by Alison Bond
‘Don’t worry,’ said Tomas, and squeezed her hand.
‘I’m not worried.’
Kelly wondered what it was like for showbiz journalists to spend their days writing about people they didn’t know. For example, passing judgement on a relationship that didn’t even exist, not yet. It seemed so ridiculous that it was impossible to be offended. This was the world in which her mother had lived, where you could be condemned or applauded for a single out-of-context sentence or photograph, where the press create a persona which might be only one-tenth accurate. How could you ever truly know a woman who lived in a world like that? And how did Ruby pick the people that she could trust from within it?
There was a commotion some distance away, by the railings that held back the general public. Kelly peeked across to see what was happening. It looked as if some guy had climbed over the railing and was struggling to get past the frontline of security. The excitement had overcome his common sense. She turned away quickly.
Then she heard someone hollering her name: ‘Kelly! Kel!’ so loud that it soared above the constant rumble of the crowd. She could make out a figure waving at her. At first she thought it was a photographer. She looked closer. No camera.
She took a few steps in that direction, leaving the main flow of the red carpet and dragging Tomas with her. There was something familiar about the movement of the waving arms. She stepped a little closer.
Holy shit on a stick, it was Jez. Kelly dropped Tomas’s hand as if it was on fire and felt as if she was struggling for breath. What on earth was Jez doing here? In Los Angeles. Wasn’t he supposed to be in Wales? It was Jez, right? Wasn’t it? Oh-God-yes-it-was.
‘Do you know him?’ asked Tomas. His eyes were amused and curious.
‘I do, yes.’ He just saw me holding your hand.
‘Then you’d better go over and say hi.’
‘Yeah, I better had.’ She stood motionless until Tomas had to give her a little shove.
Jez was still calling out for her and in an effort to make him stop she waved her hand in acknowledgement. She was embarrassed. Her self-confidence plummeted and she didn’t feel like a movie star any more, she felt like plain old Kelly, girlfriend of Jez, miles away from home, an impostor.
Jez had a ridiculous grin on his face. ‘Hey, babe!’ he said.
When she reached him he tried to hug her over the railings, where he had been firmly put back in his place by security, but settled for rubbing her right arm so hard that she thought she was in danger of getting a friction burn. ‘What are you doing here?’ she said.
‘I went to the Peninsula but you’d checked out. Your dad didn’t have your new number. How are you?’
‘I don’t mean here-here, I mean here in Los Angeles.’
‘You know, support and stuff. My mum gave me some money for a cheap flight. She knew I was worried about you.’
Kelly wasn’t smiling. She didn’t need anyone to be worried about her. His delight at finding her was starting to fade as he noticed it was not reciprocated. He carried on talking but his enthusiasm lost colour. ‘I thought I’d just fly out and then either keep trying your dad or just find you. Which I guess I did. So here we are.’
Kelly was stunned. He wasn’t allowed to chase her across an ocean on the off-chance. It made her feel claustrophobic. He had asked if he could come with her and she had said no, hadn’t she? Seeing him here suddenly, a remnant of her normal life in this crazy circus she was visiting was all wrong. She was mortified.
‘Who’s your friend?’ asked Jez, shooting a filthy look in Tomas’s direction. He was jealous, and Kelly was ashamed of how much that excited her. Jez was never jealous. She could talk about the new guy at work, or the new barman at the local pub, and his trust in her would never waver.
‘He’s family, sort of.’
‘You’ve met the family?’ he said. ‘That’s great. And you like some of them well enough to hold hands. Excellent.’ Still jealous, now a little bit sarcastic too. A less attractive combination.
She wanted to retreat back into the circus where decisions seemed meaningless because it didn’t feel like real life. Jez made her remember that she had a past, that she had made mistakes. She was in shock. Seeing him was a moment of clarity about where she really belonged, and for a second she hesitated about the whole shebang (no, tribute) because what she really wanted to do, more than anything, was go back to whatever cheap motel Jez was staying at, hang out with him, order room service and watch crap television. That would be so much easier. But she wanted more. She had started to feel as though she was getting somewhere on this journey, beginning to understand Ruby, and so herself. She couldn’t derail. She had to do this on her own.
‘I have to go,’ she said.
‘It’s okay,’ said Jez. ‘Look.’ He pulled off his dark grey hoodie to reveal a perfectly respectable black suit. ‘I can come with you.’
‘You can’t,’ she said. She waved her invitation in front of his nose.
‘No, wait, I spoke to the people here a few days ago and gave them my name, explained the situation. They said if I managed to track you down I’d be on a list, I should bring ID, you’d vouch for me and it would be cool.’ He countered her invitation by waving his pass port in her face.
