Someone Like You

by Cathy Kelly

  ‘Fine,’ she said with the frosty manner of a duchess.

  He left smiling and, as he shut the door behind him, David turned and gave Hannah a rowdy wink that could clearly be seen by everyone else in the office. Honestly, he was incorrigible, she thought crossly.

  The rest of Friday passed in a blur and, at the thought of facing a Felix-less weekend at home, Hannah decided to work on Saturday morning. It was that or spend the day feeling like a balloon with the air let out of it. Hannah didn’t know why she felt so empty without him. She’d lived quite happily on her own for the past year and a half, so why now, a mere month after meeting Felix Andretti, had he become such an important part of her life? Why had all the things she enjoyed doing up to now, like going to the gym or sitting in her small, cosy sitting room reading, seem dull and hopeless?

  ‘I thought you’d given up working weekends now the place is shipshape,’ commented Donna when Hannah arrived in the office at eight fifteen on Saturday morning.

  ‘I have a few things to get organized and it’s so busy during the week that I never have a chance,’ Hannah replied, bending over the bubbling percolator so that Donna wouldn’t see her tired eyes and the dark circles under them. She’d planned to camouflage her misery with make-up in the ladies’ loo, thinking that she’d be the first in. But now that Donna was here, she’d have to talk. Donna was one of those people who noticed things. Hannah didn’t want her noticing the palpable misery she knew was emanating from her like radioactivity from plutonium.

  Yawning deliberately to make it look as if she’d had a late night, Hannah picked up her coffee and her handbag and made for the loo. ‘Must tart myself up or I’ll frighten the clients,’ she said nonchalantly. ‘Remind me never to drink too much Spanish wine again!’ she added ruefully.

  ‘Drowning your sorrows?’ Donna said gently.

  Hannah stopped and looked at her. Donna wasn’t inquisitive or the office gossip, for that matter. Just someone intuitive.

  ‘That obvious, is it?’ Hannah said finally.

  ‘Only that you looked pretty wretched yesterday. Not that anyone else would pick up on it,’ Donna added hastily. ‘You hide it well. But I recognize that look; I’ve had it often enough myself. If you want to talk, be my guest. I won’t be broadcasting to the Gillian Network. And if you don’t feel like talking, that’s fine too. I thought you might need a shoulder to cry on yesterday when we went out to lunch, but I can understand you wanting to keep your private life private.’

  Hannah put down her handbag and her coffee and sank into the nearest chair. ‘You have to have a life to keep it private,’ she said, trying to joke.

  ‘Is it David James?’ Donna asked gently.

  For a moment, Hannah was startled out of her misery. ‘David?’ she repeated in astonishment. ‘Whatever gave you that idea? He behaved like a complete asshole yesterday, but, God, that’s all. Nothing I can’t manage. Typical boss.’

  ‘Oh,’ Donna said. ‘I’d rather got the impression that there was something between the two of you…’ Her voice trailed off as Hannah gaped at her.

  ‘Where did you get that idea?’ demanded Hannah. ‘He’s good to work for, but there’s nothing between us.’ She cast around wildly for words to describe her relationship with David, words to explain how platonic it all was. ‘He’s a nice man and all that, but, really…And he’s still besotted with his ex, isn’t he?’ she added.

  Donna raised one eyebrow. ‘I don’t know where you got that idea. I don’t think there are two people on Earth who were happier to get shot of each other. A marriage made in hell was how I heard it described, by someone who knows them both.’

  ‘Gillian said he was still in love with her.’

  ‘Gillian desperately hopes he’s in love with his ex because then he can’t fall in love with anyone else…like you, for example,’ Donna said shrewdly.

  This time Hannah laughed out loud. ‘How ludicrous.’

  ‘It isn’t ludicrous at all,’ Donna protested. ‘I’m not the only one who thinks David is keen on you and Gillian wouldn’t be able to stand it. She hates you, you know, and it would kill her if her beloved Mr James fancied you.’

  ‘Well, she’s safe from instant death because he doesn’t fancy me,’ said Hannah jokingly.

  ‘I think he does, actually,’ Donna said quietly.

