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Behind the Scenes

Page 15

by Anita Notaro


  Chapter Twenty-Three

  DESPITE TOSSING AND turning all night following their conversation, Libby put it out of her mind as the horror that was ‘How to have people round without going round the bend’ – thankfully a working title only – took hold again. She’d seen some of the rushes and had hated them with a passion, although everyone else, including Melanie, seemed to think they were fine. Libby wondered if she was going mad, and that seemed entirely possible too.

  The much-needed break arrived at last and they set about planning the second half regardless, to keep up with the voracious appetite of ‘the schedule’.

  Tuesday came and Libby had almost forgotten about John until his secretary telephoned to confirm. She was devastated, having planned to spend the full day at home in front of the TV with only Terry, she of the chocolate orange fame, for company.

  At four-thirty she threw herself into the shower, dressed in a long black wool skirt and soft cashmere sweater and added high-heeled boots to try and smarten herself up. She applied her makeup with care and left her blond hair loose, conscious that she hadn’t seen John in several weeks and realizing that she was vain enough to want to look good for David’s friend.

  He arrived with more flowers.

  ‘God, your secretary is definitely looking for Brownie points,’ Libby said as she took the enormous bunch of red roses and dunked them in a basin. ‘Come into the kitchen and I’ll give you a glass of wine while I finish off supper.’

  He watched her closely as he sat on a high stool and loosened his tie. She looked tired and drawn and her face was a bit puffy, he noticed with concern.

  ‘So, how’s the series progressing?’

  ‘Do you know, I really have no idea. I think it’s horrendous and everyone else thinks it’s fine. And knowing me as you do at the moment, who would you believe?’

  ‘Things still rough?’

  ‘You’ve no idea.’ All of a sudden a wave of sadness and hurt washed over her and the pain was physical and intense. ‘I miss him so much. It hurts all day, every day.’ She stopped stirring and bowed her head. Tears ran down her face, this time nothing to do with alcohol.

  He wasn’t sure what to do, but he sensed she needed something from him, so he came and stood behind her and rubbed her shoulders and put his head against hers. The gesture was too much. She turned and collapsed into his arms and buried her head and sobbed. It had been weeks overdue and it looked like it was going to last for months.

  ‘Come on, sit down. Why didn’t you call me?’ Libby merely continued to sob so he took the spatula out of her hand and led her over to a nearby chair.

  ‘It’ll burn.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m not really hungry,’ he said. It was a fib and she knew it.

  ‘You’re always hungry. Stop lying.’ She gave a ghost of a smile and he tilted her head up.

  ‘You’ll get through this, I promise. You’re a terrific girl, everyone thinks so. Look how much you’ve achieved yourself.’ He was kicking himself for not checking in on her more regularly. Anna had warned him to keep an eye on her, but she was very good at avoiding him and his phone calls.

  She wiped her streaked eyes on her sleeve, a gesture he wouldn’t have associated with her, and got to her feet. ‘I’m fine, honestly. I’ll have this ready in a second. I don’t know what came over me. I suppose it’s because you knew him so well too.’

  She was a sorrowful sight as she stirred and sniffled and John Simpson pitied her for the first time ever. She was hard to get to know and of all the words he’d have used to describe his feelings for her in the past, pity was never anywhere on the list.

  She produced a big bowl of creamy pasta and a crunchy green salad, then topped up his glass and sat beside him at the kitchen table where they ate in relative peace. The tears had been a release of sorts.

  ‘So, talk to me about the business,’ she said as she led the way into the sitting room after they’d finished, coffee and wine glasses in hand.

  He was reluctant now, didn’t know where to start. ‘There are things that we need to sort out,’ he said finally.

  ‘What sort of things? I told you already, John, you’ll have to treat me like an imbecile as far as the business goes.’

  ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘Then you’d better start at the beginning.’

  He didn’t want to be here, having this conversation.

  ‘The business was going through a tough time when David . . . went. Things hadn’t been easy for him for a while.’

  ‘But he never mentioned anything.’ Libby was puzzled and guilty, knowing she wouldn’t have encouraged David to talk to her about it.

