Valentine was about to refuse, but then the thought of spending a day obsessing over Finn and Jack prompted her to agree. At first as they set up the stall she still felt under a dark cloud, lethargic and miserable, but Frank's good humour and good nature was infectious. He sold a mixture of jewellery, some total tat and some quality on his stall, which occupied a prime location on the Portabello Road outside a row of antique shops. He knew everyone as he'd had his stall for years, so she was forced out of herself, to chat and joke with Frank's friends. Frank was a fantastic salesman, bantering with the customers, telling the girls they were beautiful, while trying to strike a deal with them.
As if sensing Valentine's mood he gave her plenty to do so she couldn't brood, sending her off to get bacon rolls, getting her to display the jewellery and then to hold it up for the customers and take the money as his arthritis was particularly painful that morning. Valentine felt chastened next to him. She could tell that he was in pain, but he kept going; his good spirits never faltered. By lunchtime some of the dark cloud was lifting from her and she realised that she was enjoying herself. It was a cold, crisp day but the sun was shining – she loved these sorts of days.
'Hello!' trilled a familiar voice. Valentine looked up from the tray of silver rings she was busy arranging to see Lily, arm in arm with Jack. Her heart skipped and the sun seemed to shine brighter. 'This young man called round for you and I thought I'd bring him to you,' Lily continued. She looked very glam in her full-length black sheepskin coat and white fur hat. It was mink, though she always pretended it was fake. She refused to get rid of it, saying it had sentimental value as it had been her mother's, and it was better to keep her head warm than clog up a landfill site and add to global warming. Valentine doubted that anti-fur protestors would see it like that, but she had given up trying to argue with Lily.
'Hi Valentine,' Jack said. 'I was in your area and I thought I'd drop by. You don't mind, do you?'
Valentine smiled and shook her head, aware that Lily and Frank were watching her like a pair of hawks – subtlety was not the old timers' forte.
'In your area?' Lily sniffed. 'How unromantic! Why don't you just admit that you wanted to see her?'
'And why wouldn't you want to see her, a lovely girl like Valentine?' Frank put in loyally.
Valentine shrugged. 'My number-one fans,' she said ruefully.
Jack smiled, 'OK, I wanted to see you.'
'That's more like it!' Frank said gleefully. 'Life's too short to go beating round the bush! You like a girl, you tell her! Now who wants some coffee? It's brass monkey weather and I for one could do with some warming up.'
As Lily and Frank fussed over the cups, Valentine finally felt able to talk to Jack. 'I'm sorry about last night,' she said quietly. 'It was something Tamara said, something to do with my past, and it sent me on a bit of a downer.'
'Something you want to tell me about?' Jack asked sympathetically.
Valentine shook her head and fiddled with the tray of silver rings, 'Not just yet if that's OK.'
'That's OK.' Jack replied.
Valentine expected Jack would simply have coffee and leave; instead he spent the afternoon with them and proved himself to be a master salesman, especially with the ladies. No surprise there, Valentine thought, watching a couple of young girls buying far more than they had intended as Jack told them how good the necklaces looked on them. He was such a charmer. Frank was delighted as he cleared far more stock than usual, and insisted that Jack and Valentine come round for supper that evening.
'You don't have to if you don't want to,' Valentine told him as they walked the short distance back to the house, each lugging a large wooden jewellery case. Lily and Frank were walking ahead and safely out of earshot.
'No, I'd like to,' Jack replied. 'Frank and Lily are great and anyway, I want to see you.'
'So you don't think I'm a mentalist?' Valentine asked.
'Not too much,' Jack teased her. 'Borderline, I'd say.'
'Cheeky bastard!' Valentine shot back, trying to swipe a punch at him. And as they bantered away, the events of the night before – the mad dash to Finn's house, the furtive sex in his car – receded into the back of her mind like a bad dream. She was back to feeling confident and flirtatious.
Spending any length of time in Frank's flat always made Valentine feel stoned, even if she didn't have a joint, as the unmistakable sickly sweet tang of dope was everywhere. She stuck to vodka while Jack accepted one of the super-sized joints Frank had rolled earlier. 'You'll regret that,' Valentine told him. 'It will knock you out.' As she knew only too well from past experience.
