Wild Justice

by Liz Fielding

  'Idiot,' he said, again, but gently this time. And then he kissed her. 'I love you, Fizz. Marry me. Please.'

  That jolted her. 'And you have the nerve to call me an idiot? Lie down for a moment, take an aspirin.'

  'I don't need an aspirin, I need you.'

  She was almost convinced. 'Right now all I need is a shower, Luke.' She detached herself, switched on the shower, tested the temperature of the water.

  'I mean it, Fizz.' The water was warm now and she stepped beneath it. He followed her.

  'Luke!'

  'Will you listen to me now?' He had her trapped, no escape. 'I want you to marry me.'

  A smile, a real smile, began to form on her lips. She tried to stop it, but it had a life of its own. 'Will you pass me the soap?' she asked.

  'I warn you I'm not going anywhere until you say yes.'

  'Oh?' She held out her hand. 'The soap?'

  He glared at her, then reached behind him, handed it to her. She worked up a lather in her hands, handed it back to him and began to circle her hands over his chest, over his shoulders. His skin was like silk beneath her fingers. She leaned forward, circling him with her arms, brushing his chest with her breasts and suddenly it was Luke who was trapped.

  'Fizz? What are you doing? I'm trying to talk to you.'

  'Later. If you talk in the shower, you're likely to get soap in your mouth.' She lifted her fingers to his mouth, wiped the foam across his lower lip. 'See? Now, do you want to play? Or do you really want to talk?'

  She could still taste the soap when they finally emerged from the shower some time later.

  'Shall I open that bottle of wine now?' Luke said, wrapping a towel around his hips.

  'Mmmm. There's some brie, if you're hungry. Or I could -' She broke off as the doorbell rang. 'Who on earth could that be?'

  'Do you want me to find out?'

  'Dressed like that? If it's Mrs Pusey you'll give her palpitations.' Fizz grinned. 'You're giving me palpitations right now.' She pulled on a thick towelling robe and crossed to the door. 'You concentrate on the wine.'

  The bell rang again before she reached the door. A long urgent peal. And when she opened it Melanie flung herself at her. 'Oh, Fizz.'

  'Mel, what is it? What's happened?' But the girl was shaking, tearful and Fizz looked helplessly over her head to Andy. As their eyes met, her insides contracted and twisted.

  'I'm sorry, Fizz. It's Edward,' he said. 'They've taken him to the hospital.'

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  'FIZZ!' Luke called from the kitchen. 'I can't find a corkscrew.' He waited, but there was no answer and grinning in anticipation of another teasing game, he put down the bottle and walked to the door. 'I don't know what you think I'm made of, girl, but -'

  Three pairs of eyes met his. Melanie, open-mouthed appeared unable to speak, Andy with a knowing look that took in the damp hair, the towel wrapped around his hips covering nothing but wet skin. Fizz was in shock.

  'Funny time for a social call,' he said. 'What's up?'

  'Edward collapsed at the studios about an hour ago,' Andy said, quickly pulling himself together. 'He's been taken to the General. Claudia asked us to fetch Fizz.'

  'Collapsed?' His guts twisted, like spaghetti round a fork. 'Was it a heart attack?'

  Fizz uttered a brief anguished cry and Melanie began to cry.

  'It's all my fault,' she sobbed and for one sickening moment he stared full into the face of a nightmare of his own creation. He had to get Fizz out of there before Melanie spilled it all out, give himself time to explain. But she looked so fragile that when he touched her arm he was almost afraid that she might break.

  'Fizz?' She stirred, looked at him with eyes that would tear a man's heart to shreds. 'Go and get dressed, my love, I'll take you to the hospital.'

  'Yes. Yes, of course.'

  He watched her go, wanting to be with her, to hold her, to tell her that he never meant it to be like this. That he had never wanted to hurt her. But it wasn't true. His sole intention had been to hurt Edward by making his daughters suffer. He hadn't the right, it would be pure self-indulgence to unburden himself now. She was in enough pain.

  Instead he forced himself to give his attention to Melanie. It was barely a year since she had lost her own mother, since he had had to tell her about the accident, take her to the hospital to watch Juliet die.

  'Why were you at the studios, Mel? I thought you and Andy were going into Brighton tonight for some concert.'

