Deranged Marriage

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Deranged Marriage Page 29

by Faith Bleasdale


  ‘We ought to put a note of apology through their door,’ I said. Imogen (who was getting a tad annoying), was dispatched to do this. She returned triumphantly and resumed her position by the window.

  ‘Why don’t you all just piss off,’ a voice streamed up to the window.

  ‘Oh Lisa’s here,’ Imogen said, although we had guessed that.

  ‘She’s pointed at some guy, and she’s swearing at him. Oh, now she’s shoved some woman out of the way—ouch—she just kicked a photographer’s shin. She’s nudging people out of the way. Now she’s reached the front door.’ We heard her open it; Freddie had obviously told her to bring keys. We heard some more swearing and then the door slammed shut, I felt the flat shake. I went to the door to meet her.

  ‘Oh, Holly,’ she said, before engulfing me in her elfin arms. I started crying. She pulled me into the sitting room.

  ‘At least she’s out of shock,’ Freddie said.

  ‘But none of this is good for the baby,’ Lisa protested.

  I nodded. I was scared. My trance, my panic, the fact I couldn’t leave the flat, and I was supposed to be at yoga. None of this was helping the baby, or the baby’s mother.

  ‘Darling, breathe slowly.’ I was glad that Lisa had joined me for my yoga sessions because she took me through the breathing technique and it worked. I felt slightly less panicky and a smidgen more in control. Despite the fact I could hear the low murmuring of the people camped on the pavement, I could think more clearly.

  ‘Shit. That’s it,’ I said, jumping up. Everyone looked at me as if finally I had lost it. ‘No, if George thinks the baby is his, then we can tell him that this behaviour is putting the baby at risk.’

  ‘I guess it’s worth a try,’ Imogen looked unsure.

  ‘Oh God, we ought to tell Joe. I promised him I would keep him informed. He would have seen the papers this morning, all that “who’s the father stuff.” Do you think they’re stalking him? Oh shit.’

  ‘Holly, don’t get into that state again. Firstly I am going to go outside, and read this statement. Are you happy with it?’ I took it from him. Freddie was amazing. He had managed to get me calm, sort Imogen out, and type and print out a statement. I kissed his cheek and started to read: Holly Miller released a statement telling the press that she was pregnant and unsure of the paternity of the father. Her honesty has been total and we would like the press to respect that. We would also like the press to respect her privacy and leave her doorstep. If there are any developments we promise to keep you fully informed. Thank you.

  ‘I guess that sums it up,’ I said. ‘Can’t we call the police?’

  ‘Yeah because the gutter press will really go away and not come back. They’ll be back as soon as the police leave. I’ll go and read this, then I’ll come back. Holly, go and call George and Joe. Lisa, monitor her and make sure she doesn’t lose it. Imogen, get away from the window.’ Everyone jumped at Freddie’s command. Even Imogen stopped blind-twitching for a minute.

  I went to the phone and dialled Joe’s mobile number. I felt awful about what was happening to him, really awful. He answered it immediately.

  ‘Joe, it’s me,’ I said.

  ‘I wondered if you’d call, are you all right?’ I had thought he would sound angry, but he didn’t, his voice was full of concern.

  ‘I’ve got fourteen reporters outside my flat...yes fourteen, Imogen counted them.’ I tried to sound flippant about it.

  ‘I couldn’t believe the newspapers, I know you said that you’d tell them but it’s plastered everywhere.’

  ‘I am so sorry.’

  ‘They found me. I had two photographers and a reporter waiting outside my office. They took some photos of me and asked for a comment, I told them to bugger off. I don’t think that was wise.’

  ‘Joe, don’t say anything unless you want to and if you do, call me and I’ll get Freddie or Francesca to say it. The press will twist things anyway so that might be a better move. I feel really dreadful but I don’t know what to do to stop it.’

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked again.

  ‘I’m sort of coping. To be honest I’m going to call George and make a last ditch attempt to appeal to his better nature.’

  ‘Hol, even though it might not be mine, I am worried about the baby.’

  ‘So am I. That’s why I’m going to call him.’

