Plain Jane in the Spotlight (19 page)

Charlene never forgot her first sight of Paris. It was a glorious day, with the city showing at its glamorous best as they made their way to La Couronne. From the outside, the hotel still looked like a palace. Inside, it presented a traditional appearance, but beneath the surface was every modern convenience.

A man with a faint resemblance to Marcel was waiting on the huge stone stairway that led up to the hotel entrance. This must be Darius, Charlene thought, watching him greet Travis.

‘Let’s leave the three of them to talk,’ Cassie said. ‘I’ll show you to your suite.’

Of course they had put them together, Charlene realised. To have asked for separate rooms when they were known to be living together would have invited suspicion.

‘You’re all on the same floor,’ Cassie explained. ‘Darius and Harriet have rooms just along the corridor, Jackson’s around the corner, then Leonid, and over here is for Amos and his wife, and Freya.’

‘If they come,’ Charlene said wryly.

‘I’m crossing my fingers. It will make Marcel very sad if Amos snubs him.’

They were accommodated in a grandiose suite, dominated by a double bed so huge that the occupants could hardly be described as sleeping together. Cassie showed her out onto the balcony, from where they could see a cab drawing up to the entrance and a young woman descend.

‘That’s Freya,’ Cassie said. ‘And she’s alone. Freya! Up here!’

But no Amos, Charlene thought with sinking heart. She knew a spurt of anger at the thought of Travis’s disappointment.

I’m being absurd
, she reproved herself.
It’s Marcel who’s being rejected, not Travis.

But she knew that he would feel it the most.

Freya and Cassie greeted each other as old friends, reminding Charlene that Freya had helped raise the money for the hotel investment. She was a brisk, efficient young woman, attractive without being glamorous. She and Charlene took to each other at once.

‘Why are you here alone?’ Cassie asked. ‘Aren’t Amos and your mother coming?’

‘I hope so. I left them arguing about it. Amos is still displeased with me for helping Marcel to marry you, but he doesn’t rule my life, and so I told him.’

‘Good for you,’ Cassie said at once, adding wickedly to Charlene, ‘You want to watch out. He’ll be trying to marry Freya to Travis next.’

Freya winked. ‘Don’t worry. Travis doesn’t interest me.’

‘It wouldn’t bother me if he did,’ Charlene said, laughing. ‘Be my guest. He’s all yours.’

‘Excuse me,’ said a voice from the door. ‘Did I hear that right?’

Travis was standing there, clearly enjoying the joke. Freya threw herself into his arms with a delighted cry.

‘Trust you to come in at the wrong moment,’ Cassie observed.

He gave a melodramatic sigh. ‘Don’t worry, I’m used to rejection. Freya, it’s lovely to see you.’

There came a noise from the corridor outside. Cassie and Freya dashed out, crying, ‘Leonid, Jackson!’ followed by Travis.

Charlene followed more slowly and received a surprise at the sight of the two men. One she recognised as Jackson Falcon, whom she’d often seen on television, fronting nature programmes. The other man bore such a strong resemblance to Travis that it was startling. He had the same lean features, generous mouth and dark eyes. The difference lay in the atmosphere that clung to him. Travis’s air was light-hearted and charming. Leonid Falcon carried a brooding melancholy that seemed to come from a darker world.

He greeted everyone with quiet courtesy, speaking in a heavily accented voice, but then seemed to stand back, watching with cautious eyes.

Now Marcel and Darius were there, revving up spirits for the evening ahead.

‘We’re going to have a great party,’ Marcel announced. ‘It’s too long since we all saw each other, and we’re going to make the most of it.’

A cheer went up. The fun had started.

The family dined together. Charlene got on especially well with Harriet, Darius’s bride from the island of Herringdean.

‘Everyone wants to meet you,’ she said, plumping down beside her and offering a glass of wine. ‘The girl who’s won Travis’s heart.’

Charlene made a laughing reply, but the words,
If only,
flitted through her brain.

‘You know, of course, how Marcel nearly ruined his own chances when Darius and I got married,’ Harriet added.

‘By taking my cue from my daft brother,’ Marcel put in, joining them.

‘Don’t blame me,’ Travis protested, appearing behind him. ‘It was the character, a virtuous, magical being, not me. Some people can’t tell the difference.’

