Star Attraction (23 page)

Fortunately the park was quiet, so
no one paid much attention to her as she sat there with her head in her
hands.
 

Then a church clock across the
park struck the hour, and Zaira realized Brad would be waiting for her back at
the apartment.
 
What was she to
do?
 
How could she show this to
him, confront him with it?
 
How did
she feel about him now?
 
She had
loved him, but how could she continue to love a man who exploited people in
such an appalling away?

Zaira was just about to sweep all
the papers into the bin angrily, when something caught her eye in one of the
photos.
 
She stared at it again,
and then picked up another paper.
 
She blinked, blinked again, then held the paper up to her face for a
closer look.

Zaira sat quietly for a few
seconds, her heart pounding as she realized the seriousness of this attack
against Brad.
 
And where it had
come from.
 
She had almost believed
the photos herself, and she
loved
Brad. Even with everyone knowing the wonders of digital
photography these days, the rest of the world was going to condemn him
completely once they saw these damning photos.

“My God,” she said out loud.
 
“I’m going to lose him no matter
what.
 
This may not be true, but
what happens when Brad finds out....”

Zaira ran for the nearest payphone
as though her life depended on it.
 
She rang Matt at home, and gushed out the story quickly.

“Damn, it, I don’t believe this,”
Matt whistled.
 
“What are you going
to do?
 
What has Brad said?”

“Nothing, I’m on the corner by the
park at the minute.
 
But I’m going
to have to go back and tell him now.
 
What if he turns on the radio or TV and hears something?”

“You’re right there, you’d better
not hang around any more.
 
Go to
him, and get his side of the story.”

“I don’t need to. I know the whole
story. The problem is proving it. I need your help, Matt, to keep Brad
safe.
 
Can you get away for a
couple of days?”

“Well, yes, I suppose so," he
said in confusion.

“Then give me about an hour to get
ready, and take some stuff for a long trip.”

“Where are we going?”

“I’ll tell you when I’ve decided.”

Zaira raced back to the apartment
building, and the front door was pulled open by a very worried-looking Brad.

“Where have you been?
 
I’ve been trying to hold breakfast for
you, then in the end I had to eat by myself,” Brad complained.

Zaira clutched the newspapers to
her bosom, and said, “I met up with an old friend, and I've had a bit of
thinking to do.
 
Come upstairs and
I'll tell you all about it.”

Once they were inside the
apartment, Zaira sat him down and handed him the papers wordlessly.
 
 
The roar of shock and anger shook the room as he bellowed,
“I’m innocent.
 
Surely you don’t
think...”

“I know,” she soothed as she
wrapped her arms around him.
 
“But
people believe what they see, or think they see, and these photos are pretty
damning.”

“I must go back home now, see if
there's anything I can do to clear myself.”

He started to rise from the sofa,
but Zaira pushed him back down gently.
 

“There's no point.
 
This would be a federal charge,
under-aged girls.
 
They would put
you straight into prison.
 
Besides
that, whoever decided to organize this whole scandal won’t let it rest
there.
 
If that person is bent on
destroying you, there's bound to be more than this.”

“Who would hate me so much?”

“I don’t know Brad, but the point
is you can’t risk going back.”

“What do you suggest I do then,
just sit around waiting for a miracle?” Brad spat.

“No, I suggest you leave the
country,” Zaira answered quietly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. That will
make it seem as if I'm guilty, like I'm running away!” Brad argued.

“Or it will give you the chance to
stay out of prison, and find out who's responsible.
 
Your father is in England.
 
Go to him, explain what has happened, and ask for his help.”

“His help?
 
He will probably believe me guilty of
every single disgusting thing in those papers,” he scoffed.

“No, he won’t.
  
He loves you, I know he
does.
 
I'm sure if you ask for his
help, he'll give it. Just try not to be so angry with him.
 
If you expect rejection, chances are
you'll be right.
 
But he's your
father. I can’t see him turning his back on you.”

“I think I should go back to LA.”

“No, you can’t. Do you have a
passport with you?
 
We’re going to
have to make some arrangements.”

“I’ve got it
 
with me, luckily.
 
What have you in mind?” Brad asked,
suddenly looking at her with renewed interest.

“I think you have to get on the
first flight to London, to see your father.
 
Have you got money or a credit card, know a place to stay
once you get there?”

“Yes, I have a bank account over
there, and we have a flat in Knightsbridge.
 
But I still don’t like the idea of running away, of not
defending myself.”

“You’ll get plenty of time to do
that later, if need be.
 
For now,
you can start writing down all the names, dates, places you have been for the
past two months or so.
 
Any tickets,
credit card receipts, that sort of thing, to account for your whereabouts.
 
And do you have your ticket stub for
when you came here to New York?”

“Sure I do, it’s a round-trip
ticket.”
 
He went into his bedroom
and fished it out of a drawer, while Zaira went through her pile of old
newspapers under the coffee table.

Brad showed her the ticket, and
she smiled.
 
“That’s it.
 
I’ve got them now, whoever they are.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Just trust me.”

Brad pulled her to him, and kissed
her with an ardor she had never experienced before.
 