  Hannah couldn’t hide how jolted she was. ‘I…I…’ she stammered. ‘I’m in love with someone else,’ she managed finally. ‘David is just a colleague, the boss. He knows my boyfriend, he knows I’m going out with someone,’ she said.

  ‘And this boyfriend is the one giving you sleepless nights, then?’

  Pleased to have the uncomfortable subject changed, Hannah nodded wryly. ‘I like having some trauma in my life,’ she said caustically. ‘Heartbreak and romantic nightmares are my hobbies. Mind you, at least I’m not in love with David. God,’ she shuddered, ‘imagine being in love with the boss. What a nightmare that would be!’

  Talking to Donna had helped, Hannah realized, as she climbed on to the stepper in the gym that afternoon and began entering in her weight and what programme she wanted to use. This would help even more. Nothing cleared her head like pounding away on the step machine, working up a sweat until her muscles ached from the exercise. It had worked on Harry; it’d work on bloody Felix, the bastard! Up down, up down, she ground away like a machine, letting the intense and repetitive action work the fury out of her system. What she’d do to that bloody Felix-fucking-Andretti if she ever met him again. Pound, pound, pound. He’d be lucky if he was able to walk when she was finished with him. Disturbingly, David James’s face kept shimmering into her subconscious mind. He’d been telling her only a few days ago that he hadn’t been to the gym in two weeks because of work.

  ‘When you get to my age, you’ve got to try harder,’ he sighed, patting his stomach. ‘You wouldn’t think I once ran three marathons, would you?’

  ‘You’re very fit-looking,’ Hannah had protested.

  ‘I’m a stone heavier than I was when I ran the marathon,’ he pointed out. ‘I’ve got to get to the gym three times a week. But the way business is right now, the only way I’m going to get any exercise is if I install a running machine in my office.’

  Hannah increased the intensity of the stepper. David couldn’t possibly fancy her, Donna must be wrong about that. Yet the look on his face when he’d left the office the day before kept coming back to her. He wanted to talk to her about something on Tuesday, but what? And he’d cheered up out of his black mood when she’d screamed at him about how unreliable men were. He’d known she meant Felix, must have figured out it was over between them. Perhaps he wanted to tell her he was interested in her after all. She felt a hot flush that had nothing to do with exercise flood through her. What an awkward mess. There was no room for anyone in her heart but Felix, damn him.

  Pulling her gym bag out of the car was an effort after two solid hours of working out. Hannah’s body ached pleasurably from it, her limbs feeling leaden. She was ravenous and wondered if she had the energy to cook anything or if she’d simply stick a curry in the microwave and pig out on that.

  She was trying to recall exactly what was in the freezer section when she saw the blond head. Lounging beside the front door, all in black and wearing the expression of a child who has just seen his kitten run over and was considering whether to cry or not, was Felix.

  He’d been leaning against the red-brick wall, staring off down the road as if waiting for Hannah to arrive from the other direction. With his head turned slightly, she could see the exquisite profile in perfect detail. Probably what he’d planned, Hannah was surprised to find herself thinking. His nose was chiselled like a Greek god’s, while strands of golden hair fell over eyes staring morosely into the middle distance. It was a pose that must have looked wonderful through the lens of a camera, she thought grimly. Well, if dear Felix had arrived with the intention of acting his way out of this one, he was in for a big surprise.

/>   She banged the front gate viciously and flakes of blue paint fell off on to the weeds between the paving stones.

  ‘What do you want?’ she said coldly, stopping a few feet away from him.

  Felix looked at her and his eyes filled with misery. He said nothing but stared at her mutely, expressing so much emotion in that tortured gaze that Hannah felt her iciness melt away. God, she’d missed him. It had been like a pain, a physical pain. And now he was here…waiting for her, looking like he’d been in pain too.

  Sensing the change in the way she felt, Felix took a step forward and crushed Hannah in his arms. At that first touch, she dropped her gym bag and clung to him, letting his mouth bury itself in her hair, letting him murmur endearments to her. The scent of his aftershave filled her nostrils, that dear familiar spicy smell which warmed her heart and sent little shivers up and down her spine. Shivers of erotic excitement. After their third date, she’d considered buying a bottle of it, just to be able to smell him when he wasn’t around. Today, she’d smelled it on some bodybuilder in the gym, a tantalizing waft of Felix that had made her knees go weak with longing and misery.

