by Susan Lewis
‘OK, I’m sorry,’ he grimaced. ‘I forgot. So who do I make it up to? You or her?’
‘Both,’ Jodi answered, taking her sandwich. ‘Where’s Zelda?’
‘Meditating.’
‘Then I’d better take her some ice and lemon.’
Laughing, Michael watched as Jodi took ice and lemon from the fridge, then went past him to pop it along to Zelda. ‘Meditating,’ he told Sandy as he walked over to Jodi’s chair and sat down, ‘is a useful euphemism where Zelda is concerned.’
Not knowing what a euphemism was, Sandy just smiled.
‘Not eating?’ he asked, unwrapping his sandwiches and propping his feet up on the desk.
Sandy shook her head. ‘I’m not hungry,’ she said.
He bit into his sandwich, chewed slowly as he looked her over, then, swallowing, he said, ‘So, tell me about you. Where were you working before? Zelda mentioned something about a bookshop.’
‘That’s right,’ Sandy answered. ‘I ran it for my father.’
He took another bite of sandwich.
Sandy watched him, almost drooling at the thought of how good it must taste, then, suddenly realizing he was waiting for her to continue she said, ‘Uh, he died a few months ago, so I decided to sell up and come to London.’ She smiled self-consciously. ‘I wanted something a bit more exciting out of life and this job seemed a good place to start.’
Michael nodded. ‘Are you ambitious?’ he asked.
She wasn’t too sure how to answer that, as she’d never really thought about it before. ‘Uh, yes, I think so,’ she said.
‘Are you planning on becoming an agent? Is that why you chose us?’
Sandy flushed and glanced away. ‘I’m not, uh … Well, yes, I do want to become an agent,’ she answered, suddenly realizing how much greater an impression she would make on him if she were, ‘but I know I’ve got a long way to go yet.’
He shrugged. ‘Depends how hard you’re prepared to work,’ he said. ‘So where do you live?’
‘Barking,’ she answered. ‘Where do you live?’
His eyebrows flickered. ‘Me?’ he said. ‘Just along the river, on the other side, near Albert Bridge. Do you know it?’
Sandy shook her head. ‘I don’t really know anywhere yet,’ she confessed. ‘Do you live in a flat or a house?’
His blue eyes were starting to dance and she wasn’t entirely sure why. ‘A flat,’ he said. ‘What about you?’
‘A flat. Not a very big one, but it’ll do for now. Have you always been an agent?’
His head went to one side as he thought about that. ‘Yes,’ he said in the end, ‘I suppose you could say I have. At least, it’s the only real job I’ve had. Dan, my partner, and I came down from Oxford at the same time, moved to London and started working for a friend’s father who was having trouble keeping his agency afloat. Considering Dan and I had graduated in economics and business studies, but had had no experience of the real world, we were the right and the wrong choice to help bail this guy out. But what we lacked in hands-on we made up for in zest and Franklyn, the friend’s father, needed all the help he could get. His problem was gambling, not agenting, so we didn’t have a huge problem getting the show back on the road, and while I concentrated on pulling together the right agents and clients, Dan took over the financial side. We bought Franklyn out a couple of years after we joined him, called ourselves McCann Walsh and in the same year pulled off a major coup by getting the great Zelda Frey to come and join us. She was with Sylvesters at the time, probably the biggest agency in London and had, still has in fact, a list that reads like a roll-call at BAFTA. So, I guess you could say that we owe most of our success to Zelda, who resolutely refuses to accept a partnership because, so she claims, she prefers gin and tonic.’
Sandy laughed.
Winking, Michael put down his sandwich and went to pour himself another coffee. A painful zing dug into Sandy’s taste buds as she gazed longingly at the rich, succulent chicken and creamy mayonnaise between two thick slices of granary bread.
‘Would you like one?’ he offered.
Sandy spun round, appalled that he had seen her hunger, then relaxed as she saw he was holding up the coffee jug. She shook her head. ‘No, no thanks,’ she said.
As he walked back to Jodi’s desk he started talking again. ‘You’ve probably gathered by now,’ he said, ‘that we don’t only look after actors here. We’ve got a pretty extensive list of writers, which Craig heads up, and directors and producers which Harry mainly takes care of.’
