Timmo whistled as she emerged onto the deck.
Really, Timmo?
‘Cheeky,’ she said, and blew him a kiss.
She spotted Rob talking to a crew member. Rebecca, of the unfeasibly long tanned limbs, waist-length blonde hair and big blue eyes that were currently locked on Rob’s.
Eliza went over to the railings, hoping he’d shake off Rebecca and come join her.
Frankie got there first. ‘Harry’s given me the night off! Did I say I love your dad? We’re on the top deck. We have beanbags and champagne.’
The thought of lying on a beanbag with Rob was most appealing.
‘Be right there.’
She went over and touched his arm. ‘Sorry, excuse me,’ she said to Rebecca. Gosh, she was disappointingly flawless, close up. ‘Rob, I’m going up to the top deck. See you there?’
His eyes searched hers for a moment. ‘Sure. I’ll be up soon.’
As Eliza climbed the stairs, she looked out across the marina to the open sea. A huge full moon had risen; it hung in the sky like a spotlight, its reflection fragmenting into flashes of silver that danced on the water.
The gentle tinkle of ropes on masts blew across on the soft, warm breeze.
It was time for some serious letting off of steam. The five relaxed beneath the night sky, the stress of the week behind them.
Some time later, there was still no sign of Rob. Where is he?
Was this something to do with her harbourside walk with Kit? Rob hadn’t often seen her and Kit together outside of work; he probably didn’t realize that was just how they were.
Tired of waiting, Eliza rolled off her beanbag and moved over to Kit.
‘Is there room for another on your beanbag, Mr Marley?’
He held out an arm and she lay down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder, kicking off her shoes, stretching out her legs.
‘Oh, this is nice. Wow, look at that moon.’
She closed her eyes, and the mix of champagne, relief at a good job done, and Kit’s warm, familiar body, filled her with a deep peace.
‘Eliza!’ hissed Leigh.
She opened her eyes and Leigh raised her eyebrows, nodding in the direction of the stairs. Eliza saw Rob, watching them.
‘Rob!’ she called.
He came over, not taking his eyes from hers. There was no twinkle in them.
Perhaps sharing Kit’s beanbag hadn’t been the most sensible idea.
‘Draw up a beanbag,’ she said.
The others had stopped talking. Tension had chased away the magic.
She forced a smile. ‘Pour yourself a glass of bubbles. We should raise a toast to our success. You did brilliantly. Dad reckons we’ll get what we want, and more.’
‘Does he.’ His tone was flat.
The air was heavy with silence.
‘Well, we all know how important Harry’s opinion is. But to get what you want, you have to know what that is. It’s a shame you don’t.’
She attempted to sit up. ‘But—’
‘I’ll leave you to your –’ his eyes locked with Kit’s – ‘friends.’
He turned abruptly, and headed back towards the stairs.
There was a pause, then Will said, ‘To be wise and love, exceeds man’s might.’
‘Do you want to go after him?’ said Kit.
Did she? She acknowledged the hurt. But there was anger, too, that he could speak to her like that.
‘No. He’s being a douche. He can just . . . ’ She couldn’t say any more. Tears pricked the back of her eyes.
‘Hey,’ said Kit. ‘Don’t stress. He’ll work it out. Forget about him for tonight – get pissed. Party. Live in the moment.’
‘Music,’ announced Will. ‘Frankie, can we sort a speaker?’ He fiddled with his phone.
Frankie made a call and a crew member appeared with a couple of speakers, followed by another with more food and champagne.
A favourite song from their Oxford days came on and Will danced, bottle in hand.
Frankie flicked a few switches on a bulkhead and the deck lights went off. Everything turned silver.
‘Will met by moonlight,’ said Kit.
Eliza chuckled. Kit absently stroked her arm, and she felt herself relaxing again. He was right, she should live in the moment. When would she next get the chance to party on a super-yacht with her best pals? Rob, with his wrong conclusions, could wait.