  'Claudia has an audition tomorrow, something big. So she asked if we could record Holiday Bay this evening instead of tomorrow. Edward came back especially.'

  An audition. The fork twisted again. An audition for a play he had agreed to back provided Claudia Beaumont was given the lead. Oh, God, the irony of it, the sheer bloody irony. The one thing he hadn't been able to fix, but hadn't worried about because there was no rush, because he could do it in the morning, had blown right up in his face.

  'Can you tell me what happened?'

  She sniffed a little, pushed the hair back from her face. 'Um… We'd done most of it before Mr Beaumont arrived. He only had a few words, right at the end. I don't think he'd even seen the script. He just took it, glanced at his lines, nodded and said we might as well go for it.'

  'And?'

  'Oh, he was wonderful. You'd have thought he'd been rehearsing all week. He said his lines, I said mine and the recording manager nodded to say everything was fine. So we all started to talk at once, you know how it is.' Luke didn't, but had no wish to be told.

  'What happened?'

  'It was so odd. I turned round to speak to Mr Beaumont and he was staring at me so strangely. He just said, "Juliet?" That's all. He looked, well, haunted. Then he just crumpled up - oh, Fizz,' she said, breaking off as she saw her in the bedroom door. 'I'm so sorry. It was the name - I shouldn't have changed the name.'

  'Mel,' Luke interrupted, sharply. 'This isn't your fault.' She looked at him, her eyes full of tears. 'It's not your fault. Andy will take you home.' He glanced at the other man. 'Will you stay with her until I get back?'

  'Of course.'

  Fizz had muddled the buttons of the thick, padded shirt she was wearing, he noticed. It was such a childlike mistake, making her seem utterly defenceless. His heart just cracked with longing to go to her, to tell her that it would be all right, that he would put the world back together for her if she'd let him.

  But if Edward died…

  'We'll go now. I'll ring as soon as there's any news,' he said, ushering them through the door, closing it behind them.

  He turned, slowly, because he didn't want to face this girl that he loved to distraction. Didn't want to see the accusation in her eyes. But when he turned he realised that she hadn't yet worked it out.

  'I'd better get dressed,' he said. She didn't answer. He could almost see the cogs spinning in her brain. Then she took a deep shuddering breath, almost shook herself.

  'Hurry, Luke,' she said.

  He was already moving, relief that they had both been reprieved for the moment, making his hands shake. When he rejoined her in the hall she was frowning. The cogs were busy clicking again.

  'Are you ready to go, Fizz?' He kept his voice crisp, impersonal. She didn't answer, but picked up her bag and hurried down the stairs, leaving him to make sure the door was shut.

  For a while they drove through the darkness in a silence so thick that he could feel it coming at him in waves from her. He stared ahead, his face fixed on the road, his hands grasping the wheel until his knuckles stood out, bone white. Then she turned to look at him.

  'You've done this, haven't you Luke? That's what Melanie meant when she said it was her fault?'

  'Fizz, I don't think this is a good time ...'

  'I don't know how, or why. But if my father dies you will be responsible.' He didn't deny it. Didn't make excuses. What excuses could he make? Phillip had warned him that revenge was a wild justice. Once set in motion the outcome could not be foreseen o
r controlled. 'Will you be able to live with that on your conscience?' she asked.

  Not angrily, but as if she genuinely wanted to know.

  And the answer was staring him in the face. No. He wouldn't be able to live with himself. He wouldn't deserve to. He simply prayed it wouldn't happen and with some relief drew up at the entrance to the hospital. Fizz scrambled out, not waiting for him to open the door. 'I'll find somewhere to park,' he said.

  'No. Go away, Luke. Go away and leave us all in peace.' She didn't wait to see if he had obeyed her, but pushed open the door and was immediately enveloped in the sterile, over-heated atmosphere of the hospital.

  For a moment he rested his head on the back of his hands as he gripped the steering wheel, wishing he could do as she asked. Give them back the peace he had snatched away. He would try. But if Edward died there would be no peace for any of them for a long time. For him, perhaps never.

  Claudia was in the waiting room, pacing backwards and forwards. Jim Ryan was there too. He immediately went to Fizz, drawing her into the bulky comfort of his arms to hug her.

