The One You Love (Emma Holden suspense mystery trilogy)

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The One You Love (Emma Holden suspense mystery trilogy) Page 13

by Paul Pilkington


  ‘I know it sounds horrible,’ Emma said, ‘but that leading lady breaking her leg might just be the big break you needed.’

  ‘Boom, boom,’ Lizzy replied. ‘Actually, you’re right. I like Jessica, and I wish she hadn’t broken her leg, but it did work out well for me. That’s if I can remember all my lines. It’s much harder than I imagined.’

  ‘You’ll be fine. I didn’t notice any fluffed lines when I was watching.’

  ‘That’s because I hide it well. I’m a professional,’ joked Lizzy. ‘Unfortunately I can’t hide it well enough from the boss, and he gave me a bit of a roasting earlier. Said if I didn’t get my act together, I’d be lucky to be singing in the chorus line.’

  ‘Ouch.’

  ‘Ouch indeed.’

  ‘Is that my fault? You know, dragging you off to Stephen’s parents, and getting in your way at home?’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Anyway, we’re supposed to be thinking about the future.’

  ‘Yes,’ Emma said, ‘you’re right.’

  Just then the call went out for cast members to return.

  ‘Better go.’ Lizzy jumped to her feet. ‘And pray I can remember all those lines this time. You can stay and watch for as long as you want.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Lizzy went to move away, then stopped. ‘Oh, yeah. Do you fancy going out tonight? A few of the cast are going off to a salsa club in town. I wasn’t sure if I was going, but I’ll come if you will.’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘C’mon,’ Lizzy encouraged. ‘It’ll do you good. You don’t want to be hanging around the apartment, just thinking about things.’

  ‘It’s just that I was thinking of spending the night with Will. I don’t know how long he’s going to be away for. And I don’t like the thought of leaving him alone on his last night in the country, especially the way he’s feeling right now. I feel terrible already for not noticing he was suffering so much.’

  ‘See if he wants to come along,’ Lizzy suggested. ‘The more the merrier.’

  ‘Okay,’ Emma said. ‘If he says yes, count me in.’

  ***

  Emma sat at the back of the theatre, hundreds of empty seats ahead of and above her. In two weeks’ time, when Lizzy debuted in the musical, all those seats would be filled. The musical had sold out for its first few months from advance bookings, and the press were already talking about it as the possible saviour of the West End. This really was Lizzy’s big break. And she deserved it. She had worked so hard to get to this point.

  Emma watched her friend belting out one of the show’s closing numbers, a cast of dozens moving around her with military-like precision. Even without the full set and costumes it was impressive.

  Lizzy was just coming to the end of the song when Emma’s mobile shrilled, seeming to echo all around the theatre.

  ‘Oh, God.’

  Emma scrambled for her pocket and just before she switched the phone off she noted that it was reading an unknown number. She moved out of her seat, face flushed, and hurried up the aisle, not waiting to hear any chastisement. Fortunately, it seemed as if the rehearsal was carrying on uninterrupted.

  She had got into the main foyer when the mobile called out again. It was the same number as before.

  ‘Hello,’ Emma said.

  ‘Emma!’ blasted a familiar voice, nearly bursting her eardrum with enthusiasm. ‘It’s Guy here, Guy Roberts.’

  Guy Roberts: the casting director. Emma nearly dropped the phone with shock.

  ‘Oh, hi,’ she said.

  ‘Look,’ he said. ‘I won’t beat around the bush. We had our second reading the other day, as you know. And I’m afraid to say that, although the people we had were very good, they just weren’t right for the part. Do you know why?’

  ‘No,’ said Emma, her heart fluttering with anticipation.

  ‘It’s because no one came close to touching what you did in that first reading. When I saw you read I thought you were perfect for the part, and it was really unfortunate you couldn’t make the second reading. I know you had your reasons.’

  ‘I’m sorry, too.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘Emma, are you still interested in this movie – in this role?’

  ‘Well, yes, I suppose so.’

