, ‘This is just a bad patch you’re going through. It’ll pass, I promise, and I’ll always be there for you, at the end of the phone, or if you want to …’
‘Hello, and what’s going on in here?’ Alan said jovially from the door.
Feeling Neve stiffen, Patsy held her more tightly and mouthed, ‘She’ll be fine.’
‘Come on,’ he said, ‘we’re about to start serving up and we’ve got guests, Neve, so you know better than to be hiding away up here.’
‘It’s OK, I’ll bring her down,’ Patsy told him.
Shaking his head, he indicated for Pats to go first. ‘Let me deal with this,’ he said quietly.
‘No!’ Neve snapped, springing to her feet. ‘Come on, Pats. Let’s do as he says,’ and grabbing Patsy’s arm she dragged her past Alan and down to the first landing, where she hooked Patsy’s arm and continued, side by side, to the hall, not letting her go until they were in the kitchen on their way out to the patio. Once there, she seated herself next to Lola, and apart from when she was asked to help, that was where she stayed for the entire afternoon.
‘It is very plain to see,’ Frank commented as he and Patsy took a taxi back to her apartment later, ‘that Neve is a very unhappy jeune fille.’
‘Yes,’ Patsy murmured, feeling even more disturbed about it than she could manage to put into words.
‘It is per’aps a good thing that you are going to be here for a while,’ Frank continued. ‘I know they are like a family for you, and my perception, when we were in that house, is that the, how you say, harmony is all wrong.’
‘Mm,’ Patsy responded. ‘Then your perception is very sensitive, chéri, because you’re right, things are definitely not as they should be, and not only with Neve, because the vibe between Susannah and Alan is not what it should be either.’
‘But most of all I think the problem is with Neve,’ he insisted. ‘However, I will say no more, because it is not my place to. I just think you need to make yourself available for her whenever she might need it, especially with her mother being a long way away.’
‘Yes,’ Patsy murmured, ‘I think you’re right, I probably should.’
It was Tuesday now, and Susannah was on the unit bus en route to Chatsworth House, where they were to shoot a scene in the famous Painted Hall. She was already in costume: an extremely revealing red cocktail dress, copious amounts of fake diamond jewellery, and black hold-up stockings. The four-inch stilettos to complete the outfit were still with her dresser, ready to slip on just before the camera rolled. Until then she was in flat sandals, with an umbrella at her side because the forecast was for occasional showers.
She wondered if it were possible to feel less like playing the kind of scene that lay ahead. Marianne and a local landowner were to sneak out of the party into an anteroom to engage in a fast and furious bout of unbridled lust. Today she was relying on Marianne heavily again, because the mere thought of allowing anyone to see her, Susannah, even partially undressed, much less touch her, was turning her stone cold. If the truth were told, all she really wanted was to be with Neve, because no matter how often Alan insisted he was making progress, it certainly wasn’t looking that way to her. If anything Neve seemed more depressed than ever, and it wasn’t helping at all to be reminded that broken hearts don’t mend in a day, or that it was normal for someone with psychological issues to plunge right down into the darkness before properly coming up again.
She just wished Alan would give her some space to talk to Neve herself, but on the rare occasions she saw her these days he was always there, hovering over them, fussing and advising and criticising in a way that made her want to scream at him to go away. She never did, because it wouldn’t help, and anyway, he’d just accuse her of being hormonal, or overworked, or, like many women in her position, frustrated by the way her career was affecting her family.
Though she kept reminding herself that he meant well, and was doing his utmost to make sure he was there for Neve, she could only feel thankful that the school holidays were almost upon them. At least then she and Neve should be able to spend some time together, provided, of course, Neve was still willing to come up to Derbyshire and learn to ride as they’d planned.
Looking up as the bus drove into Chatsworth’s magnificent grounds, where modern sculptures and hugely elaborate fountains nestled amongst lavish garden beds and carefully tended lawns, she found her thoughts drifting to Michael and his own beautiful home. She guessed he must be back from New York by now, and was probably in London, rather than here, in Derbyshire. She’d heard no more about the emails, so perhaps the person sending them had found someone else to pester, and she was about to dismiss them from her mind when their content came into a sudden, un expected focus. They were cautioning her to take care of her daughter, advice she hadn’t taken too seriously at the time. Nothing was more important than Neve, so of course she was taking care of her. But her heart was starting to twist with the realisation of how worried she was about Neve now …
It had to be coincidence, because there was no way an outsider, a complete stranger, could know about the turmoil Neve was in, much less warn against it. And it wasn’t as if the emails had mentioned her by name, so they could apply to anyone in the public eye with a daughter. Nevertheless, if there should be any more developments in tracing the sender, she would mention to Michael how difficult Neve seemed to be finding life right now. She should probably bring it up with Alan, too, to see if he thought there might be a connection.