  ‘He didn’t say anything to me either. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have had to. It’s just, the markets are all over the place at the moment, have been since nine-eleven, even though that now seems a long way off. I’m sure you know what’s happened in the technology sector, and pharmaceuticals haven’t fared much better. David had taken a lot of risks. Short term they weren’t paying off, but knowing his ability to read the markets, they probably would have turned around.’

  ‘So what are you saying?’ She had a very uneasy feeling about this.

  ‘He owed a lot of money. Ordinarily, it wouldn’t have been a problem but now that . . . the situation’s changed, the banks are beginning to accelerate their demands.’

  ‘Well, pay them.’ He wondered if she really believed it was that simple.

  ‘We are, but in some cases we can’t. It’s either tied up or we simply don’t have the cash.’

  ‘But we have lots of money! There are accounts everywhere. I have a wallet full of gold cards.’

  ‘Libby, we’re talking big money, there’s no way David had that kind of money stashed away.’

  ‘How big?’

  ‘Millions.’

  ‘Millions?’

  He nodded. He could have said more, but he wasn’t prepared to put her through anything else tonight.

  ‘So what do we do?’ She swallowed hard, not sure she wanted to know.

  ‘I don’t know yet. Alex is still trying to sort it out. I’ve spoken to the banks, explained that I’m across it, bought us some time. We should know more by the end of the week.’

  Libby stared at him, gulped her wine, bit her lip and reached in her bag for a cigarette, something she was doing more frequently these days.

  ‘I didn’t know you smoked.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  He wasn’t about to lecture her, although he wanted to. David would have.

  ‘I only have one occasionally,’ she lied because he looked so concerned.

  ‘Libby, I’ll try to sort it out for you, I promise. But I’m worried. And so is Alex, he’s been shouldering it for weeks now.’

  ‘But he’s the chief financial officer, how could he have let this happen?’ She needed someone to blame.

  ‘David was the boss, Libby, you know that. He kept his deals very close to his chest. And he was very persuasive.’ He shrugged. ‘As long as he was in charge, it would have been OK. That’s where his skills lay.’

  She still couldn’t take it in. ‘But that’s just it. He was one of the best business brains in the country, you’ve said so yourself many times. People, even politicians and other successful business people, came to him for advice. Look at that award he received, only a couple of months ago . . .’ Her voice trailed off. ‘How could he let this happen to me?’

  ‘Libby, he didn’t know he was going to . . . leave you, remember. He’d have sorted it out. It’s what he did all the time.’

  ‘Except there wasn’t any more time.’ The anger and bitterness were a first for her. They masked the pain and threatened to swallow her up. These feelings were scary enough, but the sudden realization that she might not be able to keep up the lifestyle he had built up for them both was absolutely terrifying. Her whole identity was tied up in this lavish house with its art and antiques. She needed her staff and her car and all her luxuries and
in a couple of sentences John Simpson seemed to be trying to take them all away.

  ‘How will this affect me?’ Her tone was chilly and her words measured.

  It was the question he’d hoped she wouldn’t ask tonight. He paused. ‘You were a partner in the business.’ He spoke softly, hoping to ease the effect of his words. An icy hand gripped her heart.

  ‘I know I was a partner. You drew up the documents after we were married. But I was a silent partner. I’d no idea what was going on, you of all people should realize that.’

  ‘I know, Libby, I know.’ He looked tormented and she felt sorry for doubting his intentions towards her. ‘But the banks won’t see it that way and that’s what I’m worried about.’

  He’d said enough, he couldn’t face telling her straight out that she was now solely responsible for David’s debts. Joint and several liability, they called it. He thought he’d made it all clear to her at the time, but maybe he’d been naïve or, even worse, negligent and she’d been starry-eyed and in love, and none of them ever thought David wouldn’t be around for a very long time.

  Libby jumped up and shook her head as if to rid it of nasties. ‘John, I think I’ve had enough for one night, if you don’t mind.’ She was cold with him again and he wanted to reassure her but couldn’t.