  ‘I want to see you,’ he said, suddenly sounding extremely business-like. ‘Can you come over to my place, say, tomorrow around lunchtime? We can discuss everything then.’

  ‘Discuss everything?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘if you’re taking this part, then there’s a lot to discuss. Your fee, for instance, which I can assure you will be more money than you’ve ever earned in your life.’

  29

  ‘Shouldn’t you be getting ready?’ said Lizzy, watching as Emma sat on the sofa reading a book, her legs tucked under her body. ‘We’re meeting Will in half an hour.’

  ‘Is it really that late?’ Emma got up, still focussed on the book.

  ‘Yes, it is. What are you reading, anyway? Must be engrossing – you’ve been glued to it for an hour.’

  ‘You don’t want to know.’ Emma closed the book.

  Lizzy peered at its red cover. She’d assumed it was a novel but on closer inspection it looked like a notebook. ‘I’m intrigued,’ she said, grabbing the cover.

  Emma released the book from her grasp and watched as Lizzy flicked through it.

  ‘What the hell?’ Lizzy looked up. ‘This is his diary?’

  ‘I took it before we found out he had died,’ Emma explained. ‘It was in his room – when you and Mrs Myers walked out I grabbed it and stuffed it into the waistband of my trousers. I thought it might give us some clues.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be reading it,’ Lizzy said. ‘It’ll just upset you.’

  ‘It’s okay. I just wanted to try and understand him. I thought if I read this, then…’

  ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea, Em,’ Lizzy interrupted. ‘And what’s this?’ She held up a photograph – the photograph of Emma that had been taken outside Lizzy’s flat.

  ‘A bookmark?’ Emma offered.

  Lizzy placed the photograph back in the book and handed it to back to Emma.

  ‘Promise you’ll throw this away.’

  ‘Okay,’ Emma agreed, ‘I’ll deal with it.’

  ***

  ‘He looks like he’s having fun,’ Lizzy said, as she and Emma watched Will salsa dancing with one of the girls from the musical.

  They had been in the salsa club for over three hours, and with over two of those hours spent on the dance floor it felt as if they’d burned off enough calories to last a lifetime.

  ‘Yeah,’ Emma said, watching as Will laughed and joked with the girl.

  ‘You’re not convinced?’ Lizzy said.

  ‘Not really. He looks like he’s trying too hard. And he’s had quite a lot to drink.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll be all right in Canada?’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘I don’t understand it,’ Lizzy said. ‘He always seems so happy and carefree. I’d never guess that something was wrong.’

  ‘I should have known,’ Emma said. ‘He’s my brother.’

  ‘But he hid it well.’

  ‘He did.’

  ‘And he didn’t say that there was a reason for him being depressed?’ Lizzy took a sip from her drink.

  ‘No. And I didn’t want to press him on it.’

  ‘How do you think he would feel about your dad’s news?’

  ‘It would probably tip him over the edge,’ Emma said. ‘I couldn’t tell him. Not yet, anyway.’

  ‘I understand. And anyway it’s your dad’s responsibility. So have you decided yet about tomorrow?’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ Emma was still watching Will, who looked to be getting unstable on his feet.

  ‘Yes, tomorrow!’ Lizzy nudged her playfully. ‘You know, Guy Roberts, famous casting director…’

  Emma continued watching her brother. He was leaning against the
girl. ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘But you said you’d go.’

  ‘I know, but now I’m not so sure.’

  ‘Go,’ Lizzy demanded. ‘Or I’ll never speak to you again, Emma Holden.’

  ‘Okay,’ Emma said, ‘if you put it like that, Little Miss Bossy, I’ll go.’

  ***

  It was well into the early hours when Will staggered over towards Emma.

  ‘I’m going.’ He turned and headed off through the crowds, not waiting for Emma to reply.

  ‘Wait,’ shouted Emma, pursuing him.

  She caught up with him at the top of the stairs.

