Vengeance

by Susan Lewis

  Kirsten was watching her, her tongue planted in her cheek, her eyebrows raised. ‘I take it Jane managed to get hold of a copy for you,’ she said.

  Helena grinned sheepishly. ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures,’ she said. ‘And before you start getting on to me about using Jane that way she was willing to do it.’

  Kirsten laughed. ‘Jane is willing to do anything for anyone as you well know. Still, at least she didn’t get caught and I can hardly blame you for trying. She called earlier, by the way, I’ve invited her to come to the cinema with us.’

  ‘I’ll bet she peed her pants with gratitude,’ Helena remarked. ‘So, did you read it?’ she asked, flopping down on the bed and folding her hands behind her head.

  ‘I did. So what’s stopping you going for the part of Marie Laveau? And please don’t say it’s out of some kind of loyalty to me.’

  ‘I only wish it were,’ Helena sighed. ‘No, it’s Laurence who’s stopping me.’

  ‘Laurence? You mean you’ve spoken to him?’ The warmth was rapidly seeping from Kirsten’s smile.

  Helena shook her head. ‘I don’t think anyone’s spoken to him, not in ages. Except Jane, of course. Apparently he just wants to spend time with Tom and to hell with the world.’

  ‘I see.’ Kirsten’s heart was churning. To think that he had taken his break up with Pippa so hard wasn’t easy to deal with. She threw the script on the bed beside Helena then sat down at the dressing table and picked up a pot of Dior moisturiser.

  ‘What did you think of it?’ Helena asked, watching the circular motions of Kirsten’s fingers as she smoothed the cream into her face.

  Kirsten shrugged. ‘It’s OK,’ she answered. ‘If it were mine I’d approach it from a whole different angle, but I guess Laurence knows what he’s doing.’

  ‘That’s just it, he’s not doing anything,’ Helena complained. ‘I hear on the grapevine that he’s taking on an associate producer or co-producer, or something.’

  ‘What he needs is a director.’

  ‘He’s got one. Willie Henderson. But if you ask me the whole thing’s falling about their ears.’ She hesitated, but only for a second. ‘What they need is your kind of talent to get this thing in shape.’

  Kirsten turned until she was facing Helena. ‘I’ve got to hand it to you, Helena,’ she said, shaking her head incredulously, ‘you nearly had me fooled for a minute there.’

  ‘What? What are you talking about?’

  ‘Honestly,’ Kirsten laughed, ‘you’re so transparent. You left that script there deliberately for me to pick up, didn’t you? You want me on that movie so’s you can play the part of Marie Laveau.’

  ‘Sure I do, I don’t deny it. But you’ve got to admit it’s a great opportunity for you too. I’ll bet Laurence is one of the few guys in this town that won’t be railroaded by Dyllis Fisher. And he’s already got most of the finance, courtesy of the director, so she can’t get to him that way either. So, why don’t you pick up the phone and call him?’

  ‘What? Are you out of your mind!’ Kirsten cried, so amazed that Helena could even suggest it that she couldn’t help laughing.

  ‘Go on. Nothing ventured and all that. What have you got to lose?’

  ‘What have I got to lose! Helena, I can’t believe . . . What on earth’s got into you?’

  ‘Just begin by calling him up and telling him how sorry you are about him and Pippa,’ Helena said, undaunted.

  ‘And why the hell should I do that?’

  ‘So that you two can bury the hatchet and get on with your lives.’

  ‘Have you been drinking?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well it’s the only explanation I can think of for you coming up with such a hare-brained idea.’

  ‘It’s a brilliant idea and you know it. You’d give your eye-teeth to work on a feature – well, wouldn’t we all? And here’s the opportunity staring you, us, right in the face.’

  ‘My God, you really are serious,’ Kirsten murmured, feeling as though she might be sick.

  ‘Sure I am. He needs another producer, you need a job. You’re still in love with him and I’ll stake my life on the fact that he’s still in love with you.’

  ‘Helena! For God’s sake! This isn’t about anyone’s feelings and the last thing I’m going to let you do is try to convince me of his. Not when we both know –’

  ‘We know nothing! Neither of us. So why don’t you find out. The field is clear now . . .’