  ‘Sure, and Libby, I’m sorry. I’d do anything not to have to tell you all this. I wish I could do something to make it easier.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Anyway, I’m working on it all week with Alex. Give me a bit more time and then the three of us will sit down.’

  After he finished his coffee and drained his glass she saw him to the door and remained stiff as he hugged her.

  ‘Try not to worry, OK?’ It was a futile statement and both of them knew it.

  She gave a half-smile but didn’t trust herself to speak.

  As soon as she shut the door she poured herself a balloon full of brandy and tried to work it out in her head. How could he do this to her? It was her favourite question now. This was a nightmare. The idea that she might lose everything was one from which she’d never recover. Tears ran down her face and she sat huddled in David’s favourite chair and drank herself stupid and cursed him into hell.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  SINCE THE FAMOUS Friday night in the car, living had become a cocktail of pleasure and pain for Annie. Marc hadn’t called over the weekend, hence the mind-numbing sensations of grief. She needed to talk it through with someone. She nearly rang Orla, her new friend from the show, but couldn’t bear it. She squirmed every time she thought about exposing her childish emotions to someone who was almost a stranger. Discussing it with one of her other friends who didn’t know him wasn’t the same.

  He finally rang on the Tuesday night while she was at work and the sensation she felt at the sound of his voice on her machine told her she had it bad. She replayed the delicious Aussie drawl a hundred times and sat on the floor in the draughty hall, drinking her cocoa, pressing rewind and feeling her heart soar. He did like her. He hadn’t forgotten her. He really wanted to be with her. It was glorious.

  She just about managed to hold off ringing him that night, mostly because it was after midnight when she got in, the restaurant having been jammed all evening. Also, she was slightly afraid he might not be alone so late at night, a thought that sent her mood crashing. Next morning she barely held on until the respectable hour of 9 a.m. – mid morning for her, as she’d been awake since six-thirty.

  He obviously wasn’t waiting for her call, judging by the fuzzy greeting.

  ‘Hi there, it’s Annie.’

  ‘Hi Annie, how are you?’

  ‘Great. Hope I didn’t wake you?’

  ‘You did, actually.’

  ‘Oh.’ The bald statement left her fumbling for something to say. The only thing that sprang to mind was a lie. ‘Sorry, it’s just that I’m on my way out and I thought I’d get you before I left for the day.’

  ‘Are you always so cheerful in the mornings?’ There was more than a hint of suggestion in the singsong drawl.

  She laughed. ‘Always.’

  ‘Wow, now that could be our first row.’

  ‘I don’t fight.’

  ‘Neither do I, come to think of it.’

  ‘Another thing we have in common.’ She sounded desperate, so she rushed on in there. ‘How’ve you been?’ She resisted asking about his weekend and why the hell he hadn’t rung her as promised. Even she knew that that was seriously not cool.

  ‘Fine. Busy. You?’

  ‘Same. Working mostly.’

  ‘Any news from the show?’

  ‘Not yet.’ It was her only gloomy thought. ‘Max did say it would be after next week, when they had their brainstorming session.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I remember. Well, how about a date this week then?’

  Yes please, she wanted to say. ‘Fine’ was what came out.

  ‘How about Friday?’

  ‘I’m working.’ She was gutted, but there was no way on earth she could ask any more favours of Owen Kerrigan at the moment. ‘I’m free on Sunday night. How’s that for you?’

  ‘I’ve been invited to a barbecue, but hey, why don’t you come along? It should be fun.’

  ‘A barbecue, are you out of your tree? It’s winter.’

  ‘Ah, but you forget, my friends are nearly all from down under and it’s summer over there, so unless it snows we eat out of doors.’

  It wasn’t quite what Annie had in mind but she desperately wanted to be with him. ‘Great, what time?’

  ‘I’ll pick you up at five, OK?’

  ‘I could meet you somewhere, if you like? In town maybe.’

  ‘How old are you, fifteen?’ He was teasing. ‘Only teenagers meet in town. I’ll collect you.’

