'We're not important enough for her,' Lauren whispered to Valentine. 'But what the fuck, let's get some champagne.' She quickly got the attention of one of the waiters and they each took a glass of champagne from the tray he offered. As a stroke of luck, Lauren recognised him from one of her castings and managed to persuade him to leave them the bottle. 'And keep them coming,' she winked at him.
'Will do, Lauren,' the waiter said adoringly.
'Tell me you didn't,' Nathan demanded when the waiter had trotted obediently off to get Lauren more champagne and a tray of sushi.
'Could have,' Lauren replied, narrowing her beautiful blue eyes, 'but I chose not to.'
Conversation flowed easily between the four of them. Lauren clearly liked Jack, as she was particularly cheeky to him, taking the piss out of him for falling for the fluffers lie, which was always a sign that she approved of someone. The time to worry about Lauren was when she was coolly polite.
It was a good fifteen minutes before Tamara got round to saying hello to them, making them fully aware of their position in the status stakes, not that any of them cared. 'Hi guys! I'm so glad you could make it!' Tamara exclaimed, sweeping over to their group, a vision of loveliness in a Grecian-style white silk dress. There then followed the obligatory introductions and air-kissing rituals, where Valentine couldn't help noticing how Tamara's gaze lingered longest on Jack. Even though nothing had happened between her and Jack, she felt a sudden flash of jealousy.
'So how are you Tamara?' Lauren asked her, summoning their waiter over for yet more refills.
'Absolutely exhausted,' Tamara declared. 'I've been filming back to back for the last six months!'
She didn't look tired, Valentine thought bitterly; she looked as good as ever. She might possess very little acting talent, but Tamara's stunning good looks meant that the camera loved her face with her huge blue-grey eyes, regular features, shoulder-length honey-blonde hair and a naturally petite body, which she kept small through rigorous exercise and dieting. Though she did have one Achilles heel – her arse was really quite large for someone with such a small frame. Valentine and Lauren had been known to call her Five Mile Bottom behind her back. Tamara was extremely conscious of it, hence the floaty number that disguised it. Arse aside, Valentine even at her thinnest – a size ten as she was now – always felt like a cart horse next to the miniature Tamara. Instinctively she crossed her arms over her chest, feeling self-conscious that she was revealing too much cleavage in her low-cut figure-hugging black dress. Lauren rolled her eyes at Valentine. They both knew what was coming next: time for Tamara to revel in their lack of work.
'So what have you two been up to? More theatre work? It must be so lovely doing stage; I've really missed it.' And without waiting for their reply she pressed on, 'I've said to my agent that when I've got a decent break between films, I would so love to do some stage. Film just isn't the same; I really want a role I can get my teeth into.'
'Perhaps you could be in Chicago,' Jack put in. 'They're always looking for guest stars.' And Valentine wanted to kiss him for puncturing Tamara's bubble.
'Oh no!' she exclaimed, looking horrified, 'I meant serious theatre, darling! You know, like Nicole Kidman appeared in The Blue Room!' She looked most put out and curled her lip petulantly. Then Valentine saw her give Jack another appraising look as she clearly decided to give him a second chance. She tilted her chin up and looked coy. 'So what would I have seen you in? You look very familiar.' Lauren had been spot on in her comment that Tamara would fancy Jack – she probably fancied Nathan too, but he had his arms draped round Lauren and had eyes only for her.
Valentine grabbed another glass of champagne from their waiter, who was hovering nearby, neglecting his duties to gaze at Lauren. She'd been wrong to listen to Lauren and come to the party. She could feel her self-esteem plummeting; any minute now she'd be attacking the canapés. Jack might have said that Tamara had no talent, but he couldn't fail to be impressed by her looks, her wealth and her connections. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Tamara's famous movie-star mother holding court. Still a beauty in her late fifties, she had however seriously OD'd on the Botox. Her face was almost completely immobile; probably she had to hold up flash cards to indicate what emotion she wanted to express.
Valentine turned back to Tamara and Jack. Was it her imagination or had Tamara moved closer to Jack? So close in fact that one of her small, perky breasts, small enough to be bra-free, was nearly brushing against his arm.
