Quite suddenly she saw everything with such vivid clarity she almost jumped off the sofa in her excitement.
She held herself in check, but she was unable to disguise the jubilant smile spreading across her face. ‘Norman, I have it! The only solution, and to every one of Terry’s problems.’ She sat up, as straight as an arrow, her hands tightly clenched in her lap and her smile turned into one of immense confidence.
Norman gave her a long and questioning look. ‘All of them?’ he asked, his doubtfulness apparent.
Katharine’s radiant smile widened. ‘Yes. Yes, I know how to turn Terry’s life around, and almost immediately.’
‘If you do, it’s nothing short of a bloody miracle, that’s all I can say,’ Norman said grudgingly, still doubting. ‘Let’s have it then.’
‘Do you remember my talking to Terry a few weeks ago? About his playing the role of Edgar Linton in Victor Mason’s remake of Wuthering Heights?’
Norman, who was giving her his total concentration, inclined his head without comment, uncertain of what was on her mind.
Katharine continued spiritedly, ‘As you know, Terry turned it down. At the time I thought he was being foolish. Now I realize just how foolish. Terry has an out-of-the-play clause in his contract, so he could leave Trojan to do the film without any difficulty. I know, too, that Victor would pay him well, because he really and truly wants Terry in the picture, is ever so anxious to get him. Perhaps Victor would pay as much as seventy thousand pounds, maybe even more—’
‘Christ!’ Norman cut in excitedly, ‘as much as that!’ He was overwhelmed at the thought and quickly fit a cigarette. A surge of hope shot through him, and he picked up his gin and tonic and took a long swallow, his eyes glued on Katharine. ‘Go on,’ he said, ‘I’m all ears.’
‘So, Norman, don’t you see, if Terry made the film he would be able to solve his terrible financial problems practically immediately, and for only a few months’ work. He’d even have some money to spare. Now, listen, Norman, there’s more to it… the film’s going to be made mostly in Yorkshire, which means Terry would be out of London for a number of weeks. Far away from Alexa and her cronies, and in turn, that might help to solve his drinking pr—’
‘You don’t know Alexa, ducks,’ he exclaimed with a hollow laugh. ‘She’d be tearing after him with the speed of a fox fleeing the bloody hounds.’
‘I’m sure there are ways to cope with her, Norman. For instance, I could talk to Victor, say she was a troublemaker, and get him to ban her from location. He listens to me.’
‘That’d be a bit difficult, love.’ Norman gave her a small wry smile. ‘It’s still a free country here, you know. This ain’t the USSR. You can’t stop somebody going to Yorkshire, even if you can keep them off a set. Besides, that one’s as tough as Old Nick, and she has a skin like an alligator. She’d be hard to control; you mark my words, Katharine, I know what I’m talking about. She’s led Terry a merry dance ever since he’s known her, the little bitch. Alexa does what she wants, when and how she wants, and nobody stops her.’
‘Don’t be so sure of that, Norman. I think she’s the least of our problems actually. It seems to me money is the most pressing…’ Katharine’s sentence dangled in mid-air. She stared hard at the dresser as another idea streaked through her active brain. ‘Norman…’ she began, ‘what if Terry was… was under someone else’s influence, you know, someone he really respected…’
‘Like who?’
‘Hilary.’
Norman shot bolt upright on the sofa and gawked at her in stupefaction, ‘Hilary! Stone the crows, Katharine, you’re out of your tiny mind. She’s married to Mark Pierce now.’
‘I’m well aware of that,’ Katharine responded in a cool voice, which sounded slightly superior. ‘But Victor is hoping to sign Mark to direct the picture. Hilary’s bound to go on location with him, and if she does, she can easily keep an eye on Terry. I’ve always thought Hilary was a stable, down-to-earth girl.’ She gave Norman a knowing smile, and then, stabbing in the dark, she fibbed, ‘You see, Norman dear, I happen to know that Hilary is still very fond of Terry, and vice versa, so don’t deny it.’
Where the hell does she get her information? Norman asked himself, baffled.
‘Well, it’s true, isn’t it?’ Katharine persisted.
‘In certain ways, yes,’ Norman admitted a trifle reluctantly. ‘But only on a fraternal basis,’ he hastened to add. ‘Still, Hilary might not go on location with Mark. She doesn’t always.’