Jack rolled his eyes. 'I'm a big boy; I can cope and I'll still be ready for whatever you've got planned for later.'
He winked at her while Valentine laughed and said, 'You won't be fit for anything once you've finished that. You'll be away with the fairies and not in a good way.'
Half an hour later Valentine's prophesy was fulfilled. Jack was laughing hysterically – at what? Valentine had no idea, while Frank and Lily looked on indulgently.
'Did you give him the strong stuff ?' Valentine suddenly asked.
Frank nodded. 'I wanted to see what he was made of.'
'I can't believe you did that!' Valentine exclaimed. 'He's going to be wasted!'
Frank shrugged. 'He'll be all right.' They all looked on as Jack stopped laughing and stretched out on the ancient leather Chesterfield.
'I think the roast is done,' Lily declared.
Valentine tried to get Jack to come to the table to eat but he shook his head and grabbed her hand. 'Come here baby, lie down; we can look at the ceiling rose. It's amazing.'
Valentine laughed. 'It's a lovely offer, but I'm going to have dinner. I did warn you about the dope!'
'I'm fine!' Jack protested sleepily. But she slipped easily out of his grasp and joined Lily and Frank at the table.
'I might have had designs on that young man,' she said cheekily as Lily handed her a plate laden with roast chicken and vegetables. 'He's going to be good for nothing now!'
'We had to see if he was good enough for you!' Frank replied, tucking into his roast potatoes.
'And what's the verdict?' Valentine demanded.
'I like him,' Lily declared. 'Of course, I quite liked Sam in his suit and his briefcase.' Lily's face assumed the dreamy expression it always had whenever Sam's accessory was mentioned. 'But Jack will pass. No, more than that: I think he's lovely. And he thinks you are too – I saw him looking at you, Valentine. He's totally smitten.'
'No way!' Valentine replied, feeling secretly delighted. 'So what did you think, Frank?'
'Well, he knew nothing about free jazz,' at which Valentine and Lily shared a mutual eye-roll – nor did they. In fact whenever Frank insisted on playing it, it always made Valentine feel as if she was going mad, because of the lack of a discernible pattern in the music. 'But he seems sound.'
From the sofa, Jack was snoring loudly.
'Just as well then, isn't it?' Valentine replied, spearing a carrot. 'Seeing as how you're going to be spending the night with him.'
'No worries, I've got a spare duvet and if he wakes up I'll find out what his intentions are towards you. I'm not having another gutless bastard ruin your life.'
'I would hang on to this young man,' Lily told her as they cleared the table after supper.
'What, even though he's a total lightweight?' Valentine joked back.
'Valentine, I'm serious,' Lily replied and she looked it. She also looked very pale, Valentine noticed. 'I know you think you still have feelings for Finn.'
Did she? How did she know that? Valentine tried not to give anything away. Lily had an unerring ability to know things about her. She had often speculated to Lauren about the possibility of Lily being a white witch. 'But he's not the one for you. He never was, or he would never have treated you so appallingly. Jack's different – he's got integrity; he would never do something like that.'
'And you can tell that from o
ne meeting?' Valentine asked sceptically.
'Yes I can,' Lily replied. Then she winced, a spasm of pain contorting her face. She put out a hand to steady herself on the kitchen table.
'Are you all right, Lily?' Valentine asked, instantly concerned.
'Yes, yes, it's nothing, just a bit of indigestion. You get off now. We'll send Jack up if he becomes conscious.'
8
The Ex Factor
'Can I cook you dinner to make up for last night?' Jack asked as they travelled on the bus to rehearsals the next morning. Even hungover and unshaven he still looked sexy – if anything more than ever, because he had that just-rolled-out-of-bed look. 'I can't believe I passed out like that,' he added sheepishly. 'I hope Frank and Lily don't think I'm a complete tosser. They're cool, by the way.'
Valentine laughed. 'I did warn you that it is very strong stuff. And yes, OK to dinner,' she said more cautiously.
'Good,' Jack replied, sounding pleased. 'I feel like I need to eat something healthy and you look like you need to eat something.'
