by Nigel May
‘Oh, she’s my date for the party. I’m going with her,’ said Aaron just as Nova was adding, ‘Apparently she’s pretty frightful full stop, according to Georgia.’ Both Aaron’s and Nova’s sentences were spoken simultaneously, but both loud enough for the other to hear.
‘You’re taking that woman to Evie’s charity bash? How can she be your date when she is married to the man who could one day be my son’s father in law?’
Aaron didn’t know where to begin. ‘Things have become a little complicated lately … Tanya and Devon aren’t together anymore.’
‘Complicated?’ barked Nova. ‘And you’re obviously the reason why, Mr Rose.’ It was the first time that Nova hadn’t called him by his first name. It hurt to hear. ‘Georgia’s father must be distraught. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think it’s time for us to go, don’t you Jacob? Sarah, have a driver meet us outside immediately.’
Nova turned to Aaron again. ‘Complicated appears to be an understatement, does it not? Home wrecker seems more apt. Despite living in Bel-Air I am actually a huge believer in family values, Mr Rose. Till death do us part and all that.’
As the three Americans left the hotel Aaron couldn’t work out exactly what had just happened. He could see the slight look of disappointment on Sarah’s face that was maybe because he was dating another woman. He could definitely see the huge disappointment streaked across Nova’s face that he was dating Georgia’s stepmother. But the biggest disappointment of all was the knotted boulder that gripped his heart telling him that perhaps he had unwittingly just blown his chances with Team Chevalier of bagging his dream job under the gaze of the Hollywood sign.
Sixty-Four
Victoria added a final light dusting of powder to her cheeks and stared at her reflection in her hotel room mirror. Eyelashes extended and curled to maximum flirtation potential? Check. Long blonde hair pulled back from face and tied into a flowing ponytail, affixed with a neon bright Paul Smith head scarf to compliment the rosy hue that had started to kiss her skin? Check. Loose-fitting blouse and push-up bra combo to demonstrate that her outfit for the evening ahead was one built for a carefree fluidity of movement yet spiced with a hint of exotic sexuality? Check. Well, should she happen to find herself strolling romantically at midnight around the Residencia pool she wanted to be sure that it didn’t look like she’d tried too hard to impress, even if her breasts had strayed a little too far into the semi-pneumatic realms of Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders for her own liking. Maybe the purchase of a boob-hoisting bra at the eleventh hour for the evening was a touch too far.
She had thought of nothing but Charlie since their chance meeting earlier. Her mind had been full of his winning smile, his healthy glow, that solid ass. Another fashionable combo.
Evie had been thrilled to hear that Charlie was staying at the hotel too and had booked the three of them a table for dinner at the restaurant terrace overlooking the island’s famous sand dunes. It was a stunning view and as Victoria picked at the few final crumbs of her dessert, she watched the sky turn from a deep carmine into an enveloping black on the horizon, suddenly aware of just how impressive her situation was. Or at least how it seemed that way on the outside.
The evening had been joyful. Evie and Charlie were great company. It was only occasionally that Victoria would find herself feeling insecure, worrying, as she listened to her fellow diners’ stories that maybe she had no right to be there. What did she have to contribute? How had she, someone who had been part of the amazing melting pot of talent and inspiration that was Farmington Grange ladies’ college managed to feel so washed-up at twenty-eight?
As she listened to Charlie talking about his love of Georgia, his hopes for the future and his upcoming work projects she felt that pang of jealousy that had become far too familiar to her. The same occurred when Evie talked of movie offers coming her way and lucrative sponsorship deals.
What was Victoria’s future? Her mind started to wander until she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Evie’s.
‘Victoria, what’s wrong?’ Evie moved her hand from Victoria’s shoulder and raised it to her friend’s cheek. ‘You’re crying.’
Victoria hadn’t been aware that she was, but as she moved her own hands to her cheeks she found that they were both damp with sadness, her inner thoughts of misery manifesting themselves. More pill mood swings perhaps. Or was it genuine sadness? She knew the answer.