‘Nonsense. I could tell the difference between you and a virtuous being without any trouble,’ Marcel declared, and a cheer went up from the others.

This was what Travis had secretly yearned for all his life, Charlene thought; the support and cheerful companionship of people who were linked to him by unbreakable ties. She felt a glow of pleasure in the happiness he must be feeling.

La Couronne prided itself on being international. English and American newspapers were on sale, and the guests could receive television channels in several languages. So it wasn’t a surprise when a pile of papers on a low table turned out to contain a showbiz publication, sporting the headline
Who Will Be The Man From Heaven?

‘Why, that’s my brother, of course,’ Darius declared with mock indignation. ‘Nobody else need apply.’

Amid laughter, he read out a highly coloured piece about the rivalry between Travis Falcon and Alaric Lanley, phrased to make it sound as though the two were at each other’s throats.

‘“Both great stars,”’ Darius read, ‘“both poised to seize the next huge chance and brook no opposition, both ready to explode in the firmament. The entertainment world watches breathless as these two giants fight it out.”’

Cheers, laughter. Then sudden silence. Everyone looked up to see a man and woman standing in the doorway.

The man was in his seventies, tall, white-haired, with features that were stern and uncompromising. He stood looking around at the gathering, as though their silence was a tribute that he accepted as natural.

Amos Falcon.

‘Good evening,’ he said.

Charlene had seen his picture in newspapers, but in the flesh he was different, more vibrant, more—she fought for the words—more menacing.

It was easy to believe that he’d made enemies, fought them, crushed them, seldom been defeated. Formidable as a foe, perhaps formidable as a friend, certainly formidable as a father.

At the sight of Travis he nodded, speaking gruffly but cordially. ‘Glad to see you. Wasn’t sure you’d make the journey, such a distance.’

‘You don’t think I’d let Marcel tie the knot without being there to chuck things at him, do you?’ Travis grinned.

Then Amos did something that took everyone by surprise. Laying a hand on his son’s shoulder, he said, ‘Just make sure your aim is good.’

The others looked at each other, startled. Amos had actually made a joke, and with his least favourite son. Whatever was the world coming to?

To cap it all, when he made his way to a seat it was Travis he urged to come with him.

‘Haven’t seen you in a long time, except on television, of course. Can’t get away from you there.’

‘Sorry if that bothers you,’ Travis said, knowing Amos had never been a fan of his career.

But his father surprised him again.

‘Doesn’t bother me. Good to see you doing well. Show business is like anything else. If you climb high you become somebody. There’s profit to be had.’

‘I think I’m beginning to understand this,’ Harriet murmured. ‘Somebody’s told Poppa Falcon that Travis’s career prospects have suddenly leapt up to the heights.’

‘Right,’ Cassie agreed. ‘It’s one thing to have a TV series, but quite another to be a big film star.’

‘But does he know anything about film stars?’ Charlene asked. ‘I wouldn’t think he acknowledged their existence.’

‘I think I may be responsible for that,’ Freya said with a laugh. ‘I’ve always been a big fan of Alaric Lanley.’

‘I’m not surprised. He’s gorgeous.’ Harriet sighed.

Darius glanced up. ‘Did you say something?’

‘Not a thing,’ she told him cheekily. ‘Never mind me. Go back to making money.’

‘Yes, dear.’

For a moment his severe aspect faded and he exchanged a conspiratorial smile with his wife that revealed a hidden world beneath their conventional exteriors.

How lucky they are, Charlene thought. Would it ever be the same for herself and Travis? They exchanged many smiles, even spoke with affection, but there was still a barrier that they hadn’t brought down.

‘Amos saw me reading stuff about Lanley,’ Freya continued, ‘and he started looking through it. That’s how he discovered how big he is, how much money he’s making, how he can take his pick of the roles.’

‘Ah, I see,’ Harriet murmured. ‘So when he discovered that Travis was challenging him and was expected to win, suddenly Travis looked different.’

‘Someone he might actually be proud of,’ Charlene added. ‘Even boast about.’

‘And who’d make an amount of money that even Amos would have to take seriously,’ Cassie added.

The three women nodded solemnly.

At last Travis drew his father in Charlene’s direction.

‘Father, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.’

