Romancing the Soul

by Sarah Tranter

  ‘I’m delighted to hear you’ve moved in with George,’ she was continuing. ‘I’ve never known him so happy. Although he still seems to be keeping you under wraps. It’s difficult, I know. But you are going to the premiere next week?’

  Oh, she was good. Susie narrowed her eyes and their target held her hands up. ‘Guilty. And George would not be happy should he know I mentioned it.’

  Susie sighed, returning her focus to George. She knew he wanted her to go to the premiere. Not that he’d put pressure on her at all. He knew how she felt about the media, but he had spoken of how proud he’d be with her standing by his side. Not that Susie could possibly accept that. And then there were the photographs, and all the speculation that would come with her attendance: was she the girl George had ‘got his horn out’ for?

  George reassured any coverage on that could only be speculation. They could prove nothing. He had a team of top lawyers on it and nothing libellous or slanderous could ever go into print. Not one newspaper would dare. After a glass too much wine last night, George had even said, how, if it was just the once, he would love to be able to cry from the rooftops that she was his. She loved him for the sentiment, extraordinary as it was, but was terrified of what coverage might result. As much for George as for her.

  Michael, his manager, had introduced himself this week, waylaying her on the bus to school. He’d said how George’s career could be ruined by the wrong image and he’d made it clear that Susie was the wrong image. And she’d always known that. And then he’d warned of the media scrum. That no matter the intentions, there could be no protection. Photographers would be everywhere. He’d also insisted that she’d have to give up her job. The media would be too much of an issue, even if she wasn’t deemed unsuitable to teach because of her G-string centrefold.

  Susie released a shaky breath. She hadn’t warmed to the man at all, but then she wouldn’t have warmed to anyone pointing out the painfully obvious. And neither had she felt able to tell George of the encounter, in case he gave the man further black eyes. He was blinded when it came to her, Michael had explained, and wouldn’t listen to sense.

  Because he was presently out of his senses.

  ‘I can see it weighs on your mind. Did George tell you he’s planning on giving up acting to protect you from the limelight?’

  Susie swung around. ‘He’s what?’

  ‘I didn’t think so. Don’t get me wrong, I’d be delighted to see him settle down, lessen his workload, not be in the States all the time. But to abandon it? He’s good at what he does. And he adores it. He doesn’t like the accompanying paraphernalia, but he loves acting. Always has done. He wrote his first play when he was six, roping everyone in to the lesser parts. It was about a cowboy who ate too many baked beans.’ She chuckled at the memory. ‘I recall his brothers and sister were the baked beans.’

  Susie couldn’t suppress the smile as she pictured a six-year-old George, just as he appeared in some of those photographs on that upstairs wall at … home. God, it was home. It felt like home, too!

  But he couldn’t give up acting. Not for her. She wouldn’t allow it.

  ‘The media won’t be easy,’ his mum continued. ‘But George will do everything he can to protect you. And the novelty will wear off. Did you know he even has a designer on standby to make you a dress, should you decide to go to the premiere? But he won’t push it. He refuses to push you into anything you’re not comfortable with. I’m rather envious about the dress though. I can just imagine the creation. I believe he has reserved a particular fabric, just in case. You are a very, very pretty girl Susie and you make an incredibly handsome couple. I very much think he wants to show you off. He’s not happy with you sneaking in and out of the house with that cleaner’s overall on.’

  George knew about that?

  ‘I believe the premiere is next Saturday. I might be convinced to hang around in London until then. It would, of course, depend on whether someone would let me come along to a few dress fittings with her? George would be the happiest man alive with you at his side. Perhaps …’

  ‘Arrrgggghhhhhhhh!’

  Mrs Silbury calmly stopped talking while Susie spun around in the direction of the ear-shattering scream.

  ‘Cut! Who the hell was that? Coffee break everyone.’

  ‘Time to go. Perhaps I could call for you after school on Monday?’

  Susie absently nodded as she watched the flurry of activity and people running. When she turned again to clarify things, Mrs Silbury had gone, although she could distinctly hear her voice.

