Taking Chances (17 page)

‘Nothing’s more important than that child, but I’m the only one who seems to think so,’ she spat. ‘Because I’m the only one who ever makes any time to take him where he’s got to be, or go see his teachers, or check out his friends. When was the last time you put yourself out to do something for your son, except take him to the airport to meet his mother?’

‘If it’s too much for you, Ellen, we can make other arrangements,’ he said darkly.

She stared at him, her face turning ashen with shock as the meaning of his words reached her. ‘Then maybe you’d like to do just that,’ she said tightly, and dropping the knife she turned to walk out.

‘Stop!’ he said, spinning her round. ‘I’m sorry, that wasn’t called for. It wasn’t what I meant.’

‘Then what did you mean?’ she challenged, her face still taut with hurt and anger.

‘I don’t know,’ he answered. ‘I guess it just came out in the heat of the moment. It’s not the way I feel. It’s not what I want to happen. But we’ve got to stop this fighting. It’s been like this for weeks now, and I love you too much to want it to go on.’

She looked away, not ready to forgive him yet, but not wanting to continue the fight either. ‘Robbie should be in bed,’ she said.

‘Do you want to take him and I’ll do what needs doing here?’

She shook her head. ‘He doesn’t want me, he wants his mother,’ she said, with an edge to her voice that she wished wasn’t there.

‘Oh God,’ Michael groaned, pulling her into his arms. ‘I see what this is all about now. He loves you too, honey. Just give him some space, OK? The excitement’ll soon wear off and then things will return to normal.’

She nodded and pulled back to wipe the tears from her eyes. ‘She’s much more beautiful than I realized,’ she said.

He smiled. ‘Have you looked in the mirror lately?’ he asked. Then, tilting her face up to his, he said, ‘You know, this would all be so much easier on you if you could see your way to making friends with her. And believe me, you’ve got nothing to be afraid of, not when I love you as much as I do.’

‘I just hope to God that doesn’t change,’ she whispered.

Chapter 8

ALL SIX OF
the McCann Paull agents were gathered around the conference table with World Wide UK’s accountants and business managers. Sandy Paull, dressed entirely in black, was in the chair. Though most of the south wall, which ran alongside the table, was taken up by windows that offered great views of the river Thames and Battersea beyond, the rest of the walls were covered in posters, photographs, captions, schedules, and a hundred other useful or commemorative items that World Wide’s transient staff had collected since the company’s inception.

The meeting presently under way was one of the regular Monday sessions that brought the two companies together either to discuss projects in progress, or to put forward new ideas and scripts that showed potential for being packaged by McCanns and produced by World Wide.

‘OK,’ she said, as Ginger Coulton, one of the World Wide accountants, finished her report, ‘to summarize: the budget reports and early returns are looking good and we’re still being judged a good risk by potential investors.’ She smiled. ‘Seems that right now everyone wants to throw money our way, so it shouldn’t be too long before we can launch our own airline.’

Everyone laughed and Sandy cocked an eyebrow, an indication the jest might not be so idle. She glanced over
at
Stacy, her assistant, who was taking down the minutes. ‘I’m going to spell this out,’ she said, ‘because I don’t think we’ve got any one document that encapsulates everything that World Wide and McCann Paull are into right now. So for those of you who know all this I’m sorry, but I think we should have something down in writing, if only for easy reference.’ She put aside the finance reports and turned to a couple of pages of handwritten notes.

It took a while to go through the many projects that were in various stages of development, and to make all the changes that had occurred during the past week, but the discussion was as lively as it was worthwhile for all the discrepancies it uncovered.

‘OK, just a couple of words on
Rachel’s Story
,’ she said, glancing at her watch and starting to wrap the meeting up. ‘Things are starting to move ahead pretty fast in LA, so I’ll be making the movie a priority from now on. Between ourselves, Michael informed me when we last spoke that he’s going to have difficulty meeting the payroll next month, so the need to get some really big interest going is becoming vital. That’s not to say he doesn’t have the backers over there, because he does, it’s just that the money is taking some time to drop, and naturally it’s affecting the cash flow. From what we’ve managed to pull together so far we can transfer three million sterling by the end of next week, which is really going to help him out, but, like I said, it’s important now that we get as much investment in as we can. So, if anyone’s got any other possible backers they can put me on to, please let me know.’ Once again she looked at her watch. ‘OK, I don’t have anything else here that needs immediate attention,’ she said, ‘and as I have a funeral to go to at one I’d like to bring us to a close. Anyone else got anything to say?’

