Kiss

by Jill Mansell

  ‘Gina matters.’ Katerina closed her eyes. When she opened them again a second later she saw Simon heading towards them, pretending not to look inside the car. ‘Marcy does, too. She’s just suffered a miscarriage. You should be looking after her.’

  She was holding herself rigidly away from him. Andrew, longing to take her into his arms, knew she didn’t really mean what she was saying.

  ‘I want to look after you,’ he told her, willing her to stop this stupid game. ‘Kat, I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.’

  Simon, rounding the final corner, swallowed hard when he saw who was waving to him by the school gates. Shit, now what was he supposed to do?

  ‘Simon!’ Izzy called out to him, as if he could have failed to notice her. Whoever could miss Izzy Van Asch? he thought, colouring with pleasure at the sight of her even as his mind raced ahead to the immediate problem of preventing her from seeing Kat and Andrew together.

  ‘I had to come and wish Kat good luck for this morning and she hasn’t arrived yet,’ she explained, her dark eyes alight with amusement. ‘I can’t believe it - for the very first time in my life I’m early and she’s late.’

  Simon, crossing his fingers behind his back, said, ‘She’ll be here any minute now.’

  ‘And how about you? Are you nervous?’

  ‘Uh . . . yes.’ That was an understatement. He promptly turned one shade pinker as Izzy gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Well, don’t be.You’ll both do brilliantly, I know it. And then there’s tonight to look forward to,’ she added cheerfully. ‘Where have you decided you want to go?’

  Simon, who didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, hesitated for a second. ‘Well, Cambridge is my first choice. Although Mum isn’t so keen on the idea of me leaving home.’

  Izzy burst out laughing. ‘I’m talking about restaurants, not universities. Honestly, that daughter of mine! Didn’t she even tell you I’m taking the two of you out to dinner tonight?’

  Distracted by the realization that the sleek bronze car parked at the kerbside was the very latest Mercedes, and that the big, ungainly dog peering out of the open window was Jericho, Simon said, ‘Um . . . she must have forgotten to mention it.’

  ‘It’s Tash Janssen’s car.’ Izzy, who had followed his gaze, smiled at the expression on his face. Clearly, Kat had kept equally quiet about Tash.

  He gulped. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. So, how about this meal tonight, then? Where would you like to go?’

  Katerina’s mother really was amazing, thought Simon. Awestruck, he craned his neck sideways in an effort to catch a casual glimpse of the driver. The tinted windows didn’t help, but he was just about able to make out the silhouette of his hero, wearing sunglasses and drumming his fingers idly against the steering wheel.

  ‘I’ve always wanted to go to Planet Hollywood,’ said Simon hopefully, wondering if by some miracle Tash Janssen might be there, too.

  Planet Hollywood? Good grief. Awash with disappointment, Izzy said, ‘Not Le Gavroche?’

  ‘Anywhere. Anywhere.’

  Delighted, she pushed back her hair. ‘Le Gavroche it is, then. As long as we can get a table at such short notice. Simon, where is Kat?’

  Just around the corner, arguing with her lover. Simon, panicking all over again at the thought of the proximity between mother and daughter, muttered hastily, ‘Don’t worry, she won’t be late. Do you really know Tash Janssen?’

  Izzy paused, wondering where Kat might be. It wasn’t likely, but there was always the faint possibility that she might have overslept. ‘We’re recording a song together,’ she replied absently. ‘Do you think we should be looking for her?’

  ‘No!’ Simon shuddered. ‘She’s never late. She’ll be here. Le Gavroche . . . isn’t that a bit expensive? Do they serve English food?’

  ‘They serve the best food,’ declared Izzy, with an expansive gesture. The next moment her gaze slid past Simon and her eyes lit up. ‘There she is! Darling . . .’

