Chasing Dreams

by Susan Lewis

  ‘… so I told him,’ Bertie was saying to Michael, ‘that since Craig’s away until Tuesday he’d better speak to you.’

  Michael was looking hard at Bertie’s long, pinched face. ‘Does Craig know anything about this?’ he demanded.

  Bertie shook his head. ‘Not as far as I’m aware,’ he replied.

  ‘And you’re sure you didn’t misunderstand what Slim Sutton was saying?’

  Bertie shrugged. ‘He was pretty specific,’ he answered.

  ‘So run me through it again,’ Michael said.

  Bertie shifted his weight on to the other foot and folded his arms. ‘Well, he called to say that he’d written to his agent at Sackville and Peters to tell him he was transferring here, to Craig. Then he said he was coming to London next Thursday to spend the weekend with a couple of other writers he knows and that he wanted Craig to set up a few more sessions like the one he’d had the last time he was in town. I asked him what kind of sessions they were, and he sort of chuckled and said, “you know, the kind the girl Sandy provides. And if she’s got a couple of friends …”’

  ‘All right,’ Michael interrupted. His face was inscrutable. ‘Do you know where Sutton is now?’ he said.

  ‘At home in Wales, I imagine,’ Bertie responded.

  Michael nodded and was about to tell Bertie to keep this under his hat, when he remembered who he was talking to. So merely telling him he could go, he sat for a moment going over what he’d just heard. He toyed with the idea of speaking to Zelda, but decided to call Sutton first.

  ‘Slim? It’s Michael McCann,’ he said when Sutton answered his phone.

  ‘Michael!’ Sutton cried. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Very well,’ Michael said. ‘Bertie tells me there’s something you want to talk about.’

  ‘Yes,’ Sutton laughed. ‘I certainly do. It’s that girl of yours, Sandy. I’m coming down to London next week to stay with a couple of mates – they’re writers too – and I was hoping you could see your way into lending her out for a couple of days. And if she’s got any friends, all the better. I don’t know if there’s a going rate, but we’re willing to pay, obviously. Providing they’re not too dear, of course.’

  ‘I think there must be some misunderstanding,’ Michael responded, feeling the tension building inside him. ‘We don’t lend our staff out …’

  ‘Hire, then,’ Sutton cut in. ‘Or whatever else you want to call it. A mate of mine had her just before I did, that was how I came to meet her, as a matter of fact. He tells me he paid fifty quid for the evening. That was without sex, he said. I guess I got it as a courtesy, or an incentive to come over to McCann’s maybe?’ He chuckled.

  Michael’s face was white. ‘We don’t give those kinds of incentives,’ he said tightly. ‘Whatever happened between you and Sandy was between you two and had nothing to do with this agency. Is that clear?’

  ‘Oh, well, sure,’ Sutton replied, obviously smarting under the whiplash of Michael’s tongue. ‘I just thought …’

  ‘You thought wrong. I’m not a pimp, Sutton, and if you repeat anything you just told me you better have a good lawyer …’

  ‘OK, OK,’ Sutton grumbled. ‘I obviously misundertood. Sorry if I caused any offence. It wasn’t intended.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Michael said and with no goodbyes he clicked off the line and buzzed through to Jodi. ‘Tell Sandy to come in,’ he said.

  By the time she closed the door he was so angry it was all he could do to keep his voice level. ‘Sit down,’ he said shortly.

  Sandy looked at the chair, then at him. ‘Is something the matter?’ she asked shakily.

  Michael stared at her small, anxious face and the compact, curvaceous body that no matter how it was dressed contrived never to look anything but sexy. He thought of that terrible scene in the car and the night he had spent with her, and felt his anger build. He wished to God he could just spin her round and physically throw her out the door, for the position she had now put the agency in was so outrageous he could barely speak to her civilly. ‘I’ve just spoken to Slim Sutton,’ he told her.

  Sandy’s cheeks coloured, though her show of confusion was almost convincing.

  ‘He told me how you graced him with your favours,’ he went on bluntly. ‘He also told me how he met you and what you were doing at the time.’

  Sandy’s face paled. ‘What do you mean?’ she said, her chest tightening as her mind started to reel.