  ‘Have you got any idea what this conversation is doing to me?’ Kirsten said, her dark eyes flashing with temper. ‘Now just stop it.’

  ‘Why? OK, you’re scared. I understand that, I would be too in your shoes. But you’ve got to give this a go, Kirstie. And look at this,’ she said, picking up the script and flicking through the pages, ‘notes all over it. So tell me now that you’re not interested.’

  ‘I make notes out of habit,’ Kirsten said irritably, turning back to the mirror. ‘Now, where’s Jane? If she doesn’t get here soon we’ll miss the start of the film.’

  ‘She’ll be here,’ Helena answered. ‘Now getting back to Laurence . . .’

  ‘Let it drop, Helena. I don’t want to discuss it any further.’

  Since the doorbell rang at that moment Helena had little choice but to do as Kirsten said. Still, it was enough for now just to have floated the idea – though she’d gone in so heavily she was probably in danger of sinking it. Good old Jane and her timely arrivals! But if Kirsten thought she’d heard the end of this she was very much mistaken. And grinning happily to herself Helena tripped off down the stairs to answer the door. It looked like life’s little retreat into slumberland was coming to an end. Sure, it might just be yawning right now, but if Helena had anything to do with it, it was going to be alive and kicking within the space of a week.

  And that was just where she was wrong for it wasn’t going to take anything near so long as a week, in fact to her unutterable amazement, it was standing right there on the doorstep the minute she opened the door.

  Kirsten’s hands froze on the buttons of her dress. ‘Helena,’ she said, turning to face her, ‘if this is one of your jokes . . .’

  ‘I swear it!’ Helena whispered. ‘He’s downstairs, in the sitting room.’

  Kirsten’s face paled even further as her heart rose to her throat. ‘What does he want?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know. He just said he wanted to speak to you.’

  ‘Oh my God! Oh my God!’ Kirsten mumbled a frenzy of nerves surfacing through the shock. ‘What am I going to do? What shall I say?’

  ‘Well I guess you’d better find out why he’s here.’

  ‘Didn’t he say anything? Didn’t he give you a clue as to what it’s about?’

  ‘Not a word. But my reckoning is that he’s come to his senses at last and realized, just like I did, that what his movie – and his life – needs is you.’

  ‘Helena, stop it!’ Kirsten cried, holding out her hands as though to ward off the words. ‘Just stop.’ But it was too late, her hopes were soaring, her heart was crying out for it to be true. ‘Oh my God,’ she spluttered, ‘I don’t think I can face him.’

  ‘Of course you can. You have to. Now come on, get yourself together, it’s only Laurence McAllister.’

  ‘Don’t say his name!’ Kirsten gasped, pressing her hands to her cheeks. She closed her eyes, forced herself to take long, deep breaths and at last a smile, together with a trace of colour, returned to her face. ‘You’re right,’ she said, ‘it’s only Laurence McAllister.’

  ‘That’s my girl,’ Helena said, pushing her to the top of the stairs. ‘Now off you go, give it your best, you’ll have him eating out of your hand in no time . . .’

  ‘Don’t talk like that,’ Kirsten muttered over her shoulder. She took three steps down then turned back to Helena. ‘I can’t do it! I feel sick!’ she whispered.

  ‘Of course you can,’ Helena said turning her round. ‘Come on now, poise and digni
ty.’

  Kirsten was still repeating the two words silently to herself as she walked into the sitting room, her heart struggling with such a turmoil of emotions she was finding it difficult to breathe. And even though she knew he’d be there the shock of actually seeing him rooted her to the spot.

  Laurence was standing with his back to the door looking down at a photograph on the table of Kirsten and Paul. Hearing her come in he turned to face her and for one unguarded moment his heart seemed to tighten in his chest. Even with her hair wet and pulled back that way and without a scrap of make-up on her face she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on.