  Katerina wasn’t in the mood for hugs and kisses and Walton-type endearments. Behind her, she could hear the tyres of Andrew’s car squealing as he made his ill-tempered getaway. Ahead of her stood Izzy, still wearing last night’s clothes, looking hopelessly unmotherly in skin-tight jeans and a lacy off-the-shoulder top. Simon, obviously entranced, towered over her and several fellow pupils were lingering on the pavement close to a sporty, metallic-bronze car which Kat just knew had to be connected in some way with Izzy.

  ‘Mum, I’ve got an exam.’

  ‘Of course you have! Sweetheart, I’ve just been talking to Simon. We’re all set for dinner at Le Gavroche, but we couldn’t resist coming to wish you luck. Down, Jericho! Kat, you must say hallo to Tash Janssen. Tash, this is my brilliant daughter.’

  Izzy, flushed with pride, pulled open the driver’s door of the Mercedes and the girls lingering on the pavement gaped. Katerina, desperately on edge after her difficult encounter with Andrew, could scarcely bear to meet the eyes of Tash Janssen. She wished she could murder her mother.

  ‘Say hallo,’ prompted Izzy, puzzled by her daughter’s lack of enthusiasm. ‘We drove all the way over here to see you . . .’

  ‘I didn’t ask you to,’ Katerina retaliated crossly, realizing she was on the verge of tears. This was all too much, too embarrassing for words. The other girls were giggling like five year olds, pushing each other closer to get a better look at this stupid rock star, and she was the one who would have to put up with their inane questions later. Trust Izzy, she thought bitterly, to turn her A level exams into a bloody circus.

  Simon, glancing at his watch, said, ‘It’s nine o’clock, Kat.’

  ‘We have to go,’ she explained brusquely, beginning to edge away.

  Disappointed, Izzy gave her a hug. ‘Well, good luck, darling. You’ll do brilliantly, I know you will.’

  Katerina tried not to flinch as her mother kissed her; it was too reminiscent of the way Andrew had tried to put his arms around her just now in the car. ‘Don’t, Mum,’ she said in pained tones. ‘Everybody’s watching.’

  ‘So what?’ declared Izzy, trying to coax a smile out of her and failing absolutely. ‘Who cares?’

  ‘I care,’ snapped Katerina. Then, more cruelly than she had intended, she added, ‘We don’t all long to be the centre of attention, you know. Not all the bloody time.’

  Chapter 31

  It was no good. By mid-morning, it was glaringly obvious that his inability to concentrate was affecting his work. Even Pam, his secretary, had been moved to enquire whether anything was wrong.

  Everything’s wrong, Andrew had wanted to shout at her, hating the way her eyebrows rose in polite disbelief as, emphasizing every mistake, she proceeded to read his dictation back to him.

  ‘Maybe you’re going down with summer ’flu,’ she suggested, not believing for a second that he was really ill. Something was up, and her fertile imagination was at work figuring out what it might be. Three times this week she’d fielded phone calls from Marcy Carpenter, telling her Andrew was in a meeting when in reality he’d slipped out of the office for yet another prolonged ‘lunch appointment’. Pam, who spent her own meagre lunch breaks devouring egg-and-cress sandwiches and Mills and Boon romances borrowed from the local library, couldn’t help hoping that Andrew and Gina would get back together. Gina had always remembered her birthday, complimented her on her cardigans and been interested enough to ask her how she was, whereas Marcy Carpenter was nothing but a selfish, idle trollop.

  ‘I do have a bit of a headache,’ lied Andrew. His headache was persuading Katerina to see reason, making her understand that guilt and a ridiculous sense of obligation towards Gina weren’t valid reasons to end their love affair.

  Ever practical, Pam said, ‘I’ve got some aspirins in my handbag.’

  Gina had always carried aspirins around in her bag. For a fleeting moment Andrew wished she’d swallow a whole tub of them, then she wouldn’t be able to stand in th
e way - however unwittingly - of his own happiness. It was ludicrous, he thought with rising frustration, that Katerina should feel compelled to make such a noble gesture simply to save the feelings of the wife from whom he was separated. Who, after all, could say whether Gina would even care . . . ?