'I'm sure you must be a fantastic Bottom!' Tamara giggled, and Valentine had to fight the temptation to grab the tray of exquisite sushi and throw it all over her shiny, poker-straight (it bloody would be, wouldn't it?) hair. 'You must tell me when the play's on and if I'm not in LA I'll come and see it.'
'I think we're sold out,' Valentine lied.
'Really?' Tamara replied, wrinkling her perfect little nose in disbelief. 'Well, if you say that I want to come then surely they'll be able to russle me up a ticket.'
'Actually, I don't know if they can,' Jack put in. 'Fire regulations, you know.' And Valentine gave him a warm smile, thrilled that he clearly hadn't been taken in by Tamara. At that moment Tamara's attention was claimed by one of her starry guests, Lauren took Nathan off to meet someone she recognised and Valentine and Jack were left alone.
Jack smiled and whispered, 'She's a bit up herself, isn't she?'
'She's very pretty, though. With her luminous skin. And tiny birdlike frame,' Valentine replied. She was tempted to add that she had a massive arse, but thought it made her sound too bitchy, so she kept it zipped.
'I'll give her that,' Jack agreed. 'But nothing like as pretty or as sexy as you in that dress.' He was gazing right at her. He was so delicious. Valentine felt light-headed from desire. Or maybe, she tried to tell herself – not very successfully, given the feelings of lust that were fizzing round her body – it was the fact that she hadn't eaten all day, and the no-carb rule she had imposed on herself because of the nipple tassels was really getting to her. She could imagine it being responsible for many an affair as carb-deprived women lost the ability to think rationally. And there was the fact that she still hadn't heard from Finn.
'Aren't I a bit too young for you?' she bantered back. 'What with your liking for the older ladies.' Before Julia, Jack had revealed that he'd been out with another forty-something actress.
Jack shrugged. 'Older ladies can be more appreciative and you can always learn something from them.'
'Yeah, but I bet there are some drawbacks. They're not exactly honeymoon fresh anymore, are they?' Valentine said cheekily and instantly regretted her words.
'Now, now,' Jack replied, laughing. 'Isn't that being unsisterly? Or are you trying to draw my attention to your much tighter, fresher—'
Valentine frantically interrupted him. 'Just forget I said it, please!'
'I can't!' Jack said, laughing. 'Now all I can think about is your—'
Valentine put her hand over his mouth, but Jack continued trying to talk. His lips felt gorgeous. He held her wrist and moved her hand away. 'I won't say another word about your superior anatomy if you kiss me.'
Valentine hesitated, then stood on tiptoes and lightly kissed him on the lips. A kiss that he returned. And the kiss, which she had hoped would stop something, was turning into a hot, hard kiss of desire. It was irresistible, but somehow Valentine found the strength to pull away and she realised that she had wrapped her arms round Jack's neck, and that she'd been pressing her body against his. Bad, very bad. And far too good. She moved away as if she'd been scalded, then tried to pull some gestures as if nothing had happened, flicking back her hair and taking a sip of her champagne. But Jack wasn't going to let her get away with it; he leaned right over to her and whispered, so she could feel his warm breath against her skin. 'And now I just want you even more. Come back to my flat.'
Valentine nodded, not giving herself time to think of all the reasons why she shouldn't.
'I'll just grab us
a bottle of champagne,' Jack added, looking for their waiter. Valentine felt as gloriously fizzy as the champagne, bubbling up with happiness and desire and anticipation. But then Tamara sidled over to her.
'Guess who I saw last week, Valentine?'
Valentine shrugged. She was certain it was not going to be good news for her. It wasn't.
'Finn!' We were both at Adrian's thirtieth.' (Adrian was another actor who owed his career to his famous parents.)
'Oh.' Valentine tried to keep her expression neutral, but she could feel the happiness she'd just experienced beginning to slip away. Tamara always had that effect on her. She was like one of the Dementors in the Harry Potter books, sucking all the joy out of her.
'Yeah, he's doing really well, isn't he? And Eva is looking so gorgeous. Do you know, I think she's lost even more weight.'
Valentine's happiness levels fell fifty per cent.