‘There’s a way around that,’ Katharine remarked, again with such self-confidence Norman had no alternative but to listen and give her the benefit of any doubts.
‘Victor is looking for a really talented costume designer, and Hilary’s as good as any in London. If I recommend her, I know he’ll sign her for the picture too,’ Katharine finished on a triumphant note, inwardly congratulating herself. She knew this to be inspired, and she wished she’d thought of it before. She couldn’t wait to suggest it to Victor.
Norman was not only filled with astonishment but a considerable amount of admiration as well. This girl really was staggering. ‘Blimey, Katharine, you’ve certainly thought of everything.’ He grinned at her, feeling as if an enormous weight had been lifted, and then his face fell. ‘But Hilary’s away. I’m not sure when she’s coming back to town. You see, I tried… tried reaching her today.’
‘I understand, Norman. To help with Terry. Of course. But surely we can easily find out when she’s returning, can’t we?’
‘I’ll try. And Terry does listen to her,’ he found himself confiding. ‘Takes notice of her, always has. And, as I said, they have a good relationship these days, the sort of brother-and-sister type. And Mark doesn’t seem to object to their friendship. It’s platonic now, of course,’ he felt bound to reiterate.
‘I have Hilary’s number. I can call the house, if you like,’ Katharine suggested. ‘Personally, I think she’d jump at the idea of designing the costumes for Wuthering Heights. After all, it’s going to be a major film, and the credits would be marvellous for her. Not only that, she’d be working with her husband. She likes to collaborate with him, I know. She’d also be working with Terry.’ Katharine gave Norman a coy glance from underneath her dark sweeping lashes and smiled wickedly. ‘Her favourite actor, no doubt.’
Norman had to laugh. He rubbed his hand over his chin, thinking hard, and then he laughed more heartily than before, immensely tickled at the mere thought of thwarting Alexa Garrett, of extracting Terry from her clutches. ‘This here combination of yours is highly complex,’ he ventured. ‘Bloody dicey, in fact. But it just might work. Christ, it just might! If we’re lucky,’ he added as an afterthought.
Katharine sat back, inwardly hugging herself with delight, a smile ringing her mouth. ‘So you’ll help me to talk Terry into doing the picture?’
‘You’re on, duckie,’ Norman exclaimed, coming to a decision.
Stretching out her hand, she said, ‘Then let’s shake on it, Norman.’ They clasped hands tightly, both grinning broadly, happy to be conspirators, albeit loving and well-intentioned ones determined to save Terrence Ogden from Alexa Garrett and also from himself. Katharine went on, ‘I think we should have another drink. To… seal the deal?’
‘Good idea, love. Make mine a light one though. I’ve got to be off in a tick. Penny’s waiting for me at John’s flat.’
Katharine picked up their glasses and rose. Halfway to the door she paused and spun around. ‘That reminds me, there’s another thing I can help you with. I think. I’d like you to stay a few minutes when Kim arrives. It just occurred to me, he might be able to help you sort out the damage at John’s place. Suggest how you can get the furniture, carpet and curtains fixed, and also tell us where to find replacements for the broken items. Without the whole thing costing the earth. He knows a lot about antiques and art treasures, Norman.’
‘Okay,’ was Norman’s laconic response. ‘But wait a tick! How are you going to ex
plain the damage in the first place?’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ Katharine said, airily dismissive. ‘We’ll tell him Terry had a party, and that two of the more boisterous guests got into a fight. Kim doesn’t have to know the gory details. And actually, he’s not likely to ask.’
‘Right you are,’ Norman said. He leaned back, and he relaxed for the first time that day. And he prayed that Katharine’s scheme would work. There were too many ifs involved to permit Norman absolute peace of mind. On the other hand, her suggestions did have a degree of plausibility, and she sounded so confident and so sure of herself, perhaps she would be able to pull them off successfully. Apart from that, he didn’t have any better or brighter ideas himself, so they might as well put hers into operation. What did they have to lose? Nothing, he decided. Then Norman superstitiously crossed his fingers, closed his eyes and said three sincere Hail Marys under his breath.