  ‘I wish we could get the fucking test done.’

  ‘Joe, it’s too risky and even then my doctor won’t do it anyway.’ I had mixed feelings about this. I didn’t want the test, I didn’t want to lose the hope that Joe was the father, but then if it was Joe’s then life would be better. But with the risk to the baby I knew it wasn’t an option.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Sorry.’ That word had been hollowed out and stuffed with cotton wool.

  ‘Me too.’

  It was getting worse. Suddenly I felt cold.

  ‘How did it go?’ Lisa asked, although I knew she had heard my side of the conversation.

  ‘He got photographed outside his office and he told a reporter to bugger off.’

  ‘Freddie’s finished,’ Imogen announced. ‘He’s coming back in.’ I heard the door.

  ‘Lisa can you get me a jumper, I’m really cold.’ I shivered.

  ‘How did it go?’ Imogen asked, the minute Freddie walked through the door. It was then I realised she had been listening to my conversation rather than watching Freddie deliver his speech.

  ‘Not great I’m afraid, they want photos of your bump, Hol.’

  ‘Tough shit,’ Lisa said, as she returned with a cardigan.

  ‘I’m going to have to go out at some point. I’ve got an appointment with my gynaecologist.’

  ‘Maybe they’ll be gone by then,’ Imogen said hopefully, but not convincingly.

  ‘I’m calling George,’ I announced, and went back to the phone.

  ‘George, it’s Holly,’ I said, as he answered his mobile after the first ring.

  ‘Holly, how are you?’ His voice was dripping with insincere concern, he was probably with someone, or worse still being interviewed. I looked at my watch, it was four in the afternoon.

  ‘Are you alone?’ I asked.

  ‘I am,’ he said, which surprised me.

  ‘George, I’ve got a bunch of reporters and photographers camped outside my house.’

  ‘Really?’ he sounded genuinely surprised.

  ‘Yes and I’ve missed my prenatal yoga class and I can’t get to the doctor because I can’t go out.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because they are hounding me. They keep shouting for me through the letter box. Freddie went out to read a statement and they said they wanted a photo of me looking pregnant. They won’t go until they’ve got it.’ My voice had become hysterical yet again.

  ‘So let them take a photo.’ He sounded as if the paparazzi had politely asked me to let them take a photograph and I was the one being unreasonable.

  ‘George I can’t, there’s masses of them, they’re scaring me and the baby.’ I burst into unplanned tears.

  ‘Holly, I don’t control the press. The only way you can get them to leave is by coming to your senses.’ He had hung up by the time I thought of a suitable reply.

  I thought I knew it, but I realised something then, something I should have realised a lot sooner. George didn’t care about me one hoot and much worse he didn’t care about the baby. He cared about the press, his exposure and his new status as a celebrity. I know we’d discussed it, but it was only now I fully comprehended it.

  I had never worked for any famous people, I worked with brands, big companies, but I had never worked for an individual. But George had taken advantage of the new celebrity. No longer did you need to sing and dance, all you needed was to get some exposure and there you go. You can book a table in the Ivy and you’re a celeb. Go to parties, go to premieres, go anywhere that will have you and will give you some publicity, any publicity. George was dangerous when he took me
to court, dangerous when he first went to the press but now he was more than dangerous, he was famous and would do anything to stay that way.

  Freddie came over and hugged me as he saw the panic-stricken look appear on my face. I think he had already worked out what I had just realised. Imogen had moved away from the window and she was fidgeting, clearly as baffled as I was about what to do. Lisa had gone to the kitchen and come back with some biscuits and she had also made a pot of coffee. Lisa being practical was almost as scary as the people on my doorstep.

  There are situations where the people around you, the people that care about you, have a really tough time. This was one of them. I knew that no one really knew what to do, that Freddie had tried his best and been unsuccessful, that Imogen and Lisa felt helpless, and I was falling apart. I could feel myself coming apart and I knew that I couldn’t let it happen. Rationalising, I realised that they wouldn’t doorstep me for ever. They’d lose interest before I needed to go out. Surely. I grabbed my Palm Pilot and checked my diary. I had a yoga lesson, which I could skip, a birthing lesson that wasn’t until the beginning of the following week, and an appointment with the hospital. I realised how much my life had changed, I was used to having a diary with stuff in it, now it was empty. I walked over to the table and fired up my laptop.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Imogen asked.

