The Modeliser (35 page)

“Busy night was it?” Helena asked arching a perfectly shaped
eyebrow. Talia groaned.

“Don’t..”

“Spill it,” Helena said firmly. “You leave me a message about
selling your script and when I call you back your phone is off and you’ve
disappeared off the reservation. Who were you with last night?” Talia took a
deep breath and finally met Helena’s eyes.

“I was so pleased about the script and signing with an agent
in LA…” Talia trailed off.
      

“And that is AMAZING,” Helena said leaning forward to hug her
friend. “But I’m not going to be diverted,” she finished as she sat back in her
chair and speared Talia with a direct gaze.

“Max Maguire.” Talia watched as Helena’s mouth formed a round
O.

“Oh dear god,” Her friend finally said. “I go to Paris and
the world gets turned upside down. There I was worried that Alex was going to
try something with you but you end up with Max Maguire.” Talia ducked her head
down at the mention of Alex. God, if only Helena knew. “That man is a total
reprobate.” Helena continued. “The stories about him…”

“I know, I know,” Talia sighed. In the cold light of day, her
night with Max Maguire didn’t seem like a particularly good idea but she
couldn’t bring herself to completely regret it. “I guess I wanted to try being
someone else.” She continued, “Or just do something out of character, you know.
Life isn’t a dress rehearsal and I’ve been buried in books, in work, I never just
get out there and live.” Talia blurted out watching as a look passed over
Helena’s face.

“I guess you’re right.” Helena finally said and then a smile
spread across her face. “So are the rumours true? Should Max be at the top of
the Hollywood H list?” Talia looked baffled at her friend.

“The H List?”

“Before you go to LA you’ll have to do some homework –
The Hung list.” Helena laughed as Talia choked on her coffee.

“I had no complaints,” she finally said. “How about you? How
was Paris? And Gabe?” She asked as she broke apart a muffin and popped a piece
in her mouth.

Helena took a deep breath. How to explain Paris? She was
still too raw and so she settled for the simplest explanation.

“Paris was an eye opener,” she replied. “And Gabe…” The
grimace on Helena’s face told the story and Talia gave her friend a sympathetic
look, knowing that in her own time Helena would tell the full story.

“What I saw of the issue online looked amazing, you look
gorgeous. I couldn’t buy an actual issue because they’ve sold out in London.”

Helena smiled with pride. Not since the Italian Vogue Black
issue, had a magazine become so sought after, so much like gold dust with
copies popping up on eBay for 100 times the cover price and subscribers
reporting their issues stolen.

“It’s doing great,” Helena agreed.

“It’s doing amazing and you’ve got editor…” Talia told her
friend her pride showing.

“I quit,” Helena stated baldly watching the confusion spread
over Talia’s face.

“You what?”

“I quit my job at Époque.”

“Why? What happened?” Helena could see the concern on her
friend’s face and she laid a hand over Talia’s to allay her fears.

“I just realised that I’ve been trying to be someone else for
so long, but now I know what I really want to do.”

“What?” Talia asked doubtfully her voice still tinged with
concern. Helena held a laugh in check.

“I’ve decided to join a convent.” Talia’s expression was
priceless.

“What!”

Helena
could not keep her face straight and began to laugh.

“Ok so not a convent. I’ve decided to become a photographer.”
She finished quietly, nervously as she waited for Talia’s reaction.

“Is this something to do with Gabe?”

“Not Gabe, he helped me see that I’ve been trying to impress
Sula, maybe if I made editor she might be proud of me. But the truth is I always
loved the photographs and that side of things more, you know that Tal.”

Talia rose and went round the table to envelope her friend in
a hug, remembering the pictures in Helena’s bedroom and the freelance
photography work and all the times that Helena had eagerly volunteered to be
the designated photographer on holidays, at university events. And those
pictures had always been incredible, raw, whimsical and even haunting. The
clues, Talia realised, had always been there.

“I think you’ll be amazing.” She said simply and felt the
tension drain from Helena’s shoulders.

Slowly
Talia let Helena go – grabbing the pot of coffee to top up their mugs.

“So enough about me,” Helena said. “How’s Alex been?”

Talia held herself in check, not wanting to explain to Helena
that she and Alex hadn’t seen much of each other, that they’d been avoiding
spending too much time in each other’s company. They had had lunch together
once and Alex had seemed genuinely pleased to hear about her script’s success,
brushing off her thanks.

“Your script sold itself,” he’d said dismissively, refusing
to accept Talia’s thanks.

“Alex is Alex, she finally said. Watching as Helena rolled
her eyes, she knew her big brother well. “I haven’t seen much of him,” Talia
admitted. “Rehearsals have been round the clock. I’ve sat in a couple of times,
it’s a great role, he’ll be great.”

 
“You’re coming
to the press night tonight?”

“Of course,” Talia said a stiff smile on her face.

She’d
been looking forward to seeing Alex on stage but after their strained
conversations, now she wondered if their friendship had been irreparably
damaged. She wondered too if that woman from his hotel room would be in the
audience. Would The Modeliser live up to his reputation and have a model
waiting in the wings for him? Talia brushed the thought away as she gave Helena
another smile. How Alex lived his life was none of her business.

It
was the hottest ticket in town.

From the moment Talia and Helena had stepped out of their cab
and entered the Regent Court Theatre, the immense anticipation was palpable.
The blogosphere had gone mad, the twitterers, always over-excitable, had been
in a tizzy sending the name Alex Golden to the top of the trending lists.
Tickets for the run, which was already totally sold out were changing hands for
crazy, outlandish sums. For the mere mortals though, it would still be a week
before they got to pass judgement and find out if London’s returning bad boy
still had what it took. But tonight’s preview was all about the stars and they
had turned out in force. Following in Helena’s wake, Talia moved through the
crowd marvelling at the sight of theatre legends and household names, Dames and
directors, actors and playwrights. In the second floor private bar, Talia
openly gaped as she glimpsed some of the familiar faces – Jude, Hugh,
Colin. The play hadn’t even opened and yet there were already whisperings of
Olivier nominations. Talia stood to a corner watching as Helena was enveloped
in a hug by Eleanor Samson legend of the theatre and an Oscar winner.