  ‘Thanks,’ he replied absently, rising to his feet and almost knocking a stack of files to the floor as he did so. ‘But I think I’ll take a breath of fresh air instead. I’ll be back by two if anyone needs to speak to me.’

  He was out of the office within seconds. Although it was only eleven forty-five, Pam pulled her packed lunch out of her capacious handbag and settled down to enjoy a few extra chapters of A Marriage Made in Heaven by Desiree Bell. She deserved that much at least, she told herself as she bit forcefully into an apple. If Andrew Lawrence couldn’t even wish her a happy birthday he needn’t expect her to slave away over his rotten, incompetent dictation.

  Andrew knew vaguely where Gina was working because Katerina had once told him, but he had to use the Yellow Pages in order to get the full address. Fired up with enthusiasm - it was so blindingly obvious, he couldn’t think why the idea hadn’t occurred to him earlier - he drove straight over to Doug Steadman’s office and took the stairs two at a time, only pausing for breath when he reached the door at the top of the landing, upon which a small, highly polished plaque announced D. STEADMAN,THEATRICAL AGENT.

  ‘Andrew!’ Gina looked up, startled. Automatically, her left hand smoothed her straight, blonde hair, as it always did when she was caught unawares. The fact that she was no longer wearing her wedding ring was, he felt, an encouraging sign.

  ‘I had to see you,’ he explained, his eyes bright with purpose, and Gina felt her heart begin to pound. Could it all be over between Andrew and Marcy? Had he come here to ask her to forgive him? Did he really want to come back to her?

  ‘Y-yes?’ she stammered, twisting a pencil between her fingers and wishing she’d worn a dress that wasn’t four years old. She hadn’t had time to blow dry her hair with her customary attention to detail this morning, either. And why, oh why, had she allowed Izzy to bulldoze her into leaving off her wedding ring?

  ‘We have to talk, Gina. About something very important. ’

  At least Doug was out of the office. An audience would be more than she could cope with, thought Gina faintly, although it certainly hadn’t seemed to bother Debra Winger in An Officer and a Gentleman.

  ‘OK,’ she murmured, reaching out with trembling fingers and taking the phone off the hook. She’d just have to pray that no one came into the office and interrupted them. ‘What do we have to talk about?’

  Having intended coming straight out with it, Andrew now understood that in order to avoid confusion he must first fill Gina in on one or two other pertinent details.

  ‘Look, the situation with Marcy and me . . . well, it isn’t working out. I thought I was in love with her, but I realise now that I was wrong. If I’m honest, it started going wrong almost straight away.’

  My God, thought Gina, struggling to contain herself. This is really happening! I can’t believe it . . .

  ‘The baby,’ she murmured, feeling so light-headed she had to grip the edge of her desk.

  Andrew looked momentarily surprised. He’d forgotten she didn’t know about that. ‘Oh, she lost it.’ He dismissed the subject with an airy gesture. ‘Miscarriage, a couple of weeks ago. I shouldn’t say it, of course, but in some respects it was a bit of a relief, what with the way things were going between us. As soon as she finds herself somewhere to live, Marcy will be moving out of the flat. It was just one of those things, really. I suppose we all make mistakes.’

  Oh God, thought Gina. Oh God, he wants me back . . . ‘So, that’s that out of the way.’ Andrew took a deep, steadying breath. ‘I had to explain, otherwise you’d have thought I was behaving badly. The thing is, you see, I’ve met someone else now. And this time it is for real. The only problem at the moment is the fact that she thinks you might be upset if you found out about it.’

  Gina attempted to smooth her hair, but her arm was so heavy she couldn’t lift it. Her entire body felt like lead. Her heartbeat had slowed to an ominous, funereal pace.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Of course, I knew you wouldn’t mind,’ continued Andrew, adopting a hearty manner. It was quite the best way, he’d decided; if he was forceful enough he could make Gina realise it was the only sensible attitude to take. ‘We’re practically divorced, after all, but she was still worried.’ Leaning forward, he added confidentially, ‘I think she’s afraid you might never speak to her again, or some such ridiculous thing.’