‘Are you okay? Was it something we said? Is it the stuff with Mitzi?’ It was now Charlie’s turn to show concern and he placed his hand on her knee. A frisson of excitement shot from her leg and through her nerve endings. Even in her misery, his touch felt good.
Victoria knew that she had to explain.
‘I’m sorry, the last thing I want to do is put a dampener on what has been such a lovely evening. I’d like to say it’s Mitzi’s disappearance making me cry … but it’s not.’ She motioned to her tear-stained cheeks. ‘This is about me. About what I’ve become.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Charlie.
As Evie gave Victoria a supportive squeeze under the table, Victoria opened the dam that had been keeping the flow of thoughts stemmed inside her head. She began to tell Charlie about everything that had been happening in the Palmer-Roberts household. About Scott, about Chloe, about her reliance on the painkillers, which horrified Evie, and about the possibility of her entire family falling apart. The only thing she kept from her friends was the fact that she had developed feelings for Charlie that she really didn’t know how to deal with.
About an hour later, Victoria found herself wandering around the hotel pool with Charlie by her side. They were alone in the moonlight, Evie having had to head back to her room to give a phone interview with an American newspaper about her latest movie. Seeing as she had claimed fatigue in order to spend a few days away with Victoria, she had felt obliged to say she would do an interview for the film company even if it meant that, given the time difference between Gran Canaria and America, it would be midnight when they rang.
Evie had been shocked by Victoria’s confession that she was addicted to painkillers and was determined that she would do everything to help wean her friend off them. Money would be no object in finding Victoria the best help possible.
It felt good for Victoria to finally talk about all that had been going on. Like a cleansing of her soul. It hurt to hear the words, the admission of just how screwed up her life currently was, but maybe it was necessary to share in the present in order to fully try and move on with her future. As Evie unwillingly left the table for her interview, she promised Victoria that she would make things better. When a determined Evie Merchant decided to do something, Victoria knew there would be no stopping her. Maybe the actress would be the one to bring Victoria back from the brink of despair. Maybe her next role would indeed be that of Victoria’s saviour. The thought gave her hope. Was there light at the end of the painful tunnel that Victoria was currently travelling through?
The pain in Victoria’s side made her wince as she walked around the pool with Charlie. He noticed the wave of discomfort spread across her face, causing her to sway slightly.
‘Are you okay?’ He held out his hands to steady her. Again the frisson returned. Victoria cursed herself inwardly at its appearance.
Victoria tried to toughen herself against the pain. Despite wanting to scream in agony, neither the situation nor the company were right. ‘Not really, no,’ she said through gritted teeth. Again it felt good to be honest. And controlled. At least having shared her story to Evie and Charlie she felt much more free to be truthful.
‘But I’ll manage,’ she continued, making a mental note to swallow another painkiller as soon as she returned to her room. Going cold turkey in the heat of the Canarian night was not an option just yet.
‘That’s the spirit,’ said Charlie, unsure how to react.
‘I think it’s the spirit that might be a problem too,’ said Victoria. ‘I’m not sure Spanish alcohol and tablets are a good mix
.’ It was true. Her brain still felt somewhat fuzzy from the wine and cocktails that had kept free-flowing during their evening meal.
‘Maybe not, but you are going through a lot right now, so you can be forgiven for wanting a drink or two,’ reassured Charlie. ‘I am really sorry to hear about the divorce. I’m hoping that you guys sort it out, especially for the sake of the kids. You still love him, don’t you, despite everything …’ He left the words hanging.
The question stopped Victoria in her tracks. Did she?