  And here he was outside her door, longing for her too. She pulled away briefly, to stare up at him questioningly.

  ‘I couldn’t get away, my love. The director…’ he paused, eyes flickering over her face as if memorizing every detail of a beloved painting. ‘I thought you’d never forgive me for the other night but it was so late when I finally got out of his trailer and then I almost lost my nerve. I was scared you’d never forgive me. You’re so determined, so brave, so sure of everything. But I missed you terribly, I had to come, even if you throw me out.’ He hung his head and Hannah couldn’t bear it.

  ‘Course I forgive you, silly,’ she said, half-laughing, half-crying. ‘I missed you too, so much. I was worried when you didn’t even phone me. I couldn’t get in touch with you.’

  ‘I’m sorry, the director kept me late going over scenes. He’s a slave driver, I told you.’ Felix grinned at her, his laughing golden beauty restored now that he was forgiven. ‘Let’s go inside so I can show you exactly how much I’ve missed you.’

  Afterwards, they lay lazily in bed with Felix indulging in his secret vice: smoking. He even smoked beautifully, she thought, propped up on the pillows and watching his long fingers hold the white cigarette languorously as curls of smoke drifted from his lips. ‘Everybody is becoming terribly anti-smoking,’ Felix grumbled, inhaling deeply. ‘I daren’t say I smoke any more or some bloody casting director will complain about how it ruins the skin and gives you lines around the mouth.’

  ‘You don’t have any lines around your mouth,’ protested Hannah, looking at the lush mouth in question.

  ‘Thankfully. I’m going to have dermabrasion at the first sign of them,’ he said, feeling for lines.

  ‘You goose! Men look better with lines,’ Hannah said. ‘It’s actresses who have to stay young for ever. Actors turn into Clint Eastwood. Although you’re much better looking.’

  He kissed her. ‘You’re so good for my ego, darling,’ he purred.

  ‘Tell me what happened on the set,’ Hannah said in what she hoped was a non-accusatory tone of voice.

  She wanted an explanation of sorts. To be absent without explanation for one day was one thing; to miss a dinner they’d planned was another thing entirely. He could have phoned. Wicklow wasn’t Outer Mongolia.

  Felix sighed. ‘The director and I were having very different views on my character. Radically different. He thinks I should be playing Sebastian as someone without sophistication, a callow innocent, if you like. While I know he’s supposed to be a complex character who pretends to be unsophisticated, do you see?’

  As Felix had originally explained his role in the First World War drama as that of a blindly patriotic young officer who was sent off to fight as nothing more than cannon fodder, Hannah couldn’t see how the character had metamorphosed into a sophisticate. The innocence of his character, Sebastian, was what had drawn Felix to the role in the first place. It was totally different from the street-wise, knowing roles he’d always played on television previously. Or at least, that’s what his agent had said, according to Felix.

  ‘Sebastian understands what’s really going on but feels it’s his duty to fight, even though he knows he’s going to be killed,’ Felix said fiercely. ‘That’s his motivation – duty not stupidity.’

  ‘Have you and the director resolved the problem?’ Hannah enquired delicately.

  ‘I don’t know. Not really, not yet.’ Felix threw the covers from his body and climbed out of bed. He stubbed out his cigarette and immediately lit another one. ‘I can’t play this guy as a fool, it’d be so bad for my profile. Felix Andretti playing some bloody stupid idiot. I’d be stuck playing halfwits from now until the year dot.’

  His face was dark. It was evening and the pale October sun had long since disappeared, leaving the bedroom cast in shadows.

  Hannah watched him from the bed. She wasn’t sure what to say. Pointing out that he’d fought to play this character in the first place would be a mistake. Actors’ egos were such fragile things, as she was discovering daily. Yet, if Felix argued with the director, he could be thrown off the series. That happened, she knew. He wasn’t the star, he was replaceable.

  An idea struck.

  ‘What about your agent – couldn’t you ask her opinion?’ she said.