  'What's happening? Why are you out here, why isn't someone with Dad? Can I see him?' she said, the words tumbling over themselves, an antidote to the dreadful thoughts racketing around inside her head, too jumbled up to sort out right now. Or maybe she just didn't want to sort them out.

  'The doctor's with him, Fizz,' Jim said, quietly. 'They're taking blood for tests, that sort of thing. It'll be a while. Come and sit down.' He glanced up. 'Claudia for goodness sake sit down, you're wearing out the carpet.'

  Claudia stopped pacing. 'Sorry.' She looked deathly pale beneath the glamour of her make-up and Fizz broke away from Jim and went to her, taking her hand, squeezing it.

  'I just feel so bloody helpless,' she said. 'Now I know why people smoke. I'll be biting my fingernails next. There's nothing else to do when you're waiting.' She looked over the top of Fizz's head. 'Oh, Luke. I didn't expect to see you.'

  'I drove Fizz to the hospital. What's the news?' Fizz didn't turn round, not quite able to face him. Or to face the fact that the man she was stupidly, crazily in love with, who had just made passionate love to her, who had just asked her to marry him, was somehow responsible for causing her father to collapse. He hadn't denied it when she had challenged him. But how?

  'The doctor's with Edward now,' Jim said, filling the silence. 'Tests, that sort of thing. There's coffee if you want it.'

  Luke shook his head. Claudia resumed her pacing. Jim helped himself to coffee. The hands of the clock dragged round.

  'I can't stand any more of this,' Claudia said, finally. 'I'm going to find out what's happening.'

  'Claudia they'll come for you,' Jim began, but she had already pushed the door open and was striding down the corridor. Fizz wanted to go with her, run after her. But she was afraid, terribly afraid of what she might find.

  The door opened and a nurse stuck her head around it. 'Miss Beaumont?' Fizz spun around. 'Do you want to pop down and see your father now? Your sister is with him.'

  'No one else,' the nurse warned, looking around the waiting room as if anticipating a sudden invasion. 'He needs to be quiet.'

  Edward Beaumont was white, hollow cheeked, with a drip-tube in the back of his hand and the constant bleep of the heart and blood pressure monitor a counterpoint to the low background hum of machinery. He still managed to raise a smile for his girls, lifting the oxygen mask so that he could speak. 'Sorry to give everyone such a fright,' he said, in a series of short gasping breaths. 'I should know better at my age.'

  Fizz leaned forward to kiss him. 'Don't talk,' she said. 'Save your strength.'

  'I think perhaps you should let your father rest now,' a nurse advised.

  'What's the matter with him? Can I speak to the doctor?' Fizz asked.

  'I'm afraid you'll have to wait until the morning to see the doctor. We're having a busy night. Has your father been under a lot of stress lately?'

  'Yes,' Claudia said. 'Quite a lot.'

  'Then that may be the cause of his collapse. There doesn't appear to be any obvious sign of a heart attack, although until the tests come back we can't be sure. He's being given a clot buster drug as a precaution, that's all.'

  That's all? 'Can we stay at the hospital?' Fizz asked.

  'There's no need. He's not in any danger, it's likely he's just suffering from nervous exhaustion. We'll ring you if there's the slightest change. I promise.' But she'd been a nurse long enough to recognise the need to be close to a loved one in trouble. 'Look, why don't you stay until he's asleep? There's tea and coffee in the waiting room. Just help yourself.'

  'But if we wanted to stay?'

  'I won't throw you out, but I really wouldn't advise it. And it won't do your father any good if you wear yourselves out, will it?'

  Luke and Jim looked up as they went back into the waiting room. 'How is he?' Luke asked.

  Claudia looked at Fizz obviously expecting her to answer, but Fizz was incapable of speaking. 'Stress, exhaustion. Hopefully not a heart attack. He looked done in when he came to the studios, I suppose after a day of meetings the drive back here in time to record Holiday Bay was just too much.'

  'He didn't have to do that,' Fizz said. 'We could have edited him in tomorrow.'

  Claudia glanced at Luke. 'He didn't want to disappoint Melanie. He knew how much she was looking forward to her big scene with him.'

  'Big scene? I thought it was just a couple of sentences?'