  Gina sat there, paralysed. It was like thinking you’d won an Olympic medal, then being told you were being disqualified through no fault of your own. And in the few mind-numbing seconds following the realization that Andrew was talking about another woman, she had struggled to envisage the stranger - a chic, dark-haired divorcée, possibly - with whom he had fallen in love.

  But now . . . now he was making it plain to her that the woman was someone she actually knew, and not only was that so much worse than any imaginary stranger, but she couldn’t for the life of her even begin to guess who it might be.

  Until Andrew, in his eagerness to sort the matter out, said, ‘And she’ll be moving into my flat, so you don’t have to worry about any awkwardness at home.’

  It was becoming progressively harder for Gina to breathe. Betrayal hit her like a hammer blow. She couldn’t believe it.

  ‘You. You and . . . Izzy . . .’ she said faintly.

  ‘Izzy?’ Andrew, staring at her in amazement, almost laughed. How could anybody get something so wrong? ‘Do me a favour, old thing! It’s not Izzy I’m talking about. It’s Kat.’

  Izzy, having spent the day with Tash at his record company’s headquarters, had discovered how the other half of the music industry really lived. MBT, the label to which she herself had been signed, was a young and thrusting company with a great reputation for fostering promising new talent. By contrast, Stellar Records was quite simply the biggest label in the business and it had the headquarters to prove it. Stellar House, situated in Highgate, was as big as a museum and twice as impressive. Open-mouthed, Izzy had followed Tash along endless, record-lined corridors and been introduced to people-who-mattered along the way. Within an hour of their arrival his manager was summoned and faxes started to fly. Meetings were set up between Tash’s ‘people’ and hers. Contracts were drafted over a stupendous lunch. And Izzy was warned in no uncertain terms - on at least five separate occasions - that under no circumstances whatsoever must she either do, say or even think anything which might have a detrimental effect upon Tash Janssen’s career. At all costs, his reputation must stay intact.

  At this, Tash had cast her a sideways glance and awaited the explosion, but Izzy had thought it so funny she’d simply laughed. ‘You mean like letting slip his deepest, darkest, most shameful secrets?’ she had countered, with a subtle wink in his manager’s direction. Harvey Purnell had coughed, straightened his bow tie and replied stiffly, ‘I mean precisely that, Miss Van Asch.’

  ‘OK, don’t panic,’ she replied with a grin. ‘I won’t breathe a word about the fact that he knits all his own sweaters. Not to anyone.’

  ‘I’ve heard of bringing your work home with you,’Vivienne grumbled as Sam set the word processor down, ‘but this is ridiculous.’

  He never seemed to be at home these days, she amended fretfully. And now it looked as if even those few precious hours when he was were going to be taken up with yet more boring paperwork.

  Sam, however, replied drily, ‘Don’t sulk. It’s for Katerina.’

  ‘Oh yes?’

  ‘She’s just finished taking her A levels and I wanted to give her something which would be useful when she starts her medical training. Since we’re in the process of replacing our computer system at The Steps, I thought she may as well have this.’

  Vivienne softened. Sam was extremely fond of
Katerina, who worked hard and appeared to possess so many of the attributes which Izzy - as far as he was concerned - sadly lacked. Privately, Vivienne had never before encountered a seventeen-year-old girl who dreamt about logarithms and who seemed to have no interest whatsoever in boys. As far as she was concerned, attractive girls like Katerina weren’t meant to devote their teenage lives to serious study. It surely wasn’t natural . . .

  Chapter 32

  When they arrived at Kingsley Grove at six-thirty that evening, however, only Gina was there.

  ‘It’s a present for Kat,’ explained Vivienne with enthusiasm as Sam carried the word processor through to the dining room and placed it carefully on the highly polished table. If he could get it up and running before she returned home, so much the better.

  ‘Katerina doesn’t live here any more.’