Charlie continued. ‘After all, you have so much to lose. Those kids of yours need a mother. I grew up well, Nova always looked after me, but the one thing I never had was a solid family unit. You know, the classic mum/dad scenario. And I missed out on it, I reckon. I never knew my real dad. He didn’t even know I existed. Then my grandfather, who acted as my dad, died in front of my eyes when I was fifteen and it hurt like hell. That was like losing a limb. Then a few years later, Mum’s first husband, Goldman, died too. Again it was like losing a father. It sucked big time and I sometimes think that if it wasn’t for the family unit I have now with Nova and Jacob that I could have gone off the rails. Every boy needs a father figure, no matter what their age. And the same for a girl. Lexi will always need a mother figure and that’s you. You adore your kids don’t you?’
‘Of course I do.’ Victoria almost snapped the answer, affronted that the idea could even be questioned.
‘And Scott?’
‘Oh, he adores the twins too. No doubt.’
‘That’s not what I meant. I meant do you adore him?’
Again that question. This time, Charlie waited for an answer.
‘I did. I loved him with all of my heart when we got married. I chose him above everything else. I had plans, dreams, places I wanted to go and work, but they didn’t matter. I gave him everything I could.’
‘You don’t walk into love, you fall in,’ said Charlie. ‘That’s why it’s so hard to get out. That’s if you really want to.’
‘Aren’t you the regular Maury Povich?’ deadpanned Victoria.
‘Or Jeremy Kyle, depending on which side of the Atlantic you are,’ replied Charlie.
‘Hopefully I have a better orthodontist than half the people who appear on that show,’ smiled Victoria.
‘That is a given,’ said Charlie, placing his hand under her chin and raising Victoria’s face to mock-check her teeth. Did Victoria imagine it or was his hand pressed against her flesh a little longer than was actually necessary? She pushed the thought aside.
‘Do you love each other now?’ asked Charlie, releasing her chin.
‘He loves the nanny, it seems.’
‘Does he? He’s thinking with his pants, not with his head. He’s cheating on you with her for sex. Do you really believe there is more to it than that?’
‘But he can have sex with me.’ Victoria felt her cheeks blush as she said it.
‘And have you been?’ It was a blunt question from Charlie, but one that hit home straight away.
‘No.’ It was all that she needed to say out loud. She thought of the times that Scott had tried to instigate sex between them. The number of times that she had refused because of a lack of confidence in her own body. Or because of how spaced out she was from the anti-depressants. Had she pushed Scott into Chloe’s arms? Deep down, she reckoned that perhaps she had.
‘I don’t think either you or Scott want this divorce. Maybe it’s time to start fighting back.’
‘But he has betrayed me. His infidelity had destroyed me.’
‘Love is giving someone the power to destroy you but trusting them not to. Scott has hurt you. But if you really want to keep your marriage alive you have to push his infidelity to one side. To win him back and make him see you as the beautiful wife and mother you are. Holding a grudge is letting someone live rent free inside your head. Nobody benefits.’
‘But how stupid will I look trying to win him back now that people know what he’s done to me?’
‘I’m not condoning his actions, but there are two sides to every story and you and Scott need to sit down and work out what you actually want to say to each other. And don’t do it through a solicitor. You need to work out if you both think there is something worth fighting for. And as for friends judging you … who gives a flying fuck what they think? Fake friends believe in rumours, whereas real friends believe in you. Now, I think it’s time we turned in, don’t you? I have a rendezvous with a soap starlet at the crack of dawn and a flight back to the UK to catch mid-morning. It’s been fantastic to talk and I hope that things work out for you, Victoria, I really do. You deserve it. And so do your kids.’
Charlie took her hand and bent to kiss her goodnight on the cheek. Whether it was the fact that he had called her beautiful, or the sympathy she felt about his childhood, his wise words of comfort and wisdom or just the fact that she found him incredibly gorgeous, something idiotic snapped within Victoria. As his lips brushed against her cheek, she swiftly maneuvered her head so that his lips came into contact with hers. Without thinking about what she was doing, she let her lips open and wrapped her other hand around the back of his head, pulling him urgently towards her. Her intent was clear.
But her advances were rejected, Charlie dropping her hand and pushing himself away from her as quickly as he could.