‘What about you?’ Sandy asked. ‘Who do you take care of?’
He shrugged. ‘A dozen or so directors,’ he answered, ‘and the rest of the business. On the whole I tend not to take people on myself, I just bring them into the agency and Zelda or Craig or Harry or one of the other agents looks after them. Obviously, all the clients have access to me, whoever they are, but I try not to get involved unless I have to.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Sandy said.
Michael grinned.
Sandy smiled too and lowered her eyes. He was so easy and friendly, and though she felt hugely out of her depth she wished he would go on talking. ‘Where are you from?’ she asked. ‘I mean, where were you born?’
‘Ireland,’ he said, when he’d finished chewing. ‘My sister Colleen and I were born there and moved to Liverpool when I was four and she was three. My dad worked on the docks, had too much to drink one day and fell off a crane. I was six when he died, Colleen was five. My mother married again a few years later and Cavan, my brother, came along not too long after.’ The way he was smiling suggested that his mother was pregnant when she married. ‘My stepdad died a couple of years ago from cancer,’ he went on, ‘and Clodagh, my mother, God bless her, lives most of the year with Colleen in Putney and the rest boasting about us all to her sister in Tralee.’
Sandy was smiling. ‘You sound like a very close family,’ she said, realizing she’d made the same remark to Jodi.
‘Sometimes too close,’ he said with raised eyebrows. ‘Now, what about you? Do you have any family now that your father’s passed on?’
Sandy shook her head. ‘No, I was an only child,’ she said.
‘But you have a cousin here in London, right?’
‘Oh! Yes!’ she replied, realizing he must have already done some homework on her. ‘Well, she’s only a second cousin and we don’t really get on. She said I could live with her when I got here, but I only stayed a couple of nights, then moved into my own place.’
Michael’s eyes showed his interest. ‘What happened to your mother?’ he asked.
‘She died when I was six. Cancer. Of the brain.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he responded softly as Jodi came back in the door. ‘Zelda asleep yet?’ he asked.
‘She’s chanting,’ Jodi answered as he got up from her chair.
Michael chuckled. ‘She’s probably asking for strength after this morning,’ he said. ‘Has she heard back from Gloria yet?’
Jodi grinned. ‘That’s why she’s chanting. Gloria is still refusing to take off her top and the whole shoot is at a standstill. Zelda just spoke to her and reminded her that the contract she signed stipulates that she’ll bare her tits, but Gloria has gone shy. She wants Zelda to go down there and sort it out, but Zelda thinks you should handle it because you probably stand more chance of persuading Gloria to get her tits out than anyone else on the planet, I quote.’
Michael gave a shout of laughter. ‘Leave Zelda to me,’ he said, picking up his coffee.
The fax rang and Sandy turned to watch the message come through, so dazzled by all the attention Michael had just given her that there was just no way she could see anything on the page. Nor, as she kept her back turned for fear of showing her feelings, did she see the quick look that passed between Jodi and Michael as he walked out of the door.
Chapter 4
THE AFTERNOON TURNED out to be even more hectic than the morning as Sandy ran around the office delivering faxes an
d phone messages, collected the outgoing mail and tried to keep on top of everything else. The chat with Michael had buoyed her confidence so much that she was having no problem talking to anyone else now, not even Bertie, whom she’d found quite intimidating at first. But she had few thoughts for anyone other than Michael. She was totally entranced, for she’d never dreamed she’d find it so easy to chat with someone like him. He wasn’t like a boss at all, in fact none of the agents were, but there was something different about Michael, something even more down to earth and easier to deal with than the others. She suspected that it was to do with him being working class too, like her, even though he had gone to Oxford later.
But no, it went deeper than that. She didn’t want to start kidding herself here, but she hadn’t been able to help noticing the way he looked at her, nor how keen he had been to talk to her. Blimey, he had asked her enough times, had even ended up coming in to see her, which couldn’t be normal for a man in his position. No, she definitely reckoned he fancied her and God knew she fancied him. After all, looking like him, how could anyone not?
