“Look,” he said, his voice conciliatory, “I’m sorry that I’ve had to speak to you like this. We won’t mention it again, OK?”
Still without speaking, she turned quickly and went back into the kitchen. He watched her go. He didn’t trust her. She was an actress, and a damned good one. And again, not for the first time, he remembered that she had said she knew his wife. He would have to watch her. Or perhaps more to the point, he would have to watch himself.
“Feel like some food?” Ellamarie asked.
“Mmm, yes, I do.”
“Shall we go out? We can always go somewhere in the King’s Road. Have a pizza or something?”
Bob thought about it. “I’d rather stay here. Why don’t I go out and get a takeaway?”
“Sure. What do you fancy?”
“Chinese?”
She nodded. “Shall I come with you?”
He shook his head. “No need.” It was a good opportunity to get to a phone and ring his wife. Something he had been meaning to do all day, but the afternoon rehearsal hadn’t ended until five and he hadn’t had the opportunity, with Ellamarie being so close at hand.
He picked up his keys from the bureau and, stooping to kiss her, left.
Ellamarie was particularly excited about tonight’s performance. All her friends were going to be there, and they were going on for dinner after, at the Villa Dei Cesari. She was sad, though, that her father couldn’t be there too. He would adore the play, she just knew it. She would mail him copies of the reviews.
One critic had gone so far as to say that Ellamarie Goold was someone to look out for in the future, “I’m sure,” he had written, “that we will be seeing a lot more of this gifted and beautiful young actress”. She wished she could be there to see his face when her father read that. He would be real proud. Her mother probably would be too, but her mother hardly ever showed any emotion. Poppa had thought to call her at the theatre before she went on last night, and it had meant so much to her. It had been so long since she had last seen him.
She undressed and went to fill the tub.
She was longing to know what Bob had said to Maureen earlier, but knew she couldn’t ask. He didn’t like to discuss what went on between him and other members of the company. This was as much for her sake as for theirs.
She had played with the idea of telling him that Maureen had a fad for him, but she hadn’t. Hell, what was the point anyway, Maureen would get over it. A pity Blanche’s cousin, whatever his name was, had gone back to the States so soon.
The phone began to ring, so she pulled a wrap round her and went to answer it.
It was Kate calling to wish her good luck, and to tell her that her mother and father wouldn’t be able to make it after all.
“Is Joel still coming?” Ellamarie asked.
“You bet he is. He’s picking me up at seven thirty. Does that leave us enough time to get there?”
“Plenty. It doesn’t start till eight thirty. By the way, Nicholas Gough was asking about you today.”
“Oh God!” said Kate. “What was he saying?”
“Just asked if you were coming tonight.”
“What did you say?”
“I said you were. I didn’t tell him Joel was coming as well, though.”
“He doesn’t expect . . .”
“Uh-uh,” said Ellamarie. “At least, I don’t think so.”
“He wasn’t too terribly cross about me going off with Joel when we were at the Ritz, was he?”
“He didn’t say he was. But I think he was a bit put out. After all, it was you who asked me to fix you up all those months ago.”
“Well, he certainly took his time getting interested,” Kate complained.
“He was seeing someone else.”
“Oh well, too bad. He’s missed the boat now, I’m afraid.”
“He’s a nice guy, Kate.”
“Oh don’t, you’re making me feel guilty. Have you spoken to any of the others today? I’m supposed to be meeting them in the bar.”
“Jenneen called earlier. She’s bringing Matthew. And wait for it, Ashley is bringing a friend.”
“No! Who?”
“Search me. Someone she met in a restaurant, I think she said.”
“But who is he?”
“No idea. But she says we’ll just love him.”
“I can’t wait,” said Kate. “Did she tell you what happened last Saturday, at the office?”
“No.”
“It was so
awful.
It was Julian. He got hold of her, apparently, and tried to kiss her. Told her that he was sorry, and could he see her again.”
“Jesus Christ! What did she do?”
“Well, apparently Conrad Thingummy broke them up. Just as well, by the sound of it, as Blanche was on her way up the stairs. Seems as soon as Julian heard Blanche’s name mentioned he turned white and disappeared, leaving poor Ash to contend with that philistine from New York.”
