Jack's lips twitched and for a moment he was back to being the Jack she used to know. 'You're such a liar, Fleming. I bet you'll just go home and sink a bottle of wine with Lauren. Who's she seeing now, by the way?'
'Still Nathan. I swear I won't be surprised if they end up getting married, though I never thought I would see that day. If she makes me be a bridesmaid and wear something vile in violet, I'll hunt her down and kill her!'
Jack held her gaze for a beat before replying, 'Well, I'm glad it worked out for them.'
All the way home in the taxi Valentine tried to figure out if there was a subtext to Jack's words. Had he put an extra emphasis on the word them and did he mean therefore that it was a pity it hadn't worked out for him and Valentine? Or was he simply happy for Lauren and Nathan because he was a genuinely nice person? Then again, he had called her Fleming, as he used to when they were together. So could that mean he was thawing towards her? Just a little bit?
The following day however it was back to arctic conditions. Jack was distant with her, avoiding her when they weren't working on the script, but at the end of the day he sought her out. 'Valentine, can we talk?' No hint of flirtation in his voice.
'Shall we go for coffee?' she asked. He shook his head.
'No time; I have to go in a minute. I just thought we needed to clear the air and we didn't seem to get a chance yesterday. So here goes.' He avoided eye-contact as he spoke. 'I'm sorry for the way I behaved that night at the premiere. I was a dickhead.'
'Well, you had your reasons I suppose,' Valentine muttered.
'The fact that you slept with Finn—' they both winced at the mention of his name – 'didn't give me the right to behave like that. I just wanted to say that I hope we can be friends during the filming. We both need this to go well. So can we be friends?'
Valentine longed for the return of the flirtatious banter. Jack sounded so formal. She wanted to say, 'I can't be your friend because I still love you.' But Jack had left her no room for manoeuvre; there was nothing to indicate that he still had deeper feelings for her. Self-respect dictated that she agree they could be friends.
'Good, I'm glad that's sorted,' he replied. 'I'll see you tomorrow.'
This cool detachment became the pattern of their behaviour over the next month as they filmed. They were unfailingly polite to each other; Valentine didn't even make any more sarky remarks about Tamara. But the strain of keeping a lid on her feelings was almost unbearable. Practically every night she would dream about Jack, deeply erotic dreams of unfulfilled desires. Typical! Even her dreams conspired against her and every time she was about to do the deed with him she would wake up. Sometimes Valentine wished Jack would be horrible to her, as at least that showed that he cared enough about her to be angry. But the shutters had well and truly come down and every day that went by Valentine had the feeling that he was slipping further and further away from her.
18
Lily's Divers
Valentine had thought that they were at least a month away from filming the love scene; somehow she hoped that she would have more perspective by then. So it was a shock when at a production meeting Jamie announced that they'd be filming it at the end of the week. 'The whole feel of the series is going to be slick and sexy, and I would like the love scene between Frankie and Daniel to reflect that. Basically I'm asking you guys to push the boundaries.'
Valentine had a sudden wish that she had one of those ejector chairs and she could press the button right now and eject out of there and straight into a production meeting for a lovely classic drama, say Pride and Prejudice, where there would be no talk of pushing the boundaries on sex scenes and only a heaving of well-covered bosom or extra clenching of male jaw to indicate arousal. She looked down at her script as if the answers would magically appear there, but all it said was Frankie and Daniel 'kiss and then make love'. There wasn't even an adjective – not a passionately, wildly, frenziedly to be seen. Valentine could only hope for a 'quickly' right now and 'in the dark' would also be good.
'So can we rehearse after we finish filming today? To map out the moves and get a feel for how the scene will roll?' Jamie again.
'It will be hard having sex with you at the end of the week as it's totally out of sequence,' Valentine tried to banter with Jack as they walked out of the meeting. 'Frankie still mistrusts you.'
'Won't that give the scene an extra frisson?' Jack replied, moving closer to her in the corridor to let someone get by. Just having him near was giving her an extra frisson; God knows how she would cope with simulating sex with him. She'd probably combust with suppressed longing.