  ‘Will,’ she said, pulling at his shoulder. ‘Hang on a minute.’

  ‘Time for me to go,’ he said, straining drunkenly against her grasp.

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘Why?’ he said, turning around. Up close it was clear just how drunk he was. His eyes were fiery red and his face was flushed.

  ‘Because I want to,’ she said. ‘We can get a cab.’

  ‘If you want.’

  ‘Let me just tell Lizzy. Wait there until I get back.’ She pointed at the spot where he was standing.

  He nodded, his head seemingly loose at the neck.

  When Emma got back, Will had gone. She dashed outside, wondering what might happen to him in that state, wandering around the West End. When the night air hit, she realised how much she, too, had drank.

  Will was wandering across the road, trying to flag down a cab.

  ‘Will!’ she shouted, sprinting up to him, dodging the traffic. She pulled him onto the pavement. He seemed amused by the attention, and completely unaware that he’d just been standing in the middle of the road. ‘I’m going to get you home, now.’

  ‘Okay,’ slurred Will. ‘Home sounds nice.’

  It was tricky hailing a cab with one hand whilst holding onto her brother with the other; Emma didn’t dare let go in case he ran out into the road, or fell and smacked his head on the concrete. Eventually she did succeed, and then managed to persuade the driver that Will was fit enough to travel back without vomiting. Ten minutes later they got back to Will’s flat. She struggled up the stairs, with Will maintaining the same silence as in the cab. She gave him a glass of water, and two paracetamol; his flight was taking off from Heathrow at ten the next morning, and he would need all the help he could get to avoid – or at least dampen – the hangover.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said, breaking his silence, slugging back the water and the tablets.

  Emma watched as he lay down on the sofa and covered his face with his hands.

  ‘Are you okay, Will?’

  ‘I don’t deserve you,’ he said, his voice muffled against his hands. ‘Not after what I’ve done to you.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I just want to forget,’ he said, before falling asleep.

  30

  ‘You didn’t have to stay, you know,’ said Will, looking up from the sofa and grimacing against the light as, over in the small kitchen area, Emma poured a cup of tea.

  Emma popped a couple of rounds of bread into the toaster. ‘I wanted to. It wasn’t a problem.’

  ‘I appreciate it.’ Will attempted to sit up. ‘Ouch.’ He brought a hand to his head.

  Emma brought over the tea. ‘Hangover?’

  ‘One mother of a hangover,’ he complained, taking hold of the cup. ‘Feels like someone’s playing pinball inside my head.’

  ‘I don’t know about pinball. Last night you were playing Frogger with the traffic on Tottenham Court Road.’

  ‘Oh, bollocks.’ Will looked concerned and ashamed. ‘Was I really?’

  ‘Really.’

  ‘And you saved me from certain death?’

  ‘Most probably.’

  ‘I don’t deserve you,’ he said, taking a sip of the tea before breaking out into a cough.

  ‘That’s what you said last night,’ Emma replied.

  He looked up.

  ‘What else did I say? I didn’t say anything stupid, did I?’

  ‘I think you were still feeling guilty about what happened with Stephen.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ He looked down into the tea.

  ‘You really can’t remember any of that running about in the road?’

  ‘Can’t remember anything. Apart from dancing.’

  ‘You did do a lot of that.’

  ‘It just gets worse. Shit, what time is it?’ He scrambled for his watch.

  ‘Seven o’clock,’ Emma said. ‘You want me to book a taxi?’

  Will rose from the sofa. ‘Already done it, yesterday. It’s due to pick me up in half an hour.’

  ***

  Twenty-five minutes later he stood in the centre of the lounge, holding a travel bag in each hand. It didn’t look enough for a trans-Atlantic trip.

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘here starts my big adventure.’

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ asked Emma. Will didn’t cut a convincing figure, and she was certain it wasn’t just the hangover that made him look so washed out.

  ‘Sure as I’ll ever be.’ He gave an unconvincing smile.

