From London with Love

by Jemma Forte

  ‘Mom, it’s me. I have a huge favour to ask.’

  33

  ‘But how did you do it?’ Kerry asked Jessica for the third time in a row.

  ‘We-ll … I just think you’ve made a really good impression with her people whenever you’ve spoken to them in the past,’ improvised Jessica, wishing Kerry would just accept that Angelica had agreed to come on the show and be pleased.

  ‘And she really doesn’t want paying?’ repeated Mike. ‘Because that I just don’t get. Her manager must have known they had us over a barrel.’

  ‘I know, plus I’m amazed you even knew she was back in the UK again,’ spluttered Kerry. Angelica Dupree was the best possible replacement guest and how Jessica had swung it with one phone call was a mystery. It would be a world exclusive.

  ‘Look,’ said Jessica, who was starting to regret helping them out, ‘it was a long shot, I know, but she’s coming and it wasn’t a big deal. Like I said, I think Kerry had already done the groundwork and I just happened to call at a good time.’

  The expressions she was met with were all fairly dubious.

  ‘Anyway, shouldn’t we be getting on? Telling people and stuff? She … her manager wants us to organize a car to pick her up from Claridge’s as soon as possible, if that’s OK?’

  ‘Is that OK?’ exclaimed Mike. ‘I should bloody say so. Jesus, if she wants I’ll go there myself and give her a piggyback.’

  Jessica stared at the ground and tried to suppress a grin. The thought of her elegant mother spreadeagled across Mike’s back was too much.

  ‘Paul and Natasha,’ Kerry exclaimed, as shock subsided and professionalism kicked in. ‘They’ll need to start thinking about links and questions. Mike, would you mind telling Bradley and then Paul, and I can brief him as soon as we’ve worked things out?’

  After that it was full steam ahead. Everybody sprang into action, including Jessica, her mind spinning as she busied herself attending to the other guests while trying to figure out how best to use this situation to her advantage. Half an hour later, she found herself scuttling surreptitiously towards Bradley’s dressing room, a half-formed plan dancing on the edges of her brain. As wound-up as a sprung coil, she tapped on the door.

  ‘Come in.’

  ‘Um, hello,’ said Jessica nervously, sticking her head round the door.

  ‘Hello,’ said Bradley, who was dressed immaculately from the waist up, but had yet to put his trousers on to prevent them from creasing. Though, thankfully, he did have his pants on. ‘What can I do you for, young lady?’

  ‘Um, well, I’m sure you’ve heard about the change to the guest line-up,’ she began timidly.

  ‘Yes, funnily enough they did think it worth letting me know.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Jessica, still not entirely sure what she was doing. ‘Only I wondered if I might be able to suggest a couple of questions for –’ She stopped mid-sentence. Kerry and Paul were coming down the corridor, clearly on their way to see Bradley.

  ‘Spit it out,’ said Bradley, looking puzzled. ‘Questions for whom? Old Heavenly Jugs?’

  ‘Er … no, don’t worry,’ said Jessica, aghast. She gaped gormlessly at Bradley who was looking vaguely nervous, probably wondering if she was a threat to security. ‘Um, I’ll leave you to it,’ Jessica said, before darting back down the corridor in the opposite direction to her boyfriend and her boss.

  Paul had seen her though, and called out, ‘Everything all right, Jess?’

  ‘Fantastic,’ she yelled back, trying not to sound too deranged before scurrying away, her face hot with embarrassment. Damn it. Oh, well. That was that then and maybe it was for the best. She felt angry for having got carried away in the first place.

  Ever since she’d seen Angelica at Claridge’s she’d been harbouring the crazy notion that her mother still had feelings for Edward and today she’d let that thought get the better of her. Before she knew it she’d found herself wondering what would happen if Angelica was confronted with the subject of Edward on TV. Under pressure, would she reveal how Jessica suspected she really felt? If she did admit to having feelings for him, surely there was no way Edward would be able to ignore what she’d said? Then they’d have to speak. Or was the whole notion that her parents needed the past reconciled all in her head?