'I suppose so,' she answered, aware that her voice sounded slightly higher-pitched than usual.
'It'll be OK, Valentine. It's just a scene like any other and they'll cut it up so it looks all moody and arty and nothing much will be on show. It's not going to be Last Tango in Paris.' Valentine had never cared for the infamous pack-of-butter sex scene but were Jack to be involved in such an act, she realised she just might change her mind . . .
'Or Don't Look Now,' she squeaked, appealing in vain to her vocal cords to be husky.
He frowned. 'Have you got a sore throat?'
She shook her head. 'I'm just nervous Jack, aren't you?' Really his I'm-not-bothered act was getting too much to bear.
Finally he nodded. 'What do you think?'
* * *
'Cut! Jamie called out. Frankie/Valentine was lying on the bed, Daniel/Jack had just been kissing her breast. Valentine remembered reading somewhere that they sometimes needed to fake erect nipples on set with a judicious application of cold water or blast of cold air. Her nipples didn't need any help in that department right now.
Daniel/Jack rolled off her and turned to face Jamie, while Valentine folded her arms across her chest. 'I'm sorry to do this to you, but can we go from the top? I promise I won't stop you again. I just need the first kiss to go on for longer.'
After one more take they were done. She had kissed and caressed her ex-lover, felt his body on hers, had been practically naked, had sat astride him, had felt him on top of her, had felt quite a bit of him actually – she was sure that didn't happen in other love scenes – had faked an orgasm (now that had never happened in real life with Jack). The one thing she didn't have to fake was the moment when they gazed into each other's eyes and Daniel/Jack said, 'I love you.'
'I love you too,' Frankie/Valentine replied, willing Jack to mean his lines. And Valentine longed to add, 'I've never stopped.' But Jamie called out, 'Cut.'
'Are you going to Lily and Frank's party?' Valentine asked as they sat up in bed and she did up her shirt – now this really did feel weird.
'Yes, I said I would, so I'll see you later,' Jack replied, pulling on his T-shirt. He stood up and looked back at her, a definite warmth in his brown eyes. 'So how was that for you, Fleming?'
Finally there was a flirtatious edge to his voice; she decided to play along. 'Good.'
'Just good?' Jack replied. 'So you didn't find that a mindblowing, bone-melting sexual experience, up there as one of the best ever?'
Oh God, he was using the same words he had when they'd first made love all those months ago.
'OK, fantastic then,' Valentine replied, in an echo of her own words. Now the memory was in full high-definition and surround-sound in her mind – she and Jack were lying wrapped up in each other's arms after the most mindblowing, bone-melting, sexual experience ever. Jack was teasing her, holding the duvet off her and she was freezing. They were both laughing, knowing they were at the start of something wonderful.
Jack held her gaze. 'Fantastic is the right answer.'
It was time to step out from the past and into her present. 'It always was, Jack,' she said softly.
His 'Yes,' was barely audible as he turned to go. 'See you at the party.'
'I don't bloody believe it, V! He's given you a hickey!' Lauren exclaimed as she examined the purplish-red bruise on Valentine's neck later that evening as they got read
y for Lily and Frank's party. 'I bet that was because he was so full of suppressed longing and he had to let it out somehow, without getting jissum on your leg.'
'Nathan! Can't you do something with her? She gets worse.'
Nathan held up his hands. 'Apparently not.'
'Honestly! The face of an angel, the mind of a sewer rat!' Valentine exclaimed again, watching Lauren perform a twirl in her silver beaded flapper-style dress.
'So, do you want me to cover up your love bite?' Lauren asked, holding up a jar of concealer.
Valentine considered the mark in the mirror, 'No, I'll leave it as it is. It's the only thing Jack's given me in a while, so it can be my badge of honour.'
'So did he have a massive hard-on in the sex scene?' Lauren persisted.
'I would never kiss and tell,' Valentine replied coyly, but when Nathan's back was turned she made an appropriate hand gesture and mouthed 'massive' to Lauren. Ah well, she'd had to bare her soul and most of her body to a roomful of strangers and simulate sex with her ex; she was allowed to see the funny side of it.