She was so engrossed in her fantasy world that, had the lift doors not opened around five o’clock to deliver one of the most beautiful women she had ever laid eyes on, she might actually have ended up persuading herself it was all an attainable dream. But just one look at the stunning creature who was at least six feet tall, with the most gorgeous long blonde hair, exquisite slanting eyes and a smile that was just too lovely for words, was enough to crush Sandy’s hopes to dust and make her want to dash across the office to shove the woman back in the lift before Michael ever set eyes on her. Then, realizing it was Michael the woman was smiling at, she felt sick inside, and watched miserably from her office as he slipped an arm around the woman’s shoulders and walked with her down the steps into the well.
‘Ah, Janey!’ Jodi cried jumping up from her chair and going to the door. ‘Bobby Mack’s been trying to get hold of you. Have you got your mobile turned off?’
‘The battery’s dead,’ Janey answered. ‘Did he say where I could reach him?’
By now Janey and Michael were coming up the steps towards Jodi’s and Sandy’s office. ‘He’s at Wembley,’ Jodi said. ‘Michael, the contracts guy at Vargo is holding on the line for you.’
‘OK, I’ll take it in my office,’ he said. ‘Don’t forget to introduce Janey to Sandy.’
Sitting at her desk, Sandy’s heart swelled to think he hadn’t forgotten her, even though the last person she wanted to meet was his bloody girlfriend.
Her face was stiff and her voice stilted as Jodi introduced them, and not even when Jodi explained that Janey was one of the agents did Sandy feel herself thawing. She could sense Janey’s confusion at her hostility and even knew the point at which Janey put her manner down to shyness, but all the time, deep down inside Sandy wanted to scratch the woman’s eyes out because even if she was an agent she was probably still Michael’s girlfriend.
‘What, Janey?’ Jodi laughed after Janey had gone and Sandy had asked point-blank if she was right. ‘If she is then it’s news to me,’ Jodi said. ‘It’ll be news to Bobby Mack too, who Janey’s been living with for the past eight and a half years.’
Sandy lowered her eyes. To be told that Janey was living with someone else made her feel better, but not much, for seeing her walk into the office like that, so willowy and elegant and heart-stoppingly lovely, had shown Sandy just how ridiculous she was even to be thinking the way she had about Michael.
‘They’ve got a couple of kids,’ Jodi was saying while sorting through the paperwork in front of her. ‘Actually, they’re Bobby’s kids. Janey took them on when she and Bobby moved in together. Their mother died in a car crash. They were so young when it happened I don’t expect they even remember her now. Sad, isn’t it? But Janey’s a great mum. She used to be a model. Did all the catwalks in Paris and Milan. Most of her clients are models who want to be actors. A couple have made it, actually, like Beena Fairbanks, she plays the sidekick in Lampson PI, I expect you’ve seen her, and Gary Bruce, he’s just got a regular part on The Bill.’
‘Does Michael have a girlfriend?’ Sandy asked, the words coming before she could stop them.
Jodi’s pause was momentary as her eyes flicked towards Sandy, then returned to what she was doing.
Embarrassed, Sandy looked out to where the two booking assistants were putting on their coats ready to go home. She forced herself to laugh in the hope of lightening her question. ‘I’m sure someone like him must have lots of women after him,’ she said.
‘He does,’ Jodi confirmed. ‘All the time. The current one’s name is Kate Feather. She’s some kind of high roller with the European Parliament, but don’t ask me what. Class, beauty and brains. The woman makes me sick, or she would if I didn’t like her so much.’ She grimaced, then, tucking her fluffy dark hair behind her ears she said, ‘God knows how long she’ll last, though I have to say it seems to be going pretty strong right now.’ She glanced up as Shirley walked past the office, waved good-night, then went back to what she was doing.
‘He’ll drop her soon enough, though,’ she continued, ‘he always does.’ She looked at Sandy and gave a rueful smile. ‘You should see the state some of them get themselves into when he tells them it’s over,’ she said, ‘makes you wonder if they ever heard of pride. He tells them right at the start that it’s not going anywhere, the trouble is they never believe him. I mean, he goes out with them, you know takes them on dates and stuff; sometimes, if he’s getting on particularly well with one, he might take her to the boat he keeps in Cannes or to his house in the Caribbean, but none of them ever last very long.’ She sighed and shook her head.
