Sister to Sister

by Olivia Hayfield

  ‘Uncle Charles?’ said Eliza.

  ‘I saw him yesterday. I explained the situation. He’ll give you all the help you need. He wants to put things right, too.’

  Eliza was confused. ‘What does Uncle Charles have to do with this?’

  ‘He’ll fill in the gaps for you. It’ll make sense when you talk to him. Terri – I hate loose ends. Ana’s my loose end. And I know how much this means to you.’

  Eliza looked at Terri. ‘You and Mum were pretty close, weren’t you?’

  ‘Eliza, love,’ she said, after a moment. She looked over at Harry, who gave a small nod. ‘I was in love with your mum. She never knew how I felt. I didn’t tell anyone, except for Harry, a long time after she died.’

  Eliza’s mouth dropped open, and a lump formed in her throat as she remembered how Terri had watched over her, from the moment she’d started at Rose.

  ‘That’s so sad, Terri.’

  ‘She was a close friend; it was more than enough. I tried for years to link Sokolov to her murder, but as you know I couldn’t prove anything. If we can do it now, I’m on board. And, as far as I’m concerned, there’s no need for you to die to make that happen, Harry.’

  ‘No. Only if I don’t make it. Otherwise he’ll take us all down with him. Talk to Charles, gather your evidence. Lock it up, don’t put it on any computer. Then write the piece, Terri. Get him put away and tell the world why.’ He leaned back on his pillows, suddenly looking tired.

  ‘My god, Dad. Can we just stop this? You’ve got the best bloody cardiac surgeon in London, right?’

  ‘Eliza, you’ll need to be extremely careful,’ he said, ignoring her distress. ‘Not a word to anyone. Not Rob, no one at the office, certainly not Clare or Eddie.’

  ‘We hear you,’ said Terri. ‘But like Eliza says, this won’t need to happen. You’re going to be just fine, and together we’ll fade gracefully – make that disgracefully – into old age. Right, Harry?’

  ‘Absolutely, my little pit bull. But I have your word. Swear?’

  ‘I tend to, rather a lot.’

  ‘Swear, Terri.’

  ‘Right you are, Harry. Should you pop your clogs, I do fucking swear that I shall bring down Andre Sokolov, and in so doing avenge the death of the love of our lives, and the mother of our beloved Eliza, and so ensure that your delightful soul – yes, I do love you, Harry – can rest in peace for ever more.’

  Eliza burst into tears and left the room.

  Chapter 43

  Eliza

  ‘Tell me about Charles,’ said Terri, as they sat in Eliza’s office. ‘I met him a few times. He seemed like a carbon copy of Harry – quite amusing, but basically a posh twat.’

  Eliza laughed. ‘Yes, they’re like a pair of naughty children when they’re together. Charles is a few years older than Dad. From what I understand, when they were at school, Charles was tasked with making sure Dad was OK when his parents and brother died.’ She stopped for a moment. Imagine losing your mum, dad and brother while you were still a teenager.

  ‘God, Terri. We never really think about our parents’ lives before they had us, do we? Excuse the pop psychology, but . . . maybe Dad’s womanising in those early years was overcompensating for losing his parents?’

  ‘Perhaps. It probably explains why he married so young. But back to Charles?’

  ‘Yes. Dad’s best friend forever, and obviously married to his sister. He was a banker. He’s retired now, just does a bit of consulting. As you know, he was the person who brought Andre on board with the Rose TV investment.’

  ‘Is Charles in London?’

  ‘They live in Suffolk but still have a London flat.’

  ‘Right. Look, Eliza. I know Harry said only if the worst happens, but I want to do this, no matter what. For myself, as well as for him. You OK with that?’

  ‘Yes. Nobody except you, me and Charles needs to know what we’re doing until we’ve worked out a way forward.’

  ‘Good. Can you call Charles and find out where’s best for us to meet?’ She stood up to leave. ‘And, Eliza, love. Try not to worry too much about Harry. It’s no surprise that he did the last-wish thing. Anyone would, facing a heart op. Why don’t you phone a friend, have a night out.’

  ‘I might just do that.’

  ELIZA: You and Will free tonight?