Hours later, when they finally ran out of steam, Will fell dramatically backwards onto a beanbag, arms akimbo, and Leigh and Frankie joined him on either side, snuggling close under a blanket. ‘To sleep,’ he said, closing his eyes. ‘Perchance to dream . . . ’
Radiohead’s ‘Street Spirit’ was playing, and Eliza was wrapped in Kit’s arms, lost in a swirl of music. Fade out . . . Immerse your soul in love.
The California moon finally slipped below the horizon, its work done, leaving a dome of black sprinkled with stars that faded out where the sky met LA’s orange glow.
When the music stopped, Eliza and Kit curled up on their beanbag together and fell fast asleep.
Chapter 31
Eliza
Timmo woke her a couple of hours later, with coffee. ‘Harry sent me to find you. Says he’s having breakfast if you want to join him.’
Eliza sat up, pushing her hair out of her eyes. ‘Thanks, Timmo.’ His eyes lingered on Kit.
‘He’s not worth your time,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘Never mind.’
Timmo left, and she looked down at Kit, still sleeping peacefully, then across at Leigh, Frankie and Will, curled up together, eyes closed. She smiled. If those powerful Hollywood executives could see them now, like a bunch of exhausted puppies in their baskets.
She took her coffee over to the railings and watched the watery sun climb higher in the pale morning sky. A lone seagull cried mournfully from the top of the mast behind her; joggers were running along the boardwalk far below, gaping at Janette as they passed.
As her brain began functioning properly, she allowed in memories of the night before. A fierce pain hit as she wondered what Rob had been up to. Had he hooked up with Rebecca?
She looked across at Kit, still fast asleep, his face half-hidden behind his mess of hair. The pain eased a little. What would I do without you?
She remembered the look Rob had given him, before he’d flounced off. She was going to have to sort this out. Her relationship with Rob aside, those two would be working closely together, and she couldn’t afford the clash of egos. She needed Rob to understand; she’d have to explain their friendship – again.
She returned to her cabin to shower and change, then went to find Harry. He was by the pool, talking to Timmo, who stood up when he saw Eliza approaching.
‘G’day again, Timmo,’ she said.
‘Not really. You’re all leaving us today.’
‘I’ll miss you, Timmo.’ She touched his arm.
‘Can I get you some breakfast?’
‘Just another coffee?’
‘Coming right up.’ He left.
‘You’re leaving quite a trail of unrequited love,’ said Harry.
‘It’s not me he’s crushing on.’
‘It isn’t?’
‘I make that four people Kit’s managed to hurt this week.’
‘Ah. Two of them being you and Rob?’
She sighed. Harry missed nothing.
‘What’s going on?’ he said. ‘Why didn’t Rob join in your party?’
‘He saw me with Kit and got the wrong end of the stick. Like it’s any of his business.’
‘Ah.’
‘I need him to understand there’s nothing going on.’
‘Nothing at all?’
‘I told you. Why do men have such a problem understanding male–female friendship?’
‘A little disingenuous of you, when the friend is Kit.’
‘Whatever.’
‘Sort it out, Lizzie. Apart from anything else, you nee
d Rob on side for what’s to come – he’s dynamite. It’s him you’ll have to thank when the offers start rolling in.’
Harry was right. Hurt feelings aside, it was important Rob knew his efforts were appreciated.
‘OK, I’ll talk to him. But can I just drink my coffee now? I’ve had, like, one or two hours’ sleep. On a beanbag. My back hurts.’
Harry smiled. ‘I’m glad you had some time out; you’ve got so much hard work ahead of you. Be nice to Rob today. He’s your best ally, he’d do anything for you. Between him and Cecil, I’ll know my girl’s in good hands.’
Back in her room, Eliza started packing her things.
ELIZA: Hi, can we take a walk?
ROB: Why?
ELIZA: only 2 hours sleep don’t ask difficult questions
He didn’t reply for a while.
ROB: c u in 10?
ELIZA: thanks
She had an idea, and rang through to Timmo, who arranged for a car to be waiting. ‘And can you let Harry know? We’ll probably be back around lunchtime.’ Their flight wasn’t until early evening.
‘Have you had breakfast?’ she asked, as they walked down the gangplank.
