From London with Love

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From London with Love Page 35

by Jemma Forte


  ‘If Bernard could hear you now he would be ashamed,’ yelled Angelica, at which point Pam lost control and slapped her round the face.

  ‘Don’t you dare bring my Bernard’s name into it,’ said Pam, her eyes flinty and her entire body shaking with anger.

  ‘Pam, Mom, stop it NOW!’ screamed Jessica. ‘That’s enough.’

  Trembling, Angelica clutched her face then began to weep quietly. Pam still shook with fury.

  ‘Listen to me,’ said Jessica. ‘All of you. I won’t have this any more. Until a short time ago I thought my mom had walked out on me because she didn’t care, but it wasn’t true. Mom was really ill, seriously ill, so give her a break because it’s incredibly brave of her to come here today.’

  Everybody shifted on their feet nervously. Pam looked faintly ashamed.

  ‘I shouldn’t have hit you. That was unforgiveable,’ she muttered.

  ‘And Mom, I know Pam wouldn’t have hidden the letters that you wrote. She’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met and far too honest, so if she had, she would have told you by now anyway. So stop obsessing.’

  ‘OK,’ sobbed Angelica. ‘But I wish I knew who did because they may have changed the course of our lives.’

  ‘Well, I don’t think we’re ever going to find out,’ said Jessica. ‘So we just have to get on with concentrating on the here and now.’

  Just then, Consuela, who had been given the night off and was there as a guest, emerged from the house. Spotting the group, she waved and politely called over, ‘Hi, Mr G, this is a wonderful party.’

  ‘Good, glad you’re having a good time. You deserve it,’ called back Edward.

  Consuela gave him a little wave and staggered back in the direction of the house, clearly a little the worse for wear.

  ‘Her,’ said Pam, staring after Consuela, her face a picture of astonishment. ‘That’s it. Who would have daily access to Edward’s mail? Not me, by the way, which rather puts a spanner in your theory,’ she added, shooting Angelica a filthy look. ‘The answer is staring us in the face. It must have been Consuela and I always thought she was a bit in love with you, Teddy.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, Pam,’ said Jill in frustration. ‘Will you all stop with these ridiculous theories?’

  ‘Why?’ said Angelica ‘I think she may have a point.’

  ‘She does have a soft spot for you, Ed,’ piped up Vincent, who was swaying slightly.

  ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake,’ said Edward. ‘She would never do anything so awful. Would she … ?’ He thought about it for a fraction of a second and then yelled in his best booming baritone, ‘Consuela? Could you come over here for a second?’

  Jessica swallowed. She loved Consuela. It would break her heart to find out she wasn’t quite as trustworthy as they’d always thought she was. This didn’t feel right somehow.

  Up ahead, Consuela turned round and weaved her way back to the group. ‘What is it, Mr G?’

  ‘We were just wondering. When Angelica left all those years ago, did you ever see any letters arrive from her? It’s just that we can’t figure out where they might have got to.’

  ‘No, Mr G, if I had I would have put them to one side, but anyway, Jill usually takes care of the post because only a small bit of it comes here. The rest goes to the office.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ said Edward calmly. ‘Of course.’

  For a second, silence descended while everyone tried to accept the fact they would probably never know the truth behind the letters. Moments later, however, their alcohol-soaked brains seemed to catch up and all raced to the next possibility.

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ said Edward, spinning round to face his manager. ‘I thought only fan mail went to the office.’

  ‘It does,’ said Jill, flapping her hands around. ‘You’re all starting to confuse one another here. Look, for crying out loud, let’s get back inside and enjoy this party of yours, Edward. Come on.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ said Jessica. ‘Thinking about it, Jill, we never got much post here. Usually you bring it with you. Why is that?’

  ‘Yes, why is that?’ repeated Angelica, looking ashen and confused.

  ‘Why do I do half the stuff I do for your father?’ said Jill. ‘Christ, if I didn’t do half the things I did he’d still be waiting tables,’ she added.

  ‘I’m sorry?’ said Edward.