  ‘Oh deary, deary me. How unfortunate. Did you slip over in that horse manure? How could it have ever got there? And so much of it! Everyone, everyone help poor Miss Sutter-Blythe here.’

  She hadn’t? Susie spun around in an excited circle, not quite able to stop laughing aloud.

  ‘And what’s made you so happy?’ that voice rumbled in her ear and reverberated through her body as her waist was grasped in a pair of wonderfully strong hands and she was pulled against someone’s wonderfully strong body.

  ‘Nothing,’ Susie giggled, before biting her lip and swinging around in George’s arms to look up and meet his gorgeous dancing eyes. ‘I like your mum. And I’m not even an accessory.’

  ‘My mum? What’s …?’

  The words, screamed in that affected drawl, got closer and had evidently got George’s attention too. ‘Away! Away! Don’t touch me. Find that damned horse and put it down!’

  Susie could feel George trying to keep his laughter at bay. He very kindly turned her around in his arms, to share the view.

  ‘Away! Away! What are you all staring at? Haven’t you got jobs to do? Start by finding that horse!’

  Susie turned to hide her response in George’s shaking chest and he turned them both around so their backs were to Porsche as she stomped past.

  ‘My mum you say?’

  ‘Did I say that? But I do like her. And the horse. Which reminds me … can you teach me to ride?’

  Susie had been toying with the idea all morning as she’d watched George on horseback. How wonderful would it be if they could go riding together? He was already teaching her to fence, something he did to help keep fit. And just how good did he look in that get up? She got very hot and sweaty during fencing. Next time she might actually try some of the moves.

  Fencing was certainly preferable to the run she’d insisted on accompanying him on. She’d forgotten about the running bit. But then she wasn’t ruling that one out again either because there’d been that kiss of life … She was exaggerating, but when she’d lain gasping for breath he’d … She gulped.

  ‘I believe you ride exceptionally well,’ George rumbled in her ear.

  ‘George! Horses. I’d love you to teach me to ride.’

  ‘I don’t want you learning to ride,’ he stated categorically, but then frowned.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ He seemed as surprised as she was by his words. ‘I just don’t like the idea of it.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s probably because I used to be scared stiff of the things. As a kid you couldn’t get me near one. It was my father who made me confront the fear and learn to ride. But I don’t like the idea of you riding. Really don’t like it.’

  Susie took a step back so she was out of his arms, and crossing her own. ‘George? You ride so …’

  ‘I know!’ he said, holding his hands up. ‘I know what I sound like. I’m sorry. Of course I’ll teach you. But only if you take it seriously and …’ He caught her look. ‘Bugger! Let’s go find a horse.’

  George was not happy doing this. In fact, that was a major understatement. He’d been scared witless of horses when he’d been a kid, and seeing Susie on one now, reminded him why. She could be hurt. People died from falling off horses.

  ‘Will you please stop frowning d
own there, George?’

  She wasn’t worried at all. It was him. She was loving every second and he should have been loving seeing her loving every second. But he wasn’t.

  She had a hard hat on. The horse – the oldest nag he could find, used as a cart horse in front of the cameras – was only walking. But his fears were screaming at him. It was both ridiculous, and alarming.

  His phone went. Blindly removing it from his pocket so he could keep his eyes firmly focused on Susie, he accepted the call.

  It was Michael and he needed them to meet over coffee to chat. Doing so would be the perfect excuse to get Susie down from the horse. This was perhaps the only time in recent history that he’d welcomed Michael’s call.

  George still hadn’t sent the man packing. He’d apologised profusely for his comments about Susie. He’d simply not understood how George felt about her. Now he did, he would support George wholeheartedly and do his utmost to ensure Susie had as easy a time with the press as possible. There was that little matter of feeling bad about giving him the panda eyes, too.

  ‘Hang on, Michael,’ he said into the phone, while moving over to Susie.

