‘Using her for what?’
‘You’d know better than I. It might be an idea to bring him home. Leigh Walters is very capable, perhaps with . . . Eliza, how would you feel about sending Mackenzie to the US? She’s talented, tough, bright; she’s got broad management experience . . . but, most importantly, she’d be out of your hair.’
‘Oh!’ Now, this was an idea. Banished from the castle but not from the kingdom. Given her own realm.
‘Let me give it some thought, Cecil. And thank you for your . . . insight. As always, it’s much appreciated.’
‘You’re welcome. And please send my regards to Harry when you next see him. Tell him I’ve got your back.’
‘You most certainly have. Did I tell you I love you, Cecil?’ She gave him a wink.
He gave an embarrassed cough, and left.
‘Right, ladies,’ said Charles to Terri and Eliza, as they sat in the sunny living room of the Bayswater flat. Eliza had parked herself in the window seat, which looked out over a leafy London square.
‘First up, while I’m happy to pass on everything Harry wants me to, he did say all this was in the event of . . . well, that thing that isn’t going to happen.’
‘Yes, Uncle Charles. But if you’re OK with this, Terri and I have our own reasons for wanting to move forward.’
‘You want to do it now, for Ana. That’s understandable. It does seem wrong that . . . no one’s ever been held accountable for her death. She was a remarkable woman, taken way before her time.’
‘The best,’ said Terri. ‘Brilliant businesswoman, superb designer, great mum. Her only mistake was falling for bloody Harry.’
‘I wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t,’ said Eliza. ‘And Dad did love her very much.’
‘Until he didn’t,’ said Terri. ‘That was one fucked-up relationship.’
Charles frowned, his eyes flicking to Eliza. ‘Steady on, Terri. They had many good years.’
‘And then he started screwing his secretary. He just couldn’t help himself, could he?’
‘Shall we move on to the reason you’re here?’ said Charles.
‘Yeah. Sorry. As you can tell, I still get angry. Spill those beans, Charles.’
‘Right. As you know, Andre was the major investor in Rose’s football TV channel, back in the late nineties. I’m afraid that to get Andre on board, Harry and I had to dance to his tune. It left something of a bad taste in the mouth. A good proportion of his wealth was from dubious sources, but the world of banking rarely asked questions back then.’
‘What’s changed?’ said Terri.
‘Regulations. Things are tighter, Terri.’
‘Yeah, right.’
‘And therein lay the problem,’ said Charles. ‘After the 2008 crisis, the bank’s position with regard to Andre’s investments was shaky. Our handling of his finances was investigated. The authorities were looking for evidence of money laundering and any dodgy revenue streams. Andre saw it coming, and made a pre-emptive move. It was only then that Harry and I realized – Ana’s death had been all about giving Andre leverage, a hold over us, as much as it was about saving his investment in the football channel.’
‘I see,’ said Eliza. ‘What was the problem with the investment?’
‘Ana had a pit bull of a divorce lawyer. They were going to take Harry to the cleaners. Had she succeeded, he wouldn’t have had the funds to get the football channel off the ground, even with Andre’s investment. In fact, Harry would have been severely overextended, may even have lost his share of Rose.’
‘Are you saying Andre killed my mum because he wanted a football TV channel?’
‘It was all about power, Eliza. Everything’s about power, in the end. When the banking investigation came, he made it clear that if any incriminating financial dealings came to light, he’d claim Harry had asked him to organize Ana’s murder. He couldn’t prove it, but the threat was enough to shut down any thoughts of retribution on Harry’s part. So I quietly covered up each and every piece of evidence of Sokolov’s financial misdeeds, including his links to Russian organized crime. He got away with it all. Everything.’
‘Holy fuck,’ said Terri. ‘No wonder Harry wouldn’t let me near Sokolov.’
‘Thing is, nothing’s changed. He’s still got that leverage. I do have incriminating evidence with regards to his finances, and I can quietly gather that together, but I don’t have anything to link him to Ana’s death. All we have is Harry’s word, which . . . Well, if the worse came to the worse, you could make public via The Rack, prompting a police investigation. However, that’s not going to happen, Eliza.’