Chapter Eighteen
Kim Cunningham, who had a chicken leg halfway to his mouth, put it down, staring at Katharine. ‘What’s so funny?’ he asked, wiping his fingers on a napkin. He picked up his glass of Montrachet and took a sip.
Katharine giggled again, unable to suppress her amusement, her expression merry, her demeanour lighthearted. ‘I was just thinking of your face when you walked in and saw Norman Rook sitting here. You looked as if you’d caught me with my hand in the cookie jar.’
‘What do you mean?’ Kim’s grey eyes flickered with perplexity and a frown creased his brow.
‘As if I was doing something I shouldn’t. Two-timing you perhaps.’ This thought caused her more amusement; her laughter echoed in the stillness of the room and her eyes danced. Katharine’s gaiety was not assumed. It had been engendered by a number of things, chiefly her relief that Terry’s injury was not serious and her gratification that she and Norman had everything under control. Norman was her ally now, would help her to put her plans into effect, and ultimately she would be enabled to keep her commitment to Victor. Hilary was the key, of course.
Conscious of Kim’s eyes on her, Katharine tore her mind away from the film and her involved, schemes, and flashed him a smile. She was sitting on a pile of cushions on the floor in front of the glass coffee table, and she tucked her bare feet under her and leaned back on one elbow, emanating insouciance. Then she glanced at Kim, who was seated opposite on the sofa, and reaffirmed with another laugh, ‘Don’t worry, Norman’s no competition for you.’
‘I didn’t think he was,’ Kim responded in his usual good-natured way, laughing with her, fully aware that she was teasing him. ‘He’s hardly Terrence Ogden, my sweet. Actually, I was surprised, that’s all. I just wondered if we’d ever be alone.’
‘Norman’s far too polite to overstay his welcome,’ Katharine murmured and picked up her glass of wine. ‘He was fretting so much, earlier at the theatre, about the damage those idiots did to John’s flat, I couldn’t help taking pity on him. I just had to invite him over to meet you, Kim. I was certain you’d be able to give him a few tips. Thanks for being so helpful.’
‘Oh, it was no trouble,’ Kim answered genially. ‘I told him to give me a buzz tomorrow, and I’ll pass on the names of some dealers in Chinese antiques where I hope Terry will be able to replace those porcelain lamps and some of the other items. The jade pieces are going to be expensive though, I can tell you that right now.’
Katharine nodded. ‘I guessed they would be. Still, Terry does feel he has to make everything right at the flat.’
‘Yes. Yes, I understand,’ Kim remarked. He picked up the chicken leg, bit into it and munched. Between bites, he asked her, ‘Don’t you like the things I brought for our midnight feast? You’re not eating.’
‘Of course I do! I’ve had some chicken, and half a scotch egg. I always have problems eating after the show, you should know that by now. It takes me ages to wind down, and especially tonight.’ She lifted her wine glass again. ‘Terry being out with a sore throat made it doubly tough for me this evening, Kim. Peter Mallory is a bit wooden as an actor. In fact, I more or less had to carry the play.’
‘Yes, so Norman told me, when you were in the bedroom changing. He also mentioned how marvellous your performance was.’ Kim’s admiring eyes swept over her. ‘I must admit, you do look delectable, my pet.’
‘Thank you, kind sir,’ she smiled prettily.
Earlier, after she had introduced Kim and Norman, Katharine had excused herself and left them to talk, hurrying into the bedroom, where she had quickly changed out of her black cashmere sweater and red skirt. She had chosen a long house robe, cut something in the style of the Chinese cheongsam, except that it was much looser and flowing, with long sleeves, wide at the cuffs. Made of brocade, in a clear turquoise embroidered with tiny gold leaves, the shade perfectly matched the colour of her eyes, seemed to emphasize their depth and brilliance and intensity.
Kim thought, as he gazed at her lovingly, that he had never seen her looking more beautiful than she did at this moment. Her exquisite face, with its sculptured features, had a vulnerability, the texture almost translucent, like the most fragile of transparent bone china, and there was a delicate sheen to her skin. Her chestnut hair was hanging loosely around her face in waves and curls and there were tendrils at the temples. Katharine had complained several times of feeling tired, and perhaps she did, but as he carefully scrutinized her Kim could see no trace of weariness in that remarkable face, the most perfect face he had ever beheld.