  Forcing her mother’s hand in such a public way was probably an ill-conceived idea and, if she really thought about it, her motivation was probably highly dodgy. It was just that she’d always yearned to have a proper family, which in her mind involved two parents who loved, or at least liked each other, but it was too late. She was twenty-six years old, for goodness’ sake. Far too old to be lusting after a game of happy families. Plus there was the small matter of Betsey. Her stepmother might be annoying (and far too young for her dad), but she was harmless enough, Jessica admitted guiltily. Certainly more bearable than Graydon at any rate.

  As she wandered round the circumference of the busy studio, Jessica sighed resignedly. It looked like she’d be spending a lot more time with Monkey Fingers in the future so she’d just have to learn to live with it and accept that she couldn’t change the past. Forcing herself to breathe deeply, Jessica decided to ignore everything she should be doing and headed for the relative peace of the production office.

  The only person in there was Natasha, who was busy typing out Bradley’s new questions.

  ‘All right, Jess. How did you swing this one then? Kerry can’t believe it and if you want my opinion I reckon you’ve pulled a few strings somewhere. Reckon you’ve got more than one friend in a high place, if you know what I mean?’

  Jessica played dumb. Being around Natasha always made her faintly nervous, but if she slipped off again now it would only make things worse. Ignoring what she’d said, Jessica sat at her desk to check her emails.

  Natasha stopped typing and flexed her fingers. ‘I hate doing things so last minute. What do you reckon to these questions then? I thought first Bradley should ask why she hasn’t been on a chat show for so many years. Then talk about her new movie. Then ask about the differences between the American, British and European film industries and which she prefers. What her favourite Bond film of all time is, obviously, and what she remembers of her time as a Bond girl? I can ask Kerry to ask her if she’s got any interesting anecdotes.’

  ‘They sound great,’ said Jessica neutrally.

  ‘I know they’re not very spicy, but Kerry said she doesn’t want any personal questions. Miserable old bitch.’

  ‘Not wanting to talk about her personal life doesn’t automatically make her miserable or a bitch,’ remarked Jessica icily.

  ‘All right, keep your wig on,’ replied Natasha, unperturbed. ‘Right, that’ll have to do. Knowing Bradley, he’ll probably make it up as he goes along anyway, or spend half an hour banging on about her tits.’

  ‘He should ask how she feels about Edward Granger these days. Maybe ask if they’re in touch at all and, if not, why not?’ said Jessica on impulse. Maybe she hadn’t quite given up on her hare-brained idea after all.

  ‘Are you deaf, Bender?’ replied Natasha, looking at her like she was some kind of moron. ‘I just said she doesn’t want to talk about personal stuff.’

  ‘Well, that’s not what she said when I was … talking to her agent,’ challenged Jessica.

  ‘Tell me what it is,’ said Natasha, narrowing her eyes.

  ‘What what is?’

  ‘Whatever it is you’re not telling us,’ she said suspiciously. ‘I see you having little powwows with Mike all the time and I also seem to be the only person round here who thought it was a bit strange when you pulled a celebrity mate out of the bag. And now you want to risk your job by getting Bradley to ask probing questions. So what’s the story?’

  ‘There isn’t one,’ said Jessica defiantly, though her stricken face said otherwise.

  Natasha wasn’t convinced. ‘Mmm, maybe I should start doing a bit of digging. Or ask Paul why you’re so bothered about what Bradley asks An
gelica Dupree who, by the way, I’m pretty sure knows Vincent Malone, doesn’t she? Yes, of course she does,’ she said almost to herself as she started to tentatively put two and two together. ‘So there’s a link somewhere.’

  Not for the first time that day, Jessica’s mind started to run away without consulting her properly beforehand. Moments later, she found herself resorting to blackmail for the second time. ‘Look, Natasha, there isn’t anything going on at all. I swear there isn’t, but if you promise to butt out then you can have this. Look,’ she said, rummaging frantically in her bag and finally producing the bit of card that had been languishing in there for weeks. It was the invite for a shopping experience at Jimmy Choo’s.

  Natasha made a grab for it. ‘Oh my God,’ she said, handling it like it was the Holy Grail itself. ‘Is this for real?’