  She blushed, thinking how few dates she’d had over the years. Out of touch was just not in it.

  ‘Do I have to ask your father’s permission?’

  ‘Idiot,’ she laughed and it was OK.

  ‘I’ll see you on Sunday then.’

  ‘Should I bring anything?’

  ‘No, no worries. I’ll pick up a case of beer on the way. See you about five.’

  ‘OK, then.’

  ‘Don’t work too hard.’

  ‘Don’t sleep too long.’

  ‘I’m awake just thinking about you.’

  She was scarlet.

  ‘Bye.’

  ‘Bye, babe.’ From him it sounded dreamy.

  She bought some new underwear and threw out all her sensible cotton knickers in preparation. On Saturday she splashed out on a blow-dry, which she hoped would hold till the next day. It meant a night trying to sleep sitting up, but what the hell. Sunday saw her in her best jeans and a funky sweater. Her new jacket ensured she didn’t catch her death but made her feel sensible, which she didn’t like.

  Marc looked even better than she’d remembered and his kiss made the wait almost worthwhile.

  She closed the door and turned to lead him into the sitting-room, polished to within an inch of its life, but he grabbed her arm and swung her round to face him, then pulled her close and kissed her hard on the lips, pushing her mouth open with his. She inhaled the salty, outdoorsy smell of him and melted. He teased her with his tongue and she was immediately aroused, convinced she could have had an orgasm there and then with just a little more effort. This guy was dynamite and the effect he had on her was a disaster when it came to playing it cool. So she didn’t. She simply wound her arms around his neck and arched her whole body and wished they were naked.

  He was first to pull away. ‘Let’s go, I’m starving. But I’ll definitely have more of that later.’

  Annie grinned and picked up her bag and they headed off. The party was in full swing, in a modern townhouse belonging to another Australian couple whom Marc knew from Sydney. The music was blaring but the neighbours had been invited and there were plenty of cold beers and great smells. Annie was so happy to be with him, and to meet his friends, that she had a permanent g
rin on for hours, helped by the fact that he kept coming back to her and kissing her neck, or standing beside her and stroking her arm, or occasionally dragging her off to a corner and kissing her properly.

  Everyone seemed really friendly. It was the kind of life Annie had missed out on for years and now she revelled in it.

  ‘Is it only me or is it seriously freezing out here?’ Annie turned and smiled.

  ‘Hi, I’m Audrey, you must be Linda?’ A small, curly-haired Australian greeted her warmly as she got herself another beer.

  ‘No, I’m Annie.’

  ‘Oh. Sorry, I . . . eh, must have got it wrong. I was talking to someone earlier and eh . . . I thought they pointed you out as Linda. How are you anyway, Annie?’

  ‘Hi, how are you?’ Annie wasn’t in the least put out, delighted to have someone new to talk to.

  ‘Freezing. You?’

  ‘Yep, it’s cold all right. Only an Aussie would even attempt to eat outdoors in this weather, even though it’s actually very mild for this time of year.

  ‘Who did you come with?’

  ‘Marc Robinson.’ Annie nodded happily in his direction.

  ‘Well, I gotta hand it to you, he’s a good-looking guy.’

  Annie was thrilled. ‘We’ve only known each other a couple of weeks.’

  ‘Well, knowing Marc as I do, I’d say he’s keen. How did you two meet?’

  ‘On the programme.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you. I normally get to see most of it.’

  ‘Haven’t been on yet. I’ve only just recorded my first four episodes.’

  ‘Ah, that explains it. Well, I’ll have to watch it now, keep an eye out for you. Who do you play?’

  They chatted on and Marc came back and teased Audrey, whom he hadn’t seen in ages but had once shared a house with. He kept his arm protectively around Annie and even kissed her in front of his old friend, who winked conspiratorially at her.

  ‘You’ll have to tell me your secret,’ she laughed good-humouredly as someone dragged her off for a dance. Annie thought she saw her give Marc a questioning look but decided she was imagining it.

  ‘What secret’s that?’ He put his two arms around her but held her away to study her face.

 

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