by Anne Styles
'As if it would - I'm devoted to you, James,' Charlotte assured him. 'But of course, if you must desert me for Auntie Cress, I suppose I have to learn to understand about older women.'
'Older women - Auntie Cress?' James hooted with laughter. 'Don't let her catch you calling her either of those!'
Nick found himself next to a male, blonder version of Sarah in the bar. 'You have to be George,' he guessed, holding out his hand. 'I'm Nicholas Grey.' George Campbell was as attractive as Sarah, with the same thickly lashed hazel eyes, and slow, wide smile, which showed as he recognized the voice on the telephone over Christmas. He wanted to be angry with Nick, but Nick turned out to be as charming as Sarah had led him to believe, and reluctantly he soon found himself liking him.
Maggie seemed overwhelmed to find herself surrounded by such glamorous and exciting people. James was attracting his usual crowd of admirers, and Charles and Nick, though cool with each other, were equally friendly to her. She was so pleased that she had been to , the hairdresser's and bought a new dress for the occasion.
The fact that the entire audience were praising Sarah made Nick ache with pride for her. He watched the love scene after the interval with a wistful smile at the two young lovers' passionate exchanges as they played the scene, half on the crimson-draped bed, half on the floor. Sarah's experience at his hands had certainly prepared her well for this, he thought wryly, and his mind went back to Natasha playing Juliet for him at Oxford all those years ago. He wondered if Charles remembered it too.
How different she had been, slender, almost waif-like, with a cloud of dark hair, waxy pale compared with Sarah's healthy glow. He had fallen in love with Natasha then, and been sucked into her terrifying, black, moody world, and he shuddered now, remembering the despair and rage she had inspired in him. Yet he had truly loved her, and at that moment he realized that Sarah was the only girl he had loved since with the same intensity. Since Natasha, Nick had been determined not to let a woman get to him, and he had stuck to his resolve over the years. He knew exactly why he had married Diana Mackenzie, and he didn't always like what he'd done.
But it had been done, and he was stuck with that.
He knew that part of the reason he was 'stuck with it' was his never-ending guilt over Diana's suffering during her pregnancy with Charlotte and then the baby's birth. Never would he forget the agonies Diana had endured to give him his perfect daughter. And, however empty his marriage was, and always had been, he couldn't in all conscience just abandon his wife.
The realization of his feelings for Sarah hit him hard, and for a moment he shut his eyes, reeling with the shock, and then wondered what on earth he was going to do about it. Could he really risk leaving Diana for a girl of twenty-five? Abandon his wife, and lose his daughter into the bargain - for Diana would never allow Charlotte to forgive him, he was sure, much as Charlotte admired Sarah.
The idea of leaving Diana was certainly very tempting, however, when he remembered the sensual hours he and Sarah had shared the previous night. Then he thought of the company, and the people who were dependent on him for their livelihood - with regret. He would lose control, and without him the company would certainly struggle. There was no way he could work for NGA with someone else in charge. Although, theoretically, other people could run it, it was due to Nick's talent alone that the company thrived as it did.
Alistair had always threatened he would demand a huge financial compensation for Diana's share of it if anything happened between Nick and Diana, and Nick knew he meant it. Buying her out, and possibly Charles as well, would certainly bankrupt him. For all their success, that kind of sudden cash demand would be impossible to meet and there would be no way he could start NGA again - particularly without the valuable financial knowhow of Charles Hastings. No way would he help Nick in a new life with Sarah.
He slid lower in his seat, struggling to push the thoughts to the back of his mind, to concentrate on the stage, and prayed that for a while Diana would not find out exactly how he felt about Sarah . . . that maybe, just maybe, there was a solution if only he could think of it - a way to save his employees and marry Sarah. But he knew sadly that it was the last thing he could discuss with her.
Cress caught his eye and smiled fleetingly, thinking it was Tim being just a little too sincere for Nick's comfort that had made him look so sad.
The applause for Sarah's curtain call was tremendous, and as she was pushed forwards by Tim to stand alone, slim and trembling in her white and gold brocade dress, Nick thought for a moment how vulnerable she looked, and how terribly young. Then she turned and took Tim's hand, so that they could take the applause together, and her smile broke through.