  'Yes, but what sentences. We've just recorded the Holiday Bay equivalent of the shooting of JR, the death of Grace Archer, The Killing of Sister George -'

  'Who are we killing off?' Fizz demanded, horrified.

  'Weren't you were at the script conference?' Claudia hadn't been.

  'Well, yes, but I wasn't paying that much attention to be honest. I've had a lot on my mind.' She turned as the door opened behind her.

  'Mr Beaumont is asleep.' The young nurse who brought the news blushed as she found herself suddenly centre stage. 'I really do think you should all go home. You can ring anytime. First thing in the morning, as early as you like, I don't mind.'

  'And you promise you'll ring us if anything happens?' Fizz asked. 'Have you got a number?'

  'They've got mine,' Claudia said.

  'I'll ring, I promise.'

  'Come on, Fizz, we're just in the way here. Jim, can you give me a lift back to the prom? My car's still there,' Claudia asked.

  'I'll come with you,' Fizz said, quickly, not looking at Luke. She couldn't bear to look at him. The intensity of both loving him and hating him were too much to bear. She sensed rather than saw his determined move towards her. 'In fact I think I'll stay with you tonight, if you don't mind?'

  Fizz saw Claudia frown, glance at Luke, decide not to say what she was thinking. 'Whatever you like.'

  But when Jim dropped them at the pier, Fizz didn't get into Claudia's car. 'There's something I have to do.'

  'Fizz -'

  'Don't worry. Someone will run me home. Or I'll get a taxi.'

  'I thought you were going to stay with me, or was that just an excuse to avoid Luke?' Fizz didn't answer. Claudia sighed. 'Patrick March should have been horsewhipped for what he did to you. I let him off far too lightly.'

  'Patrick?' No one had dared to say that name in her presence for years. Suddenly it was common currency. 'What did you do to him?'

  'Oh, nothing much. Just a few well-placed rumours to make nervous producers back off. I couldn't have him rocketing to stardom while you were languishing with permanent stage fright, now could I? It wouldn't have been right.'

  'But he had real talent. With the right breaks -'

  'So did you, little sister.' She kissed Fizz on the cheek. 'And he didn't give a damn for your breaks did he? He never did anything to put things right.'

  'No, I suppose not.'

  'Don't feel sorry for him, Fizz. You've worked hard to make something of your life, even if it does mean slaving away in that ghastl
y little office. Patrick March was pretty and he had talent, but he saw a short cut and took it without a thought for what it would do to you. If he'd had half your strength he would have made it, no matter what.' Claudia reached out, rubbed absently at her sister's cheek. 'You could still be a star if you wanted it badly enough.' Fizz could hardly believe her ears. Claudia had been the first to say she had got the film part purely because of her name and she shouldn't let it go to her head because she was bound to make a mess of it. And the first to race to her side when the predicted mess hit the fan. 'Do you want it?'

  'Who'd run my radio station?'

  'Good grief, who would want to? Well, don't work too hard, Fizz. I'll see you at the hospital first thing. Oh, and if Luke rings, I'll tell him I've tucked you up with a hot water bottle and a sleeping pill, shall I?'

  'You can tell him whatever you wish.'

  'I'll let you off the hook temporarily, little sister, but he's not going away and you're going to have to face him sooner or later. Unless you plan to spend the rest of your emotional life in hiding?'

  Emotional life. What a joke.

  'I'm not in hiding, Claud. Not any more.' She shook her head as she anticipated her sister's interest. 'There's something I have to do. It won't take long. I'll see you in the morning.'

  The station was quiet, the offices empty and dark, only the newsroom and one of the broadcasting suites were occupied so late. Fizz went straight to the recording studio, turning on the light that flashed momentarily and then flooded the room.

  As she expected, abandoned Holiday Bay scripts lay strewn over the table and the floor where the actors had dropped them as they had read their parts. Just so much waste paper. She gathered them up into a heap and began to sift through them, looking for a complete set.

  Then she sat down and read it through quickly anxious to get to the last few lines that seem to have caused her father to collapse.

  It was a nice twist.

  The wedding had been on and off for so long that the listeners would be sure that something would go wrong. But it didn't. The groom survived the stag night high jinks. Just. The bride's last minute nerves were dealt with. Everything, in fact, proceeded as smoothly as a well oiled clock. The tension built. Something had to go wrong. And of course it did.