‘Explained what situation exactly?’
‘You know, that I’m your boyfriend and you’d want me here, but what with the bereavement and us both coming from overseas and everything…’ He trailed off. ‘You don’t want me here at all, do you?’
Kelly said nothing. She just stood there in her scarlet satin and wished that he would disappear. He had come all this way. And all she wanted was for him to go so that she could get back to pretending to be more than she was.
‘Won’t you at least tell me where you’re staying?’ he said.
He wasn’t making a fuss. She was grateful that he gave up so easily. You could always count on Jez not to make a big deal of anything if surrender was an option.
She pulled a pen out of her handbag and scrawled down her cell number on the back of his hand. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just that you won’t know anyone and it’ll be intense and…’
‘Forget it,’ he said.
‘Call me later,’ she said. ‘Don’t be pissed off.’ But who could blame him? She knew that she could bring that gorgeous smile to his face by saying, yes, please, stay with me, hold my hand. But the words refused to come. She felt like a total bitch. Why couldn’t she just welcome him, be glad for him? Not many guys would cross an ocean just to be by her side. She was so mistrustful of love that she kept pushing him away no matter what he did.
‘It’s okay’ he said. ‘You’re all at sea. I understand.’
It was the perfect description for how she was feeling. He knew her too well. She almost relented, but not quite. He reached out for her hand and as he did so his glance bounced off her bare wrist.
You cut it off,’ he said, looking for the leather bracelet.
‘It didn’t go with my outfit.’ The words sounded callous and she saw the stab of pain in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Just go,’ he said. ‘Enjoy yourself if you can.’
It was her last chance to say that she wanted him. This could be the end of Jez and Kelly. What she was doing to him was unforgivable, but she couldn’t stop herself. Being mean to him was easier than letting him close enough to hurt her.
‘Go,’ he said, and this time it sounded like he meant it.
Kelly walked away feeling small and obnoxious. She stole a look back over her shoulder. Jez was watching her and he smiled broadly, but it was a hollow smile.
Sofia met her half-way. ‘Who was that?’
‘Jez,’ said Kelly flatly.
‘The boyfriend? Cute. Great smile.’
You should see it when it’s genuine.’
‘He just turned up?’
‘I didn’t even know he was in LA.’
‘I don’t know whether that’s adorable or pathetic.’
‘Me neither.’
As soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. She was just being smart, trying to be funny to impress Sofia. Sofia laughed and Kelly’s gaze ducked back towards him again, hoping that he hadn’t seen. Girlfriend walks away with famous new best friend and they start laughing. She wanted to blow him a kiss, to say sorry, to reassure him that she was still the same girl deep down, except she didn’t know if that was true. Anyway, he had gone.
The two of them rejoined Tomas and thankfully he didn’t ask Kelly to explain the over-eager fan. She had no idea what she would have said. She pasted a smile on her face and tried to stuff her mixed-up feelings about Jez into a box marked ‘Later’. They walked up to the elegant main doors and stepped inside the marble-floored reception room of the lavish hotel.
Even Sofia said, ‘Wow!’ A harpist was set up at the far end of the cavernous space playing Mendelssohn. The acoustics, it had to be said, weren’t great. The high ceiling of the reception room was wreathed in red roses and ivy, twined around trellis, and matching displays of red roses and white baby’s breath stood on a dozen plinths throughout the room. It could have been a wedding. Tomas guided her so effortlessly through the chattering throng that she felt as if she was being led on the dance floor by a pro. Her emotions might be all over the place but at least she was sure-footed.
Beyond the reception room was another hall, even more impressive than the first. The red roses continued but here they were scattered over the white Irish linen tablecloths and the guests crushed loose petals beneath their feet as they searched for their seats. The sound of the harp gave way almost seamlessly to the lilting accompaniment of a string quartet, tucked on to the first landing of a sweeping staircase good enough for Tara, playing something melodious that Kelly couldn’t place. The walls of the dining room were covered with projected images of Ruby over the years, the beams interrupted by the people walking by and casting jumpy shadows throughout the room. The light split into crazy patterns as it refracted off the crystal smothering each table. Kelly stopped looking where she was going and stared at the pictures instead. A hundred different Rubys flirted with the camera and smiled down at the assembling guests.
‘Α-list turn out,’ said Sofia, as they all scoured the beautifully presented seating plan. Tomas was looking for their places, Kelly was being hit between the eyes by familiar names.
Were all these people her friends?’ she asked.
