Voice of the Heart (32 page)

Terry laughed even more hysterically than before, and cried out dramatically, ‘Ah, my sweet Kate, you’re so young, so idealistic, so filled with noble thoughts…’ He broke off and reached for the glass of water. ‘“Tempt not a desperate man.”
Romeo and Juliet
. Act… I forget which act, but never mind, my sweet, sweet Kate.’ He flung out his arm, making a grand gesture, and the water splashed out of the glass on to the sheet. He looked down at the wet patch and shook his head, smiling to himself. ‘Tears. Ah, yes, tears.’ He lay supine on the pillows and murmured, ‘“To weep is to make less the depth of grief.”
Henry VI
. The Bard always got to the heart of the matter, did he not, my sweet Kate.’ He closed his eyes wearily. The eyelids fluttered and then were still.

Katharine’s troubled face now met Norman’s, and he shrugged, helpless and resigned.

Penny said, ‘I think Terry’s falling asleep. Perhaps we should let him rest for a while.’

‘Oh no, I’m not, Penelope. The wise and wonderful Penn—ell—ohpee,’ Terry cried, opening one bloodshot blue eye and leering wickedly at them.

Katharine turned to Norman and said carefully, ‘I agree with Penny. Terry’ll feel better in about half an hour, then you can get him ready.’ Aware that Norman was about to protest, she signalled him to be silent with her expressive eyes, and rushed on, ‘Maybe you should run a bath in the meantime.’ Her cool blue glance rested on Terry and she remarked casually, ‘When you’re ready, Norman and I will take you to the theatre. Come on Norman, Penny.’ She swung around and walked across the room, her steps purposeful.

Thanks, Puss. I knew I could rely on your understanding,’
Terry muttered, raising himself on his right arm. Instantly he collapsed on the mound of pillows, looking more exhausted than ever.

Norman threw Katharine a questioning look once they were outside, and Penny began crossly, ‘What kind of idea is—’

‘Hush,’ Katharine whispered, and pulled Penny after her into the drawing room. Norman followed and closed the door firmly behind him. He leaned against it and said, ‘If you’ve come up with a plan, it’d better be a flaming good one, ducks.’

Katharine sat down on an easy chair, and smiled faintly. ‘It’s not a plan exactly, only a little common sense. Look, Norman, as long as we argue with Terry about going on tonight, he’ll continue to fight us until we’re blue in the face. So… I think we ought to go through the motions of getting him bathed and dressed. Didn’t you see how docile he became when I suggested that you get him ready?’

They nodded in unison, and Katharine proceeded, ‘It’s pretty apparent to me that Terry is wiped out physically, and he’s still a bit drunk, you know. That’s why I don’t think he’ll have any juice left in him by the time you’ve got him shaved, bathed and in his clothes. He’s going to be awfully drowsy after a bath, particularly if you make it a hot one. I have a feeling he’ll simply fall apart, and then we can get him to bed without any arguments, or a struggle.’

Norman smiled for the first time that day. ‘Katharine, you’re a little genius. Of course it’s the only solution. Hell, I wish we had some knockout drops as well.’

‘I have some sleeping pills on me…’ Penny began hesitantly, and stopped when she saw Norman’s glowering expression.

‘Why the bloody hell didn’t you say so before,’ Norman snapped, staring at his wife in irritation.

‘Well, actually, I haven’t had a chance, have I?’ she retorted reprovingly, with a small glare. ‘There’s no need to be so
snippy, Norman. Anyway, when you rang me up to tell me about Terry, I threw a lot of things in a shopping bag. A first-aid kit, bandages, aspirin and sleeping pills. I was reluctant to suggest giving him one of those though, because he’s been drinking.’

‘Christ, I didn’t think of that,’ Norman answered, looking shamefaced. ‘But
one
wouldn’t hurt, would it?’

‘I don’t think so.’ Penny went to her shopping bag and pulled out the bottle. She popped it in the pocket of her cardigan and said, ‘We’ll never get him to take it voluntarily, Norman. I’ll have to crush it and put it in a glass of hot milk. He won’t taste it, if I add a bit of sugar.’

‘Good idea, love.’ He gave Penny a fond look, and added, ‘And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.’ He jumped up. ‘I think I’d better go and run a bath for him. Back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.’

The moment Norman left the room, Katharine turned to Penny and said, ‘This is pretty awful, isn’t it? What’s it all about, Penny darling?’

Penny bit her lip. ‘I’ve absolutely no idea,’ she murmured.