Eliza swallowed. ‘No.’
CHESS: Hello! Sorry haven’t been in touch, been away. Free for lunch?
ELIZA: Yes! In dire need of heart to heart xx
‘Mum kept me up to date while we were away,’ said Chess, as they started on their salads. ‘She told me about Harry’s drug addiction, before he married Clare. I was pretty shocked. She’s worried it might have done long-term harm, maybe damaged his heart.’
‘The more I find out about Dad’s life, the more I admire his ability to bounce back. I’m counting on that happening again. How was your trip?’
Chess and Gil had been on holiday to California, and had stayed a few days with Rob.
‘Great! Loved San Francisco. Rob gave us a good time in LA. We saw Leigh, too. Rob asked if I could be based there some of the time, but I talked him round – no need, really. Mac and I are mostly sorting out the UK crews and locations at the moment. Also I don’t want to spend time away from Gil. I don’t know how you manage, being apart from Rob like this.’
Her cousin’s words unleashed a wave of despondency. ‘I miss him so much. How is he?’
‘Bouncy as ever. Fits right in over there.’
‘So I hear. Will’s there now.’ Eliza paused. ‘Rob might be a little less bouncy when he puts his directorial foot down.’
‘About what?’ said Chess.
‘More who than what. Actually, I’d like your thoughts.’
‘Oh?’
‘The thing is, Chess,’ Eliza said, considering her words. ‘We were all new to this business when we started out. We have an incredible core team, but I think we should have made the roles clearer from the get-go.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘I set up RoseGold with the goal of producing quality original content. That means the best creative minds get unleashed and the production side of things supports that.’
‘Ah, I see where you’re going with this,’ said Chess. ‘Rob said something about adapting Dark Soul to make it palatable for a wider audience?’
‘Yep. And he and Leigh have been deciding on the cast without okaying it with Will and Kit. Not the lead role – they waited on our input for that. But other major roles. Well, role.’
Chess unfolded her napkin and smoothed it in her lap, eyes down. ‘Letitia Knowles?’
‘Did you meet her?’
‘Yes. A couple of times.’
‘And?’
Chess met Eliza’s gaze. ‘I was . . . surprised when she came out to dinner with us. Leigh came too, and a couple of others from the office.’
Eliza put down her fork, feeling suddenly nauseous. ‘Chess – how do you think Rob would respond to being told she’d lost the part?’
‘Really? Why?’
‘I watched the male lead screen tests with Will and Kit. She was in them. We all agreed – great actress, but not right for the part.’
‘Holy heck. That’s not going to go down well with Rob at all.’
‘Because?’
‘Well, because . . . ’
‘Don’t directors change their minds all the time while casting’s ongoing?’
‘Maybe, but . . . ’ Chess looked out of the window.
Was Cecil’s intel correct? No reason to believe he’s been disloyal . . .
‘Chess. Rob wouldn’t be stupid enough to carry on with someone else in front of you and Gil, would
he? Unless he somehow wanted that knowledge to get back to me?’
‘No, he didn’t. Doesn’t. I mean—’
‘Please. Just tell me?’
Chess sighed. ‘He told Gil. Perhaps he doesn’t realize we don’t have secrets from each other. He’s been seeing Letitia outside of work. I don’t know how far it’s gone. He told Gil it had nothing to do with you and him, it was just a . . . he actually used the word “distraction”, can you believe?’
Eliza breathed in sharply as the hurt hit.
‘Dad warned me. He said Rob’s just like he was.’
‘Rob’s mad about you, Eliza. Always has been. That’s why I can’t understand.’
‘Do you think he’s having an affair?’
‘I won’t lie to you; I think he might be. She’s incredibly beautiful – it’d take a strong man to resist. Rob’s lovely, but we both know he acts first, thinks later. Eliza, what will you do? Confront him? You and him – it’s worth saving.’