  ‘Fifty pounds for an evening, without sex,’ he stated.

  Her heart stopped beating and as she looked into his cold, accusing eyes she felt her world starting to fall apart. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I think you do,’ he said harshly.

  She swallowed hard and struggled to keep the panic at bay. ‘I was …’ She took another breath. ‘I – I can explain,’ she said.

  Michael’s eyes were like steel. ‘I don’t need an explanation,’ he said bitingly. ‘What I need is you out of here.’

  ‘No!’ she cried, clutching the back of the chair. ‘Please, just let me explain.’

  ‘Slim Sutton thinks I’m employing you to entice potential clients into this agency,’ he raged. ‘So how many more …?’

  ‘There aren’t any more!’ she shouted. ‘You’ve got it wrong. I didn’t …’

  ‘Fifty pounds without sex!’ he reminded her. ‘Sutton wanted to know how much it was with, since he got his first session free, courtesy of me, or so he thought. So how many others have you tried doing this with?’

  Her legs had turned weak and her mouth so dry she could barely speak. ‘No one, except Slim,’ she croaked. ‘And I didn’t do it to get him to come here …’

  ‘He thinks you did, and I’m not prepared to have anyone working for me who’s going to damage our reputation to the point where we get known as some kind of brothel. Jesus Christ, what were you thinking? Surely you …’

  ‘Please, just listen,’ she cried, hysteria building fast. ‘It’s not what you think. I did it because I had to. Because when I got to London I didn’t have any money. So I joined an escort service. It was the only way I was going to survive. I never slept with the men. I just went on dates.’

  ‘You slept with Slim Sutton.’

  ‘He didn’t pay me! I’m not what you’re trying to say I am.’

  He was shaking his head. ‘I’m sorry, you have to go,’ he said. ‘I’ll give you six months severance pay and you can choose whether you leave now or at the end of the month. But I want you gone by the time I return.’

  ‘No, you can’t,’ she cried, tears starting in her eyes as desperation surged through her. ‘Michael, please! I’m begging you. Don’t make me go. It was all a mistake, a misunderstanding … Please, Michael, listen …’

  ‘It’s too late,’ he broke in. ‘Already Sutton’s out there thinking I’m behind what you did. God only knows how many more there are.’

  ‘There aren’t any more!’ she shouted. ‘I swear it! I only slept with Slim because I wanted you and you …’

  ‘That’s enough,’ he cut across her. ‘My decision is final. Talk to Sheila, she’ll …’

  ‘No!’ she screamed. ‘Michael, no! I’ve worked hard for you. I’ve done everything I could to make you like me. I even slept with you …’

  ‘For God’s sake,’ he hissed, glancing out into the well to see everyone staring in.

  ‘I’ll do anything,’ she sobbed, ‘anything,’ and falling to her knees she clasped her hands together and gazed up at him with desperate eyes. ‘I’m begging you,’ she whispered. ‘Please don’t sack me. I love you, Michael. I …’

  ‘Get up,’ he said through his teeth.

  ‘No, not until you say I can stay.’

  He looked at her and a part of him was almost ready to relent, if only to get her off her knees. But hardening his heart he said, ‘I need to ask you …’ He broke off as the enormity of what he was about to say hit him, but he had no choice, he had to ask. ‘Did you us
e any kind of protection with these other men? Do I need to get tested?’

  ‘Oh no!’ she gasped, her eyes closing against the pain as she sank back on her knees.

  ‘Do I?’ he persisted.

  Unable to look up she merely shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘And I’m not pregnant either.’ She raised her eyes to his. ‘Do you really think I’d do that to you?’

  He looked at her and said nothing.

  ‘I would never do anything to hurt you,’ she cried. ‘You and this agency are my life. You know that.’

  His eyes fell away. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly.

  ‘No, don’t say that! Please let me keep my job. Please!’

  As she spoke he got to his feet and walked round the desk. ‘I’ll give you a good reference,’ he said, heading past her towards the door. ‘This needn’t go any further.’

  ‘No, no, no!’ she screamed, clutching his legs. ‘I’m not going. I’m staying here, where I belong. You can’t make me go. Please, don’t make me.’