Katharine gave her a hard stare. ‘Did Norman tell you anything?’

‘No,’ Penny responded, returning the stare with one equally as hard.

‘How did Norman find out about the stabbing?’

‘Terry had asked him to pick up a suit from his tailor’s and deliver it here. Norman brought it over this afternoon. He found Terry lying on the bed in a pool of blood, drunk as a skunk. He ’phoned me and told me to get over here as fast as I could, and then I believe he tried to question Terry. But he didn’t find out anything. Terry was much worse earlier, unintelligible, from what Norman told me. That’s about it…’

‘It’s a good thing Norman had reason to come over here today,’ Katharine said with a small shiver, imagining the
consequences if Norman had not arrived on the scene at the right time. She looked down at her hands, and when she lifted her head her eyes held a quizzical look. ‘I asked Norman if he thought Alexa Garrett had done it, and he said no. But he didn’t really convince me. I think Norman suspects her, don’t you?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Penny responded uncertainly. ‘But I suspect her. I think she’s a bit of a Tartar, that one. I wouldn’t put anything past
her
. Terry’s had nothing but bad luck since she’s been around. Jinxed him, that she has. I never liked her, stuck-up little piece of nothing. She’s led Terry into bad ways, Katharine. Very bad ways indeed, I don’t mind telling you. But then, Terry never did have much taste in women. Always going for the dolly birds. Except for Hilary Rayne. He should have married Hilary, instead of that last wife of his—Megan. I never liked her either, another stuck-up article, if ever I saw one. Exactly like Alexa. Two peas in a pod, if you ask me, and rotten bloody peas at that.’

Katharine was taken aback at this second reference to Hilary in one day, and intrigued and inquisitive, remembering Estelle’s comments about the party. She said, ‘Yes, I agree with you, about Hilary. She’s a lovely person. But she’s married to Mark Pierce now, so she’s hardly available for Terry.’

Penny was startled. ‘Oh, I didn’t know
you
knew Hilary. Known her long, have you?’

‘Not very long, but she’s—’ Katharine cut off her sentence as Norman rushed in. He seemed elated and he grinned at them both and made Winston Churchill’s V for Victory sign with two fingers. ‘I think it’s going to work. I had to wake Terry to get him into the bathroom. Right now he’s sitting in a tub of hot water, looking as weak as a kitten and sounding very groggy. He didn’t even want me to shave him. Why don’t you go and boil the milk, Penny love, and then I’ll try to get him to drink it. After that, it’ll be never-never-land time.’

Penny hurried out, and Norman peered at his watch. ‘It’s just turning five-thirty, Katharine. Do you want to get off to the theatre?’

‘No, I’ll wait for you, Norman. Just to be sure everything is all right. We can go together,’ she said.

***

Norman stood in the wings of the St James’s Theatre, watching the last scene of the last act of
Trojan Interlude
. And silently he applauded Katharine. She was superb. She had carried the entire play with ease and brilliance and immense flair, radiating her own extraordinary magic, a magic quite unique to her. Peter Mallory, Terry’s understudy, was good, but he lacked Terry’s fire and declamatory ability, and although his performance was sound it was without inspiration.

If the audience felt a little cheated because of his lacklustre performance, they had been more than compensated by Katharine’s stunning portrayal of Helen of Troy. She had given them everything she had, with every fibre of her being, and Norman decided it was probably her most outstanding rendition to date. She had surpassed herself, had held them in the palm of her hand all night long, and now, as the play drew to its finale, they were her entranced and willing captives, breathless in their seats, hanging on every word. He suspected there wouldn’t be a dry eye in the house when the curtain fell in a few minutes.

Norman turned and meandered out of the wings, making his way slowly down the stone stairs to the dressing rooms. He had had to come to the theatre tonight, to dress Terry’s understudy, who didn’t have one of his own. In many ways he had been glad to get away from the flat. It had enabled him to clear his head. Terry had dropped off to sleep before he and Katharine left, and Penny had assured him she was capable of coping with any emergency which might arise. Norman had telephoned his wife several times during the course of the play, and to his great relief she had told him
Terry was still out like a light, and probably wouldn’t awaken until the next morning. But as a precaution, he and Penny had elected to stay the night there, just in case Terry needed anything.