'And they've just got engaged.' And kept falling. 'Apparently Finn proposed the day after Valentine's Day. Funny that he didn't do it on Valentine's Day, isn't it? Oh course, I remember now! Valentine's Day has bad memories for all of you, doesn't it?' Happiness levels down to zero. Job done, Tamara.
'What are you two talking about?' Lauren demanded, walking over to them. She was a little the worse for wear; her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glinted dangerously. She'd taken off her gold sandals – her long vintage green silk dress trailed on the floor and was already a little grubby, but she still looked stunning.
'Tamara was just updating me about Finn,' Valentine said, trying to keep her voice steady. 'Apparently he's engaged.' She felt utterly miserable now and just wanted to go home.
'That was nice of her,' Lauren said insincerely. She turned to Tamara. 'Thanks for a lovely party, Tamara. Good luck with getting that part in Chicago. Spanx can do wonders with big arses nowadays.' And not giving Tamara the chance to answer back, Lauren took Valentine's arm and practically frogmarched her out of the room. In the hall she muttered, 'I'll go and round up the boys. Meet me outside. You need to get away from Toxic Tamara.'
Valentine grabbed her coat. Outside the cold March air was like a slap in the face. I must not think about Finn, she told herself, digging her fingernails into her palms and shivering in her fake fur. A few minutes later the others emerged from the house. As Lauren ran down the steps she gleefully opened her coat and revealed two bottles of champagne, which she'd lifted from the party. 'Come on, let's get a taxi back home and we can crack this open.'
'You're very quiet,' Jack said to Valentine halfway through the taxi ride home. He had quickly realised that Valentine was in no mood to come back to his. While Lauren had been chatting away about the people she'd met, laughing about the actress who wouldn't even eat the olive in her Martini for fear of putting on weight, and about Tamara's mother, who'd tried to chat up Nathan, Valentine hadn't said a word. In her head she'd gone back a year ago to the night Finn had chosen his girlfriend over her, despite telling her that he loved her. She suddenly felt as vulnerable and raw as if it had been yesterday. The confident, teasing, flirtatious persona she had adopted with Jack lay in ruins.
'I'm just tired,' she lied.
'Not too tired to drink Tamara fucking Moore's champagne!' Lauren interrupted, brandishing the bottles of Dom Perignon in the air.
'Actually too tired even for that,' Valentine replied and she saw Jack look at her, clearly wondering what had happened to change her mood so dramatically. He was perceptive, she had to give him that, and when they drove past Paddington station Jack asked the taxi to stop, saying that he was going to call in on some friends.
He hesitated at the door and Valentine wondered if he expected her to go with him. Then he simply said, 'See you on Monday, Valentine. Cheers for inviting me tonight,' and waved to Lauren and Nathan.
Back home Lauren, sensing her friend's mood, tried to get Valentine to have a drink with them, but Valentine refused and shut herself up in her bedroom. Champagne was not going to make her feel better. The memory of kissing Jack and of the feel of his body against hers did not make her feel better. As soon as she was alone she reached for her phone and texted Finn, her resolve not to contact him overtaken by events. She had to know if he really was engaged. Please call me, I really need to speak to you. Vx. She suddenly thought of Piers – he hadn't wanted her and now Finn didn't want her either. She felt completely worthless. She switched on her laptop, convinced that the SGF would have posted up a message about such dramatic news. She was trembling as she logged on and took several attempts to type in her Facebook password. Please don't let it be true, she thought, biting her nails as she went first to Finn's page, where there was no mention, and then on to Eva's. There was nothing. But that wasn't enough for Valentine.
She paced round her room, wishing she had some cigarettes. She had to speak to him. She jumped when her phone beeped with a text message; it had to be Finn. But she was bitterly disappointed when it was from Jack, asking her if she was OK. Fuck, this was no good; she couldn't stand it. She had to speak to him and if he wasn't going to call, she was going to have to go to his house. She didn't stop to consider that Eva was bound to be with him, as she grabbed her coat and tiptoed out of the flat.