  ‘Sandy, let go,’ he said firmly and wresting her arms apart he pulled her to her feet. He saw at once the terrible devastation in her eyes and for an instant he was transported to another place and time when Michelle had begged and pleaded with him too, and he had stood there, watching her, just like now, allowing himself neither pity nor mercy. But the circumstances with Michelle had been very different from these, so different they didn’t even stand comparison.

  ‘Don’t make this any harder for yourself,’ he said. ‘You don’t need …’ He stopped, suddenly not wanting to hurt her any more than he already had. He turned and was starting for the door again when she grabbed his shirt and forced him to look at her.

  ‘I know what’s going on here,’ she cried, her eyes glinting with hopelessness and pain. ‘You screwed me then you wanted to get rid of me, and this is a nice, convenient excuse.’

  He looked down at her and as she gazed up into his troubled blue eyes she could feel her heart breaking under the strain of anger and despair. ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ she insisted.

  Still he said nothing, but his silence was answer enough and as the frustration erupted inside her her fists clenched and she began beating his chest in fury. ‘You bastard!’ she cried. ‘I’m not going to let you do this. You can’t just fuck me, then throw me out. You can’t …’

  ‘People can hear you …’ he said, grabbing her hands.

  ‘Let them!’ she shouted. ‘Do you think I’m ashamed of sleeping with you, the way you are with me? I’m proud of sleeping with you. I want the whole world to know how you took me back to your flat and made love to me and let me think you loved me too …’

  ‘Sandy,’ he cut in quietly. ‘It was one night …’

  Her hand caught him so sharply across the face it cut off his words. ‘You bastard!’ she yelled. ‘It was more than one night and you know it. So say it! Go on, say it, or I’m going to tell everyone how you made me go out there and and fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry to get them to sign up with you …’

  ‘Sandy!’ Zelda’s voice cut across hers like a knife.

  Sandy rounded on her. ‘Did you know?’ she sneered. ‘Did he tell you how he got me to fuck Slim Sutton …?’

  ‘That’s enough!’ Zelda barked. ‘Go and pick up your things, I’ll take you home.’

  Sandy instantly turned back to Michael. ‘You said I could stay until the end of the month,’ she reminded him, looking so lost and bewildered for a moment it was hard to credit the change.

  ‘Do you really want to – now?’ he said softly.

  She looked down at her hands and watched her fingers twisting and writhing, then lifting her eyes back to his she said, ‘If I leave now will you take me home?’

  He looked at Zelda.

  ‘I’ll take you,’ Zelda said.

  ‘No!’ she shrieked, spinning round again. ‘He loves me, don’t you know that? You’ve seen the way he looks at me, everyone has, and this is all an act, because he doesn’t want any of you to know how he feels, when everyone knows already …’

  ‘I’ll take her home,’ Michael said.

  ‘… he loves me as much as I love him. He wants to marry me, but he’s afraid to ask in case I do what Michelle did and walk out, but I’ll never do that. I swear it, Michael. I’ll never leave you, or hurt you the way she did …’

  As she ranted and raved on, Zelda moved forward and began to lead her away. At first Michael tried to help, but Zelda gestured for him to leave it and realizing that to go with her now would probably only make things worse, he stepped back and watched them go.

  The scene was excruciating and seemed to go on for ever as Zelda and Dan manhandled her across the office and tried not to get hurt as she yelled and kicked all the way to the lift. The last thing he heard before the doors closed behind her was her screaming, ‘You’ll pay for this, Michael McCann! I swear I’m going to make you pay.’

  He knew she was hysterical, which was why the threat didn’t bother him. But later, as he thought back over the whole hideous display he found himself unsettled by the extent of her self-delusion and couldn’t help wondering how many more lies might come from it in the weeks and months ahead. But it wasn’t so much her lies that were going to cause him any loss of sleep as his own guilt at seizing an excuse to get rid of her because he didn’t want to go on facing her day after day. Even so, if she was as obsessed with him as she appeared, then firing her probably was for the best.

