by Kim Lawrence
‘Hope, are you awake?’ Lindy opened the bedroom door and repeated the question.
‘I am now. What’s wrong?’
‘I shouldn’t have disturbed you.’ I’m selfish, she decided guiltily as Hope blinked in the light of the lamp she’d switched on. ‘I’ll go…’ she said half-heartedly.
‘Don’t be stupid. Sit down.’ Hope patted the bed and sat upright.
‘If I don’t talk to someone I think I’ll explode,’ Lindy confided, taking the place her sister offered.
‘Well, we can’t have that—too messy. Go on, spit it out,’ she advised with a resigned smile.
‘I don’t know whether you’d noticed, but me and Sam…Sam and I…’
‘I’d noticed.’
‘The thing is, I asked him if he loved me.’
Hope’s eyes widened and the last vestiges of sleepiness vanished from her expression. ‘You did what?’
‘I asked him if he loved me.’
‘And I always thought Anna was the outspoken one.’ She looked at her sister with amazement. ‘The suspense is killing me, Lindy. Are you going to tell me what he said?’
‘Yes—I mean he said yes, not yes, I’m going to tell you.’
Hope seemed to have no trouble deciphering this garbled reply. ‘Wow!’ she whispered, her eyes shining. ‘Wow!’ she repeated again. ‘Well, go on, tell me all!’ she said impatiently.
‘That is all. He didn’t say anything else—he left.’
‘I don’t believe it!’ Hope groaned. No wonder Lindy looked dazed. ‘That was one exit line he’ll find difficult to top. Here, have a bit of this cover,’ she added anxiously. ‘You’re shaking like a leaf.’
‘I think I’m in shock.’
‘The big question is, are you in love?’
Palms together, Lindy pressed her fingertips to her lips. ‘I told myself I could cope with an affair, but who wouldn’t be in love with him? He’s as close to perfect as it gets!’
This glowing commendation from her cautious sister brought a furrow of concern to Hope’s smooth forehead. ‘I agree he’s a love, Lindy, but don’t put the man on a pedestal.’
‘I don’t…I haven’t!’ Lindy responded, with a self-conscious flush. ‘I’ve never met anyone like him before. He’s nothing like I imagined.’
‘All the more reason to take things slowly.’
‘Is there any reason why I can’t enjoy the journey?’ Lindy’s eyes twinkled impishly.
‘None that I can think of. In fact, it’s about time you had some fun, sis.’
Lindy got up from the bed. Halfway to the door she stopped and turned back. ‘You know, all I ever expected of this was a sort of holiday romance. I’d convinced myself I could accept it on those terms, but now…! Everything suddenly seems very complicated. I hardly know him! There’s my work and his—long-distance relationships are fraught with problems.’
She chewed her full lower lip and uncertainty flickered across her face. ‘It never occurred to me I’d ever feel I should tell him about Paul and the baby.’ The words came out in a rush. Over the years it was a subject none of the triplets had referred to directly.
Hope’s expression sobered and her eyes were compassionate. ‘That’s up to you, Lindy. I thought you’d stopped feeling guilty about that. You were the victim, Lindy; it was that bastard who should have suffered!’
‘Nothing is that clear-cut,’ Lindy said sadly. If it was she’d be deliriously happy now, instead of being torn apart by conflicting emotions.
Of course it was true that she hadn’t known Paul was married when she’d fallen for him. It was true he’d abused his position of responsibility as her personal tutor at medical school. It was true she’d been a naive, starry-eyed teenager a long way from home, but she had been infatuated and she had thrown herself at him.
It was when she’d told him about the baby that the scales had been torn from her eyes. He’d been furious. He already, it transpired, had a family. It had got very nasty—he’d deny paternity, he’d said, if she made the mistake of telling anyone.
‘It could be anyone’s,’ he’d sneered. ‘The best thing you can do is get rid of the thing!’
The memory of the ugly words still had the power to make Lindy shudder. The humiliation and pain had been agonising.