  KIT: Want to come over? Can show you screen tests. We have wine ELIZA: Food?

  KIT: Um . . .

  ELIZA: Will bring something. 7ish?

  KIT: See you then x

  Next, Eliza rang Uncle Charles. As she waited for him to answer, she looked out of her window. Thunderclouds were billowing up over the city. The weather had been hot and sticky, and everyone had been wondering when it would break, in that slightly obsessive British way.

  Charles picked up; he’d been expecting her call, he said. ‘Harry told you about keeping schtum?’

  ‘Loud and clear. Nothing on the computer, etc., etc.’

  ‘Good. Why don’t you and Terri come over to the Bayswater flat tomorrow? About twelve?’

  ‘Perfect. Before I go, can I ask you something?’

  ‘Fire away.’

  ‘Do you still see Andre Sokolov? Like, do you still do any consulting for him?’

  ‘Absolutely not. And let’s leave this discussion until tomorrow. After that, the picture should be clearer for you.’

  ‘Right, yes. See you at twelve, then.’

  Eliza ended the call and turned back to her desk. And realized she wasn’t alone. Her hand flew to her chest. ‘Mac!’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to creep up on you. The door was open.’

  ‘That was Uncle Charles; I was updating him on Dad.’

  ‘How’s Harry doing?’ She sat down opposite Eliza.

  ‘Really well, but he’s having a bypass next week.’

  ‘I expect it’ll take him a while to get over that,’ said Mac. ‘Still, he has a nice choice of places to recuperate, has he not? Superyacht, Caribbean mansion, Richmond mansion . . . ’ She laughed, but Eliza detected something sour in her tone.

  ‘How’s everything with you?’

  ‘Busy busy. Steady stream of orders from Rob.’ She smiled a small smile. ‘I love his daily emails. He’s so funny. You must miss him.’ She held Eliza’s gaze.

  Eliza didn’t return the smile. ‘Of course.’

  ‘I came up to tell you something. Hamish and I are getting married.’

  What?!

  ‘Oh! That’s . . . a surprise.’

  ‘We’ve known each other a while. I should let you know – we won’t be doing the family wedding thing. Hamish hates a fuss.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘Said he’d prefer to abduct me and lock me up in his Scottish castle.’

  Eliza snorted. ‘He’s got one?’

  ‘Two, actually.’

  ‘Gosh, kidnapped and thrown over the back of a horse. That’s quite sexy. Bit of role play on your wedding night?’

  Mac smiled. ‘Och, you’re not all you seem, are you, Eliza? Didn’t you once say you’d stay a virgin all your life?’

  ‘I was a teenager at the time.’

  ‘Like I said, you must be missing Rob.’ She was watching Eliza carefully. ‘I don’t suppose his Instagram posts help.’

  What’s going on here?

  ‘I don’t bother with all that. I don’t have the time.’

  ‘That’s perhaps as well. Still, I guess showbiz is all about image.’

  After she left, Eliza brooded on her cousin. Those insidious remarks, that knowing smile. It was all surely designed to unsettle her. Was Mac working towards some sort of power grab? And if so, was it coming from Mac, or from Hamish?

  Eliza exited the air-conditioned cool of The Rose into a wall of hot, humid air. She pitied those heading home on the tube tonight, as she made her way to Tesco Metro, where she filled her basket with salads, a quiche, a ciabatta loaf, some hummus and a couple of packets of crisps.

  ‘Good grub, Eliza,’
said Will, half an hour later.

  They were sprawled on the long narrow lawn of the old terraced house, their feet bare, the cool of the grass a relief on this muggy summer’s evening. The sweet notes of a blackbird’s song played against the background hum of London traffic, and the musky scent of tobacco plants drifted across from a riotously planted border. To Eliza’s and Kit’s amusement, Will had developed a fondness for gardening.

  ‘What, Will?’ asked Eliza through a mouthful of salad. ‘Is that it? Have you no suitable food quote for this excellent fare I have laid before you?’

  ‘I had rather live with cheese and garlic in a windmill.’

  Kit and Eliza spluttered with laughter.

  ‘Shut up, I’m tired.’ Will tossed his hair. ‘Trying to get everything done before I go. It’s the best I can do.’ He was off to LA in the morning, for the final selection of the male lead on Dark Soul.