  ‘Maybe you should stay here,’ she suggested. ‘Get some help, with us to support you.’

  ‘No,’ he said simply, the smile vanishing. ‘I have to do this, Em. I need to get away.’

  ‘But aren’t you just running away from your problems?’

  ‘Maybe I am,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s something I want to do. I think it will help.’

  ‘What will you do over there?’

  ‘I’ve always wanted to see the major sights – you know, Niagara Falls, go up the CN Tower, maybe go to the Canadian Rockies and see some bears.’

  Emma watched as he enthused about Canada and for a moment he actually looked happy and excited. Maybe it was just what he needed.

  ‘And will your friend Stefan be around?’ she asked.

  ‘He said he could take a week off. But he’s got some other friends I can hang around with, too. Don’t worry about me, Em. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Good,’ Emma said. ‘I’m glad. I just want you to be happy, Will.’

  ***

  ‘I’ll call you when I get to Canada,’ said Will, his head sticking out of the taxi window.

  ‘Make sure you do.’

  ‘I hope everything is okay next week. I know it wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.’

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be okay,’ Emma replied. ‘I’ve just got to get over it.’

  ‘We’ll both come through this, Em. When I get back, we can go out to celebrate our new start.’

  ***

  Emma watched as the taxi drove off. She hoped that Will was right, and that he could somehow cure his demons so far from home. She hoped, too, that they would both be able to make a new start.

  She checked her watch, before heading towards the tube. Hopefully she would catch Lizzy before she left for her rehearsals, and hopefully Lizzy would be fresh and reasonably awake, ready to give advice and support – because if she was going to meet Guy Roberts she would need all the advice and support she could get.

  ***

  Will sat back in the cab’s seat and closed his eyes. His head was spinning ever so slightly, and he prayed that he would keep his breakfast down on the way to the airport. He opened his eyes and watched as London passed by. He didn’t think he would miss it: at least, not at first anyway.

  As the taxi neared Heathrow he gazed skywards as dozens of aeroplanes flew past: just some of the millions who left and arrived every year, each with their own mixture of hopes and dreams, disappointments and fears.

  He wondered whether this really was the start of something new, something better.

  Then his phone rang. The realisation of who was calling crushed his optimism dead.

  ‘What the hell do you want?’ he said, grasping the phone tightly. ‘You said it would be the last time… look, I told you, that’s it, no more… I don’t care what you do. Do whatever you like. Just leave me a
lone.’

  He cut off the conversation and glanced at the driver. His head was fixed straight ahead, focussing on the road, apparently oblivious to what had just happened. Will considered apologising for the tone of the call, but the cabbie had probably heard much worse than that in his career. Instead he simply turned off his phone and stuffed it into his bag, hoping that what he had just said, and the way he had said it, wouldn’t prove to be his undoing.

  31

  Emma’s new start began that afternoon, in a particularly exclusive part of Notting Hill. She’d rarely been to this part of London before, and had certainly never gone there to visit anyone. You had to be seriously wealthy to live in such a place – seriously wealthy, like Guy Roberts.

  She reached his door and rang the bell, thinking back to the advice Lizzy had given her about keeping calm and maintaining control. But as she waited for someone to answer, with the sound of birdsong ringing around her, she felt anything but calm and in control. This was unlike anything she had ever done in the past. She remembered the night she’d found out that she’d got the part in Up My Street – she had gone out to a nightclub with friends, and spent much of the night on the dance floor, trying to come to terms with the fantastic news. But this was taking things to a whole new level. The man who was presumably waiting inside to speak to her was a world-renowned casting director who had mixed with some of the world’s biggest movie stars.

  She took a deep breath as the door started to open.

  ‘Emma, it’s so great to see you,’ said Guy Roberts, taking her hand and shaking it vigorously. ‘C’mon in.’

  She followed him down the hallway and into the lounge area. The house was as nice inside as out, decked out like a Hollywood mansion. Framed posters of movies adorned the walls, and a piano stood in one corner of the room.

 

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