Valentine gave him a sceptical look. 'Yeah, I'm just wasting away, aren't I? I'm surprised there aren't news articles devoted to the disappearance of Valentine Fleming.'
'Just don't go all extreme on me; you're gorgeous the way you are,' Jack replied, giving her one of his appraising looks. There was a pause in conversation where Valentine was aware of his gaze and felt as skittish and shy as a teenager.
'So can you cook?' she asked.
Jack nodded. 'I've been told my puttanesca sauce is unsurpassed.'
'Was this by one of your older ladies?' Valentine said cheekily.
'I haven't forgotten what happened last time we had this conversation,' Jack replied, raising his eyebrows meaningfully.
Nor had Valentine. She felt hot all over just thinking about it.
'I thought I'd ask Rufus, Kitty and Toby as well,' Jack continued. And Valentine couldn't help feeling slightly disappointed that it wasn't going to be just the two of them.
'Mmmm that was absolutely delicious!' Toby exclaimed, leaning back contentedly in his chair. 'I just hope I'm still going to be able to fit into my costume!'
'Me too,' Rufus replied.
'It's OK for you, Valentine; you don't have that problem, do you?' Kitty put in wickedly. The five of them were sitting round Jack's dining table. Crammed would be a more fitting description, as the table was tiny and it was almost impossible to sit round it without brushing against someone else. Valentine had given up trying to move her leg away from Jack's and was secretly enjoying the feeling of his thigh against hers.
'Ah, but Valentine didn't finish hers; what was wrong with it?' Jack demanded in a deliberately bad French accent, folding his arms and adopting the pose of a top chef.
'It was lovely,' Valentine answered, hoping she didn't have any basil caught in her teeth – not a good look. 'I'm just trying not to eat too much at the moment.' And it had been delicious, but the combined forces of the prospect of the nipple tassels and Jack so close to her had effectively suppressed her appetite. He had cooked Italian and even though it looked delicious Valentine had not been able to manage more than a few mouthfuls. Damn Finn for putting her off her favourite food.
'Well, you must have some of my tiramisu,' Jack declared, getting up to clear the plates away. 'It's home made.'
'Is there no end to your talents, Jack?' Kitty asked, winking suggestively at Valentine. Valentine stuck her tongue out. It had not taken the other actors long to detect the undercurrent of attraction, or more accurately raging torrent running between Valentine and Jack – even though she had told Kitty several times now that nothing had happened.
'Nothing's happened yet,' Kitty had said meaningfully.
'Are you taking Jerry Hall's mantra to heart then?' Kitty continued now, 'A maid in the living room, a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom? Your flat is very tidy, you're a very good cook and dot dot dot.'
Jack laughed. 'I've got a merciless landlady, which is why the flat is so tidy. And I never kiss and tell about the bedroom.' He was looking at Valentine and she stared right back at him, wondering just what he would be like in the bedroom. In his lovely bedroom, with the honey-coloured stripped wooden floors, the silver art deco fireplace, the king-size bed with the wrought iron bedstead, painted in the white distressed fashion that Valentine had always loved and dreamed one day of owning. In the meantime the only distressed thing in her flat was herself.
'Anyway, great view.' Valentine was the first to drag her eyes away and look out of the bay window at the stunning view of the London skyline, Canary Wharf winking conspiratorially in the distance. 'It almost makes me like North London.'
'God, you're as bad as Lauren! West Londoners are so judgemental!' Jack shot back. 'You're going to have to spend a weekend up here and then you'll change your mind. We can go out for breakfast, go for a walk on Hampstead Heath and end up at the Everyman watching a film. And you'll be converted.'
'Sounds like a tempting offer, Valentine. You can get to sample all Jack's talents,' Kitty said mischievously.
Valentine ignored her and held up the bottle of red, 'More wine anyone?'
After dessert – also delicious, apparently, as Kitty, Rufus and Toby practically licked their plates clean while Valentine passed again, given it was another Italian job – the others were very unsubtle about leaving Valentine and Jack alone together. Kitty booked a taxi for the three of them and when Valentine asked if she could share it, Kitty said that they weren't going anywhere near her, which was a blatant lie. Then the three of them practically sprinted out of the flat.