  Kirsten’s voice was trapped beneath the knot constricting her throat. She tried to smile but her face was frozen. His presence in her house was overwhelming. His deep, penetrating blue eyes were watching her, holding her as firmly as he had once held her in his arms. Neither of them moved yet some remote and intangible part of herself was responding as though he was touching her, folding her against him, taking her and binding her to the very depths of his soul. No one but him had ever had this effect on her, for no one had ever been so much a part of her.

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’ she said, her voice as steady as the rays of sunlight slanting across the room.

  He shook his head and as he lifted a hand to his face and rubbed it harshly over his chin, Kirsten felt a shiver of memory go through her. It wasn’t only the familiarity of the gesture it was the sight of his fingers, so long, so well manicured, yet so undeniably masculine.

  ‘Would you like to sit down?’ she offered, a slight catch in her voice.

  Again he shook his head and then, as he removed his hand from his face, she saw the anger that had tightened his mouth.

  ‘I’ve come here,’ he began, ‘because I want to know exactly what you said to Zaccheo to persuade him to break up my marriage.’

  Kirsten blinked. Her astonishment was so profound that for a moment she wasn’t too sure she understood the question. ‘What I said to Zaccheo?’ she repeated.

  ‘We both know,’ he went on, a very real edge to his voice now, ‘that you were over there in the days leading up to Pippa leaving me –’

  ‘Hang on, hang on,’ Kirsten interrupted holding out a hand. ‘Let me get this straight. You are accusing me of influencing Zaccheo to break up your marriage. Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. I don’t know how you did it, but I want to know . . .’

  ‘Laurence, you’re wrong,’ Kirsten said anger deepening her voice. ‘I had no idea Pippa and Zaccheo –’

  ‘Don’t lie!’ Laurence growled. ‘You were behind it, you did something while you were over there and I want to know what it was.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Laurence! What the hell do you think I did?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he seethed, exhaustion and grief almost dulling the bitterness in his eyes. ‘That’s why I’m here. I want my wife back, my son wants his mother back and you are going to tell me what it was you did to make Zaccheo persuade her to leave us. It’s the only way I can think of to get her to come home, to undo whatever it was you –’

  ‘I didn’t do anything!’ Kirsten cried. ‘Whatever was going wrong in your marriage was going wrong long before Pippa left you.’

  ‘And just what the hell do you know about my marriage?’ he thundered.

  ‘Nothing. But no wife who’s perfectly happy with her husband just walks out and leaves him for another man who, according to you, didn’t even want her until I told him he did.’

  ‘She’d known Zaccheo for over three years, it’s too much of a coincidence that she should run off with him at the very point you arrive back on the scene. Now I don’t know how you did it Kirsten, but what I do know is why. And let me tell you here and now there will never be anything between us again. Do you hear me? Never!’

  The pain of his words was searing her, but outrage surpassed it. ‘You flatter yourself, Laurence!’ she cried. ‘I’ve never said or done anything since I arrived back in England to give you the impression I wanted you back.

  ‘You turned up at my fucking house, at a party to which you weren’t even invited!’ he roared. ‘You go over there to Italy and before I know it my wife’s left me. So what’s it all about if it’s not –’

  ‘What it’s all about is your own damned conceit, your paranoia and your refusal to accept that your wife could love another man. It had nothing to do with me, Laurence. Nothing! You want her back, you do all you can to get her back, I’m certainly not going to stop you. But don’t come here . . .’

  ‘It was because of you that she left!’ he yelled. ‘She told me that. So what was it you said to Zaccheo?’

  ‘Laurence, will you just listen to yourself! What do you think I am, some kind of god? I don’t have that sort of power and if you were thinking rationally . . .’

  ‘It was because of you!’ he raged. ‘She left me because of you. But we’re finished, Kirsten! We were finished the day you killed that baby!’

  The shock was so brutal it took her breath away. She stared back at him, her face had turned horribly pale. ‘You’re not making any sense, Laurence,’ she said quietly. ‘It was Zaccheo she left you for – it had nothing to do with me . . . Nothing to do with . . .’

  ‘Go on, say it! It had nothing to do with the way you murdered my child – or the way you told me!’

  ‘Laurence, don’t,’ she said, starting to shake. ‘It’s in the past now . . .’