‘Seriously, Chess?’ The hurt gave way to anger. ‘You’d carry on seeing someone who’s going on dates with a beautiful actress just as a distraction? How could I ever trust him again?’ She looked down in embarrassment, realising her voice had risen.
‘He told Gil he proposed to you,’ said Chess, ‘and you turned him down. Maybe it’s something to do with that?’
‘You think a ring on my finger would change his behaviour?’
‘A commitment; an assurance that he’s the one? It might. I think he’s never been quite sure of your feelings for him.’
‘He’s betrayed me, whatever the reason.’
‘It’s you he loves, Eliza. Maybe it’s just the whole Hollywood thing, the way people are there. I know that’s no excuse, but . . . you two are so right together. God, he’s an idiot. I want to slap him.’
Eliza’s patience ran out. ‘You know what? I can’t be bothered with it right now. I’ve got Dad’s op to worry about. I need to focus on the person who really matters.’
‘Good plan.’ Chess put her hand over Eliza’s. ‘Harry’s going to be fine. And things will work out with Rob, I’m sure of it.’
That evening, Eliza and Kit had an email from Will.
Played through the videos with Rob. Talked him through our reasons. Happy (if surprised) to report he saw our point of view. Letitia’s out, calling back others for that role :)
Eliza was surprised, too, but relieved. Letitia was gone. But was still somewhere close to Rob, presumably. Somewhere a lot closer than London. Banished from the castle but not the kingdom. Seems to be a theme.
She felt flat as she ate her lonely dinner, half-watching something on Netflix. She’d mulled things over all afternoon. Rob had betrayed her. The thought of him with Letitia, whatever his motivation, made her feel sick. Then furious. She would happily have encouraged Kit to progress his stabbing plan.
But now the anger gave way to a deep sadness. A realisation that she and Rob were just like any other couple battling the temptations that came their way. How many men, thousands of miles away from their girlfriend for months at a time, could have resisted Letitia Knowles?
At least the Rob revelations had provided a diversion from her worries about Harry’s operation. It was scheduled for mid-morning tomorrow. She wanted to see him before the op, but was dreading it. Was he going to do the whole ‘third brush with death’ thing again? Was he going to do ‘last words’, just in case? How could she face that?
Chapter 45
Eliza
‘The porter will be here shortly,’ said the nurse, smiling kindly. ‘I’ll leave you alone until he gets here.’
‘I feel a few profound words are expected,’ said Harry, ‘but I seem to be stuck in cliché-land. How much I love you, how you’re all so bloody perfect. How I messed up time and again, but you’ve tried to understand me.’
Eliza swallowed. Be brave, Kit’s message had said that morning.
‘You do realize, the mortality rate for heart surgery is less than three per cent?’ she replied. ‘I googled it. This time tomorrow you’ll be sitting up laughing at your clichés.’ She was surprised the words made it past the lump in her throat.
‘Probably not the sitting up part,’ said Clare. ‘But this time next week you’ll be home, Harry. Focus on that. Think about what you’d like me to cook you. Think about walking in the park. You love summer days in the park . . . ’ She choked on the words, and her eyes filled with tears. So did Eliza’s.
‘Eddie. Keep these two supplied with tea and tissues while I’m in theatre, there’s a good chap.’
‘Dad, is now a good time to tell you I want to go into medicine?’ blurted Eddie.
‘Eddie!’ said Eliza, jerked out of her misery.
‘What did you say?’ said Harry, frowning at his son.
‘I . . . I’m not cut out for business, Dad. I want to—’ He was clearly already regretting his words.
‘Not now, Eddie,’ said Eliza gently.
Harry looked at Eliza, then back at Eddie.
But then he smiled. ‘Couldn’t be prouder, Son. Rose’s future is already in the safest of hands. Male heirs are so last century. Go save lives, live the life you want.’
Eliza and Clare gave up trying to stop their tears as Eddie hugged his father.
‘Eliza . . . the thing, for Ana,’ he said over Eddie’s shoulder.
‘I promise. But you’re going to be—’
‘I’ll do my best. Give me a hug.’