'Stay for one more drink,' Jack asked her, as she was about to call a taxi.
'Just one,' she agreed. 'I'm in at nine tomorrow with the Twirlies and I don't want to be hungover.'
Jack poured her a glass and they both sat on the sofa (on the lovely, comfortable cream sofa – no springs going into buttocks here, unlike her sofa, which doubled as an instrument of torture). It had been over a week since Tamara's party, where they'd both made their feelings for each other obvious – a week that had been so hectic with rehearsals that they hadn't been alone together. But Valentine remembered vividly what it had felt like in Jack's arms, how wonderful it had felt to be that wanted and desired.
'Cheers,' Jack said, clinking his glass against hers. 'Here's to getting to know each other better.'
It was such a corny line and Valentine wanted to come back with a witty reply, but found that she couldn't. She did want to get to know him better.
'Sorry that was such a cheesy line,' Jack groaned, putting his glass down on the table in front of him and frowning. 'But it's true. Of all the plays in all the world, I'm very glad you're in mine, Valentine Fleming.' Another corny line, but Valentine let it go. 'So am I,' she replied quietly, taking a sip of her drink, as desire pulsed through her.
'Put the glass down,' Jack said softly.
'Why? Do you think I've got a drink problem?' Valentine shot back, but her heart was racing as Jack shook his head, took the glass away from her, and pulled her towards him. It was a very practised move, her head told her, while her body said yes and so what? Then it was kiss number three.
Desire had freed Valentine from her inhibitions. She put her hands up to his hair and ran her fingers through it, which was what she'd been dying to do ever since they'd met. Then she slipped them under his T-shirt, along his thankfully hair-free back (though frankly right now she was feeling so turned on she wouldn't have cared if she'd discovered hair neck to toe), feeling his smooth, warm skin as he expertly undid the buttons on her black silk shirt and caressed her breasts. She moved her hands round his neck and gently pulled him down so he was lying on top of her and she could feel the whole of his body against hers. He kissed her breasts, sending fireworks of pleasure shooting round her body. She longed to feel him and she boldly reached down and caressed him through his jeans, feeling his hardness. She felt very sexy as she popped open the buttons on his jeans. He in
ched up her skirt and Valentine thanked God that for once she was wearing hold-up stockings and not her usual eighty-denier black tights, which were about as alluring as – well, she couldn't think right now because of what Jack was doing to her.
'You look so sexy,' Jack murmured, kissing her thighs just above the stocking and then kissing her inner thigh, then higher and higher. Valentine lost herself in the feel of his lips against her skin. Then he broke away to kiss her mouth while his fingers caressed her through her underwear in tantalising circles. Jack knew what he was doing. Then he was gently sliding her silk briefs down and Valentine was pushing his jeans down and saw he really did have a fantastic big cock. The old saying that size didn't matter had never held true to Valentine. It bloody did. But by the look of it Jack had no worries in that department.
Suddenly the door buzzer went off, shattering the moment of intimacy. Jack groaned, 'Just ignore it; it's bound to be someone ringing the wrong bell,' and sensing that Valentine was going to move he once more kissed her, silencing her protests. 'God, I want you so much,' he said, looking into her eyes. And she wanted him so much, really she did, with an intensity that almost took her breath away, and she was about to tell him when someone, a someone who sounded a lot like Julia Turner, knocked loudly on the front door and called out Jack's name.
'I'm not going to answer it,' Jack murmured, kissing her again. But now the someone who was unmistakably Julia was hammering on the door and shouting. 'Fuck!' Jack exclaimed with feeling. 'I'll have to speak to her or she'll wake up the whole house. But don't move,' he ordered Valentine as he reluctantly peeled himself off her body and buttoned up his jeans. 'I'll get rid of her.'
Bloody Julia Turner! Did she have an inbuilt radar for detecting when women were getting close to Jack? Valentine heard him open the door and tell her to calm down. Julia was still shouting and she sounded drunk as she slurred, 'Jack, please, I just need to talk to you and then I'll go.'
Valentine Page 10