  ‘And so are you! You’re not a part of my life anymore, so quit right now thinking you can be. I have a wife. I love her and I’m going to get her back. Now I want to know what it was you said to her, or to Zaccheo, to convince her that I’d never gotten over you.’

  ‘I’ve never spoken to Pippa – or to Zaccheo – about you in my life,’ Kirsten murmured. Her eyes were darting around the room as though searching for something that might return the strength she could feel deserting her. His cruelty was worse than anything she had suffered these past months, his hatred was crushing her. ‘Did it ever occur to you,’ she said, ‘that Pippa might just have been using me as an excuse?’

  ‘Don’t try to get out of this, Kirsten. I came here for answers and damn it, you’re going to give them to me.’

  ‘Laurence, you’re blinding yourself,’ she said. ‘If Pippa loved you then nothing I said, or did, could have persuaded her to leave you. I’m sorry, I’m truly sorry that you’re having to go through this . . .’

  ‘Not half so sorry as I am that you ever set foot back in this country,’ he seethed.

  Kirsten flinched. She was on the point of asking him to leave when the door opened and Helena walked in.

  ‘I can’t take any more of this,’ she declared, slamming the door behind her. ‘For Christ’s sake, aren’t either of you listening to what the other’s saying?’

  ‘Helena, please.’ Kirsten interrupted, but Helena was already rounding on Laurence.

  ‘What the hell is it with you? Don’t you think she’s suffered enough? And tell me, just what do you stand to gain by trying to convince her you hate her?’

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ Laurence exploded, a scornful laugh in his voice. ‘I wanted her out of my life five years ago and I want her out of my life now . . .’

  ‘Then would you mind telling me what the hell you’re doing here? I don’t recall her inviting you.’

  ‘And I don’t recall asking your opinion, so butt out of this.’

  ‘The hell I will. If you think I’m just going to stand by and let you bully her . . .’

  ‘Helena! I can fight my own battles,’ Kirsten interjected.

  ‘Yeah, you sure can do that,’ Laurence sneered. ‘History proves it. But this is one battle you’re not going to win, Kirsten. I don’t want you back, I’ve never wanted you back . . .’

  ‘And I don’t remember ever asking you to come back!’ Kirsten screamed. ‘Now just get out of here. Go somewhere else and sort out your marriage!’


  ‘Will you two just stop it!’ Helena raged. ‘You’re getting hysterical over things that . . .’

  ‘Helena! Will you just butt out of this!’ Laurence roared.

  ‘No! Pippa’s gone, Laurence! Face it! She left you because she loves another man, Ipso facto it’s time to move on. Blaming Kirsten for what happened five years ago is going to get you nowhere because you’re every bit as much to blame yourself!’

  ‘Me!’ Laurence cried incredulously.

  ‘Yes you! You pushed her into doing what she did and now you can’t forgive her. Well it’s high time you did. Maybe then you two guys could get on with the real business here and get that goddamned movie of yours made.’

  Laurence was so stunned by the sudden change of topic that he could only look at Helena as if she were some kind of lunatic. Then, with a very dangerous light burning in his eyes, he turned to Kirsten.

  ‘So that’s what it’s all about,’ he said. ‘You can’t get any work so you thought you’d bust up my marriage and come work with me. Well you got to be one crazy lady if you think I’d let you within . . .’

  ‘I told you five minutes ago to get out of here!’ Kirsten yelled. ‘And you, Helena, give him back his goddamned script and –’

  ‘My what!’ Laurence roared. ‘Are you telling me you’ve got a copy of my script?’

  ‘Oh shit!’ Helena murmured. ‘No, I’ve got a copy of your script!’ she said aloud. ‘Kirsten read it . . .’

  ‘And it stinks!’ Kirsten shouted. ‘So don’t flatter yourself that I want anything to do with it, because as far as I’m concerned, Laurence McAllister, both you and it can go and rot in your fucking paranoia.’

  His face taut with rage Laurence started for the door.

  ‘Hold it, hold it!’ Helena cried making yet another attempt to calm things down. ‘Let’s just try to get to the bottom of this, shall we? I mean, why you really came here. What is it you want from Kirsten?’