While Nathan and Lauren went on ahead to the party to check everything was in place for Frank and Lily's big night, Valentine travelled in with Lily and Frank. Lily insisted on the taxi dropping them off at Piccadilly even though it was a fifteen-minute walk to Ronnie Scott's and she didn't seem up to walking any distance at all.
'I've got something to show you,' Lily said mysteriously as the taxi pulled over and they got out. 'Look up there,' she urged Valentine, pointing to the top of a building on the corner of Piccadilly and Haymarket. Valentine looked up and saw an entrancing art deco sculpture – three sleek, gold, female figures diving from the roof. 'That is one of my favourite sights,' Lily told her. 'Whenever I feel down I hop on the number seventy-three and gaze at my beautiful divers. They always pick me up. I think they're telling me that life is full of possibilities and you must dive in it. Don't you feel that too, V?'
The trio stood in silence for a few minutes looking up, while all around them people hurried on their way, oblivious to the beauty above them. Valentine took a deep breath. I am going to be golden and lithe of spirit, she told herself. Lily is right; life is to be dived into. And then it came to her. She had to tell Jack she still loved him. It came to her so clearly – a perfectly formed thought from nowhere – as if it had been hovering somewhere in space and only now had shape to it. It didn't matter if he didn't give her the chance – she had to make that chance. It was now or never.
Valentine was thrilled for Lily and Frank when she saw how many people had turned up to their party. It was touching to see so many old timers, all decked out in their best clothes. Lily and Frank of course looked the most stylish: Lily, channelling a fifties starlet in a long gold dress, matching silk gloves that went up to her elbow and a white fur stole; Frank in a pinstripe suit and trilby hat looking like he was auditioning for a part in GoodFellas. A jazz band was playing and it promised to be a brilliant party. But there was no sign of Jack.
'He'll be here, Valentine, don't you worry,' Lily reassured her, doing one of her mind-reading acts. 'Didn't I tell you that tonight was a celebration of love?' Lily seemed better than she had in a while, but there also seemed something feverish and desperate about her as if she couldn't wait for Valentine and Jack to get together. Valentine put it down to Lily's incorrigible romanticism.
She spent the early part of the party hanging out with Lauren and Nathan, endlessly scanning the room for Jack and drinking a lot of champagne. What with the love scene and then getting ready for the party she'd had no time to eat and the fizz was going straight to her head. Every time a tall dark man walked into the club her heart beat that little bit faster in case it was Jack. But by eleven she had decided that he definitely wasn't coming. Disappointment washed over her. They had finished the champagne and really she'd had enough, but she had the demon inside her and instead of switching to water as she knew she should, she headed off to the bar for vodka. As she wove her way slightly unsteadily through the partygoers, Robbie, the student from the off-licence, appeared at her side.
'Hiya,' he said a little shyly. 'Long time no see, ma'am.'
'Well good evening Robbie,' Valentine replied in her Southern Belle accent, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
'Can I get you a drink?
'Why yes, even though I don't usually hold with hard liquor, I could manage a vodka and tonic.' Valentine swayed and Robbie grabbed her arm. 'Thank you, Robbie.' She stared at him, trying to focus on his boyishly cute face; he really wasn't bad-looking at all. True he was blonde and she didn't ordinarily go for blondes, but he was very sweet actually, with lovely skin. She would love skin like that! So what if he was too young for her? He wouldn't judge her so harshly after one mistake and then run off with a film star and break her heart. No, he would be loyal and good and true. Oh God, she really was drunk. She gave another lurch and Robbie put his arm round her waist and she leaned against him gratefully.
'Look, why don't you sit at this table and I'll go to the bar,' Robbie said, steering her towards a chair. Valentine sat down – she was starting to get that spinny-head feeling but it was better than obsessing about Jack. Robbie returned with a double vodka that Valentine found went down surprisingly quickly and he obligingly went off for more supplies. He sat down next to her and gazed at her with undisguised longing and asked all about her new role. Valentine babbled away. It was so good talking to someone who seemed interested in her, so nice to see the longing in Robbie's eyes – or maybe that was her vodka-head talking; who knew, who cared? Jack clearly didn't. Bastard! She was very drunk.