Being a film and TV personality, Sarah found the applause a heady new experience, but she still approached her friends in the private bar with caution, waiting anxiously for Nick's approval. Despite Charlotte's presence, he laughingly swept her up first, and shocked Maggie to the core in the process.
Barry Harper appeared, and gradually most of the cast, all ready to congratulate her. Charlotte was as enthusiastic as everyone else, demanding that Sarah sign her programme and then persuading her to introduce her to the rest of the cast - particularly Tim Farmer.
'I think you may have just lost yourself an admirer, James!' Nick teased him as they watched Charlotte hanging on to every word Tim uttered.
'Such a fickle lady!' James grinned. 'She was swearing her undying loyalty in the interval, too.' 'Thank goodness for Tim, then!' Cress grinned. 'I must say, though, it was brave of you to bring her, Nick.'
'Not much choice,' he admitted ruefully. 'Still, a little culture won't hurt her, I suppose.'
'And at least having met Sarah on her own ground she perhaps learn to see her as the charming girl she is,' Cress said. 'Because you can bet your sweet life she hasn't heard much good of her at home!'
'I hope you're right,' Nick sighed. 'God, Cress, what am I doing?'
'Getting yourself into one great big jam, Nicholas! That's what you're doing!' Cress said tartly. 'And not just at home. Charlie looks about ready to commit murder too!'
'Charlie has got to learn to live with it!' Nick snapped. 'As I did over Natasha. And the sooner he does, the better!'
'Easier said than done, Nick. Charles is besotted with her '
'Then more fool him,' Nick returned. 'God, Cress! I'm a total idiot. I'll wreck Sarah's life as well as my own at this rate.'
'Then give her up. Nick.' Cress squeezed his arm in sympathy. 'You know it's the wisest thing to do.'
'It may be the wisest,' Nick said. 'But it's not what I want to do.'
'You may have to, darling. Or sit down and do some very hard thinking.'
CHAPTER 18
Nick did that many times in the next few weeks. With hours to spend flying between Heathrow and Los Angeles, he had plenty of time to think about Sarah and the predicament he was in. Ironically, Diana seemed to be making a huge effort to make their marriage work: coming up to London frequently, often letting her own work suffer to do so.
Since the night of the film premiere Nick had continued to sleep separately from her, but lately he was becoming more and more aware of her desire for him to move back into their joint bedroom, a move he was very reluctant to agree to as the temptation to ask for a divorce became stronger.
Fully committed with her National appearances and preparations for a new film, Sarah had very little time to worry about Nick, or the coming BAFTA awards. Until Nick announced that, unusually, Diana had decided not to attend, so he was free to escort Sarah. Then she panicked and raced Cress all over London looking for another new dress. The green one, beautiful as it was, had been relegated to the back of her wardrobe. After the debacle of the film premiere she had decided she would never wear it again.
Nick, on collecting her on the night of the awards, approved of the slim column of grey silk, much to her relief, and she laughed as she held him off when he wanted to do more than kiss her.
'Bill's waiting
downstairs,' she protested, 'and you'll crease it. Nick, please!' She realized very quickly that he had been drinking, and she was careful not to antagonize him, tonight of all nights.
'All right!' He gave in gracefully enough, sensing that for once she meant no. 'But wait till we get home!'
'You'll never make it if you carry on drinking as you obviously have been!' Sarah rebuked. 'Have you had a row with Diana, by any chance?'
'Mind your own business!' he almost snapped at her, then he laughed. 'Come on, you were the one who didn't want to keep Bill waiting - though it wouldn't be the first time!'
'I bet it wouldn't!' She took his cue, and forgot her question, following him obediently downstairs and greeting Bill cheerfully. He often drove them now, and he was very fond of Sarah, though he heartily disapproved of Nick's affair with her.
Nick had been a member of BAFTA for many years, and had served on the Council for several. Busy as he was, he had found the time to chair one of the juries for the awards, as he normally did. But like a lot of other members, he found the awards ceremony long-winded and often immensely boring - unless it involved his own work, of course!