  Once again her parting words resounded through his head, and suddenly it was Michelle’s face he was seeing, reminding him of the day he had hurt her so badly it was hard to think of it even now. He had thought what he was doing then would be for the best, but he had paid so bitterly for what he had done in the years since that never a day went by when he didn’t regret it and want more than anything to put it right. But too much time had passed now and no matter how hard it was living like this, it was the way he had chosen and despite his recent speculations about whether maybe they could repair it, he knew it would cause too much heartache and pain to turn back now.

  Chapter 17

  MICHELLE WAS SITTING beside one of the colourful cabanas that edged the shimmering expanse of Ipanema beach. A few feet away a cluster of palms swayed in the breeze, while a hopeful young merchant struggled to lay his collection of vivid red sarongs out on the sand. Michelle watched for a while, her sandalled feet resting on an opposite chair, her long, tanned legs exposed to the blistering sun. On the table in front of her was an ice-cold glass of chopp, the local beer, and the latest report from America’s Human Rights Watch.

  She’d finished reading a few minutes ago and was now digesting the gruesome facts, while trying to equate all she’d learned with the sublime spectacle around her. It seemed so odd that nature should be at its most lovely in a place where humanity was at its most ugly, for in just the past six months the military police of this city had cold-bloodedly executed over four hundred people. Of course, they weren’t people who could fend for themselves, or could afford lawyers or who could even report the crimes committed against them. They were the poor and hungry, black and jobless, and in many cases petty thieves or drug dealers. But as the report outlined very clearly, the reason they were driven to commit the crimes was either to eat, or to satisfy the extortion of the police.

  The figures for the rest of the country were almost as bad and it always had to be borne in mind that these numbers were an official toll. So God only knew how many more had been ‘disappeared’, for the failure of families to come forward was as understandable as it was regrettable. No one wanted to talk, for fear of losing another son, brother, husband or grandson. In other words the reign of terror was becoming more effective by the day and according to the report Pastillano’s private death squad was thought to be behind more than sixty per cent of killings and illegal imprisonments.

  Squinting against the sun, Michelle gazed thoughtfully along the street where the traffic honked, roared and squealed in a
frantic bid to get from one set of lights to the next. At the very end of the beach, probably two miles from where she was sitting, a mountain rose towards the heavens, its peak shrouded in mist, its slopes bearing the burden of the world’s largest slum. It was incongruous, really, and almost laughable that the poor should have such stupendous views of the ocean, while the rich strutted about the polluted city streets like silly peacocks in a maze of grime and concrete.

  Turning to look down to the water’s edge, she broke into a smile and waved at Cara and the children who were romping about in the surf. The beach was crowded today, for it was the weekend and it was here and at the Copacabana beach where all of Rio gathered, rich or poor, young or old, carioca or mulatto, parading their glorious sun-bronzed flesh in a spectacular orgy of sensuality and vitality. Despite the hundred-degree heat, scores of cariocas were leaping up and down with volleyballs or chasing footballs, or dancing wild sambas and reggae on the scorched white sands – or thieving from unsuspecting tourists who were sizzling like steaks in the cruel rays of the sun. In places the crowds were so thick it was easy for the kids to trip and fall on to a watch or wallet, or some other prized booty and no one ever seemed to know until it was too late. Barefoot hawkers turned a blind eye to the theft as they ambled about selling T-shirts, flags, cigarettes or vibrant string bikinis for some of the world’s most beautiful women.

  Sipping her drink, Michelle watched as the boy inside the cabana cleaved open a coconut and passed it to a fat German tourist. Then, looking on down the neatly mosaiced sidewalk, she spotted Tom Chambers coming towards her and broke into a smile.

  ‘Dois chopps,’ she said to the boy in the cabana, as she noticed Antônio from the shelter, was with him. She was very fond of Antônio and would always be grateful to him for the way he had so eagerly offered Cavan his apartment for the time Cavan was in Rio. Secretly Michelle suspected that Antônio was happier sleeping at the dormitories along with the homeless boys he knew so well. He probably got lonely at the apartment, for it certainly wasn’t an environment he was used to. And providing Cavan with somewhere to live was helping her out too, for Michael would have to have a number for Cavan and though a part of her yearned for it to happen, another part of her dreaded picking up the phone one day and hearing his voice.