by Lynn Forth
She used to think she was a fairly grounded, sensible person, but clearly she wasn’t as level-headed as she’d imagined. How susceptible did a change of location make her? Did a strange place somehow affect her emotional stability?
She was so engrossed in these thoughts that their approach to San Francisco took her by surprise. As Jack leant across her to point out the famous landmarks, her body once again responded to his touch. She saw a flare deep in his dark eyes as he squeezed her hand. Embarrassed by her sudden intense flush and wildly beating pulse, she tried, in vain, to look away.
For a moment, the world stilled as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Then the plane dipped its wings in a long slow curve as it began its unhurried descent.
Below them was the distinctive red outline of the Golden Gate Bridge, and the island of Alcatraz on its small rocky outcrop, tantalisingly close to the city yet separated by such a treacherous stretch of shining blue water.
As Jane stepped off the plane, she noticed the air was fresher and cooler. The sky was still impossibly clear and blue, and for a brief homesick moment, she longed for clouds – big fluffy ones, towering up into the heavens in all sorts of whimsical shapes.
They were met by a uniformed concierge who whisked away their luggage. Jane wished her small case didn’t look quite so battered. She really didn’t have the clothes or labels to complement the private jet lifestyle. But Jack didn’t seem to notice, and took her hand.
She glowed at his touch as he guided her through a bright, high-ceilinged lounge with rows of massage chairs and signs to work-out rooms and saunas. Jane had never seen an airport like this one and stared wide-eyed as a smiling Jack waved away smart, mini-skirted girls offering them glasses of champagne and – to Jane’s astonishment – huge tubs of popcorn and cookies. Within minutes, the concierge had ushered them to their waiting chauffeur-driven limousine, and they were sitting side by side in its cool leather interior. Jane couldn’t believe it was that simple. No queues, no security, no checking of documentation.
She glanced sideways at Jack. This was the lifestyle to which he was obviously accustomed, and worlds away from her own scruffy, hanging-around, low-budget travelling experience. It was wonderful, of course, but reinforced her uneasy feeling of the gulf between them and her lack of expertise in this upmarket environment. As the phrase ‘fish out of water’ floated through her mind, she realised with a jolt that she hadn’t seen a drop of rain since she left England.
‘It’s not far to the hospital,’ Jack said, as if noticing her thoughtful silence, ‘so you won’t see much of ‘Frisco, especially the famous downtown area near the bay. But you might get a bit of an idea of what it’s like.’
Jane nodded. Looking through the dark-tinted windows, she got an impression of a hilly city with neat, pale-coloured, wooden-clad buildings and yellow, clanging trams.
Then they were at the hospital, gleaming white in the bright sunshine. Standing at the porticoed entrance was a petite, anxious brunette, searching eagerly for their arrival.
Barely waiting for the car to stop, Jane flung herself across the tarmac and into the outstretched arms of her youngest sister.
‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ Milly sobbed with relief, standing on her tiptoes to hug the taller Jane.
Wordlessly, Jane just hugged her tight, trying to convey her love and support while Milly gave vent to all her fears, sobbing into her sister’s shoulder.
Eventually, Milly could cry no more, and frantically delved into her pocket for tissues.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ asked Jane gently, mopping her own eyes, while Milly composed herself a little.
‘I couldn’t spoil your big chance in Hollywood, and besides, there was nothing you could do.’
‘Yes, there was. I could do this.’ Jane once again hugged her little sister close. Gently, she asked the question uppermost in her mind, ‘So, how is Charlie?’
‘They’re operating now. They have allowed Dad to watch from the gallery, but I just couldn’t.’ Milly broke down again. ‘Oh Jane, he looked so small and frail on the trolley as they wheeled him in. He didn’t really know where he was. They’ve kept him sedated throughout the flight, to conserve all his energies for the…’
She slumped again, unable to put into words what was happening to her little boy.
Once again, Jane held her tightly, uttering soothing words; she knew her sister needed this release for her pent-up anxieties. Thank goodness, she could finally help by providing some support.