Her tears soaked his stupid green gown. She felt his warmth, his energy, his strength; breathed them in as he held her tight.
The porter arrived, and she smiled through her tears as Harry was wheeled away.
Eliza pondered on time as they sat in the waiting room. This time tomorrow . . . this time next week. Next year. She’d be looking back, remembering how she felt now, in this moment.
Cheerful nurses kept reminding her: Don’t worry, standard procedure, best hands . . .
But she couldn’t stop the dread. The feeling there was something waiting in the wings. Something her father had been aware of.
His premonitions; Kit’s words: What’s coming. You’ll be OK. His text this morning: Be brave. Was she reading too much into it? And what was it with all these premonitions and voices of doom, anyway? She believed in science, didn’t she? It was surely just the mind doing its thing, anticipating the worst. Time was linear; these hours would pass. It didn’t run in circles, do unexpected things, like Kit had said. It was constant, measurable, reliable. And Fate wasn’t a thing; it was a concept invented by humankind needing ways to understand their existence, their purpose. It was mere superstition. So was karma.
An hour passed, then another, and another. Eliza, Clare and Eddie came and went from the cafe, drinking cup after cup of tea and coffee (decaf – they were jittery enough), picking at food they had no appetite for. But the chocolate bars helped.
Another hour, and then another. The three of them carried on, somehow, getting through the minutes.
Harry
He looked down at the empty body below. At the husk of Harry. The surgeon was bent over the gaping hole in his chest, working steadily to mend his broken heart. Like the others in the room, the surgeon was unaware that time had stopped.
The walls and ceiling of the operating theatre had dissolved, and beyond was a void, neither light nor dark. On the edge of Harry’s consciousness, present in the room and yet not, shadowy figures muttered, deciding his fate.
Four ghosts – beautiful, diaphanous, feminine bundles of energy – hovered, watching.
Eliza
At last, the surgeon appeared. They tried to read his expression as he closed the waiting room door behind him. Was that a smile? No, not a smile. Was his face relaxed? Would yours be after performing a complicated hours’-long operation?
‘Mrs Rose, Eliza, Eddie. There’s good news and not such good news.’
Eliza only heard ‘good’. He wouldn’t say that if Dad was in danger.
&nbs
p; ‘Please, give us the facts,’ said Clare, calmly.
‘The operation was a success. More complicated than expected, but no hiccups.’
‘Thank god.’
‘But he hasn’t come round. We’d have expected him to by now.’
‘How long is it since you finished the operation?’ asked Clare.
‘Almost two hours. It always takes longer after an op like this one, and he’s on a lot of medication, obviously. But even so, this is not what we’d expect.’
‘Can we see him?’
‘Of course.’
They followed the surgeon to the ICU. Harry looked as he had before – like a shell; full of tubes, surrounded by machines that beeped and flashed numbers. Clare read them, understanding. Eliza had no clue.
They talked to him, touched his hands, his face; stroked his hair. Time passed – an hour, then two. Harry remained motionless, in a deep sleep.
Doctors and nurses came and went, shining torches into his eyes, checking tubes, drips and monitors, speaking reassuring words.
Outside, night fell. The nurses advised going home – they’d call as soon as Harry woke up. But they stayed, dozing in their chairs, talking to each other, and to Harry.
Midnight came and went, then two a.m., four a.m., six a.m., and then the sun was rising.
The surgeon returned.
Eddie stood up. ‘Is my father in a coma?’
Clare gasped.
‘We believe not. But if he doesn’t wake up in the next hour or two we’ll do some tests. You should go home, get some rest. We’ll be in touch the minute he comes round.’
‘We should, Mum,’ said Eddie. ‘We’ll be useless if we don’t get some sleep.’
So they returned to Richmond, and Eliza lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, willing Harry to wake up, willing Clare’s phone to ring.
It did, a few hours later, but it was to report the results of the tests. They could find no reason why Harry wasn’t waking up. Brain scans were fine; everything was fine. It was inexplicable. They were monitoring him closely, making sure he was breathing properly, administering all the fluids he needed. All they could do was wait.
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