Hearing those around her murmuring in amazement, she turned to look out of the window and saw that the bus was following the drive along the crest of a hill that offered a breathtaking view of the estate. As she gazed down on the sheer splendour of the house’s Palladian frontage, and considered its centuries of history, she could almost feel its magic starting to lift her. But then her mobile bleeped with an incoming text, and seeing who it was she sank back into a swamp of despondency.
Just to say I’m thinking of you and our baby. With all my love the happiest man in the world. Xxxx
With a bizarre sense of unreality she closed the message down and stared out of the window again. She must remember that it wasn’t the baby’s fault she felt the way she did; it was an innocent little life, and in her better moments, she was finally starting to experience some maternal feelings towards it.
In fact, were she able to put all her misgivings and torn loyalties aside, she could easily feel the urge to hold it in her arms and watch its tiny face as its eyes opened and its mouth searched for her breast. She would love and cherish it every bit as much as she did Neve, because it was hers, so how could she not?
Letting her thoughts drift on as the bus circled round to approach the side of the house, she began imagining how it would work with her schedule when the baby eventually came. She probably wouldn’t have to take too much time off, and when she returned to the set she could hire a nurse, or a nanny, to take care of it while she was shooting. She wondered how he, or she, would be scripted in after the birth – would another baby be brought in to play the part, or should she allow her own to take it on? She was in little doubt of how Alan would feel about that, he’d hate it, and as its father he’d have every right to object. Her heart clenched with anxiety as she wondered how on earth they were going to be a united and happy family if she continued to stay with the series. The baby would have to be here with her, but it would be unfair to Alan to give him a child that he could only see at weekends. Unless he moved up to Derbyshire, and the thought of that left her feeling flat and empty inside.
By the time they arrived at the house and wandered through to the Painted Hall, most of the lights had al ready been rigged and the camera was rehearsing positions.
‘About ten minutes,’ the first assistant told her, when she asked how long it might be before she was needed.
After letting her dresser know where to find her should anyone shout for her sooner, she wandered off along the cloisters to a secluded niche at the far end, where she took out her phone to call Neve. Even though she’d be in class at this time, Susannah would rather leave a message than have no contact at all. As she waited for the greeting to end she was trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound like a nag, or a mere repeat of the messages she’d left before.
‘Hi, it’s me,’ she began after the tone. ‘I’m in this amazing house called Chatsworth. I thought you might like to look it up on the Internet. It’s one of the country’s grandest stately homes. We can come here during the summer if you like. There’s so much to see and do, not just old paintings and furniture and stuff. Oh, and I meant to say, if you want to invite Sasha to come and keep you company for a couple of weeks, why don’t you? We should probably get Lola up here too. I have a week off at the beginning of August, so think about where you might like to go then. The world’s our oyster now, remember?’
Running out of ways to try and make Neve happy, at least for the moment, she rang off, and was about to put her phone away again when it started to ring. Seeing it was Alan she stared down at his name, waiting for the call to go through to messages, until at the last minute her conscience made her click on.
‘Hi, how’s it going up there?’ he asked.
‘OK. We’re about to start shooting so you were lucky to catch me. Is everything all right with you?’
‘Of course. I’ve just ordered this amazing new baby video from the Internet. I thought I could drive up there on Wednesday and stay the night so we can watch it together.’
Unable to think of anything else to say, she mumbled, ‘Lovely.’
‘And we still haven’t reached a decision about whether or not we want to know the sex. What’s your latest thinking?’
‘I guess it’s helpful in some ways,’ she began.
‘But it takes away the element of surprise. If it’s a boy I’d like to call him George. Does that work for you?’
It didn’t, but all she said was, ‘Let’s talk about it later. I have to go now.’
‘OK. Maybe we should let Neve help choose a name. It might make her feel more included.’
‘Yes, it might,’ she agreed, and turned to gaze into the inner courtyard as a violent downpour began pounding the flagstones.
‘I’ll put it to her when I collect her from school later,’ he said.
At the sound of footsteps echoing along the stone walkway she looked round and saw the director approaching. ‘I have to go,’ she said to Alan. ‘I’m wanted on set,’ and ringing off she took a deep breath with a rapid instruction to Marianne, and made herself smile.
‘OK,’ the director said, rubbing his hands together, ‘before we start on the party scene, I want to take you and Adam into the side room with a dresser to check how easily, or not, the dress comes off.’
Michael Grafton was walking into his office as Naomi announced a call from the company’s chief lawyer.
‘Put him through,’ Michael told her, and going to hit a button on his speakerphone he shrugged off his jacket as he said, ‘Grant, what can I do for you? If it’s about the Cheeseman business, I’m afraid I haven’t had time to go over everything yet.’
‘No problem, still plenty of time,’ the lawyer assured him. ‘It’s about these emails. I’ve got a name for you.’
Michael paused in hanging up his jacket. ‘OK, shoot,’ he said, going back to his desk.
‘Carl Pace. Does it mean anything?’
Michael frowned. ‘No. Should it?’