She suddenly realised that Jack had moved a discreet distance away, probably not wanting to intrude. But as her sister’s emotions abated, Jane disengaged a little and beckoned to him.
She said softly, ‘Milly, there’s someone I want you to meet. He’s been so wonderful so many times, and not least because he flew me here to be with you.’
Milly looked up, dark eyes full of tears but a smile hovering on her lips.
‘Oh, you must be Scott…’ But she frowned in confusion as the tall, handsome stranger obviously looked nothing like the image of Scott on the screen.
‘Although, you don’t look like Scott at all,’ she added.
Jack smiled, a little surprised, but Jane was aghast. ‘Oh no, Milly, you’ve got hold of the wrong end of the stick.’
‘But Mum said you were staying with Scott Flynn. We thought she must have got it wrong, but she was certain that’s what you had said.’
‘Oh, actually she’s right, I was. But…well, it’s complicated. I moved out.’
‘You mean you really were actually staying with Scott Flynn, the movie star.’ Milly’s eyes rounded with wonder.
‘Yes, but…he’s a jerk.’ Jane shrugged. ‘Trust me, Milly. Don’t believe anything you see on the screen.’ She turned and flashed an abashed smile at Jack. ‘Whereas, believe everything you see in Jack here. He’s my true knight in shining armour. The number of times he has saved me…in all sorts of ways, from maidenly knicker emergencies to fighting off nasty, lustful dragons.’
Face beaming with gratitude, she carried on, ‘Right, formal introduction time. Jack, this is my sister Milly…um…Amelia; and Milly, this is Jack Clancy, my…um…’ She stopped embarrassed, red-faced. How should she describe him? Her boyfriend? Her friend?
With any luck, her soon-to-belover?
Jack seemed to enjoy her discomfiture, and just grinned at Milly as he bent to shake her hand.
‘Hi Milly. Lovely to meet you at last, even in these circumstances. I’ve heard a lot about you…and all good.’
Milly gazed up into his dark brown eyes, obviously thinking he was another movie star.
‘Have I seen you in anything? Any films?’ she asked, looking puzzled.
Jack shook his head and chuckled, ‘Not if I can help it.’
‘No, Milly,’ Jane patiently explained. ‘Jack’s a writer.’
‘Like you?’
‘Well, actually, better than me.’
Jack gasped. ‘How can you say that, Miss Proper Novel Writer? No, Milly, all I do is take original stuff like your sister’s, change everything that’s good in it, and hash it around a bit for the screen. Isn’t that so, Jane?’
She blushed. Had she really believed that once? How patronising she must have seemed. No wonder he had bridled when they first met.
‘Oh sorry, Jack. I must have seemed a right prig to you.’
Chortling, Jack swept an embarrassed Jane into his arms and planted a firm kiss on her willing mouth.
Which told Milly all she needed to know about who he was.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw a tall, sandy-haired, older man hurrying towards them. Something about the man looked vaguely familiar. Of course, he must be Jane’s father.
The two sisters turned anxiously to greet him, and Jane was seized in a bear-like embrace.
‘Hallo, Janey girl. It’s so good to see you…and looking so well.’
It was true. Jack noticed that the fake tan had faded to a soft glow. He
could see that both her father and Milly were looking at her as if they had never seen her looking so good.
Impatiently, Jane swatted the compliment aside. ‘Dad, never mind that. How’s Charlie? How did the operation go?’
‘Very well. Very well indeed.’ The tall man stooped a little with fatigue. ‘He’s in intensive care, and we won’t know if he’s really out of the woods for a while, but the surgeon said it couldn’t have gone better. Our Charlie is a proper little fighter, Milly. The next twelve hours are crucial but… he’s hoping for the best.’
Milly flung her arms round her father’s neck, eyes bright with tears of hope.
‘Right, Milly girl,’ he said gently, ‘they’ve said you can go and see him, but remember he will look a little bashed about and wired up, so don’t upset yourself about—’
But Milly had gone.