  ‘I’m going to do some work. Freddie, shall we?’ Freddie came to join me and we checked my e-mails, sent one to Francesca, then we started working.

  ‘What should I do?’ Imogen asked, still looking anxious. I glanced at Freddie and smiled.

  ‘What would be really great is if you and Lisa could go and get me some clothes. I mean I can’t go out and my waistline has expanded at an alarming rate since last week. I’m getting really fat.’

  ‘You do look a bit porky,’ Freddie chipped in, supportively but not sweetly.

  ‘But you need to choose,’ Imogen protested, ignoring Freddie as I kicked him in the shin. Actually that action made me feel better than anything else had.

  ‘I trust you and Lisa.’ Actually I trusted Lisa. ‘I don’t have any cash but I’ll give you a cheque if you pay.’ I knew that Imogen had about a million credit cards.

  ‘What a good idea,’ Lisa said catching my eye.

  ‘How do we get through the press?’ Imogen asked, still not convinced.

  ‘Just walk past them, as long as you make sure they don’t get in the front door, you should be all right,’ Freddie responded while typing an e-mail to our team in the office.

  ‘Yeah, come on Immi, if anyone gives us any shit I’ll sort them out.’ For a minute Lisa sounded like an extra from a Guy Ritchie film, but I smiled, gratefully.

  ‘What size? I mean what size do we get?’ Ah, I had no idea about that.

  ‘Just buy expanding things, I’m sure that’s all you need to do if you go to a maternity shop.’ Finally Imogen seemed convinced.

  ‘Good idea, we’ll be really helping won’t we?’

  ‘Absolutely, even my tracksuit is straining on me.’ I smiled and waved them off.

  I heard the door shut behind them, then I heard them walking down the stairs. Both Freddie and I peaked round the blind to see them emerge on to the doorstep. The second the door opened the cameras went off.

  ‘Shit, I’m blind,’ Lisa said, pulling Imogen out of the doorway and slamming it.

  ‘Are you friends of Holly’s?’ someone asked.

  ‘Actually I’m her sister and I’d appreciate it if you left us in peace.’

  ‘Yeah, just fuck off,’ Lisa added for good measure. I just couldn’t wait to see the quotes in the papers.

  ‘Have we done the right thing sending those two out together?’ Freddie asked, smiling.

  ‘Who cares, at least they can do something useful and also stop pacing my flat. I’ll need to put down a new floor by the time Imogen leaves.’

  ‘Which is when?’

  ‘Well, according to mum’s roster in three days’ time, but she is insisting on staying until the press leave.’

  ‘Oh dear.’

  ‘Well it’s another incentive to get rid of them. Do you think I should give them a photo?’

  ‘No they’ve written and will continue to write horrible things about you. You don’t owe them anything.’

  ‘I know, but at least we might be able to get them to leave.’

  ‘No, Holly, trust me on this. They’ll start to trail away when they realise you’re not coming out.’

  ‘But I might have to go out at some stage.’

  ‘Disguise?’

  ‘Let’s get this finished.’ I turned back to my laptop screen and lost myself in work.

  It made me feel like a person again. Not just a person but a useful person. Here I was worrying about George; being pregnant; missing Joe; having the press on my doorstep—that was Holly. I lost the person I used to be; career girl; smart; slim; in control. That person had disappeared and I was now trying to figure out how life was, or what it would be like. Baby; job; no partner; that was my future, and I was so busy thinking about that that I’d stopped thinking about anything else. Now, as we wrote a proposal, I felt as if I was normal again. And feeling normal was the best feeling in the world.

  ‘Do you know how long it is since we had a good old heart to heart?’ I felt as if I had lost my grip on not only my life, but the lives of those around me.

  ‘You’re totally self-absorbed,’ Freddie quipped.