If her sister Anna’s touring dance company hadn’t been in town at that moment Lindy didn’t know what would have happened. As it was, it had been Anna who had taken charge. Losing the baby so early had meant that nobody other than the three sisters, not even their parents, knew about this episode.
Lindy had lived with guilt over the years, but it hadn’t been the affair itself that had plagued her conscience. There had been a part of her—a small part, admittedly—that had been relieved when she’d miscarried. Her pregnancy had been short, but there had been time for her to acknowledge the growing resentment she felt for the innocent life she carried. Would she be reminded of Paul every time she looked at the baby? The face which she’d once held dear now filled her with disgust. This was something she could never forgive herself for. Every time she saw an innocent child she was freshly reminded of how, in her thoughts, she’d betrayed her own flesh and blood.
She was finding it tough; he could see that. He wanted to make it easier for her, but Sam knew Lindy was too independent to welcome his intervention. Damage limitation meant he wasn’t denying or confirming any of the mad rumours which were circulating. The crew were watching them both like hawks. In fact they’d almost upstaged the Dallas-Lacey debacle completely.
He cursed the fact that his lack of control in front of the cameras meant Rosalind had been thrown into the deep end of the circus that was his life, or a part of it anyway. He closed his eyes momentarily and could recall precisely the rush of blind rage he’d felt when that scummy journalist had leered at Rosalind. Sometimes, he reflected, a man had to be hit over the head before he could see what had been staring him in the face.
Any woman he loved would have to learn to handle the scrutiny of cameras. There were limits to how far he could protect his loved ones. She’d hated it yesterday; disgust and panic had been written clear on her face, he recalled with disquiet. Over the years could that exposure drive a wedge between them? God, what was he thinking about? He reined in his mental scenarios abruptly. There had to be some point when you stopped analysing and started trusting, he told himself angrily. Stop thinking and start feeling, man!
‘About the next scene.’ Sam turned his attention back to Will Gibson who stood beside him.
‘Marvellous ability, that.’
‘What’s that, Will?’
‘Thinking and falling in love. Any mere mortal would let their work suffer, but not our lord and master. I think everyone was expecting a holiday today after seeing you being all brooding and masterful on the telly. Has no one told you a man’s supposed to be distracted and soulful when he’s in love? Nose to grindstone I can take, but this pace is killing me—I’m not a young man!’
‘Neither will I be by the time this movie’s finished.’
Will grinned. He’d bet heavily against a sound technician that it was the sister Sam was interested in, and he was feeling pretty smug, not to mention flush, just now.
‘I hear and obey. Just tell the lady to go a bit more gently on the back next time, will you?’ He chuckled wickedly as Sam shot him a startled look. Deep colour seeped slowly under the younger man’s tan. He’d managed to embarrass Sam Rourke, which was a first, he thought with delight. ‘You wouldn’t take off your shirt for that black and white flashback, dear chap,’ he explained. ‘I was most put out if you recall. My lighting would have been perfect. I know you’re not a coy type so I just put two and two together.’
‘I suppose it’s too much to hope I’m the only person you’ve shared that little tale with?’ Sam recovered his equilibrium swiftly.
A heartless laugh was his reply.
‘I want a word.’
Lindy stifled a shriek as a hand shot o
ut to detain her. ‘You’ve had several,’ she reminded Sam tartly.
Lindy had spent a gruelling hour talking him through a scene where he was meant to perform an emergency tracheotomy. Her attention span had been disastrously short—a fact Sam had shown little understanding for. He’d made several cutting comments when she hadn’t immediately given him replies to his queries about the procedure. The memory of these still brought a flush of anger and mortification to her cheeks. To make matters worse, a lot of people who wouldn’t usually have bothered watching the rehearsal had suddenly developed a great interest in the scene.
By the end of the scene Lindy had decided she must have imagined what he’d said last night. Nobody could be that impersonal, not to mention plain nasty, if he loved you. And that hadn’t been the only thing she’d had to contend with today. There had been the conversations that had stopped the instant she’d come within earshot and the sudden, stifled giggles.