‘I don’t think so, I just wanted to check. The investigators are still on it, so I’ll get back to you when there’s more.’
‘Thank you,’ Michael said, and after jotting down the name, he asked Naomi to find out where Susannah was today.
When the reply came back a few minutes later he called Marlene on his private line.
‘Have there been any more emails since the last one you told me about?’ he asked, after explaining why he was calling.
‘None that I’m aware of,’ Marlene replied, ‘and Cordelia would be sure to let me know. I confess I’m surprised it’s a man. I’d assumed it was a woman.’
‘Me too. We need to find out if the name means anything to Susannah, but I gather things are falling behind at Chatsworth.’
‘A combination of technical problems and weather,’ Marlene confirmed, ‘and the forecast isn’t good, which is going to give us a real headache for the night shoot if the rain doesn’t let up.’
‘Which is why I didn’t contact her right away. They’ll be under a lot of pressure over there, and I can’t see any reason for urgency, unless you tell me differently.’
‘None I can think of,’ Marlene assured him, ‘but while you’re on there are a few budget issues I’d like to discuss if you have time.’
* * *
‘Ken,’ Alan said down the line to his lawyer, ‘sorry it’s taken me a while to get back to you, I was with a patient. Janet said it was urgent.’
‘It could be,’ Ken confirmed. ‘I had a call from Carl about an hour ago. Apparently a private investigator’s been trying to get hold of him.’
Alan’s face drained so rapidly it was as though a main artery had burst. ‘Why?’ he asked.
‘They haven’t said what it’s about, only that they want him to get in touch.’
By now Alan’s throat was so dry that he could barely speak. ‘So why did Carl contact you?’ he asked hoarsely.
‘At the moment he seems to think we’ve hired the investigator, trying to dig some dirt that will discredit him, or get him out of our hair. He was his usual charming self in telling me to back off, but he’s going to find out soon enough that someone else is paying the bill.’
Alan’s eyes closed tightly. His head felt as though it were about to explode. This was that bastard Grafton’s doing, meddling about in affairs that didn’t concern him.
‘I think you need to get yourself up there pronto,’ Ken advised, ‘because if anyone’s going to tell an investigator about your experiences with that family, it really ought to be you.’
The rain was continuing to fall, clattering over the trailer rooftops, slamming into windows, beating leaves from the trees and bouncing from the ground like a cascade of stones. The night shoot had been called off an hour ago, and the warning had already gone out that they were rescheduling to Saturday, which meant that the weekend break was effect
ively cancelled.
‘I’m really sorry,’ Susannah said to Lola on the phone as she let herself back into the lodge. ‘I know it’s your birthday and we were all going out for dinner, but I’m in every scene, so there’s no way I can get out of it.’
‘Oh, don’t you worry about me,’ Lola clucked. ‘I’ve had enough birthdays to last me a lifetime, I don’t need any more.’
With a smile Susannah shook off her raincoat, saying, ‘I trust that’s not exactly what you mean.’
After a beat Lola chuckled. ‘I don’t suppose it is, now you come to mention it. Anyway, I shall be all right. I expect Neve’ll be here, and Pats. Alan might be back by then too.’
Susannah frowned, until remembering he was intending to come up to Derbyshire the following day, she said, ‘Yes, I’m sure he will be, and he’s bound to want to take you out, so you’ll be royally spoiled. I’ll let him know where your presents are so he can bring them along. Is Neve with you tonight? Or at Sasha’s?’
‘She was supposed to be here. Alan was dropping her off, but then he rang her to say something had come up, so she went home with Sasha.’
‘Have you spoken to her?’
‘Only when she called to let me know what was happening. Oh, and she sent a text about half an hour ago asking me to record your programme, because she was going out for something to eat with Sasha and her parents.’
‘OK,’ Susannah said, deeply moved by the fact that Neve was still watching the programme in spite of how adrift they seemed.
She and Lola chatted on for a while longer, until picking up on how tired Lola was sounding, Susannah rang off and tried calling Alan. After being diverted through to messages she explained about the weekend, and ended by saying, ‘Perhaps it’s not such a good idea for you to drive all the way up here tomorrow. With the schedule falling apart I’m not sure what time I’ll wrap, and when I do I expect I’ll be fairly exhausted, so not much company I’m afraid. Anyway, call me when you get this and we can talk about it then.’
By the following morning she still hadn’t heard back from him, which, if the truth were told, made her feel more relieved than concerned. She knew he wasn’t going to be happy about her having to work at the weekend, so he was probably sulking, or hoping to punish her with silence, and she really didn’t want to try and placate him, any more than she wanted to have a row. So, deciding to let him stew for the moment, she checked to see if there were any messages or texts from Neve. Finding none, not even a brief goodnight, or good morning, she glanced at the time, and seeing it was after nine, she scrolled through her numbers and pressed to connect to Sasha’s mother at her office in Mayfair.