What the hell?
As she sped full throttle towards him George decided to go with instinct. He abandoned the coffee and got himself to the other side of the room, that table and chairs again between them proving their weight in gold.
What was the matter with the woman? She was screaming at him? George felt his anger rise. After everything she had said about Susie, her lies and innuendo. The terror he’d felt earlier tonight came flooding back. All his fears and frustrations provided fuel.
‘Coffee?’ she screamed again. ‘You turn your back on me and say – coffee?’
He should have seen the mug coming. He gasped and instinctively leapt back, not as a result of the mug slamming into his chest but because of the boiling hot liquid that now seeped through the cotton of his shirt, burning his skin. He tugged and tore at the shirt, determined to remove the source of the ongoing burn. As he wrenched it off and stared at his red angry chest, he turned his black angry eyes on Porsche.
‘Why?’ he yelled. ‘Why would you …?’
‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. Let me have a look and—’
His hands immediately raised in a halting gesture. ‘Stay away from me. Stay. Away.’ If she came any closer he would not be held accountable for his actions.
‘I didn’t think. It was you talking of coffee when …’ Her eyes glinted. ‘You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you? I’ve done everything you asked of me. Played my role perfectly. And you’ve gone and fallen for her! Mike says no. You’re just choosing your moment.’ She screamed, ‘But I can SEE it!’
George saw the second mug coming. He ducked and side-stepped to the left to avoid further boiling splashes reaching his legs. They’d already taken a hit earlier but he was not removing his jeans. He didn’t even want to be shirtless around her. With that thought, he un-scrunched his now coffee-stained, but no longer scorching, shirt and slipped his arms into the holes, while all the time keeping an eye on Porsche’s movements.
Only now did Porsche’s words sink in. His look turned incredulous. ‘You are not seriously asking me whether I’ve fallen for Susie?’
‘Oh George …’ Was that relief, elation – what the hell was that in her voice? ‘Thank God! I should have listened to him. It’s just tonight you looked—’
‘Of course I’ve fallen for her!’ he roared. ‘I love her!’ Provocation? Oh yeah, but he was stuck in a room with a hysterical, delusional Porsche whose words were equally as disturbing as her actions. She was going to hear it and grasp it! And Susie was safe at the hotel. And any minute now Francis would appear. George would say his piece and they’d be gone.
‘What exactly has “Mike” said to you?’
‘Susie, I have a feeling I shouldn’t be doing this.’ Graham spoke as he turned the car out of the hotel driveway. ‘Whenever you ask something of me, I suffer at George’s hands. The horse was—’
‘I’m sorry. You did blame me?’
‘Of course I did! But why do I think he’s not going to be happy with this turn of events?’
‘Blame me again. We think Porsche has lured George to the set.’
She didn’t need to say any more; he cursed and put his foot down.
The phone clutched in Susie’s hand, vibrated: George’s phone. The hotel receptionist had handed it to her on the way out. He’d apparently left it there earlier. At least that provided an explanation for why he wasn’t returning her calls. It didn’t mean he was incapacitated, that Porsche had— She took deep calming breaths. She couldn’t let her fears take hold. If she lost it here she’d be a useless, blubbering wreck. But the idea of George … She swallowed hard. He was going to be fine.
Focusing on the phone, which had now lit up, Susie stared. It was a text message … from Porsche.
As Susie continued to stare at the screen, Cassie, at her side, reached across and clicked the receive button.
‘I’ll be there in five. Delayed a bit this end. Our usual spot?’
Betrayal …
No! Porsche was sick. This was her playing games all over again.
Susie found the phone snatched from her hands by Cassie, who in turn started scanning through the messages.
‘You can’t do that!’ Susie protested.
‘Just watch me,’ she replied, distractedly. Moments later she slanted the phone away from Susie so she couldn’t see the screen.
Why did they keep doing this to her? What hope did she have of keeping her head in check when they did things like this!
She found herself asking, ‘There’s more isn’t there? Give me the phone.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Give. It. To. Me.’
‘I’m not handing it over. Yes there’s more but … Rachael … they’ve got hold of his phone somehow. They must have done.’
‘The receptionist,’ Rachael murmured from the front seat. ‘Michael was talking to her earlier.’
‘Oh for goodness sake, I’m a big girl. Let me see it,’ Susie demanded.
‘Soul Mates don’t cheat on each other, Suse. It’s a physical impossibility.’
‘Like Matey? Who’s forever at Rob’s heels? You can’t even entice him to the flat on his own to be fed!’ Susie immediately regretted her words. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.’ And she didn’t. And she trusted George … She was sure she did.
‘How about you just let me see the text from Francis?’ Susie cajoled of Cassie. ‘Does it say where on site they were to meet so we know where George would have been heading?’
When Cassie didn’t respond she prompted again.
‘I think … I might have deleted it by mistake.’
Susie attempted to swallow over the lump in her throat. There had to be one. ‘Cassie?’
‘I’ve done something by mistake.’