  ‘Comedy of Errors?’ guessed Kit, scooping up hummus with a crisp.

  Will sighed dramatically. ‘Metaphor for my life.’

  ‘Nonsense, Will. Your life’s going swimmingly,’ said Eliza. ‘Dark Soul’s going to be phenomenal, thanks to my two best boys.’

  ‘I think I have made an error, actually,’ said Will, opening his laptop. ‘But let’s get your opinion, dear leader.’

  A black actor with liquid eyes appeared on screen. His features were expressive, and before he’d said a single word, the viewer knew this was one tortured soul.

  Then the camera pulled back, revealing the person with the priest, the woman tempting him. Letitia Knowles. Her beauty was incandescent, her blonde glow a sharp contrast to the dark figure gazing at her.

  Will pressed pause. ‘Well?’

  ‘He’s perfect,’ said Eliza. ‘The other two will have to be spectacular to even come close.’

  ‘Agree,’ said Kit. ‘He’s my pick.’

  ‘But?’ said Will. ‘Kit?’

  ‘Let’s see the other two first.’

  They were good, but Eliza had made up her mind – the first one.

  As they watched the third actor, there was Letitia again, drawing the eye.

  Away from the priest.

  And therein lay the problem. You couldn’t help but look at her.

  ‘She’s too much,’ said Eliza.

  ‘She detracts from the priest,’ said Kit. ‘We need a more low-key temptress. Beautiful, alluring, but quietly so.’

  ‘Letitia was Rob’s choice,’ said Will.

  Kit met Eliza’s eye.

  ‘Though Leigh was keen, too,’ Will continued. ‘But Leigh’s an economist, let’s remember.’

  ‘And Rob’s basically a salesman,’ said Kit.

  ‘Bitch,’ said Will.

  Eliza laughed, but realized this situation had the potential to be a real headache. She was going to have to play it carefully.

  ‘So we’re agreed, we like actor number one, but it doesn’t work with Letitia Knowles.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Will.

  ‘So when you get to LA, can you impart this without implicating me in your decision? So as I don’t look like a jealous girlfriend wanting to banish the pretty girl to somewhere far, far away from her boyfriend?’

  ‘I can try. Though he’ll know you’ve seen the screen tests.’

  ‘I have every faith in you,’ said Eliza.

  ‘Neatly done,’ said Kit, raising his glass to Eliza.

  A sudden cool breeze dipped into the garden and grabbed an empty crisp packet, flipping it up and across the lawn. Will retrieved it, looking up at the sky. In the gathering dusk, menacing rainclouds reflected the sickly glow of the city lights, and from the east there came a rumble of thunder.

  ‘By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes,’ said Will. ‘I shall get me to bed. Early start tomorrow.’

  ‘Good luck, Will,’ said Eliza, holding out a hand to him.

  He took it and squeezed it. ‘Once more unto the breach. I sense a creative versus commercial spat about to hit, in the manner of this gathering storm. Don’t you just love it when weather foreshadows plot?’

  As Will went inside, Kit lit a cigarette and rested back on his elbows. The evening light was tinged an unsettling yellow, and shadows were creeping across the lawn towards them. Thunder rolled again in the distance.

  ‘Is Rob giving you a hard time over the script?’ he said.

  ‘We had words, yes. He wants to get a local writer to tone it down, so as not to offend US religious sensibilities. I told him that was kind of the point.’

  He was quiet for a moment. ‘Will’s the director. We’ll just have to hope he stays strong. Rob’s a good bloke, but—’

  ‘He doesn’t get it? Will you talk to him about it, or wait and see?’

  He dragged on his cigarette. ‘I may have to wade in at some point. Or I could just stab him.’

  Eliza laughed. ‘Oh god. Maybe I’ll have another go; I don’t want a civil war.’

  A fork of lightning ripped across the sky.

  ‘Leave him to Will. I promise not to kill your boyfriend. Yet.’

  ‘He says I let my relationship with you cloud my judgement.’

  ‘He’s an alpha male, remember. People like me confuse him.’

  ‘You confuse everyone, Kit.’

  ‘Come here, let’s watch the storm.’