‘God, the times women have rung up here, or even turned up in the lift, in a right mess because he’s not returning their calls or they’ve found out he’s seeing someone else. You can’t help feeling sorry for them, because every one of them thinks she’s the one who’s going to change him and make him settle down, and it comes as a real shock when they find out they’re wrong.’ She leaned forward and, resting her chin on her hand, gazed absently out at the darkening night.
‘I sometimes wonder if he ever will settle down,’ she said, almost to herself. ‘It’s been such a long time since Michelle, he must be over it by now, but …’ She shrugged and turned to Sandy. ‘You might remember it,’ she said. ‘It was in all the papers at the time. Michelle Rowe? Do you remember her?’
Sandy was frowning. ‘The name rings a bell,’ she said. ‘Oh, yes, I know, wasn’t she in that series about Bosnia? She played the mother who never found her kids.’
Jodi nodded. ‘That was her. Michael bought the book and commissioned the series specially for her. They made a bundle on that, I can tell you. Everyone did, it was so successful.’ She paused for a moment then went on, unprompted. ‘She was fresh out of drama school when Michael first met her,’ she said. ‘He saw her in a Sam Sheppard play at the Latchmere and signed her up that night.’ She chuckled. ‘Listen to me, signed her up! What he did was fall smack, bang in love with her. She did with him too. They were inseparable the two of them. I think they’d only been together a couple of weeks when she moved in with him. Of course, having Michael as a lover she could hardly go wrong, could she? But she had real talent as an actress, I mean she was good. Everyone thought so, even the critics. Did you see her in that film, Good-night to Ben Bower? God, she was brilliant. I cried buckets when she walked up to that grave. She got a BAFTA for that. She was nominated for Gone Without Trace, the series about Bosnia, but someone else got it, Jessica Pollinger, but that was a political decision and everyone knows the award should have been Michelle’s. Anyway, she and Michael were working together on a movie when she left. It was the first time Michael had gone into producing. It was something he’d always talked about doing, but he was so tied up with other things he just never got round to it. Then this script came up that was dead right for Michelle and she was so excited about it that Michael decided to go wi
th it. He’d have been a brilliant producer, everyone says so. He still gets offers now, but he always turns them down.’
‘Why?’ Sandy asked.
Jodi’s lips flattened as she shook her head. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘It’s not something he ever talks about. All I know is when Michelle walked out he pulled the plug on the movie and has never mentioned it since.’
‘Why did she walk out?’ Sandy asked.
Jodi looked at her in surprise. ‘It was in all the papers,’ she said, ‘don’t you remember? She ended her relationship with Michael, gave up acting and went off to work for Save the Children, or some charity like that. It was the TV series that did it. She got so into the part and was so torn up by all the things that were happening to the women and children in Bosnia that she just had to do something to help. And her idea of doing something to help was to go over there and get right into it.’
Sandy was staring at her in amazement. Now that Jodi had reminded her she did remember the story, but what was having the biggest effect of all on her right now was the fact that she, Sandy Paull, was falling for the same man as Michelle Rowe – the Michelle Rowe – had gone out with. God, she could remember so well the way she and her sisters had devoured the story in the papers, and how everyone in the office had been talking about it too. It seemed so unreal, so beyond all her wildest dreams that she should be mixing with people like that. But she was, and now she had met Michael McCann Sandy couldn’t even begin to imagine how Michelle Rowe had brought herself to leave him, especially not for the reason she had. Not that Sandy didn’t care about children, but there were always envelopes to put money in, or pledges you could make on the telly, so why did anyone feel they had to give up a superstar career and the most fantastic man in the world to go and be an aid worker in some godforsaken part of the world? To Sandy it just didn’t make any sense.
‘How did Michael take it?’ she asked.
Again Jodi shook her head. ‘He was devastated,’ she answered. ‘Completely devastated. You see, they weren’t only planning to do the film, they were planning to get married too.’ She sighed. ‘He really loved that woman,’ she said softly. ‘I mean really loved her. And they were so good together. Always laughing and fooling about, here in the office or at parties, wherever they were. They were just made for each other.’ She paused as her mind wandered back through those times. ‘We didn’t see him for a month after she went,’ she said in the end. ‘He took off somewhere with Cavan, his brother. They went to his boat, I think. I never asked.’