  ‘Jill,’ said Jessica calmly, ‘if you had anything to do with this then it’s time to own up and just tell us. If you care one iota for this family then you have to, because living with not knowing is tearing us apart.’

  ‘I didn’t do anything with any …’ Jill trailed off. The game was up. ‘OK,’ she said, going for another tactic. ‘I did shield Edward from the letters,’ she conceded, ‘but it was for the good of his career and his well being. I spent a long time coercing him out of the slump you’d left him in,’ she spat at Angelica. ‘So when you started writing every five minutes I didn’t want him going backwards. He’d found his feet again but if he’d heard from you he would have taken you back in a heartbeat, which would have ruined his reputation. How can a leading man go back to the woman who left him? Don’t you see? It would have been the end of his career.’

  ‘Don’t you think that was my dilemma to work out?’ asked Edward icily.

  ‘Not really,’ said Jill defiantly. ‘As your manager it’s up to me to look out for you, to protect you and make sure you do what’s right for your image.’

  ‘I’m going to get a drink and get back to the party,’ said Vincent, who looked horrified by what he was hearing. ‘Edward, I think you should do the same. We’ve heard enough.’

  ‘I’ll be there in a second,’ he said stonily, not moving his glare from Jill who was looking more unsure by the second.

  ‘How could you?’ said Jessica, echoing what the rest of the party all wanted to know.

  ‘It was easy,’ said Jill. ‘And I still believe to this day that I did the right thing.’

  ‘Then you’re fired,’ said Edward.

  ‘Over this?’ asked Jill incredulously.

  ‘Oh, yes, and you can tell that producer Brendan to stick his picture up his arse because I won’t be doing it whether they sue me or not. After that I don’t want anything to do with you ever again.’

  Jill shot him the filthiest look she could summon but, knowing she was beaten, stalked back to the house, bristling with resentment and furious to have been caught out.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Pam,’ said Angelica suddenly.

  ‘It’s all right, love,’ soothed Pam, looking deeply sad but like she meant it. ‘We’ve all been through enough. It’s time to put the past to bed.’

  Now Edward turned to Angelica. ‘I’m sorry, Ange.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For doubting you and for all those years we missed.’

  There wasn’t much Angelica could say to that so Jessica went up and wrapped her arms around her mother, enveloping her in a hug she’d never needed so much in all her life.

  38

  Later, as the party started to wind down – early by British standards, late by LA ones – Jessica found herself sitting on a step in her huge hallway, watching Dulcie slow dance with her husband to be. Having finally taken some time to properly get to know Kevin, Jessica had to admit he was an absolute sweetie. He was a wannabe, there was no getting away from that. He was also a little naive and a bit star-struck, but he clearly adored Dulcie for all the right reasons. The two of them were besotted.

  ‘Hey, you.’

  Jessica turned to find Betsey approaching. Her ex-stepmom sat down next to her, and as she did so her skirt rode up until it looked like she wasn’t wearing one.

  ‘Hey,’ Jessica said, vaguely wondering what Betsey wanted. It was unlike her to seek her out. Still, they sat in perfectly comfortable silence until Jessica said, ‘You OK?’

  ‘Yeah, fine. Better than I thought I would be, actually.’

  Jessica swallowed. Maybe assuming that Betsey and her da
d were totally cool about breaking up had been presumptuous.

  ‘So I’m assuming you’ve met someone else,’ said Jessica.

  Betsey turned and looked Jessica square in the eye, an odd expression on her face. ‘You should never assume anything, but you should talk to Edward about it,’ she said eventually. ‘You guys are so close, after all. I thought you shared everything.’

  Jessica was just wondering how to respond to such a defensive, ambiguous answer when Betsey spoke up again.

  ‘Look, I know you don’t like me much, Jessica, but I want you to know that I married your father for all the right reasons, and in the end we let each other go for all the right reasons too. You know, everyone deserves to be adored, right?’

  Jessica nodded. Her dad certainly did. ‘I guess so,’ she said quietly, experiencing another pang for the person she adored. It felt like a lifetime since she’d seen Paul. ‘Betsey?’ she ventured.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I don’t … not like you.’