Her eyes moved to World Wide’s business managers,
who
were discussing something quietly between themselves.

‘Marilyn, Clive?’ she prompted.

They looked up. ‘We just need to check that the three million from Deightons is going to be in on time to transfer next week,’ Marilyn told her.

Sandy felt her mouth turning dry. ‘I didn’t realize it wasn’t already here,’ she said, trying to keep the irritation from her voice. ‘When I last spoke to Rodney Parker-King he assured me there would be no problem.’

‘I don’t think there is,’ Marilyn assured her. ‘We just need to make sure the transfer is effected right away.’

‘Well, I need an answer by the end of the day,’ Sandy said. ‘Michael’s flying in tomorrow, and I want to be able to tell him that the immediate panic is over. For those of you who didn’t know, his mother’s had a fall … It’s OK, apparently nothing to get worked up about,’ she added swiftly, as all the agents appeared about to ask – everyone was extremely fond of Clodagh, with her eccentric Irish charm, and the added virtue of being something of a surrogate mother to them all.

‘I went to see her last night,’ Zelda informed them. ‘She’s just a bit shaken up. Nothing broken.’

‘Is she in hospital?’ Janey asked.

‘She’s going home this afternoon,’ Zelda answered. ‘You know Clodagh, hates all the fuss but would be furious if it didn’t happen.’

‘Will you get a chance to see Michael before you go up to Scotland?’ Sandy asked her.

‘We’ll cross paths at Heathrow for about an hour,’ Zelda chuckled. ‘Did he speak to you about Vic Warren?’

Sandy nodded. ‘I’m waiting for Vic to call me back,’ she said. ‘He’s still shooting in Paris, but he’s hoping to get over while Michael’s here.’

‘How long’s he staying?’ Craig asked.

‘Only a few days,’ Sandy answered. ‘He’ll be at his
sister’s
so he can see plenty of Clodagh and her grandchildren. If Vic can’t get over to London, then he’s thinking of going to Paris for the day before flying back to LA.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Oh God, look at the time. I haven’t even booked a cab yet. Stacy, can you …’

‘Where’s the funeral?’ Craig interrupted.

‘Mortlake,’ Sandy answered.

‘Then I’ll drive you there. I’m having lunch with Guy Foster at Teddington Studios.’

Ten minutes later they were pulling out of the underground car park and heading towards the Kings Road. Sandy was talking to Stacy on her mobile phone, while Craig tuned into the radio news.

‘I take it it’s Maurice’s funeral,’ he said, when Sandy finally clicked off.

She nodded and turned to gaze at the passing shops and pubs. ‘I’m going to miss him,’ she said. ‘More than I ever missed my own father, wherever he might be now.’

Craig glanced at her and started to slow for a red light. ‘Do you ever think about looking for him?’ he said.

Sandy’s laugh was more of a scoff. ‘What, so’s he can scrounge off me too, the way the rest of them do?’ she said, not prepared to admit, even to Craig, that her father was in prison. ‘No, I was just thinking, not having Maurice to turn to is going to be a bit like trying to swim the Channel with no backup boat. I might drown.’

Craig looked at her in surprise. ‘It’s not like you to doubt yourself,’ he commented.

Sandy laughed. ‘I doubt myself all the time,’ she told him, ‘I just try not to show it.’ She allowed a few seconds to pass, then said, ‘Promise not to tell anyone, but I’m nervous about seeing Michael tomorrow.’

Craig frowned. ‘For any reason?’ he asked. ‘I mean, you’re not normally – are you?’

‘A bit. But more today. I suppose because Maurice has gone and I’m feeling much more vulnerable without
him
than I’d ever imagined I would. You know, just in case anything goes wrong.’

Craig was incredulous. ‘What on earth can go wrong?’ he cried. ‘You said it yourself at the meeting just now, things couldn’t be going better, and since Michael’s got the best part of everything he owns invested in World Wide, including his share of McCann Paull, he’s likely to start offering you obeisance when he finds out what you managed to get from Deightons. So I can’t see what you’ve got to feel nervous about. Besides, you don’t know what Maurice might have left you in his will.’