This year he felt a little more kindly towards attending, especially as Diana wasn't. She had cited the sycophantic table-hopping procedure before and after the awards as her reason for staying away. But they both knew it was because she would have to sit at the same table as Sarah for several hours.
Sarah herself was happy, sweeping into the hotel with Nick, feeling as if she belonged. As nominees, they were feted, and she had learnt to like it. Nick, more laid-back about it, calmly ordered extra bottles of wine for their table. 'It's a long night,' he explained to Sarah, when she protested.
She shuddered at the thought of him drinking malt all night. He rarely drank to excess, but when he did she had learnt to be very wary. Sitting down at their table, she prayed he would win his awards, or he would be impossible.
As it was, he disappeared with Seth for quite some time during the early part of the evening, leaving Sarah alone.
Relaxed, then, with James, Charles and Cress for company Sarah ignored his absence, knowing that his business with Seth was likely to involve both her and James. Seth was setting up a film in Ireland for later that year and she knew he and his director wanted both of them for it. Her thoughts were diverted by Cress, trying to persuade her to be a bridesmaid at their autumn wedding.
'How the hell can James be married in church?' Sarah demanded. 'He's been divorced twice!'
'I have a sympathetic minister,' Cress grinned. 'And my father's a church warden!'
'I'm far too tall to be a bridesmaid for you,' Sarah . complained.
'My sister is nearly as tall as you,' Cress said, brooking no argument. 'And almost as blonde - though she's had some help!'
'Well, if you insist.' Sarah gave in reluctantly. 'And if I'm not stuck on location somewhere.' Their happiness suddenly seemed to cast a shadow on her cheerful mood.
She would have given everything she had to be discussing weddings with Nick, as James and Cress were.
'Only wedding around,' said James quietly to her, 'where the bridegroom has publicly made love to the bridesmaid!' Sarah cheered up and hit him, just as Nick returned.
'Stop fighting, children, I've just sorted out a very nice job for you.' he said, sliding into his seat next to Sarah and pouring himself a drink.
'Stop it. Nick,' Sarah chided quickly. 'You'll be legless at this rate!' His eyes were glittering dangerously already. Nick touched her hand to his lips and ignored her comment. Charles flashed a warning glance at him, guessing rightly, that he had had a row with Diana, but Nick took no notice whatsoever. Rows with Diana usually had that effect on him.
They were all ignoring the awards going on round them - and then Nick seemed to sober up as he glanced at his programme. 'Tidy up your make-up, sweetheart,' he said to Sarah. 'Just in case.' Obediently she did so, and started to pay attention. The actor announcing the nominations for best actress was one whose name she knew from her childhood. She stared, fascinated, as the film clips appeared, and for once they were showing her long, impassioned speech to James and not their love scene. Nick reached for her hand as the actor unfastened the envelope.
'And the award goes, for her very first film, to... Sarah Campbell!' Sarah heard the applause around her, and even with the camera on them Nick swept her up to kiss her before pushing her towards the stage. In a daze she struggled through the tables to the stage to collect the gold mask from the actor before being guided to the microphone. 'I'd just like to thank,' she murmured, conscious of having to be brief, 'the cast and crew of Home Leave for being so kind to a newcomer, and especially Nick Grey, my director, for being so patient with me!' That brought the knowing house down, and she escaped back to her seat during the laughter and applause.
James, much to their chagrin, lost out to an American, but Nick swept the board with best director and best film, which Chris collected. He ordered champagne all round to add to Nick^s whisky, and they toasted each other merrily, until the Press dragged them away, anxious to catch their late editions.
'Come on. Nick, give her a kiss,' they cajoled after several photographs. He kissed her cheek. 'No! Come on, a real one!' they persuaded him.
Several drinks the wrong side of sober. Nick lifted Sarah up in his arms and kissed her thoroughly, to the delight of the Press and the amusement of the film people around them. Most of them were well aware of the situation between the couple.