Outside, the temperature had fallen even lower and it had started snowing. Valentine shivered as she walked briskly to Westbourne Park Tube station. She sat on the train in a perfect cocoon of misery, oblivious to the other passengers. She had been feeling slightly drunk from all the champagne, but Tamara's words had sobered her up. At Richmond she got a taxi to Finn's place. He owned the top-floor flat in a Victorian house. She hesitated for a few seconds as the taxi pulled up. Did she really want to do this? But the thought of not knowing drove her forward. She paid the fare and positioned herself on the opposite side of the road to Finn's flat, in the shadow of a large horse chestnut tree. The lights were still on and she could see people sitting round the dining table in the bay window. Finn was entertaining. It was probably his fucking engagement party. Once more she reached for her phone and texted him: I am outside, I have to see you now. Vx.
God knew if he would even get the text that night. She shoved her hands into her pocket wishing she was wearing gloves; she was freezing and the snow was falling more heavily. But after a few minutes her phone rang.
'V, where the hell are you?' he was whispering and sounded like he was walking down a flight of stairs.
Valentine told him where she was and watched as he emerged from the flat and quickly crossed the road. He looked angry as he approached her.
'Christ, we can't talk here! Eva mustn't see you. Come on, my car's round the corner; we'll go and sit in that.'
He swiftly strode down the street, not bothering to wait for Valentine, and unlocked his pride and joy – a silver Audi TT convertible that had been a twenty-first birthday present from his doting mother. Valentine had zero interest in cars and only knew what model Finn's was because he'd gone on about it enough times when they were together.
'You pick your moments, V,' he said as she slid into the seat next to him.
'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drop you in it. It's just that I saw Tamara Moore tonight and she told me.' Valentine paused; she really didn't think she could bear it if what Tamara had said was true. She had been living in the hope that one day soon she and Finn would be together.
'What?' Finn said impatiently.
'That you're engaged,' Valentine said quietly.
Finn burst out laughing. 'No fucking way! That woman is a complete fantasist!'
'So you're definitely not?' Valentine asked, feeling a small glimmer of hope force its way through the misery. 'Tamara said Eva told her you had proposed the day after Valentine's Day.'
'V, I swear I didn't. Come here.' He put his arm round her and pulled her towards him, even though it meant the handbrake was digging painfully into her thigh. Then he kissed her. She had always thought Finn was a great kisser, but somewhere in the back of her mind came the thought that he wasn't actually as good a
s Jack and unlike Jack, whose eyes had stayed open, Finn's were closed. Valentine suddenly felt as if she could have been anyone. He slipped his hand inside her dress and began caressing her breasts, not particularly gently. Then he murmured, 'Do you remember the last time we were in this car together? How about it? They think I've gone to the off-licence, so I've got a few minutes.' Valentine did remember; she had nearly put her back out.
'It was so good, V. I always think of you when I'm in the car. I've really missed you, baby. Take your knickers off.' What followed was apparently very good for Finn, judging by the groans he made, and not quite so good for Valentine, who was in a very uncomfortable position, and kept banging her head against the car roof. She was paranoid that someone would see them and think they were dogging and that really was not Valentine's scene. And then because they didn't have a condom Finn had to withdraw, and came all over her silk dress, which was dry-clean only. It was too cold in the car to stay and chat. Valentine had at least hoped for one 'I love you', but Finn was clearly anxious about getting back to the party.
'V, I'll see you soon,' he said, slamming the car door. 'It would be better if you went ahead.'
She should have been glad that Tamara's little bombshell had turned out to be a lie, and happy that Finn still wanted her. Instead, as she curled up in bed later that night, she felt used. Jack had texted her again: Are you okay? Jx. She didn't want to lie so she ignored it. She so wished she hadn't gone to Tamara's party and been poisoned by her. Jack must think that she was a complete mentalist – kissing him passionately one minute then pushing him away. Thank God she didn't have to face him tomorrow as it was Sunday. Maybe by rehearsals on Monday she would have worked out how to explain her behaviour – and worked out her feelings for him.
She was all set to brood the following day, but at half eight (after just four hours' sleep) Frank knocked smartly on the flat door. 'Sorry to wake you,' he said cheerfully, 'But I wondered if you wanted to come and help out on the stall. It's going to be a nice day and there should be plenty of tourists. There'll be thirty quid in it for you.'
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