She was lying. But there had to be a text from Francis, or at least from whoever was purporting to be him. It was why George had had to leave her tonight on the evening of their engagement party. Why he’d rushed off … insisting he needed to go alone.
Betrayal …
‘They’ve got hold of his phone!’ Cassie said again, defensively.
‘I don’t pretend to know what’s going on here, but you don’t honestly think George would cheat on you?’ Graham asked, astounded. ‘Ignore the gossip, that’s all it is. Playing around with texts would be right up Porsche’s street. I’ve never believed the flowers are from George whatever Evie might say. I’m convinced she’s far enough gone to send them to herself and pretend—’
‘Shut up!’ Rachael growled ferociously from the front of the car. Cassie sank down in her seat.
‘What flowers, Graham?’ Susie forced herself to ask.
‘Flowers?’ George spluttered. ‘You think I sent you flowers!’
‘You bastard!’ she screamed, eyes flashing disconcertingly at him from the other side of the table. ‘You did send me flowers, damn you!’ She kicked and threw over all the chairs in her vicinity. ‘Even today!’ she spat, now placing her hands palm down on the table and leaning across in his direction. ‘Today! On the day we celebrated your engagement! And you dare say you love that blimp when all the time you’re telling me how beautiful I am, all the things you can’t wait to do to me, how you think of me all the time. How after the publicity stunt we’ll be together!’
‘I’ve never said that to you!’ George cried. ‘Did Michael? Is that what he told you?’ Placing his own hands on the table he looked Porsche right in the eye. ‘And if you ever, ever refer to Susie like—’
‘Why are you doing this to me?’ Porsche suddenly wailed, moving back.
And in that split second he caught a flash of pain in her eyes. In fact it was in her whole body language as she proceeded to pick up a chair, position it upright and … crumple into its seat.
She appeared vulnerable; as he’d once thought her. And she still was, he realised. And Michael had used it, evidently feeding her lie after lie after lie. Just as in the past.
George didn’t know what to say or do. He just shook his head and said quietly, ‘When have I ever spoken such words to you? I haven’t done any of this, you have to believe me. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t do it to you. I wouldn’t do it to anyone.’
‘So what are you … saying here?’ Porsche asked shakily, albeit with her chin raised in the air.
He was going to kill Michael for this. ‘I’m saying …’
‘Because this sounds to me like you’re trying to wheedle your way out of things!’
‘Porsche! Will you just think? I have never said any of those things to you and when have I ever given you the impression I feel that way? I’ve been actively avoiding you because of the things you’ve said about Susie and the lies you’ve been spouting. My solicitors have even sent you letters.’
‘Mike said—’
‘Whatever Michael has said is crap! I sent no flowers. The letters from the solicitors were real. And on my instructions! I have avoided you because we have to work together and I haven’t trusted myself not to throttle you! I love Susie. Whatever the hell “Mike” has said, I am going to marry her and spend the rest of my life with her.’
Porsche lowered her head to her visibly tremulous hands. And George felt like shit. She was hurting, plain as day. He’d had no choice. But she should have bloody known. If it hadn’t been for Michael, she would have done!
He sank into the chair opposite her, rubbing his eyes. ‘I don’t know why Michael’s been doing it. He seems to have his own agenda. His financial position is desperate and he doesn’t … approve of Susie. He does, however, approve of you and—’ George caught himself rubbing his damned forehead and stopped on a curse. ‘And he’s often tried to match us up.’
‘You expect me to believe he would do all this to—’
‘He thinks I’ll cut my work down if I’m with Susie. And he’s right. It’s my own fault. I always told him I would when I found the right woman.’
‘Yet he doesn’t think you’d do that with me?’
Bloody hell! And that was another shriek. He chose his words carefully. ‘You’re in the business. It’s different. He probably thought he’d get to manage you, too.’
‘He is!’ She looked at him horrified. ‘As of next month.’
‘Well there you go. With you his income doubles, with Susie it dwindles to next to nothing.’
George rose from his seat and started pacing. ‘That’s the best guess in any event. But I don’t know why he’s done it, just that he has! And as well as saying all this stuff to you, he’s warned Susie off and manufactured photographs and God knows what else.’
‘The horse,’ Porsche said, shaking her head. ‘I didn’t know how it would pan out – I promise. I can’t stand the—’ She paused, before continuing, ‘Susie, but I never imagined it would end up how it did. I hadn’t a clue Michael planned on using the gun. I promise you that.’
Michael had used the gun! He had used the gun! Porsche went to speak, but George held up a hand which he forced himself to unclench from its fist, to buy himself some time to cool down. Dear God when he got his hands on Michael! Because he would. He’d make damned sure of that. He took several deep deliberate breaths and moved to lean heavily against the counter of the kitchen area. There he made himself slowly release the other fist, still clenched at his side, rather than give in to the urge to pound it against the counter. Jesus, he wanted to speak to Susie, to hear her voice.
‘I used to think you were my knight in shining armour,’ Porsche suddenly announced. Her voice was artificially bright as she fiddled with her fingernails and pointedly avoided looking at him.
‘Why?’ George asked with an accompanying frown.