  ‘Yes,’ Jessica said firmly.

  Natasha’s eyes grew wild and huge. ‘You’d better not be mucking me around, Bender,’ she said, sounding vaguely threatening. Obtaining some Jimmy Choos was quite clearly a matter of life and death for her. ‘I mean, where did you even get this?’

  Jessica swallowed. ‘From … Dulcie,’ she improvised.

  ‘Mmm,’ said Natasha thoughtfully. ‘Well, thanks, though you know it makes me wonder even more about you. I mean, why would Dulcie give you this? She looks like a girl who likes her shoes, if you ask me.’

  Jessica shrugged. ‘She’s got plenty of money to buy them.’

  Finally Natasha stopped speculating long enough to have a quick think about which side her sartorial bread was buttered. ‘Well, frankly, if you’re giving this to me then I don’t care if you’re a drug-dealing, pre-op alien who’s harbouring a known criminal in your house while having an affair with the boss and living here with no passport.’

  ‘Ri-ght …’ said Jessica uncertainly. ‘Well, I’m not – and I have a passport, thank you.’

  ‘Great,’ said Natasha, still sounding vaguely uncertain. She was simply too cynical to accept the fact that thousands of pounds’ worth of shoes might just have fallen into her lap. ‘Look, I need to go and check something with Kerry about one of the other guests. Are you cool to print the questions out for me and stick them on to cards?’

  ‘Not a problem, leave it with me,’ Jessica called after her departing back. The door slammed shut, leaving the office feeling eerily calm. Jessica sat fretting about what she’d just done. She would have to call Jimmy Choo’s PR girl to make sure she knew Natasha had been given the invite from her or they wouldn’t let her use it. Though buying Natasha’s silence with Jimmy Choos was probably the equivalent of putting a plaster on a wound that needed stitches. It was a very short-term solution, she knew, but right now she didn’t have much other choice. Besides, everyone was going to have to know the truth about everything sooner rather than later anyway, and as long as Paul was the first to know it didn’t really matter any more. As soon as the show was over and she’d got back from her dad’s party she was telling Paul … everything.

  This last thought pootled slowly away like a Sunday driver only to be replaced by a boy racer of an idea that screeched into her head with a handbrake turn. Jessica leapt to her feet. The questions. It must be fate, but still briefly she procrastinated. If she stopped to consider her mom’s feelings she knew she probably shouldn’t be meddling. Angelica was an intensely private person, hence the lack of publicity all these years, and she wasn’t sure if her mother could cope with being bombarded by insensitive questions from Bradley of all people. Then she thought of her dad and of all the wasted years the three of them had spent wondering about what might have been. Surely they had nothing to lose by facing up to a few truths, and everything to gain?

  Ten minutes later and Jessica had added a couple of choice questions of her own to Natasha’s, before mounting them on to cards. Then she dashed back downstairs to studio one and personally delivered them to Bradley in his dressing room. On her way out she bumped into Natasha.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Natasha demanded to know. ‘I’ve been looking for you. I only asked you to print the questions out. I was going to give them to Bradley. That’s my job.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Jessica, praying Natasha wouldn’t insist on going in to check them. ‘Bradley’s very happy with them anyway,’ she said, ‘but he asked for five minutes’ peace before he has to go on set … by the way, you do know that Jimmy Choo make incredible bags as well as shoes, don’t you?’

  Natasha narrowed her eyes. ‘If I find out this is bogus I’m definitely telling people there’s something dodgy about you.’

  ‘Well, you won’t have to,’ called Jessica, who by this time was running backwards down the corridor. ‘Why don’t you go to the store on Saturday?’

  ‘Right,’ called Natasha, looking sceptical, but Jessica didn’t have time to worry about her any more. Racing through the studio, she charged up to the gallery where Ross, the technician, was busy loading all the clips and VTs that would be played out during the show.

  ‘Ross,’ said Jessica, looking vaguely demented, ‘is there any chance you could run off an extra DVD of today’s recording for me?’