  ‘Time up, Tonto. I’ve got to get back.’ He brought the horse to a standstill and began helping her down, realising too late that lowering her so slowly down his body was not a good idea considering the revealing nature of the lower body attire he wore. He handed the reins over to the person acting as groom and they exchanged a covert glance. Tom. One of the new bodyguards that he’d put in place as of today. Tom knew what he needed to do.

  ‘We’ll catch up later,’ George said against her lips.

  ‘Promise we’ll do it again!’ she cried. Her little jumps against his body doing nothing to help his situation.

  Evidently seeing the glint in his eyes, she clarified, ‘Riding. Lessons. You. Me. Horse. Promise?’

  Against his better judgement he did.

  Susie was bored. They were filming again and it didn’t matter where she stood, she couldn’t see George. She wondered if she shouldn’t go off and see if she could borrow a horse. She could surprise George with what she’d learnt and they’d be a step closer to all those sunset rides together …

  Her mobile rang and caller display showed Rachael. Rachael and Cassie were currently driving her and George up the wall. But Susie was bored. She started walking in the direction of the stables, and picked up. ‘Rach? What’s up?’

  She instantly regretted it. ‘Will you stop asking me to account for my every action? I’m only picking up because I’ve nothing better to do. Butt out will you? There’s interest and there’s freaky obsession in the relationship. What is it with you and Cassie? Why do you need to know everything we do? Actually, don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know. She’s there with you, isn’t she? I can hear her in the background.’

  Rachael clearly hadn’t covered the mouthpiece well, because Susie heard her hiss to Cassie, ‘Flaming Nora! Will you be quiet she can hear you! Stop reverting to type and telling me what to do. We cannot tell her not to do something because the moment I warn her off something, she will do it. It might even give her the idea. And then where are we? We agreed.’

  And Susie thought she and George were mad. There was clearly something doing its rounds. They could all perhaps share a wing, have neighbouring cells.

  ‘So have you been up to anything exciting?’ Rachael asked, innocent as pie.

  ‘I’m not telling you anything.’

  ‘Come on. I miss you Suse. Since you’ve moved out we don’t catch up. We used to tell each other everything.’

  And there was the guilt card. She should have seen that one coming. Rachael had used everything but that all week. Including blackmail. And no, Susie hadn’t relished the idea of George finding out she’d been a fan for the past ten years. There was such a thing as self-respect. She was going to have to choose her moment for that one. Thank God Rachael didn’t know about the eyes. But in any event, threatening Rachael with tipping her father off to the night they’d spent in the police cells removed that threat rather nicely.

  But Susie did feel guilty. They weren’t catching up like they used to. And she did miss her. A little. When she was bored and George wasn’t around. And when she wasn’t being blackmailed. ‘Okay, I give up! I’ve taken up fencing and had my first riding lesson today. George is teaching me and—’

  ‘No! No. No. No!’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Susie asked, both astounded at Rachael’s response and more than a little indignant. ‘What the hell do you mean by no? What gives you the …?’

  Susie’s words trailed away as it became evident Rachael wasn’t listening to her, but was instead conducting her own urgent conversation on the other end of the phone. She couldn’t make out all the words, but heard Cassie cry, ‘Oh dear God! Tell her she cannot get on a horse again. Tell her now! And she must stay away from Michael and Porsche! Tell her! Do you believe me now? Or are you still insisting on the damned church? It’s still repeating! It’s not stopped! This shouldn’t be happening. Not at all! Not without us! It’s them! It’s them!’

  ‘You are not to ride, Suse,’ Rachael now said urgently into the phone. ‘Promise me you won’t ride! And avoid Michael and Porsche like the plague. It’s better to be safe than—’

  Susie had heard more than enough. ‘You both need help.’

  She closed her phone and switched it off before popping it into her pocket and proceeding to the stables.

  Getting a horse was proving difficult. The groom that had been so helpful for George was proving not at all helpful for her. In fact he was insisting every last one of the horses was needed on set any moment. Frustrated, she turned to walk away, but spun around delightedly when she heard a familiar voice.