  ‘I am, it’s true.’

  ‘Hol, there’s a lot going on.’

  ‘Yes but that’s no excuse to lose sight of what is happening around me. Tell me something.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Are you seeing anyone? Have you come any closer to falling in love or are you still tarting around?’

  ‘Pot and kettle.’

  ‘Freddie, don’t start.’

  ‘Well, I’m a bit busy at work to be falling in love.’

  ‘You see, I’m not only ruining my life but I’m ruining everyone else’s.’

  ‘No, you’re not. Actually I’m enjoying being given more responsibility at work and I’m also handling it quite well. It’s good for me to have time to put my career first.’

  ‘Well there’s no doubt that you are more than capable of doing my job.’

  ‘I’m not trying to take your job.’

  ‘I’m not saying that. I wouldn’t let you if you were. No, I’m talking about promotion. I’m going to be trapped in here for God knows how long, and then I’m going to be on maternity leave, and I’ve spoken to Francesca and we think we should re-organise the company, especially as it’s expanding. It’s a case of us all expanding our roles, that’s all.’

  ‘If you’re sure.’

  ‘Well, you’re basically doing my job, so you should get paid more and get a title to go with it. I’m going to work full time when I’ve had junior here, but I’ll probably take on a more administrative role, that’s what I’ve discussed with Francesca.’

  ‘So you’ve both been scheming behind my back.’

  ‘Course we have, we’re women.’

  ‘I should go and work in a male-dominated environment, I think I’m losing my testosterone.’

  ‘That’ll be the day. So, no lucky ladies on the scene?’

  ‘None. I am going to leave women for the minute and concentrate on my career.’

  ‘How grown up of you. Or is it because you’ve run out of people in the office to sleep with?’

  ‘Ouch. I’ve never slept with you or Francesca.’

  ‘But you want to.’

  ‘Not with you. Seriously, I wouldn’t mind if she wasn’t my boss but I think there’s something a bit sordid about sleeping with the boss. I’ll stick to her PAs.’

  ‘You are awful.’

  ‘I know, but Pippa is really quite cute.’

  ‘And very willing.’

  ‘Well, there is that.’

  ‘I’ve missed this.’

  ‘What, my sex life
?’

  ‘Just banter, normal banter, I only talk about myself nowadays. I’ve become self-obsessed and a complete bore.’

  ‘Well I’m not going to argue with you and if that was why you said it, it’s backfired.’

  ‘You’re a good friend, Freddie, I really mean that.’

  ‘You’re not bad either.’

  ‘Better than George?’

  ‘Not difficult.’

  ‘Freddie, if there is ever anything that I can do for you, anything, you have to promise to ask me.’

  ‘Oh, I intend to. First there’s the pay rise and the promotion, and then there’s putting me in charge of hiring the female staff, oh the list will be endless.’

  And if there’s anything that isn’t incredibly shallow, you can ask me for that too.’ We looked at each other and laughed. Friendship can never be overrated.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  We worked solidly until I noticed the time, it was six thirty, and I realised that there was no sign of Imogen and Lisa.

  ‘They’ve been gone ages.’

  ‘Women and shopping.’ Freddie shrugged.

  ‘What if they had a fight? Lisa could have killed her.’

  ‘Hol, this isn’t an action film. They’ll probably come back the best of friends.’

  ‘It feels like an action film. Under Siege, that’s what it is.’ I stood up and looked out of the window, through the tiny gap in the blind. Imogen had developed a technique for doing it without being seen, which I copied. The phone rang. I looked at Freddie, but I answered it anyway.

  ‘Holly, are you all right?’ It was my father.

  ‘Oh Daddy, there are a load of journalists outside.’

  ‘I know, Imogen called. How are you bearing up?’

  ‘I’m lucky, I’ve got Freddie, Imogen and Lisa here, although the girls have gone shopping.’

  ‘Do you want us to come up?’

  ‘No, we’ll be OK. What about you guys?’ If I hated being hounded by the press the thing I hated more was the idea that they were doing the same to my parents.

 

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