Kim pulled his eyes away, aware that he was staring at her rudely, and made a show of finishing the chicken leg, although he no longer felt hungry. He drank his wine, poured another glass, and then lit a cigarette, leaning back on the sofa. He had been surprised to see Norman, and even a bit put out at first, miffed really, believing Katharine had invited him to join them for supper. She had quickly made it clear this was not the case and Kim had been able to relax, realizing they would eventually be by themselves. Now he sighed. It seemed to him that they had not had much time alone together lately, and he was not only dismayed about this situation but unusually irritated. There were so many things he wanted to talk to her about… most especially their feelings for each other and the future. He also supposed he ought to discuss her attitude to her career and ask her about her family, certain points Francesca had made to him earlier that evening, albeit in a veiled way, but nonetheless he had received the message loud and clear. Francesca had not wanted to admit it, but he was absolutely convinced their father had been asking probing questions. Somehow I never get the opportunity to talk to Katharine seriously, he said to himself. Perhaps tonight he would.
Katharine broke the silence and his train of thought. ‘If you don’t want anything else to eat, I think I’ll take these dishes away, Kim darling.’ She sat up abruptly as she spoke, and made a move to rise.
‘No. No, I’ll do it,’ Kim cried, stubbing out his cigarette and leaping to his feet. ‘You stay here and take it easy. It won’t take me a minute; I’m a dab hand at this. Francesca’s expert drilling over the years.’ Before she could protest he had gently pushed her against the mound of pillows and was collecting some of the plates of food.
Katharine did as he said, lying back and closing her eyes, endeavouring to relax. But she was finding it difficult to do so, as she had since leaving the theatre. Her brain was far too busy. Deep down in her heart of hearts, she was truly fond of Kim, and cared for him more than she had ever cared for any other man, but at this precise moment she wished he would leave. She knew there was little chance of his doing so, since he seemed intent on dragging out the evening into the early hours. A few seconds before, when she had glanced at the clock on the mantelshelf, she had been startled to see it was turned one-thirty. Oh hell, she thought dismally, he’ll stay for another hour at least, if I know him. She wondered how to get rid of Kim, with tact, and gave up. Whatever she said, he would hang on until the bitter end, as he always did, until she bustled him out firmly, claiming total exhaustion.
&n
bsp; Katharine had not had to feign tiredness tonight. She really did feel weary; her back and legs ached, and there was an acute tightness across her shoulders which reached up into the back of her neck. But her mind was alert, as it sifted through the events of the past twelve hours. What an extraordinary day it had been, starting with her curious encounter with Estelle Morgan and finishing with Norman and the problems with Terry. Oh how she wanted to be alone, to concentrate her energies on her next moves, all of which she knew must be foolproof and properly implemented if they were to succeed. Her priority was talking to Victor. In the bedroom, after she had changed into her robe, she had tried to reach him at Claridge’s. There had been no reply from his suite. She had left another message, saying she would ’phone the following morning, realizing it would be extremely awkward speaking in front of Kim, should Victor return her call that night. What she had to convey was confidential. She smiled to herself. Victor was going to be delighted with her. Norman had voiced the opinion that her schemes were too complex and, therefore, dicey. She did not agree.
‘There! I’m all finished,’ Kim exclaimed, bounding back into the living room for the third time. ‘I put the food in the fridge, and stacked the dirty plates in the sink.’
Katharine opened her eyes languorously. ‘Thanks, Kim. That was so sweet of you.’
‘Now, darling, how about a cup of coffee?’
‘No. No thanks. Really.’
‘Then I won’t have any either. We’ll just finish the wine and relax. Shall I put a record on?’ he continued, full of joie de vivre. He headed in the direction of the small built-in cupboard next to the fireplace which housed the record player. ‘I wouldn’t mind a bit of romantic music—’
‘Please, Kim, I’m awfully tired,’ Katharine exclaimed. ‘I can do without music, if you don’t mind.’
‘Oh, sorry,’ he apologized. ‘Well then, let’s sit and talk for a while. It’s ages since I’ve had you to myself.’
Voice of the Heart Page 27