  Graham. George’s friend. She’d first encountered him in Canterbury, but George had introduced her to him properly this morning. It was lovely to see a friendly face, especially after the burly attitude of the groom.

  ‘They’re not being very helpful, are they?’ he said, leaning against the outside wall of the stables having a fag.

  ‘You could say that.’ She moved over to lean beside him. ‘I was bored and it seemed like a good idea.’

  ‘You ride then?’

  ‘I love riding.’

  ‘Never understood it myself. But you’re talking to the wrong person. I’ve never seen that bloke before today. It’s Jo you need. Come on. We’ll get you sorted.’

  Okkkkaaaaay. She was on the frigging horse. Getting on it hadn’t been remotely as easy or pleasurable as when George had helped her up, but the part with Graham shoving her up with his shoulders on her arse was thankfully over and done with. And she’d eventually convinced Graham she knew exactly what she was doing and had most definitely been on a horse before. And she’d finally managed to shoo that burly groom away, too. He didn’t look like a groom. He was so damned big and butch he’d flatten a shire horse.

  So … Susie just needed to get the horse moving. She made a bit of a clicking noise, rattled the reins around in her hands, did the giddy-up bit while jiggling around. Mmmm.

  Aha! He was finally moving. Oh, this was good. There was nothing to this riding malarkey. ‘What a lovely horse you are.’ She would walk around like this and then she might brave a little trot.

  The sound of approaching hooves had her twisting around carefully in the saddle. No! The bitch. Riding like a dream. And she’d spotted Susie and was no doubt coming over to gloat. One of these days she’d wipe that smirk off her face. Picturing Porsche how she’d looked earlier, courtesy of George’s mum, with a few forks embedded here and there, Susie returned the smirk.

  ‘Helllloooooo,’ Porsche drawled, on drawing nearer.

  Susie grunted.

  ‘I saw George teaching you earlier. He’s a fine teacher, very fine indeed. He seemed focused on the
task in hand. Which was good. Personally, I find he can be so easily distracted. Particularly when giving private lessons. And demanding, so very, very demanding. Not that that’s a complaint, of course. Such sessions are sooo invigorating and … mutually satisfying.’

  Betrayal …

  Susie beat her head into submission, firmly reminding herself of the falsehoods Porsche had fed the press, implying a relationship with George. She thought of sharpened pitchforks.

  ‘I’ll race you,’ Porsche challenged.

  Yeah, right. And Susie was going to risk falling flat on her arse in front of her. There was no way she was going to give her that satisfaction. She would choose her moment to … Oh … shit!

  Porsche had circled Susie’s horse before suddenly tearing off and the action and sound of galloping hooves had spooked him and … the challenge was on! Susie had only been casually holding the reins and one had slipped through her hands and – nope, both. Oh God. She desperately clutched the horse’s mane, shut her eyes … and prayed.

  ‘Go!’ George ordered Harry, another one of the bodyguards he’d hired, as he mounted his own horse and followed.

  Harry had just reported that Susie was giving herself a riding lesson. George had no idea how she’d managed to pull it off, particularly in front of three damned bodyguards, one of whom was acting as an impromptu groom. Attempting to rein himself in, rather than the horse, he counselled himself to remain calm. Rational. He needed more rationality where Susie was concerned. Rational would be very good right now.

  George rounded the corner of the makeshift paddock to see Porsche on horseback, circling Susie. Great! He wondered just what venom … His thoughts froze as he focused more clearly on Susie. She was on the same horse as earlier, which was something, but with her up there like that it looked neither old or nag like enough for his— And she wasn’t wearing a hat! He attempted to repress the panic, but there was zero chance of being rational here. He and Susie were going to be having serious words. Porsche was leaving and …

  George watched in horror at what happened next. Then he was sinking his heels into the side of his horse. He noted three other horses joining the chase, each approaching from a different angle, but equally keeping their distance in order not to frighten Susie’s horse any further than perhaps it already was. She’d lost the reins, he could see that much. He couldn’t let his emotions click in here. He’d release them when this was over and she was safe and sound. She had to be safe and sound.