“What did Conrad say?”
“Plenty, all of it insulting. They had quite the most furious row. But then little Alex walked in on them, and Ashley said that Conrad’s manner suddenly changed, became something approaching human when Alex appeared. But what do you make of Julian, though? I mean, can you believe it? But at least even Ashley got mad this time.”
“He’s a selfish, egotistical bastard,” Ellamarie snapped, surprising Kate with her vehemence. There was a short pause.
“I was going to ask,” said Kate, a little less animated now, “but, well, has Bob said anything to his wife yet?”
Ellamarie sighed. “Well, if he has, he sure hasn’t told me. So I figure we can take it that he hasn’t.”
“Oh, Ellamarie. Are you cross?”
“As hell. But what I can say? And now is not the time. Not with the play just opening and all.”
“Where is he now?”
“Just coming in through the door. He’s been to get a takeaway.”
“You mean you can eat?” Kate cried. “Aren’t you terribly nervous?”
“Nothing stops me from eating,” said Ellamarie. “Anyway, I’d better go, he’s banging around in the kitchen to let me know he’s back, like a spoilt child. Needs constant attention, does Bob.”
“Like all men,” Kate laughed.
Ellamarie hung up and went into the kitchen to find Bob picking at the food.
“Can’t you wait?” she said.
“I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Well, let’s at least get it onto plates,” and she whisked the cartons from his hands.
He stood watching her while she banged the drawers open and closed, took out knives and forks, and salt and pepper, and all but slammed them on the table.
“Are you angry about something?” he asked.
“No.”
“Who was that on the phone?”
“Kate.”
“Is she coming tonight?”
“Yes. With Joel.”
“Oh, she’s still seeing him, is she?”
“Yes. Why not? You sound surprised?”
Bob looked at her. “Something’s eating you, Ellamarie. What is it?”
“Nothing’s eating me. I already told you.”
She reached the plates down from the cupboard, and dished out the meal. Then she turned on the oven, and put hers inside.
“What are you doing?” he said.
“Keeping mine warm. I’m going to bath first.”
“And there was me thinking you’d got undressed for me.”
She didn’t laugh.
He shrugged and sat down at the table with his food.
When she came out of the bathroom, he was sitting in front of the TV, watching Ann Hollier and David Flood being interviewed by Terry Wogan.
“I’d forgotten they were on,” she said. “Have I missed much?”
“It’s almost over.”
“Then why didn’t you call me?”
He looked at her, blankly.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t think.”
“I guess you never do,” she remarked.
“Ellamarie, will you stop this. If I’ve done something to upset you, why don’t you just spit it out?”
She looked away, and dug her fork into the food that she had brought in with her. But her appetite had vanished. She pushed the plate away.
“Something the matter?”
“Why don’t you quit asking me if something is the matter?”
“For God’s sake,” he said. “Suddenly I can’t say anything right.”
“People who don’t say anything at all, usually don’t.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it said.”
“Then forgive me for being stupid, but I don’t understand.”
“That’s just it, isn’t it, Bob. You don’t understand!”
“If I knew what it was that I was supposed to be understanding, then perhaps I could try.”
“Try understanding that you made me a promise before Christmas, one that you appear to have conveniently forgotten.”
“What promise?”
“Oh, that’s rich!” she cried. “What promise? You know what promise. The promise that you would tell your wife about us. The promise you made to me that we would be together. The promise . . .”
Bob stood up and switched off the TV. “Why have you suddenly brought this up now?” He turned round to face her, but she was staring out of the window. He walked over and pulled the curtains.
“Because I hardly ever think about anything else.”
“But now, before a performance?”
“Yes, even now, before a performance. There are other things in my life, Bob, besides acting. And you happen to be one of them. At least, I thought you were.”
“You’re getting worked up about nothing, Ellamarie.”