Robert Jones watched his youngest daughter go, envying her speed. He was feeling every one of his sixty-eight years. The long stressful flight, the transfer to the hospital, the gruelling five hours watching the operation on his youngest grandson, had all taken its toll. With Milly no longer there relying on his strength and confidence, he could finally let down his defences a little.
Suddenly he felt weak, and staggered a little, but his arm was taken by a strong, dark-haired, young man, who led him over to a nearby bench. The good-looking man sat on one side of him, bracing him up, while his lovely daughter sat on the other side, face full of concern, holding his hand.
‘Sorry about that, Janey girl. I don’t know what came over me.’
‘I think it’s called exhaustion, sir,’ the handsome stranger said.
‘Yes, young man, you could well be right. Thank you for your help there.’
‘Oh Dad, you’ve overdone it again. You must look after yourself, you know.’
‘Nonsense. It’s my job to look after all of you. Always has been, always will be,’ he said simply, summing up his whole philosophy of life.
Jack warmed instantly to this man. He exuded integrity and dignity, and was obviously the source of Jane’s inbuilt principles and honesty.
‘Perhaps you would like a cup of coffee, sir.’ Jack rose to give them some time alone.
‘That is very kind of you, young man, but you really mustn’t trouble yourself. I’m fine now.’
‘Dad, I must introduce you to this young man.’ Jack saw Jane smile as she realised that her father thought he was just a kindly passer-by.
But then, perhaps catching the look that passed between them, her father said, ‘Oh, of course. Is this your young man from Hollywood…um…Scott, is it?’
‘No, Dad, it’s not Scott,’ said Jane patiently.
Jack grinned as he shook Robert’s hand. ‘Jack Clancy. Nice to meet you, sir. I’ll go and get that cup of coffee, shall I?’ And he dashed off, leaving Jane to do the explaining.
When he returned a few minutes later with a tray of three cups of steaming, reviving drinks, he was greeted by a warm smile from the older man. Obviously, whatever Jane had told him, seemed to be to his liking. For some reason, Jack found this man’s approval mattered.
Jane quickly caught up with all the family news, but deflected her father’s enquiries into her own Hollywood adventures, knowing he was too preoccupied with Charlie’s current situation to take anything in. Besides, she felt totally inhibited by Jack’s presence. How would she explain him?
So, she decided to save a more detailed account till later…much later. And for the next few hours, she concentrated on the task in hand of supporting the two exhausted members of her family.
As the long day wore on, she became aware that despite all her entreaties, nothing would persuade Milly or her father to leave the hospital during these first critical hours. Only one visitor at a time was allowed at the bedside, and Jane was eventually persuaded that during this crucial period she was superfluous. Her father sent her away with assurances that she could do nothing at the moment, but promised he would call her if they needed her help.
All this time, she was aware of Jack staying sensitively in the background, providing coffee for the family when needed, and the odd hug for her when she felt low. She had suggested he could leave, thinking it wasn’t really fair to keep him hanging around. But knowing he wouldn’t go without her, she eventually – and reluctantly – agreed to leave. However, she insisted she would return later to take a turn of the bedside vigil, so that her sister and father could catch up with some much-needed sleep in the visitors’ rooms nearby.
After yet more hugs, Jane left her father looking frail but resolute. He gave her a wave before heading wearily back into the hospital.
His lone but determined figure squeezed Jane’s heart, and she struggled to conceal her unbidden tears from Jack. He put his arm supportively round her waist and turned discreetly away to wave to their waiting limousine.
As they drove to their nearby hotel, Jack distracted her by explaining that he had booked it for its proximity to the hospital, so warned that it wasn’t quite as luxurious as he would have wished for her. He then lapsed into silence, allowing her time to compose herself and come to terms with all the emotions aroused by the contact with her family.
After a short ride, they arrived at the shady, canopied entrance of their hotel. To Jane, it looked expensive but not ostentatious. She rather liked its discreet elegance.