  She lay down next to him and they stared up at the sky as night fell, watching the lightning fork and flash, growing more intense, illuminating the cauliflower clouds overhead.

  The air sizzled with electricity, and Kit took her hand. A burst of energy zipped along her arm, spreading through her body.

  She turned her head and looked at him. ‘That was weird.’

  He chuckled. ‘Shocking.’

  He met her gaze, his eyes inches from hers. ‘What’s coming, you’ll be OK.’

  There was another bright flash and a clap of thunder, and Eliza flinched.

  ‘What do you mean, what’s coming? Don’t you dare go all prophet of doom on me again.’

  ‘Maybe this time it’s simple human intuition.’

  Overweight raindrops began to fall, shockingly cold against her warm skin. They sat up and, for a while, didn’t move, as the rain released the most divine earthy scent from the parched soil.

  Eliza breathed deeply, closing her eyes. ‘Oh, that smell . . . ’

  ‘Petrichor,’ said Kit. ‘Named for the fluid that runs in the veins of the Greek gods.’

  ‘So fleeting, like a moment of truth.’ She opened her eyes again.

  Another flash lit up his face.

  ‘You look like a Greek god,’ she said, smiling and nudging him with her foot.

  The rain increased in intensity, and Kit pulled her to her feet. ‘Time’s up, Artemis.’

  ‘Which one’s that?’

  ‘Look her up.’

  Chapter 44

  Eliza

  Cecil poked his head around Eliza’s door. ‘Have you got a minute?’

  ‘Of course. Coffee?’

  ‘I’m fine, thanks.’

  Eliza smiled to herself as he sat down. Cecil had a precise order of doing things. Hitch up his well-tailored trousers, sit down, cross one leg over the other. A few moments looking out of the window while he considered his words, before turning that steady gaze on Eliza. A little chin stroke.

  ‘Before Harry was taken ill, he asked me to keep an eye on things in the US.’

  ‘Oh. By things, you mean Rob?’ This wasn’t a surprise.

  ‘Indeed. Between you and me, Harry can be a little . . . overprotective, perhaps.’

  Eliza swallowed. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to know what he’d found out. ‘Sometimes I wish he wouldn’t interfere.’

  ‘Rob’s been seen out and about with your latest leading lady,’ he said, not meeting her eye. ‘But I have no reason to believe he’s been . . . disloyal.’ He met her gaze again. ‘Having said that, if you were my daughter, I’d be giving Rob a good talking to.’

&nbs
p; Eliza smiled and let out a breath. No reason to believe . . .

  ‘It’s OK, Cecil. I know the score. Hollywood’s all about making things up.’

  ‘Perhaps. But what concerns me more, Eliza, is something unexpected that came up.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Mackenzie James has been spying on him too.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We need to address this. My guess is she’s identified Rob as your weak spot, and will be attempting to use that to her advantage. To knock you off balance, perhaps. She’s in daily contact with him herself, and I’m not happy with the . . . conspiratorial tone of her emails.’

  Eliza felt the ground shifting beneath her feet.

  ‘I have to ask – how have you been reading her emails?’

  ‘One has ways.’

  ‘Sometimes you sound just like Dad.’

  ‘Can I speak frankly, Eliza?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Rob’s a tremendous asset to Rose. But I feel he’s allowed himself to, shall we say, lose focus . . . ’

  ‘You don’t really like him, do you?’ She’d suspected this for a while. Cecil wasn’t easy to read, but there was always a slight pursing of the lips when Rob’s name was mentioned.

  ‘That’s not important.’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘Very well. Of course, he’s a brilliant executive. But I’m not sure Head of Production was a good fit for him.’

  ‘You think I gave him the job only because he’s my partner? Come on, Cecil. You know me better than that.’

  ‘I get the impression he’s very ambitious. More so than you’d guess from his demeanour.’

  ‘You think?’

  John Studley had said Rob was ambitious, too. In spite of his words to the contrary, was Rob in fact driven by a desire to please his father?

  ‘You can’t think he’s with me just because of my position?’

  ‘No, no, not at all. But I do wonder . . . sorry, Eliza. But the intel from Hollywood is that he was rather messing that actress about. Using her, perhaps?’