  ‘I’ll have to use your phone,’ Felix said thoughtfully. ‘My mobile’s broken.’

  ‘I didn’t know you had one.’

  He shrugged, his mind already miles away. ‘That’s because it’s been broken for so long.’

  She left him dialling his agent, Billie, in London and went into the kitchen to see what she could rustle up for dinner. A Spanish omelette was being browned under the grill half an hour later when he danced into the kitchen, his depression gone and his face animated. Felix slid his arms round Hannah’s waist as she stood at the grill, peering in at the omelette. ‘You’re a miracle worker, do you know that?’

  Thrilled he was happy, she smiled. ‘No, why?’

  ‘I phoned Billie, and she agreed with me. Said Sebastian was obviously a more intelligent and aware character than they’re giving him credit for. But she says we’ve got to give the director his shot at it. Says he’ll discover he’s wrong but we’ve got to do it all as per the script. The director had already rung her and told her my scenes were dynamite, so I’m going to give him a chance. I phoned him now and he’s delighted.’

  ‘Phoned the director on location?’ Hannah enquired innocently, taking two plates out of the cupboard. So there were phones on the set. Hannah felt a knot of unease in her guts. Felix could have phoned her if he’d wanted to. The way he could have told her he’d met David James if he’d wanted to. She looked down. The hand holding the plate was shaking. Stop it, she commanded herself. Remember your middle names: Hannah – Strong Independent – Campbell.

  ‘Yeah, he was happy.’ Felix didn’t appear to notice her comment. ‘This smells great. Let’s eat, then we’re off into town to Lillie’s. There’s a gang from location going out on the town tonight. It’ll be fun, are you up for it?’

  ‘You bet,’ Hannah said automatically.

  She’d never been to the Grafton Street nightclub before. Harry had been more of a pub sort of bloke and their nights of wild revelry had been confined to drinking sessions in Ryan’s of Parkgate Street, which was near their old flat. She loved dancing and put on her designer strappy dress with glee, thankful that she’d washed her hair earlier in the gym. Felix was crazy about the dress and, after looking at the mainly conservative garments in her wardrobe, said she needed lots more like it. In the taxi into the city centre, he was so turned on by the outfit that he nearly made the driver turn around again and take them back to Hannah’s flat.

  ‘I thought you were mad to go partying,’ said Hannah, slightly embarrassed by his touching her up with the taxi driver pretending to keep his eye
s on the road.

  ‘You mean, you’re a party animal after all?’ Felix murmured, fingers burrowing under her hem.

  ‘Raring to go,’ she replied primly, removing his hand and giving him a jokey smack on the wrist.

  But by the time she and Felix left the Shelbourne after a few quick drinks to go to Lillie’s, Hannah, who’d been up at seven to get into the office early, was feeling the effects of both her early morning and her energetic gym workout. It was only ten forty-five and she was already tired. Felix, on the other hand, was like the constellations in the sky – he came alive at night.

  ‘I’m crazy about you, babe,’ he crooned at her as they walked down Grafton Street, clicking his fingers to some inner beat. He was wired, almost as if he’d taken something, Hannah thought worriedly. But he couldn’t have, he’d been with her the entire time.

  Queues of people thronged the small entrance to the nightclub, all eager to be seen in the place where rock stars and models let their hair down. For a brief moment, Hannah wondered how they were going to get in but she’d reckoned without her boyfriend. Even though he’d only been living in Dublin for six weeks, the bouncers obviously knew Felix and welcomed him in with open arms. Within minutes, they were being led into what the blonde waitress had described as ‘the library’ where a gang of people lounged around on armchairs with ice buckets and glasses splayed on the tables in front of them. Despite the music and the booze, everyone looked studiedly bored.

  ‘Felix, honey!’ squealed one lean and rapacious redhead in a leather dress, unwinding herself from the arm of a sofa to wind herself around Felix.

  ‘Carol,’ he said, giving her a long kiss on the cheek, one long-fingered hand resting on her sinewy hip. ‘Said I’d come, didn’t I?’

  ‘Not that you’d be bringing company,’ Ms Leather Dress said, giving Hannah the once over.

  Hannah recognized competition when she saw it. And she knew how to deal with it too.