  ‘Good. I don’t not like you either, and hey, you never know, maybe now Edward and I aren’t together it might be easier for us to be friends?’

  Jessica nodded but didn’t say anything. It might have been easier if she hadn’t dumped her father. As it was, her loyalties lay firmly with him.

  ‘Anyway, I’ll see you around, Jess,’ said Betsey, giving her a slightly awkward hug before slinking off back into the last remnants of the party, her buttocks undulating in her ridiculously short skirt, reminding Jessica of a racehorse.

  Suddenly she felt tired. Tired to the marrow in her bones. She glanced at her phone again, checking for messages from Paul. She missed him so acutely it was almost painful. It was time to find somewhere quiet to escape to. Maybe even go to bed.

  Her shoes were starting to hurt so she took them off and padded towards the kitchen where the staff were clearing up all the food debris and hundreds of used glasses. She got herself a glass of water, said goodnight to everyone and headed for the main staircase. As she reached the landing, however, she heard a sound coming from Edward’s bedroom. Yuk, she thought primly, wrinkling her nose as it dawned upon her that someone was making out in her dad’s bedroom. Gross.

  She wondered what to do, but in the end took a detour down the corridor to investigate. It would be better if she found the culprits as opposed to her dad, who would not be impressed and might well punch their lights out. Edging closer to the door, she felt quite offended as a woman squealed and then groaned, obviously in fits of passion. How dare they come up here? The upstairs part of the house was supposed to be off limits. It was downright rude. Standing there on the landing, she was on the verge of ignoring it when the groaning and panting started to pick up the pace again. At that point she swiftly reached a self-righteous, champagne-fuelled decision. She was going to sling the perpetrators out of her dad’s room. Apart from anything else, she didn’t think she’d be able to sleep with this racket going on only metres down the corridor from her room.

  Determinedly she flung the door open, only to be met with the deeply inappropriate sight of her father in bed with someone (presumably that sneaky nymphomaniac Betsey). Caught in the act, Edward sat up guiltily, but she just yelped and buried down into the sheets, covering herself up.

  ‘Jessica!’ exclaimed Edward, his face on fire.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Jessica mumbled, turning to go. Turning to run. Preferably out of the house and into the ocean.

  ‘It’s not what you think,’ tried Edward.

  ‘Oh, I don’t think,’ countered Jessica. ‘Believe me, I don’t want to give this a minute’s thought ever again.’ She felt a bit sick. Seeing one of your parents ‘at it’ was repellent. No matter what age you were, it was preferable to imagine that you had actually been delivered by a stork and that your own conception had been immaculate. Parents didn’t, shouldn’t have sex.

  Then embarrassment and revulsion slowly gave way to hot rage. What the hell were they even playing at? Making out like a couple of teenagers when the party hadn’t even finished and guests were waiting downstairs to say goodbye. It was so rude. And why had Betsey given her all that crap about being friends? If that was what she really wanted then leading her dad on wasn’t the best way to go about it. And what a jerk he was, falling for that pathetic cry for attention that she was wearing. Freaking assholes.

  ‘We’ll talk about this in the morning, Jessica,’ said Edward authoritatively.

  ‘Fine, I’m going to bed so keep the noise down if you wouldn’t mind, Betsey,’ she said in disgust before turning on her heel.

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, didn’t we agree? No more secrets, Edward,’ a familiar voice spluttered from under the sheets. A familiar voice with a French accent.

  ‘Mom?’

  ‘Jessica,’ said Angelica, timidly pulling back the sheets. She sat up, pulling the covers tightly around her as she did so. Her hair was wild and all over the place but at least she had the good grace to look mortified with embarrassment.

  ‘I’m so sorry you had to find out like this. We have obviously had too much champagne, but I think if you’re going to discover your parents having hanky-panky, better that it is with each other, non?’

  Jessica, who was dying to escape to her room where she planned on smothering her head with a pillow, wasn’t so sure she agreed. Then she started to see the funny side.

  ‘Well,’ she ventured grudgingly, feeling slightly more forgiving now she knew who her father had been seeing to, ‘at least now I can say something I’ve been dying to say for years.’

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Edward.