Amos knew her at once, she realised. Clearly he’d been following the press reports and needed nobody to tell him who she was or what part she played in Travis’s public persona. He looked her up and down, nodding in a satisfied way. After that he spared her few words. If she’d been concerned for herself she might have been offended, but she cared only how this affected Travis, so she said what was necessary and retreated to leave him with his father.

The other women did the same, drifting to the far end of the room for a final coffee before bed.

‘They’ll probably talk all night,’ Harriet muttered. ‘I need a good sleep to get ready for tomorrow, and I’m sure Cassie does.’

‘What about poor Charlene?’ Cassie said. ‘She must be so jet-lagged after that long flight.’

Yet, far from being jet-lagged, she felt vibrantly alive. At this moment she badly wanted to be with Travis, but she knew he would probably be a long time. At least, she hoped so. The longer Amos kept him there the better.

They were joined by Janine, Amos’s current wife and Freya’s mother. Charlene liked her at once, especially when she gave a humorous account of how she’d persuaded her husband to attend the wedding.

‘He snubbed Darius’s wedding. If he’d snubbed this one too he’d have looked ridiculous. Amos couldn’t bear that.’

‘He can’t snub them all just because they don’t marry me.’ Freya chuckled. ‘He’ll run out of sons to snub. Silly man.’

‘Don’t let him hear you say that,’ her mother warned. ‘He’s very fond of you. That’s why he wants you in the family. But there’s only Jackson and Leonid left, so you’d better make a choice soon.’

Freya glanced over to the corner, where Jackson and Leonid could both be seen.

‘Perhaps I’ve already made it,’ she said mysteriously.

They began to drift away. Charlene gave Travis a wave, then flapped her hand, indicating for him to go back to his father. He smiled.

She was feeling good as she went up to their suite. There she had a shower, donned a nightdress and settled down to watch television. By mysterious luck one channel had just begun to show
The Man From Heaven
with French subtitles, which she enjoyed enormously.

‘Something funny?’ Travis asked, coming in a couple of hours later and finding her laughing.

‘You,’ she said, pointing at the screen. ‘There’s no getting away from you, is there?’

He grinned. ‘My father said something like that, but he actually seemed to think it might be a good thing.’

‘It’s really going well, isn’t it?’

‘Well, he’s listening to what I say, which makes a change.’

‘I’m so happy for you.’ She threw herself back on the bed. ‘Oh, it was a great night, even before he came. A real family occasion!’

‘You mean with my brothers sending me up something rotten?’ he said, grinning.

‘Yes, exactly. That’s what families do, send each other up rotten, but still be there for each other.’ She was helping him undress and hanging up his clothes.

‘Isn’t it lovely that your father’s here?’ she remarked.

‘It’s good for Marcel that he didn’t snub him,’ Travis conceded slowly.

‘And you?’

‘And me, yes. But—’ he dropped down beside her and gently brushed the hair back from her forehead ‘—right this minute—’

‘You know I’m here if you need me.’

‘I do need you. You know that. You point the way for me, and somehow it always turns out to be the right way. I’m only afraid—’ he stopped uneasily ‘—I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong idea now.’

‘How have I done that?’

‘This suite. I should have asked you first but I didn’t tell them to put us together, they just assumed. Everyone thinks…I’m sorry if I’ve put you in an awkward position.’

She had hoped for much from this night, but now she sensed that emotionally he was backing away again, reminding her how shocked he’d been at the suggestion of marriage. But she concealed her disappointment.

‘How have you put me in an awkward position?’ she demanded. ‘Everyone knows we’re living under the same roof in Los Angeles. This was bound to happen. Now stop talking like a Victorian parson and come to bed, because the jet lag has caught up with me and I’m about to zonk out.’

‘Me too,’ he said, getting in beside her. ‘As long as you’re not offended.’

‘Go to sleep!’

* * *

Next morning they were up early to prepare for the wedding. All around them they could hear the family in the other suites and sometimes outside in the corridor, where Freya was having a lively argument with her mother.

‘If you really want to please your father, the answer’s simple,’ Charlene said as lightly as she could manage. ‘Just marry Freya.’

He was sitting on the bed. Now he put his head on one side, seeming to consider.

‘Really?’ he mused. ‘I don’t think so. The fact is—I’d rather marry you.’