“Don’t patronise me,” she shouted. “It might be nothing to you, but it’s not to me. And that’s it, isn’t it? It’s nothing to you. This whole goddamned thing, it means nothing to you. I don’t matter. You didn’t even call me over Christmas. You must have known what I would be going through. Joel came round to see Kate on Boxing Day, and do you know, when he knocked on the door I was actually stupid enough to think that it was you who had arrived. I was fool enough to think that you had kept your promise, that you had told her, and that you were coming to tell me everything was all right. How goddamned stupid can anyone get? But I should have known better. Jesus Christ, I should have known better. You’re weak, Bob McElfrey. You’re weak, and spineless. You thought you could keep me hanging on, dangling around like some brainless puppet. Well, I’ve got feelings too! I hurt too, you know. But then, why should you care? You’ve got her and her goddamned horses, and you’ve got me, and the theatre. Why should you want to lose any of it? You’ve got everything, you bastard! And don’t walk away when I’m talking to you!”
“I’m walking away,” he said, “because you are being irrational. You don’t know what you’re saying, and I don’t want a row before the performance; neither do you. We’ll discuss this later.”
“Like hell we will!” she yelled. He stopped in the doorway, but didn’t turn round. “There won’t be a later,” she went on. “There is no later for me and you, Bob, do you hear me? No later! No more! I’m sick of it, and I’m sick of you!”
He turned back and she saw that his face had paled. “I think you should stop now, Ellamarie, before you say something you will regret.”
“I’m saying we’re through. Finished. Over! Do you understand? We’re through. Now there’s the door.”
“I’m driving you to the theatre.”
“I can drive myself. Now get out! Go!”
She saw his jaw tighten, and she knew that he was barely managing to control his own temper. “Go and get dressed. I’ll wait until you’re ready. Then I’ll take you to the theatre.”
“The theatre, sure, where the rest of your fan club is waiting. Maureen Woodley now, isn’t it?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t kid me. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and don’t tell me you haven’t. How much encouragement have you given her. Bob? Is she next in line? Get rid of Ellamarie Goold, bring on Maureen Woodley. You’re like one of them goddamned horses your wife keeps. You’re a stud! Well, this is one mare that doesn’t need servicing any more.”
Bob glared at her. “You’re disgusting, Ellamarie. And if that’s the way you feel, then perhaps you’re right, we’d better say goodbye now. See you get to the theatre on time,” and picking up his coat, he slammed out of the flat.
That night Ellamarie Goold gave the best performance of her life. Not that anyone noticed particularly; only she knew how she was feeling inside.
After Bob had left, she had thrown herself onto the couch and cried and cried. She knew she had gone too far. She had said so many things she didn’t mean. Something inside her had snapped, and she had lost control. She was terrified that he wouldn’t forgive her. That she had spoiled everything, and that he would never come back to her.
When she arrived at the theatre he was in his office and his secretary had told her that he didn’t want to be disturbed, so she went back downstairs and shut herself in her dressing room, and locked the door. She didn’t want to see anyone, not till curtain up. Oh yes, she would go on. After attacking him with her cruel and suspicious mind, she couldn’t let him down again.
Making up to go on, she looked at herself in the mirror, but could only see his face, hurt and confused, looking at her, not knowing why she was saying what she was saying. How could she have done it to him? Bob, who had only loved her, cherished her even, and would never deliberately do anything to hurt her.
There were three curtain calls, interminable, and prolonging her agony. She had to get off. She must get away, before she broke down again.
She ran back to her dressing room, and again locked the door. Somebody knocked, several times, but she didn’t answer. She knew it wouldn’t be him. He would have no more to say to her.
She lit a cigarette. It wasn’t often she smoked these days, Bob didn’t like it, so she had tried to give it up. But she needed something now, to calm her nerves.
She thought back over the past two years, and all the times they had spent together. But hadn’t she always known in her heart that one day this hour would arrive? When it would be all over. Married men never leave their wives, she had always told herself that, even though she had never wanted to believe it. Not men like Bob. He was loyal, and honest, and she had never considered what it cost him to cheat on his wife, even if he didn’t love her any more. Yes, she knew that this day would come sooner or later. And sometimes, in bleak moments, usually at the weekend, she had imaged how it would be. A tender, heartrending parting, with both of them doing the sensible thing. Not like this. They had never had a real fight before – and it was all her doing.