'I've really missed seeing you around, Valentine,' Robbie mumbled. 'I was wondering if we could go out some time – you know, just you and me. I could take you for dinner.'
'That would be so sweet!' Valentine exclaimed, reaching out and stroking Robbie's hair. Really she couldn't resist it; it looked so shiny and clean. He really was very cute. Robbie took that as an invitation to latch lips with hers and then he thrust his tongue eagerly into her mouth. It was not a good kiss. It was like being assaulted by one of those fish that are kept in aquariums to keep them clean by sucking up all the dirt. She managed to pull away and swore she could hear suction sounds as she disengaged her tongue. She sat back, wondering if he would notice if she wiped her mouth.
'That was nice, but d'you know what? I'd love a cigarette. Have you got any, Robbie?'
He looked flushed with excitement as he shook his head. 'I've given up. I thought you didn't like being around people who smoked.' He moved towards her lips, ready to re-engage.
Valentine moved sideways. 'Oh no! It doesn't bother me at all. Can you get me one?' She put her hands together and leaned forward, treating Robbie to a front-row view of her cleavage – a cheap trick, but she had to get rid of him. 'Please.'
Robbie looked as if he'd much rather stay where he was, but he managed to tear his gaze away and promised to get her a cigarette. Whoops, what had she got herself into? Time to take stock and repair the damage Robbie had inflicted on her face. Out of the corner of her eye Valentine saw Lauren laughing at her. Valentine stuck her tongue out (her poor, violated tongue) as she made her way to the ladies'. The floor seemed to be undulating, which made walking in her heels tricky. Valentine felt rather proud of herself when she finally made it to the bathroom. She'd only fallen over twice – not bad. She was just squinting at her reflection in the mirror when Lily accosted her. 'What do you think you're doing with that young boy!' She sounded outraged.
'Havingadrink,' Valentine replied. 'What'stheproblem?'
'The problem is that you are throwing away your chance of happiness with Jack. What are you going to do when he turns up and sees you in the arms of another man?' Lily had drawn herself up to her full height and looked extremely formidable.
'Lilyhe'stheonewithagirlfriend,' Valentine replied.
'He's only with her because of what you did!' Lily shot back. Valentine was impressed by Lily's ability to
understand her when she was having difficulty understanding herself. 'I could have been with Frank for the last thirty years instead of the last ten. We made such a mistake staying in our marriages. I know you look at me and think my life is nearly over and I should be knitting or collecting china figurines of Disney princesses or thinking that EastEnders is the highlight of my day just because I'm old, but I still feel the loss of those years in here.' At this Lily clasped a hand to her heart. 'Don't throw it away!' she said again, with tears in her eyes.
Lily's outburst had a dramatic sobering effect on Valentine, who put a hand up to her own face and found that it was wet with tears. 'Oh Lily, don't you see? I've already thrown it away – I did that when I slept with Finn. If Jack had any feelings for me he would have turned up tonight. The most I can hope for is to be friends with him.'
'No! I won't let you say that! Come on, sort yourself out. I know that Jack is up there now.'
'Have you seen him?' Valentine asked, getting the heart-racing feeling, worse than usual because she was drunk.
Lily shook her head. 'No, I just feel it.' She fussed around Valentine for the next few minutes, applying face powder, taking off the red lipstick that Valentine had so drunkenly applied. 'You looked more Coco the Clown than Coco Chanel,' she told her as she wiped it off, leaving just a subtle red stain on her lips. She stood back and surveyed her work. 'Much better now.' She took Valentine's arm.
Upstairs Lily paused by the bar and looked around. Even though Valentine just knew that Jack wouldn't be there, she was still disappointed when they drew a blank. Even Lily looked slightly crestfallen and usually (the last scene in the bathroom excepted) she was the queen of optimism. 'He'll be here,' she insisted, steering Valentine away from Robbie, who was frantically gesticulating with a cigarette, and installed her at a table as far away as possible from him.
'Right young lady, I'm getting you a glass of water and a black coffee, so stay here,' Lily told her and headed back to the bar.
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