Smart attendants stepped briskly forward to open their car door, and Jane’s little battered suitcase was once again whisked away. While Jack checked in, Jane took in the cool, marble-floored foyer. Dark colonial-style furniture was arranged invitingly in small groups around small coffee tables, on which stood huge, opulent bouquets of white lilies, exuding their distinctive fragrance into the cool air. A sparkling chandelier hung low from a high, arched celling.
Jane shook her head as a dark-suited, smiling girl advanced towards her bearing a tray of snacks and slender glasses of sparkling drinks.
‘What is it with all this champagne? It’s not even three o’clock and I could be sozzled already at this rate. And if this isn’t luxurious, I’d like to know what is,’ she muttered to herself, gazing around at the gleaming atrium.
Another pretty uniformed girl escorted them to the lift, and joined them to operate the buttons.
‘Penthouse suite, I believe, sir.’ She gave Jack a dazzling smile which, to Jane’s jealous eyes, was more provocative than it should have been.
Jack nodded, and Jane deliberately nuzzled in to his shoulder. He smiled down at her and put his arm round her waist as they ascended the ten floors to the top.
Hands off. This fella’s mine, she thought to herself, as she caught the lift girl’s eye.
But she was disconcerted to find both sets of luggage waiting for them as they entered the spacious lounge area of their suite. Surely they weren’t sharing a hotel room?
Yet why not? Jack had obviously assumed that, after their passionate embraces, it would be OK. He had flown her here and booked the hotel, and she hadn’t thought to check they would have separate rooms.
Jane felt uncomfortable. It was just so unexpected, and somehow a bit presumptuous. But what could she say?
Yes, she wanted him, but it didn’t feel right in these circumstances. A few miles away, little Charlie wasn’t yet out of intensive care and her fraught sister was keeping anxious watch by his bed. So, instead of feeling excited at the thought of sharing a room and a bed with Jack, Jane felt pressured and distinctly uncomfortable.
She watched as he swiftly dismissed the waiting bellboy with a generous tip. Then he strode across the room, flinging open the double doors to a luxurious bedroom. With a beaming smile and a flourish, he invited her into the room.
‘Look at the view, Jane. You can see all the way down to the waterfront from here. That clump of rock in the bay is Alcatraz. If you look over there, you can just make out a tram climbing that hill. Come and see the fabulous ‘Frisco, lying at your feet.’
Shyly, slowly, Jane followed him in.
She couldn’t believe the size of the bed, which seemed to dominate the room. As she joined him at the window, Jack’s arm once again encircled her waist, but this time she stayed stiffly upright. Acutely aware of the bed out of the corner of her eye, she felt herself colouring up, so made a big show of looking out of the windows at the view, which was undoubtedly stunning.
Feeling her tense up, Jack gave her a puzzled look. Then the source of her discomfiture dawned on him and his lips twitched with amusement. Seeing Jane once again avert her gaze from the large opulently-cushioned bed in the centre of the room, he couldn’t resist teasing her.
Impulsively, he flung himself onto the bed. Then, with a wicked leer, he adopted a stud-like pose and grinned lasciviously at her.
‘Well, my hot, foxy, little minx…how’s about it then?’
Astonished, Jane spun round, her bright blue eyes wide with shock. Gulping and pink-cheeked, she stood rooted to the spot.
With what he hoped was his best smoulder, he patted the bed beside him.
Her face was such a picture of horror, Jack just couldn’t maintain the rampant stud act any longer, and burst out laughing.
‘Darling Jane, you didn’t think I was serious, did you? You must have a very low opinion of my writing abilities if you think, as an Oscar-winning scriptwriter to the stars, I would ever contemplate a chat-up line like “How’s about it then?”’
He leapt off the bed and, with a few long strides, swept a relieved Jane into a fervent embrace.
‘I’m sorry, my darling, I couldn’t resist teasing you. I could see how uptight you were about the bed. You were looking anywhere rather than at it. I’ve never seen anyone so fixated with a view.’
Giggling, she relaxed into his arms, feebly thumping her fists against his chest. But, despite the rampant unsubtlety of his approach, he had seen desire lurking deep in her eyes. ‘Not yet,’ he thought, as he tenderly stroked the soft fronds of her hair.