  ‘’Night, Mom, ’night, Dad.’

  ‘Goodnight, Jessica,’ her parents chorused.

  She shut the door.

  39

  Jessica flew back to England on the Friday night wondering how the next few days were going to pan out. She was glad she had the whole weekend to hang out with Paul and recover from her jet lag, but knew it was to be punctuated by a few confessions to her workmates, her resignation and a dinner party at Mike and Diane’s, all of which she could probably have done without. On the plane she reflected upon everything that had happened, wondering where she could even start when it came to telling Paul about her trip. Her parents were officially back together and, though she fervently regretted finding out in the way she had (la la la la la), she was pleased. She was scared too, of course, and worried about what might happen if it didn’t work out, what it might do to them all, but also ecstatic that they were giving it a go.

  In one way she was quite sad to be leaving already. She hadn’t seen everyone she’d wanted to see and could have done with a couple more days with her parents. Her parents – using the word in the sense of a couple was so alien. In another way she was proud that, after only a matter of months of living in another country, she had so much to get back for. Her time in England wasn’t over yet, but she knew now for sure that one day she’d be coming home. It was just a question of when. Once or twice she’d indulged in fantasizing about Paul coming with her, but knew he’d probably never leave his family, so when it came to that particular issue she preferred to stick her head back in the sand.

  It was weird, Jessica mused, one eye on the movie; now she knew it was Edward who had fallen for somebody else, the person she was left feeling sorry for was Betsey. Throughout her marriage to Edward she must have sensed she was competing with something unbeatable, which probably explained much of her demanding behaviour, maybe even her quest for a baby. Her mind flitted back to Paul. Even if there was the slightest chance she could still be with him years down the line, would they be strong enough to weather all the strange, terrible and wonderful things that life would inevitably throw at them? After all, her parents were the perfect example that love alone wasn’t always enough to bind people together once life had shoved one if its spanners in the works.

  The minute she landed at Heathrow in the early hours of Saturday morning, all Jessica could think about was reaching P
aul, which was why, one long tube ride later, when she finally arrived at his flat, she was puzzled and a little disappointed by his lukewarm greeting.

  ‘Hey, you,’ she said, flinging herself towards him as he opened the door.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, scooping her up. They kissed and she felt exquisitely happy until a sixth sense made her pull away.

  ‘What is it? Are you OK?’ she questioned, noting apprehension in his expression.

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get you and that big bag in.’

  But Jessica had travelled too far and been through too much to let anything lie, even for a second.

  ‘Wait,’ she said, feeling panicky, and remaining rooted to the spot in the hallway. ‘Seriously, what’s up? I can tell there’s something and I don’t want to spend the whole day wondering what it might be so just tell me. Please?’

  Paul looked terribly uncertain and Jessica knew then for sure that something was causing him inner turmoil. One of the things she’d always found so attractive about him was his underlying vulnerability, which right now was paddling worryingly close to the surface.

  ‘Please tell me,’ repeated Jessica shakily.

  Paul sighed. ‘It’s nothing, Jess. It’s just … while you were gone, Natasha made a few weird comments about stuff. Stupid things that I’m sure she’s probably bullshitting about anyway.’

  ‘Like what?’ she demanded to know, cold dread worming its way round her belly.

  ‘Just silly stuff,’ dismissed Paul, regarding Jessica thoughtfully for a second before admitting defeat. Finding out the truth had to be preferable to being eaten up by suspicion. ‘OK, Natasha said that you gave her this thing which enables you to get free designer shoes or something. Anyway, she went to the shop and they wouldn’t let her take anything because it was registered to someone else’s name. She was really peeved about it and then said that before you went away you and Mike kept having chats about stuff in his office.’

  Jessica opened her mouth to explain but Paul continued.

  ‘She looked in his diary and there was a note which said “ask Jessica if she’s free on 14th October ” … or something like that,’ he said casually, trying not to look as though he’d remembered it verbatim, which he had. ‘Anyway, I’m sure there’s some explanation. Or maybe he just knows another Jessica?’ he suggested hopefully. ‘Because obviously there would never be anything going on between you and Mike, would there?’

 

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