‘How you came rushing to my aid.’
‘It was no more than anyone else would have done,’ George said, cringing as he recalled the situation she’d been in. Naked, pissed and out-of-her-head on God knows what; in the corner of an ‘exclusive’ club to boot. She could hardly stand, but men were all over her.
‘From that moment you were … special to me. I don’t know why I’m fessing this. Perhaps because things can hardly get any worse …’ Her voice broke.
George moved away from the counter to sit himself down again. He had no idea what to say.
‘Perhaps because I want you to understand why Michael seems to have played me …’ She looked at him afresh, a spark of hope in her eyes. She shook her head again in response to his look and said acidly, ‘Because he evidently has! And he knew, of course. He saw it whenever I looked at you.’
The man was beyond a bastard. His only saving grace was that perhaps he’d thought he and Porsche might eventually get together? Had underestimated how he and Susie felt for each other? But that was clutching at straws. George had trusted him. He’d been his manager for eighteen years! How did that reflect on him?
‘I’m not special, just ask Susie.’ George winced the moment the words were out of his mouth. He watched her roll her eyes.
He tried again. ‘I did what any man would have done and don’t deserve your … gratitude.’
She shook her head. ‘You think? Similar things happened before and since. Believe me, your reaction was not the norm. You looked after me. Made me feel better than I deserved to feel. And from then on in, all I wanted to do was age.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘You said no that first time because of my age. Seven years on I’m not seventeen anymore. I thought finally I may have become acceptable.’
He spluttered. He had not said no because of her age. That had definitely been one of the reasons he’d used to lessen the rejection … and in fact it would have been a no because of her age, but …
‘I never meant to give you that impression. It wasn’t just your age. You had no idea what you were doing and it wouldn’t have been right to take advantage of you. And I’m not the one for you. I’ve said no since—’
Porsche snorted and rubbed her eyes. She looked at him for a moment and then looked away to speak. ‘You’ve never actually said no since, George.’
Oh come on. Yes he had. He could think of half a dozen times. He was … sure he could.
‘You made light of things, changed the subject, but you don’t say no. Yet, I was finally getting the message … until Mike picked up the phone and said you wanted me to be your Elizabeth.’
What the hell!
‘You didn’t … did you?’
George slowly shook his head.
‘And then soon after filming began …’ She took a moment before she could continue. ‘All the flowers started arriving with your notes.’
When he’d met Susie and Michael had got panicked.
‘I’m sorry,’ George murmured. For Michael and for him. He’d evidently never known how to handle Porsche, inebriated or sober.
Graham turned the car engine off outside the only building presently displaying lights.
‘You can stop trying to open the door, Suse,’ Rachael announced smugly. ‘The child lock is on. Graham, you are charged with keeping her in here. You’ll need to get in the back, too. George may kill you for bringing her here. However, he will torture you grotesquely before killing you – repeatedly throughout eternity – if you let her out of this car. We are seriously talking about life and death here. And not just yours.’
‘Where are you going?’ George asked, as Porsche got up from the table and started heading towards the door.
‘Fresh air, a walk; anything to clear my head. And I’d like to deal with my … rejection … and humiliation in private.’
She opened the door and … it was dark. There was a lake. She wasn’t sober. And she was frag
ile. She was hurting no matter how much she played the bitch.
‘It’s not safe,’ he found himself saying.
‘What do you care?’ she asked, walking out the door onto the platform at the top of the steps.
He followed. The chill in the night air made him shiver in his wet shirt, hanging open to his waist. He couldn’t let her go off in this state.
He reached his hand out to her. ‘I care.’ Bizarrely it wasn’t a lie. He certainly cared enough not to want to see her floating face down in the lake. None of this was her fault; it was Michael’s.
‘What would little Susie say about that?’
‘No talk of Susie,’ he ground out.
‘Fancy a spot of skinny-dipping then?’ she asked, jiggling her body around and flashing what she wasn’t wearing under her coat.
He shook his head. ‘Come back inside.’ He grasped her hand and pulled her back towards the relative safety of the cabin.
She giggled as the momentum brought her up against his chest. He hissed at the pain of her making contact with his raw skin. And at her contact. He immediately went to put distance between them. But a cry pierced the night.
‘You SHIT!’
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘George?’
Was that Cassie?
‘Cassie?’ he called out, attempting to see into the dark.
‘You total shit! I so don’t know it all! You were meant to make her happy! I should never have lured her to …’ George didn’t hear the rest. Rachael Jones.
White noise instantaneously filled his head. George catapulted himself down the steps, his feet avoiding contact with most.
Susie could not be here … It had stopped. It had damned well stopped!
He encountered Cassie first. With his hands on her shoulders, he begged, ‘Tell me she’s not here. Please tell me she’s not here!’
She stood staring at him as if he’d grown horns since the last time she’d seen him. ‘How can you be half-clothed and saying—?’
He ran towards the car he could make out behind them, bypassing Rachael Jones who was screaming at him, not that he heard a word.
Romancing the Soul Page 34