  ‘Shouldn’t really,’ he replied, ‘but seeing as it’s you, why not? What do you want it for?’

  ‘Oh, just as a memento of all you guys,’ Jessica ad libbed airily. Ross seemed satisfied by her answer, however, and after giving her a thumbs-up got back to reading the Sun and scratching his nuts. Secret mission completed, Jessica returned to the studio at a more civilized pace. She was halfway there when she realized she should probably start breathing again.

  Meanwhile on set, word was out that Angelica Dupree was going to be giving her first proper interview in years and a small crowd had gathered around Kerry to congratulate her on saving the day. She was refusing to take the credit though.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ she said, having spotted Jessica. ‘I’ve been trying to tell this lot that getting Heavenly Melons on the show is all down to you, not me.’

  By this point Jessica was starting to feel terribly uncomfortable. Phoning your own mother was hardly much of a stretch and when Paul, who she hadn’t initially noticed was in the group, proudly picked her up and twirled her round, breaking his back wasn’t the only thing she was worried about.

  Half an hour later and Angelica Dupree herself was in the building. By now Jessica had decided to hide out of the way completely. She knew she could depend on her mom not to give away the fact they were related, but wasn’t so sure she could rely on her own rather more dubious acting skills to continue the pretence. She was also on tenterhooks about how Angelica would handle Bradley’s questions and how she herself would cope when people realized the questions had been meddled with.

  In the meantime, Kerry had assigned herself the task of looking after Angelica. Daniel Craig was already ensconced on set, so Jessica got on with making sure everyone else was happy. Once the show got underway, however, everyone was so focused on Daniel Craig’s interview that Jessica finally felt able to poke her head round Angelica’s dressing-room door.

  ‘Pssst! Mom,’ she whispered.

  ‘Darling,’ replied Angelica. Sitting alone at the big dressing table, she looked rather vulnerable, but delighted to see her daughter. ‘Everything OK?’

  ‘Fine,’ said Jessica, ‘but I can’t stay. I just wanted to say thank you. You’ve helped save Kerry’s neck and I appreciate it.’

  ‘Pas de problème,’ replied Angelica, genuinely pleased to be of help, even if she was dreading going on. ‘By the way,’ she added, ‘I met Paul.’

  Jessica raised her eyebrows questioningly, dying to know what she thought.

  ‘He seemed très, très nice,’ said Angelica sincerely. ‘He was extremely professional and charming, and I got the impression he is very bright. Handsome too.’

  Jessica nodded, delighted by her mother’s seal of approval. Then she remembered tampering with Bradley’s questions and her grin vanished like a cardigan slipping off the back of a chai
r. ‘So anyway, good luck, Mom,’ she said, backing nervously out of the door. ‘I’ll be watching, but I should go now before anyone sees me.’

  With that, she gave Angelica a grateful but slightly guilty smile and a wave, before slipping back into the corridor. Checking first that no one was around, she shut the door behind her.

  The show was fantastic. Daniel Craig was the perfect guest, entertaining, witty and fabulous-looking. For once Bradley stuck to the script, probably in part because he was so star-struck himself, and the programme got off to a sizzling start.

  After Daniel Craig it was Christopher Walken’s turn, then Dame Judi and John Cleese. Bradley would be talking to Angelica last. As the show slowly progressed, stopping and starting for cameras, sound and on several occasions for Bradley, Jessica’s nerves mounted. When she thought of how her mother’s kindness was going to be repaid with a grilling from Bradley, she felt horribly guilty. After all, if ever she’d needed a sign that her publicity-shy mom truly loved her, agreeing to appear on the show was it, the ultimate gesture.

  Across the walkie-talkie Jessica could hear through the crackles that Kerry was being instructed to fetch Angelica from make-up. At this point her nerves gave way completely and she decided that she couldn’t bear to watch from the sidelines where she was presently standing. Nor did she wish to be watching on a monitor anywhere near other people. Then she had a brainwave. She snuck out of the studio and down the corridor until she reached Bradley’s empty dressing room. No one would find her in here. She darted in. Her disappearance would probably annoy Kerry, but she was prepared to take that risk.