She asked shakily, “What was that
for?”

“Because I love you, Zaira and I
can’t believe your attitude to all this.
 
Never once have you even suspected me, asked me to deny it.
 
After all, you hardly know me.
  
It could all be true.”
 

Brad watched her face for any
flicker of doubt, but Zaira gazed straight into his eyes and said, “I know you
well enough to be certain it's all a pack of lies.
 
You would never exploit others like that, and I'm certain
that you have never got involved in anything illegal in your life.
  

"No, someone envious of all
you have, of the wonderfully moral and caring man you are, is trying to destroy
your career and happiness.
 
We
can’t allow that to happen.
 
But
prison can be a rough place, even for only a short time. I would die if
anything happened to you,” Zaira declared, then added silently to herself,
because
of me.

“What’s the plan then, chief?”
Brad asked quietly.

“Start packing, just one bag of
essentials.
 
You can always buy
more stuff when you get to London.
 
I’ll throw together a few things for an overnight stay, and Matt is
coming to fetch us in the car.”

“All right, I’ll go along with it
all,” Brad said, stooping to kiss her.
 
“Whatever plan you've got up your sleeve, it has to be better than going
to prison.”

Zaira hastily stuffed a few pairs
of trousers, and some skirts and blouses into a bag, along with a couple of
sundresses.
 
She pulled a couple of
items off the bathroom shelves, and her toothbrush, then went into the study
for her laptop computer.
 
She
zipped up the bag, then fetched another holdall out of the closet, and stuffed
in all her newspapers, and then took the bag to the kitchen.
 
She got out a loaf of bread, cheese,
butter, some hard-boiled eggs, and a few bottles of mineral water.
 
There was a cake, some apples, and a
few bags of nuts as well, so she crammed it all in, and then made a flask of
coffee.

She cleaned out the refrigerator
of anything that would spoil while she was away, and then they were both ready.

A tap at the door caused them to
scurry around hiding their bags, but Zaira relaxed when she looked through the
peephole and saw Matt standing outside alone.

“Right, I’m ready.
 
The car is downstairs, and I got out
some cash from the bank, a few thousand, just in case.”

“Bless you Matt, I’ll pay you back
as soon as I can.”

“Just write the book for me when
this is all finished,” he teased, pecking her on the cheek.

“Let’s go, then, but
separately.
 
Brad, you go down with
Matt. I'll take the stairs and meet you in a few minutes around the corner.”

Zaira took one last look around
the apartment after they had gone, and gathered up her lecture notes and a big
brown envelope.
 
She scribbled an
address on the front and stuck a few stamps on it firmly, then raced out of her
apartment and locked the door.
 

She heard the elevator coming up,
and dashed for cover in the stairwell when she saw two uniformed police
officers get off and head towards her door.

Zaira fled down the stairs and
around the corner as fast as her trembling legs would carry her.

“Drive, Matt, drive!” Zaira
shouted, as she flung her bag in the front and leapt in.

Matt took off uptown, and then
said, “I take it you want to go to Kennedy?”

“No, Matt, I’m sorry.
 
Too dangerous.
 
No, we're going to Toronto.”

“What!”
 
both men gasped simultaneously.

“Sorry, but I knew they would
probably be coming after Brad soon, and we’ve just missed the police now.
 
They will be looking to make sure he
doesn’t leave the country, especially if they know he has a home in London.
 
So it isn’t safe to try to get to
London from Kennedy.
 

“We'll take it in turns driving to
Toronto.
 
If we make good time,
we’ll get there late tonight, and there should be an early morning flight Brad
can get on.
 
The only problem is
crossing the Canadian border, but they might not have any reason to suspect
we've flown the coop.
 
We'll just
have to act naturally when we get there, and once we are over the border, there
is little the police can do.”

“All right, I can see I haven’t
got much choice,” Brad agreed, “but I don’t want you and Matt at risk.
 
You should stay here, let me go on by
myself.
 
I'll pay you back for the
car.”

“Don’t be silly, Brad.
 
Zaira wants to go with you, and so do
I,” Matt declared stoutly.
 
“You
stand a better chance if you're with a few more people, than on you own.
 
They might know about you being with
Zaira, so it will look better if there are three of us.
 
They probably won’t bother to check up
on us, but if they do, we mustn’t say we’ve come from New York.
 
Tell them Albany instead if they ask.”

“I’m very grateful for all your
help,” Brad said quietly, before slumping back into the back seat to look out
of the window quietly.

Zaira glanced at him briefly, and
saw he was barely containing his upset.
 
She squeezed his knee and reassured him, “It will work out, I
promise.
 
You’ll look back on this
all one day, and it won’t be so painful.
 
You can set about trying to clear yourself in London, with those names,
dates and places, and as we agreed, you can continue with the costumes, props
and so on for “The Dark Lady.”

Brad nodded, and Zaira began to
read the map and plot out a route up to the border crossing at Niagara
Falls.
 

Matt drove as fast as he dared,
and every two hours they changed drivers.
 
Zaira took the next turn, for she saw Brad was in no state to
concentrate, but after her turn, he insisted he wanted to do his share.