‘Not hungry,’ said Rob. ‘Surprised you can face food.’ He shoved his hands in his shorts pockets. She couldn’t see the expression in his eyes, behind his Ray-Bans.
‘In fact my alcohol consumption was only moderately excessive last night. I thought we could go to Venice? Get breakfast and walk along the beach?’
‘You’re the boss.’
It wasn’t far to Venice Beach. Already the boardwalk was buzzing with street performers, skateboarders, tourists, artists. Finally Rob began to unwind as he enjoyed the vibe.
She took his arm. ‘Rob . . . you didn’t . . . with Rebecca?’ She looked sideways at him, trying to catch his expression before he responded.
He frowned. ‘What? Of course not.’
‘But . . . she was coming on to you, I didn’t imagine that.’
He shook his head. ‘She wants to get into acting, and obviously thought the casting couch was still a thing. I told her she was letting the side down, that we’ve moved on. I had an early night. By myself. I was knackered.’
Eliza’s relief was profound. She nudged him. ‘She probably wasn’t only after you for your big parts.’
At last he cracked a smile.
They stopped to watch a busker, then bought waffles from a stall and sat on a bench overlooking the beach.
Eliza took a breath. ‘Rob . . . last night. I wanted to be alone with you; to be with you – properly. But— He leaped in. ‘So why were you kissing Kit? I saw you.’
‘I didn’t kiss him. He kissed me. Because . . . we’d had a heart-to-heart. He was saying thanks; it’s just how he is.’
He shook his head, frowning. ‘Tell him to back off.’
‘Rob – I need you to understand. I’m not going to stop hanging out with Kit. We’re very close. But seriously, there’s nothing physical.’
He pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, and she was relieved to have access to his eyes again. They were full of uncertainty.
‘Are you telling me the truth, Lizzie?’
She was touched by the rare glimpse of vulnerability. ‘I am, yes. I promise.’
He looked away from her. ‘He’s so . . . ’
‘I know he is. But it’s you I love, Rob. Very much.’
He kissed her, and the need for more words flew.
‘Sorry,’ he said, when they finally pulled apart. ‘About last night’s hissy fit.’
‘Me too. I should have come after you.’
‘So . . . we’re OK?’
‘Please god let it be so. And now we have a whole morning, just the two of us. No eyes – no work people, no stupid British press, no annoying parents . . . ’
‘And no Kit.’
Chapter 32
Eliza
Over the following weeks, deals were sealed and RoseGold took over an entire floor of The Rose. The funding the team had secured, plus a generous budget approved by the board, meant they could employ well-established industry executives – the best in the business.
Eliza wanted to make Will Head of Drama and Kit Head of Creative, mostly because the titles amused her. But Harry had a quiet word.
‘Nepotism is all well and good, Lizzie, but you really don’t want to be pissing off the underlings. Keep your boys as freelancers. When they’ve proved themselves, then you can bring them onto the staff.’
She dug her heels in over Rob, however, making him RoseGold’s Head of Production. It was the job she’d have chosen for herself, had she not been CEO. She could hardly call him ‘Personal Sidekick’.
And she plucked Chess from the abyss of Admin, giving her a production manager role.
‘Fuck’s sake,’ said Terri, when the new positions were announced.
Casting and location scouting began, and the filming schedule was drawn up.
Eliza, often alone in her office, wished she could be back in the thick of it, rather than presiding from the top floor.
‘It’s a shame, RoseGold’s your baby, but we hardly see you,’ said Chess at their regular lunch.
‘I sometimes hate being stuck up there with only Pippa and Cecil for company. I miss just hanging in The Rack, doing dogsbody jobs but having fun. Being CEO sucks sometimes.’
‘So it’s true about it being lonely at the top.’
‘It is. Everyone treats me differently now, like they think twice about what they say.’
‘That’s only natural. Maybe you should be making more of the upside – all that lovely dosh. And the fact that you’re the new darling of the British media. Honestly, I can’t open a newspaper without seeing your ugly mug staring out at me. Hey, why don’t you buy yourself a fancy new place? You’ve been living in Harry’s London apartment for a while now.’