Most of the comments had been light-hearted, but a few had been snide. Ned Stewart had given her a reproachful look that had almost made her want to apologise. She’d realised just in time that she didn’t have anything to apologise for. Well, Sam’s behaviour this morning ought to have dispelled any ideas some people had about preferential treatment!
‘Private words; we need to talk.’
Under the impact of his brilliant blue eyes her aggression slipped silently away. ‘I suppose we do.’ Exhilaration and trepidation fought for supremacy.
‘Meet me at my trailer at, say…’ he glanced at his wristwatch ‘…seven-thirty.’ Without waiting for her reply, he was gone.
Her feet still hadn’t quite touched the ground when she bumped into Magda Gilmour from Make-Up. ‘Love conquers all’ wasn’t a concept she’d ever placed much faith in, but Lindy was determined to give it as much help as she could. She and Sam could have something very special.
‘Sorry, I didn’t see you,’ she apologised.
‘I was looking for your sister.’ Magda had one of those little-girl-lost voices that men appeared to find attractive. The appeal of the soft, high tones was lost on Lindy. This wasn’t a woman she instinctively warmed to; despite the helpless air there was a hardness about the pretty face that she didn’t like.
‘She was looking for you the last time I saw her.’
‘How annoying. I know what you’re going through.’
The statement, out of the blue, captured Lindy’s wandering attention. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I mean, I’ve been in the same situation as you—with Sam.’
Lindy’s expression did not invite further confidences. She recalled some piece of gossip Hope had once relayed that seemed to confirm this assertion. ‘That’s none of my business.’
It was pretty evident that Magda hadn’t stumbled across her accidentally at all. She could almost feel sympathy for the jealousy that could drive a woman to de-mean herself in such a way. I hope this doesn’t get messy, she silently prayed.
Magda gave a sympathetic smile and patted her arm. ‘You’re going to need all your friends.’ She saw the tiny flicker of uncertainty in the English girl’s eyes and continued, in a voice that overflowed with saccharine sincerity, ‘Superficially he’s so warm and charming, but underneath he’s totally ruthless. He uses people—especially women.’
For a split second Lindy felt trapped by her fears. Had she been blind for the second time in her life? But it only lasted for the blink of an eye, then she was seeing Sam the way she had the last few weeks. There were no murky depths to the man she knew—he was painfully open. She mentally shook herself, feeling ashamed for the moment’s weakness.
‘I appreciate your concern, but if I want to know anything about Sam’s life I’ll ask him,’ she replied quietly. She deliberately kept anything which might be construed as aggression out of her voice.
She had a lot to come to terms with herself before she started worrying about a stranger’s jealousy. It didn’t really matter whether Magda’s interest stemmed from malice or mischief because she, Lindy, wasn’t interested.
The dignified confidence brought a flare of anger to the other girl’s face. ‘And you think he’ll tell you?’ She gave a scornful laugh. ‘You think you know all about him, don’t you? Then he must have told you about his kid?’ Malicious satisfaction curved her full red lips as Lindy froze, all the colour seeping out of her skin. ‘I’m not surprised. He doesn’t tell many people. He wouldn’t marry her, of course. He doesn’t even acknowledge the boy! It’s all very hush-hush—it wouldn’t be good for his image at all if people found out.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ Lindy’s lips felt like ice as she forced the words out.
‘Go ask him, then.’
‘Quit bellyaching,’ Sam advised a fellow actor. ‘We’re all hot and we’re all tired.’ He turned to a technician and said something which appeared to galvanise the small group into action.
Lindy ignored the voices that told her they were shooting and walked straight up to Sam.
‘I want to talk to you.’
‘Cut!’ he snapped, turning to her.
Lindy’s whole attention was focused on him. The fact that he was holding onto the shreds of his temper with difficulty made no impression on her. She felt no embarrassment that people were watching her and Sam, waiting for him to blow up. She didn’t even hear her sister’s anxious voice.
Sam looked at her face and his expression shifted from anger to concern. ‘Are you ill?’