“Helena darling, magnificent cover – you and Sula
looked wonderful.” Talia sipped from her glass glancing around the room. She
didn’t think she would ever get tired of staring at famous people. Talia
groaned inwardly as she spotted a familiar face ploughing through the crowd
towards her. It was Sara, Rough Draft junior executive and low-level bitch.

“Talia, wow you look great,” Sara said. Talia held in check
the desire to roll her eyes. “So I heard about your script. Well done.” Bingo,
Talia thought, this explained Sara’s attitude shift. Suddenly I’m somebody
worth knowing!

“Thanks,” she replied, her smile polite but detached. She
could play this game too.

“Well look, I always thought we had really similar ideas, so
if you’re up for any kind of collaboration...” Sara smiled; it almost seemed
genuine. Talia fought the desire to simply turn and walk away. Instead she gave
a smile as false and as slippery as the ones that Sara had given her.

“Well I’ll soon be moving on – so maybe Alex will have
a vacancy for a script reader,” Talia said deadpan, watching a blaze of colour
stain Sara’s cheeks. Fuck diplomacy. Some bridges were worth burning. “Send me
your CV. We’ll keep it on file.” Talia smiled again and then strode away
plucking another glass of champagne from a passing tray.
 
She felt Helena at her side.

“You OK?” Talia nodded and froze as she caught sight of the
tall girl, the one she’d seen leaving Alex’s hotel room.

“Who’s that?” She asked Helena nodding discreetly in the direction
of the tall blonde who was weaving through the throng of guests, like a pro.
Talia watched her hug Eleanor Samson.

“Oh, that’s Hannah Samson, Eleanor’s granddaughter,” Helena
replied. Talia could not miss the fondness in Helena’s voice. She watched as
Helena gave a small wave at the girl, who responded with a blown kiss across
the room.

“You know her?” Talia asked.

“Of course.” Helena replied. “Don’t you recognise her?”
Talia’s brow furrowed.

“No, should I?”

“She played Alex’s little sister in Hiding Places,” Helena
replied. Talia squinted at the girl, winding back the years.

“Christ she’s grown up.”

“Happens to us all,” Helena replied drolly.

“She and Alex they aren’t…” Talia trailed off.

“God no. She’s a lesbian for one thing.”

“Oh.” Talia said in surprise. She felt a flutter as it
suddenly occurred to her that she might have totally misinterpreted things. She
began to move forward and then turned back to Helena, “I need to pop to the
loo. I’ll see you in the theatre.”

Talia
moved through the throng of people. She walked down a cool corridor, passing
the last minute queue for the women’s toilets. She headed down the stairs
towards a side exit, until she emerged into the cool night air. Talia let out a
deep breath and wondered at the butterflies that were dancing around her
stomach. The fact that Alex wasn’t sleeping with Hannah Samson meant nothing
and yet she could not help the wave of hope and longing. She turned to re-enter
the theatre when she spotted an orange dot in the dark night and then a form in
shadow, smoking a cigarette. It was Alex.

She should return to the theatre, but somehow she found she
could not make herself go back in. Instead she was moving further into the dark
alleyway, past a sign that warned that the area was for Actors and Authorised
Staff only. She watched his eyes widen as he noticed her approach and he
flicked the cigarette butt, crushing it underfoot. He was already made up and
in character. His hair was slicked back like a sleazy Gordon Gekko, the suit
was Saville Row, the tie Hermes, the shoes Patrick Cox and on his wrist a Rolex
watch. He looked every inch the ruthless shark-like banker that he was playing.

“What are you doing out here?” She finally asked. Her voice
was hoarse.

He
shrugged and Talia saw the fear in his eyes. Slowly she leaned forward and
standing on tiptoe, she kissed him gently on the mouth.

“You have to work through the fear,” she said.

The words he had once said to her. He nodded and then for a
moment his arms closed around her, a steel band of support and yet she knew too
that he was drawing strength from her. He let her go and with a nod he turned
and walked back into the theatre. For a long moment Talia continued to stand
there. From inside, the sound of the warning bell rang out and she was roused
from her thoughts. She felt an unexpected feeling of lightness. This thing
between her and Alex, maybe it was real, at the very least, she was ready to
see where it would take them. By the time she took her seat next to Helena, she
was smiling.

As
the final curtain fell there was a stunned silence, total silence and then the
applause started. Deafening, thunderous applause that ran and ran and ran. A
fifteen-minute standing ovation. As Alex took his bows and his many encores
they kept on clapping, for Alex had proved beyond any doubt that he still had
what it took. Helena was in tears, her pride brimming over and Talia felt some
emotional valve inside her loosen, even as she fought to remind herself that
she had no real right to feel any ownership in Alex’s achievements.

The
celebratory post first night drinks had been organised for Caligula, a nearby
restaurant and Talia quickly lost Helena in the throng of people who’d
congregated by the door in the hope of being able to congratulate Alex personally
when he finally arrived. Outside she could see that every few minutes a
lightning storm of camera flashes cut through the dark night as the paps got
their shots of the arriving celebrities. Talia had popped a canapé in her mouth
when she spotted Tamara coming towards her. For the first time in months, she
realised that she felt no particular dread about seeing Tamara and somehow, the
anger had dissipated. She was long past caring and of course Tamara had got her
comeuppance. Tamara of course looked stunning – a green dress that
displayed her body to perfection.