Worried, Sarah then accompanied him on his rounds of the tables, being congratulated and feted all around. But she hadn't missed the triumph on Max Moreton's face. 'You're going to regret that, Nick,' she said, when he paused.
'Stop worrying,' Nick assured her casually. 'We'll go in a minute. I have an incredible urge to make love to you.' Sarah's heart sank. Nick being aggressive was not the way she wanted a triumphant evening to end, and she could read his mood just from the grip of his hand on her arm. But she fetched her wrap when he asked her to, and Nick went to call Bill.
He took her back to Regent's Park despite Sarah's protests, and dismissed Bill with a hefty tip. 'Will you be OK, miss?' Bill asked her quietly. 'He's a bit tiddly. I don't mind waiting for you.'
'I'll be fine.' Sarah tried to sound confident. 'He'll be asleep in a minute,' she added, crossing her fingers.
'Don't bank on it,' he warned, knowing Nick as he did. 'If you need to, ring me. I'll come back for you.'
'Cheer up. Bill.' Sarah could see Nick getting impatient. 'I'll get a taxi if all else fails.'
'What was that about?' Nick demanded as he guided her upstairs to the flat.
'Nothing. Just Bill worrying that you were drunk. Shall I make some coffee?'
'No, I don't want coffee.' He reached for her, pulling her towards him, and Sarah pulled away. He smelt of whisky and her disgust was obvious.
'Nick, go to bed,' she demanded. 'I've changed my mind. I'm going home!'
'Oh, no, you're not!' He seized her by the arms, yanking at the zip of her dress, forcing her to the marble floor of the hall. She fought him with all her strength, kicking and scratching as he struggled to hold her. No way, she decided, was he going to treat her like this, and she twisted frantically until she finally managed to drag herself away from him and pull her dress back on.
The telephone began to ring as she pulled at the zip, and, cursing. Nick got up to answer it. He could never leave an unanswered phone. Seth was on the other end, so there was no way he could slam it down then.
Frantic, Sarah grabbed her bag, and, flinging open the door, she raced down the stairs, struggling with the heavy street door before racing out into the night. Then she realized what a crazy thing she had done. Bill had taken her at her word and gone home.
It was raining, a steady downpour that left her soaked in minutes. She thought, regretfully, of her expensive dress as she struggled to get her bearings, knowing she would have to walk to Baker Street to have any chance of getting a ta
xi at that time of night. Then she realized that in her rush to get out of the flat she had forgotten to put her shoes back on. At least, she knew she had enough money in her bag, but she certainly didn't have Bill's phone number.
Terrified, she suddenly heard footsteps behind her in the empty park, and she froze, aware then of just how vulnerable she was. The next second Nick had caught up with her.
'What the hell are you playing at?' he shouted at her. He had raced after her within seconds of her leaving the flat, and was only wearing shirt and trousers, already soaked.
'I'm going home,' she retorted, trying to push him away again with no effect. He had her firmly by the arm, as she beat at his chest.
'Do you want to get us both arrested, you idiot?' he demanded as she struggled and the strap of her dress tore from its stitches. He ignored her protests and carried her back up to the flat, seemingly sobered up by the cold rain and fresh air.
Dropping her on the bed, he stripped off the dress, properly this time, and eyed it with regret. 'Go and have a shower,' he ordered her. 'You're frozen,' he added and threw the sodden dress on a chair. 'I think that has had it!' Sarah went, wanting to lock the door on him but not daring to provoke him. When she came back into the bedroom he was wearing a bathrobe and towelling his wet hair. Aware of her earlier distaste, he had cleaned his teeth and now seemed amazingly sober.
Smiling sweetly at her surprised face, he pulled the covers back on the bed. 'Get in,' he said. 'You didn't really think I was going to risk my licence driving you home, did you? You're just going to have to put up with me!' He was making no apology for his earlier behaviour, as he had so often done before. This was Nick at his worst, and though she hated it she knew she had no option. Mutinous, she rolled as far away from him as possible, but Nick pulled her back, kissing her set, angry mouth as she twisted her head from side to side, still determined to resist. She lay rigid under him, but it soon became a game as their two strong wills fought for supremacy.