And tomorrow he would have a serious talk with Master Terrence. It was long overdue. Norman now chastised himself for not having done so before. He was devoted to Terry, and protective of him, and in the six years he had been his dresser they had drawn extremely close and intimate, were like brothers. Norman, failed and frustrated actor that he was, guarded Terry’s career as he would the Holy Grail, and he was prepared to go out on a limb for him at any time, to ensure his position and standing in the English theatre. Talent such as Terry possessed was rare and precious, and it had to be cherished and nurtured. To Norman it was a national treasure that belonged to the people, to be preserved for them.

Norman hovered outside Terry’s dressing room, waiting for Katharine to come off stage. He had done a great deal of thinking in the past few hours and had at last resolved to confide in her. She was the only person he dare trust with Terry’s secrets. Norman sighed under his breath. Terry’s troubles were becoming too weighty and complex for him to carry alone, and after the nightmarish day he had spent, he knew he must unburden himself, seek objective advice. And quickly, if he was to avert further disaster. He was not sure she
could
properly advise him, but sometimes it was simply enough to voice fears. Communicating them to someone else helped to clarify them and often produced solutions which otherwise might have remained elusive. And at least Katharine might be able to make Terry see sense.

He heard her laughter as she tripped lightly down the steps, and he went along the corridor to meet her, smiling broadly. He grabbed her, somewhat roughly, but with genuine affection, and hugged her to him. ‘You were smashing, love,’ he exclaimed. ‘Staggering. You pulled out all the stops.’

‘Thanks, Norman.’ She exhaled several times. ‘I did it for Terry,’ she said softly, and with the sweetest of smiles. ‘I acted for both of us tonight. But it was rough going at times. Look at me. I’m soaked to my skin.’

‘You’d better get out of your damp costume immediately,’ Norman ordered in a fatherly manner, bundling her towards her dressing room door. ‘By the way, can I buy you a drink later, love?’

‘That’s so sweet of you, Norman, but I have a date.’

‘Just one. Ten minutes of your time. It’s important, Katharine.’

She noted the anxiety in Norman’s voice, and she thought, Oh God, Terry’s taken a turn for the worse. She said swiftly, and with a degree of nervousness, ‘Is he all right? There’s nothing wrong is there?’

‘No, he’s fast asleep. Actually, I need a bit of advice… About Ter… our boy…’ Norman’s voice traded off. He gave her a pointed look. ‘Understand what I mean?’

‘Yes, I do.’ She did not have the heart to refuse him. Also, she was worried about Terry herself, and riddled with curiosity about these recent events, and her inquisitiveness now got the better of her. She said, ‘Kim Cunningham’s bringing a picnic over to my flat later. We’re going to have a midnight supper.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘He’s very romantic. Anyway, we can have a drink there, Norman. We have plenty of time to talk before he arrives.’

Norman was hesitant, shrinking away from this suggestion. He always felt faintly ill-at-ease when he was with the nobs. Being the son of a man who had spent forty years of his life in service to one of the premier dukes of England, he had been brought up to know his place. And his place was certainly not at any social gathering, particularly one of this intimate nature. ‘Oh well, if his lordship’s coming courting, perhaps we’d better leave it.’

‘Don’t be
silly
, Norman. I want you to come. And I certainly want to help you and Terry if I can.’

‘Okay. And thanks, Katharine, you’re a real brick,’ Norman beamed. ‘I’m going to pop along and help Peter, but I won’t be long. Knock on the door when you’re ready to leave.’

‘I’ll hurry. About fifteen minutes,’ she said, disappearing into her dressing room.

‘I’d like a pink gin, please,’ Norman said, lighting a cigarette as he sat back on the white sofa in Katharine’s flat.

‘Oh dear, I don’t have any angostura bitters,’ she answered with a frown. ‘But I do have gin. Would you like a splash of tonic water with it?’

‘Thanks, love, that’ll be fine.’

Katharine smiled, returning to the kitchen. Norman glanced around with considerable interest. Very posh, he thought. And expensive. But not to my taste at all. The room was too cold, too sterile and too… hygienic. All this white. It reminded him of a hospital. The only thing missing was the smell of disinfectant and that peculiar medicinal odour which always permeated the wards. The décor was so frigid and icy it was oddly depressing, and despite the warmth emanating from the large electric fire in the fireplace, Norman felt chilled. He had trouble reconciling the room with Katharine and what he knew of her. Earlier, at the theatre, when she had invited him to her flat, he had imagined a setting quite different from this one. She was such a cheerful, open and vivacious girl, with a warm personality and a sweet disposition, and this place where she lived was somehow alien in its austerity and, yes, its lifelessness.