‘Whoa … what are you doing?’ Even for a serial flirt like Charlie this was not as planned. He’d not been leading her on tonight, he knew he hadn’t.
Victoria regretted her actions immediately. ‘I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to …’ She floundered over her words, unsure what to say.
Charlie was visibly taken aback but understanding in his reply. ‘It’s the drink, and your pain … and your confusion.’
‘I am so sorry.’ As she stared at Charlie she suddenly realised just how idiotic she had been to think that there could be any chance of a hint of romance between them.
‘It’s forgotten,’ said Charlie. ‘You know I love Georgia. And deep down I reckon you know that you love Scott still too.’
‘But, after everything …’ stumbled Victoria.
‘As I said before, Victoria, there are two sides to every story. We’ve all done stupid things that we regret later.’ There was a moment of silence between them before he added. ‘Haven’t you just proved that?’
Victoria knew that he was right.
Sixty-Five
Victoria’s return to the UK was just as quick as her departure had been. Before Charlie had even finished asking a series of innocuous questions to the soap starlet lying poolside in the skimpiest of bikinis live on Rise and Shine the next morning, Victoria and Evie had touched down on British soil and been chauffeured directly to The Abbey Rehabilitation Centre, set within two hundred acres of lush English countryside.
But this was to be no rural picnic. Evie had dealt with the centre in the past and knew of many celebrity colleagues who had booked themselves into the palatial splendour of The Abbey in an attempt to unhook themselves from an addiction that was ruining their life. It was the number one rehab centre in the land for a reason. It worked. And results cost thousands. But luckily for Evie, and more so for Victoria, money wasn’t a problem. Evie was determined to nurse her friend back to full health, no matter what the price tag.
Having found Victoria crying into her pillow with pain in her hotel room during the night, an empty blister packet of painkillers staring up at her, Evie knew that she had to do something. And that she had to do it fast. If Victoria was out of painkillers – her wretched cries to Evie to find her some more on the island immediately proved that she was – then there wasn’t a moment to waste. Evie had seen it before. People desperate for their next fix, no matter what the drug. Immediately The Abbey came to mind. If she took Victoria home, Chloe would be furnishing her with painkillers straight away. And a continued addiction was the last thing Victoria needed to try and save her marriage.
Despite Victoria’s protests, the pair of them left
for the airport and travelled home. It was only once back on UK soil that Evie told Victoria about her plan to take her to The Abbey.
By the time the sun rose fully over the British countryside, Victoria was booked in and ready to begin the slow road to recovery. As Charlie’s sun-soaked interview went to air, both Victoria and Evie were crying. Victoria was in tears of pain as she contemplated the hardship of tearing herself away from the medicinal crutch that was her painkillers and Evie shed a solitary tear at the heartache her friend was set to endure, as she was driven away from The Abbey. Before leaving, she had given strict instructions that no-one was to contact or visit Victoria. And that included Scott and the children. She would let Scott know exactly what had been going on, including Chloe’s narcotic handouts. She was determined to save Victoria’s marriage, whatever it took. After all, that was what friends were for.
‘It’s a good job I trust your son implicitly,’ grinned Georgia as she watched Charlie wrapping up his interview with the soap star. ‘I’m sure every virile heterosexual man in the land will be leching like crazy looking at her in that bikini.’
‘A girl has to do what a girl has to do,’ said Nova, staring at the TV screen affixed to the wall in front of both her and Georgia as they sat in the Rise and Shine green room. Nova had already been interviewed on the show that morning. It was her only TV appearance since arriving in the UK, her allegiance being to the show which had made her son a star.
Georgia had accompanied her to the studios as she had some work emails to catch up on and needed to see her boss about extending her time off until the mystery of Mitzi had been solved. Georgia wasn’t stupid and knew that having her potential mother-in-law with her when she begged for more time off would stand her in good stead with her bosses. Nothing upped your brownie points like having the biggest TV star in the world alongside you as you went on bended knees asking for more time away from the weatherboards of the land. They had no choice but to agree or look spitefully mean.