She avoided the hand he stretched out. ‘No,’ she denied. ‘I just need to talk to you—now.’ She walked away, leaving him to follow her.
‘Do you want to tell me what this is all about?’ Sam had only paused long enough to give instructions to the crew.
Lindy watched as he closed the trailer door. She realised for the first time that he was in costume. He was wearing a dinner jacket and black tie. He looked watchful, tense, but there was a strong sense that he could explode any moment. Lindy felt strangely objective as she summed him up.
‘I was talking to Magda…’
‘Is that all?’ He visibly relaxed. A grain of irritation even entered his voice. ‘It’s the last time I let sentiment overrule common sense when I employ someone. I can explain about Magda.’
Lindy made an imperative gesture and cut in impatiently, ‘She told me you have a son.’
‘Did she?’
His expression gave as little away as his words, but Lindy knew no denial meant only one thing. She felt physically sick. The blood was thundering in her ears. Please let him deny it, she prayed. Please!
‘Do you, Sam?’ Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Every small detail of the scene was etching itself on her consciousness.
‘I was going to tell you about him when the time was right.’
‘And when would that have been?’ Her voice was brittle and accusing, but it was the expression in her eyes that checked his intent to touch her. She was looking at him with icy condemnation. He recoiled from the rejection he saw there.
‘From your reaction, I’m not sure it would have made any difference.’ The joy was suddenly gone from the day; she was a stranger. ‘Ben is—’
‘You know his name, then?’ she cut in scornfully.
‘Ben is nearly thirteen.’
‘You can do simple mathematics, Sam, but how many of his birthdays have you seen?’
A flicker of something close to pain passed across his face, but Lindy was too caught up in her own orgy of anguish and disillusionment to notice. How could she have been so stupid? She’d been taken in by his charm, but it was all superficial. He was no different from Paul.
‘There are circumstances which make it impossible…’
‘Sure there are,’ she sneered. ‘There always are. Circumstances like your lack of backbone and decency. It’s easy to see now why you left Ohio. You were running away from your responsibilities.’ Her voice rose to a high, anguished cry of accusation.
‘If you’d liste
n for one minute I’d tell you why I was working away from home. We were only eighteen, for God’s sake.’
‘We! I’m surprised you didn’t conveniently forget the mother the same way you did the child!’
Pleading youth and innocence was no defence in Lindy’s eyes. Being young and innocent all those years ago hadn’t meant that she didn’t live with the consequences. If she hadn’t been so young and devastated back then perhaps she’d have been able to say these things on her own behalf, rather than for some unknown woman. The empathy she was experiencing was intense.
‘I have not forgotten Ben or Marilyn.’ He didn’t raise his voice, but every syllable vibrated with hostility. Teeth clamped together in a savage smile, he continued, ‘It’s strange, but I never suspected everything was so black and white to you.’ The look of distaste on his face fanned her anger to further heights.
How dared he look down his nose at her? ‘When it comes to men who desert their children there can be no excuses, no grey areas to hide in. You don’t even have the guts to admit what you did.’
‘You really do like to take the moral high ground, don’t you, Rosalind?’ There was nothing covert about his contempt now. ‘Well, here’s one mistake I’m quite willing to admit. I thought you were a warm, sensitive woman. I just hope, for your patients’ sake, that you allow a glimmer of compassion into your professional life.’
‘I save my compassion for the woman and child you deserted!’ she yelled back. He was turning everything around, making it sound as if she were the one at fault. He was totally shameless.
‘I didn’t desert anyone, but I don’t think that’s something I want to discuss with you.’
‘Because I’m not the gullible little fool you took me for?’
‘You’re certainly not what I thought you were.’
There was an empty finality in his voice that brought home for the first time how much she’d lost. It was never there to lose, she reminded herself. I was in love with a phoney. I’ve found him out and he doesn’t like it—they never do.
‘Then it’s just as well this was nothing but an on-location fling. They’re nothing to write home about, are they? You told me so yourself.’ Her stance defied him to deny the accuracy of her face-saving lie.