‘Nothing,’ Sandy informed him. ‘We talked about it before he died. He gave me enough in his lifetime and I truly didn’t want to spend the next however many years fighting it out in the courts with his children. So we agreed. He gave me the apartment and my success. I did very well.’

‘Do his family know you’re going to be at the funeral?’ Craig asked.

She shook her head. ‘I’ll just do the movie-star bit, you know, low-profile background, soak up all the scorn, lower my hat brim, look tragic, then leave the way I came – alone.’

Craig was grinning, but when he looked at her he was concerned to see that she didn’t seem to be joking. For a moment her eyes met his, and there was still no smile when she looked away.

‘Are you all right?’ he said, speeding up to overtake a bus. ‘Maybe this has hit you harder than I realized.’

‘I think it has,’ she said, swallowing hard.

‘Listen, if you want me to come in with you,’ he said, ‘I can always call Guy and reschedule.’

‘No, it’s OK. I’m just feeling sorry for myself. I’ll get over it.’

They drove on in silence, passing the brewery in Chiswick where roadworks held them up for a while, then turning at the Hogarth Roundabout towards
Mortlake
. It was unlike Sandy to be depressed, or quiet, and Craig wasn’t entirely sure how to handle it.

‘When are you actually seeing Michael?’ he asked, for want of anything else to say.

Sandy felt her heart contract. ‘Tomorrow night,’ she answered. ‘We’re having dinner.’ She began to rummage in her bag and said something Craig didn’t catch.

‘Sorry?’ he said.

‘I said, it’ll be the first time I’ve been on a date since I left the escort business.’

To his dismay Craig was once again stuck for words, since he didn’t imagine for one minute that Michael was viewing tomorrow night as a date.

After a while Sandy gave a dry, empty laugh. ‘I don’t suppose you’re the person to ask if there’s something wrong with me,’ she said. ‘Anyway, there must be if nobody’s asked me out in all this time. Not that there’s been anyone I’ve particularly fancied, but well, you know …’ She glanced at him, then looked out at the barren trees and flat, colourless acres that stretched south of Chiswick. ‘It’s a horrible feeling finding out that you can’t get a date the way everyone else gets one. You know, the normal route of someone asking you out because they want to get to know you better. Or even because they want to screw you. Seems the only way I can get someone is to be paid for it. Like a whore. Well, that’s what I was, I suppose. At least sometimes. I didn’t always sleep with them.’ She took a breath. ‘Michael’s the only man I’ve slept with since coming to London who I didn’t meet through the escort business.’

‘You’re always working, that’s why you never meet anyone,’ Craig insisted.

A few minutes ticked by.

‘I’ve tried to get over him,’ Sandy said, her eyes still averted. ‘But what do you do when in your heart you just know someone is right for you? I mean, I can’t help
feeling
that way, can I? It’s not something I asked for, it just happened. And it certainly doesn’t make me happy, especially not when he’s over there in LA with another woman who he’s planning to marry in a couple of months. Things are better between us now, though. We get on well together. I think he actually likes me, which is a definite improvement on the way he felt when he fired me.’ She turned to Craig as he stopped at a pedestrian crossing. ‘What would you do if you were me?’

‘In what way?’ he asked awkwardly.

Sandy turned away and sighed. ‘Never mind,’ she said.

Neither of them spoke again until they were pulling up outside the cemetery.

‘Are you OK for getting back?’ Craig asked.

‘Stacy’s already booked me a cab,’ she answered, flicking up the sun-visor after checking her make-up. She smiled briefly. ‘Sorry if I burdened you with my problems.’

‘No burden,’ he said. ‘We’re friends. It’s just sometimes I don’t know if I’m the right one to advise you.’

‘Where Michael’s concerned I don’t think anyone can,’ she confessed. ‘I mean, it’s not something I understand myself, the way I feel about him, so how can I expect anyone else to?’

Craig looked at her and thought how young and sometimes painfully naïve she still was, despite her success. She had so many qualities, and leadership was definitely amongst them, yet where Michael was concerned she was like a whole other person.

Seeing her bite her lip and realizing it was probably nerves about going to this funeral, he reached out for her hand and gave it a squeeze. He could only admire her for the courage it was taking to go in there now, and in his heart he felt the ache of her loneliness. With Maurice
dying
and Michael about to get married, he could easily imagine how bewildered and at sea she was feeling, probably even more than she realized.