It was a thought. Somewhere spectacular. Will and Kit had recently moved out. They’d bought a beautifully renovated terraced house in Dalston, and when they weren’t working, were usually carousing in local clubs and bars or hanging out at the Groucho. She missed them.
Perhaps Rob could help her look for somewhere. It would be lovely, once the divorce came through, to kick-start their relationship in a place they’d chosen together.
‘Are you going to Aunt Margot’s funeral next week?’ she said, changing the subject.
Harry’s elder sister had recently died, ‘after a short illness’, the papers had said. ‘Probably from boredom,’ Harry had commented when he asked Eliza to attend the funeral on the family’s behalf.
‘I am, yes,’ said Eliza. ‘Dad doesn’t want to fly home for it. Pretty remiss of him, but they never got on. He’s given me strict instructions to suss out our Scottish cousin’s intentions with regards to her inheritance – as in practically a third of Rose shares.’
‘Yikes,’ said Chess. ‘Let’s hope she’s like her mum and mine. Sit back, do nothing and watch the money roll in.’
‘Fingers crossed,’ said Eliza. ‘So . . . we’ll finally get to meet the mysterious Mackenzie James. Dad says she works in politics. Probably hates the English. Should be an interesting meeting, anyway.’
The weekend before the funeral, Maria came up to London. She’d phoned saying she’d made some decisions and wanted to let Eliza know what those were.
They walked along the embankment as a fierce wind churned the Thames.
‘Phil’s divorcing me.’ Maria’s face was pinched from the cold; she looked ten years older than when she’d been ‘pregnant’.
‘I’m so sorry, Maria.’
‘Don’t be. God has revealed to me Phil’s true self. He’s not the man I thought I married.’
‘I know.’ Eliza linked her arm through her sister’s. ‘You deserve better. You’ll find someone else.’
‘That’s not what I want. From now on I will love only God.’
Eliza felt uneasy. Was Maria intending to return to Rose, to resume her crusade?
Oh!
‘Phil’s selling me his, and I’ll add those to them. I’ll need the income, but I don’t want a role in the company, not any more. This will make your stake more secure, and it will free me to do what I feel God has planned for me. I’m going to do missionary work overseas. I’d like it to be with children.’
A lump formed in Eliza’s throat. ‘That’s a wonderful plan!’
‘I’m aware that I do tend to frighten children, rather, but I’m hoping God will teach me how to overcome that.’
‘She will, I’m sure,’ said Eliza with a grin.
Maria laughed. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ll really miss you.’
It was only the second time Eliza had visited Aunt Margot and Uncle Robbie’s gloomy Scottish castle. As for the first . . . she tried to avoid thinking about that terrible time, when Harry had been shot by Mad Merry, as he insisted on calling his former mistress.
‘Christ Almighty, Henry Rose’s dominant gene didn’t take any prisoners,’ said Uncle Charles, his eyes on Eliza’s Scottish cousin as they gathered in the great hall.
Eliza laughed. It was true. Aunt Megan, Chess and Eliza were all variations on a red-haired theme: pale red and curly, pale red and straight, flaming red and curly . . . and now here was another version. Cousin Mackenzie. Light auburn and wavy, with gold-brown eyes to match. And those other Rose traits, there they were – tall, pale skin, high forehead. She was strikingly attractive, and moved with a grace that drew the eye.
Realising she was the focus of their attention, Mackenzie came over. ‘Eliza, Francesca, Aunt Megan – we meet at last!’ Her Scottish accent was soft and melodic.
‘This is my husband, Charles,’ said Megan. ‘We’re so sorry about your mother, Mackenzie.’
‘Och, don’t be. We didn’t see eye to eye. We hardly saw each other, once I left home. She didn’t seem to care much for her English family, either. All these years and I’ve never met you before. It’s a shame.’ She turned those unusual eyes on Eliza. ‘You and I have a wee bit of catching up to do. And I want to meet Harry. I’ve been a fan for many years.’
Sister to Sister Page 23