Tomas laughed. A big, hearty laugh that surprised Kelly. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not at all. Some of them may have been, she was around for a very long time, but no. They all dipped deep.’
Kelly didn’t understand.
‘Into their pockets,’ he said. ‘This is Los Angeles, it’s a benefit, people like a black-tie photo opportunity that prints the word “charity” on the same page as their name. They pay for the privilege.’
‘How much do you think?’
‘Thousands.’
‘For a table?’
‘For a plate.’
What’s the charity?’
‘I don’t know and they don’t care. Ask anyone here and I bet they couldn’t tell you.’
She was tempted to do just that, turn around and ask the first person she saw. She wanted to know which charity had been chosen and how. Who had made that decision? Had Ruby worked with many charities? Had she been a patron of any of them? Had she given them all of her money over the years?
‘Who paid for me?’
‘I don’t know. Max, I guess. Who invited you?’
‘Octavia. She said Max would organize it.’
‘There you go,’ he said. ‘Max paid.’
He found their names listed on separate tables. Kelly was on the family table with Sofia. She looked around for Sofia who had wandered off in a flurry of air-kisses with some people Kelly didn’t recognize. Eventually she saw her settling at a table right up front next to the stage.
‘I’ll look for you after dinner,’ she said.
Tomas placed his hand on the swell of her bum. ‘Shall we both ditch this scene right now and go back to my hotel?’
He had to be joking. ‘Maybe later,’ she said, trying to sound cool, as if the suggestion didn’t fill her with equal parts of excitement and dread.
‘I hope so.’ He kissed her cheek and turned away. She lost him in a sea of black tuxedos.
A lot of women were wearing black too. Kelly stood out in her ruby-red, which was not necessarily a good thing. She picked her way through the people and took her seat across the table from Sofia, next to Vincent’s wife and an empty seat with no place card.
She chatted to Vincent’s wife for a while, which was not very interesting. The woman talked about her children incessantly. Sofia had angled her chair away from the family table and was laughing effortlessly with a horde of famous faces behind her. That’s the difference between us, thought Kelly, Sofia belongs with that crowd, and I belong on this side bemoaning the lack of a good baby sitter.
The words floated over her as she thought about Jez and wondered if she could run outside and find him and say, ‘Let’s go home,’ but she knew that it was too late. She had a feeling reminiscent of the morning after, knowing that she’d acted stupidly and trying not to regret it too much, hoping that it wasn’t as bad as she remembered. It had been such a surprise to see him standing there; she didn’t do well with surprises. Would he call? She wouldn’t blame him if he never spoke to her again. If she didn’t want him to love her, then why did the thought of a future without Jez in it make her feel sick? What had she done? She had acted like a schoolgirl in the playground – don’t come near me, I’ve got my new friends – saving face by being mean just because she felt uncomfortable. Attacking to defend herself and hurting those close to her in the process. She felt like a bully. He didn’t deserve to be treated like that; all he had done was love her. Was that so bad?
The cellist from the string quartet played the opening notes from a piece by Handel, loud enough to silence the hum of the crowd, and Max Parker took the stage. The cellist faded into the background the moment he began to speak.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, Ruby Valentine would be honoured that so many of you have taken the time to come here today and celebrate her life and mourn her untimely death.’ He paused to be sure he had the attention of every guest. ‘I would like it if you would all take a moment to look back with me over some of the best work of a truly gifted actress.’
The lights dimmed. The small pictures of Ruby projected all over the room changed into stark squares of white light that danced across the walls like shooting stars until they all came to rest on the giant screen behind Max. A montage began. The guests were spellbound as Ruby loved and fought and wept over the years.
Kelly felt goose bumps spring up on her bare arms although it wasn’t cold. She wondered what Ruby would make of all this fuss and decided that she would think it was absurdly over the top but would secretly love it.
In the near darkness Kelly felt someone slip into the empty seat beside her. Max. He saw Kelly next to him and his eyes widened in shock.
The film drew to a close with Ruby’s name and the dates of her life and then the screen faded back up to white. The guests were sniffing noticeably and women were delicately patting their eyes, using their pinky fingers to wipe away any stray mascara. The applause was evangelical. Then dinner was served and attention moved abruptly from the woman of the hour to the contents of a shellfish terrine.
‘Good to see you again, Max,’ said Kelly. Softly, softly, wouldn’t do to scare him away. Although the idea that a mega-agent like Max Parker could be scared of a nobody like Kelly was, frankly, ludicrous.
‘Kelly,’ he nodded. ‘You’ll have to excuse me. I just want to say hello to Octavia but then I have to conference with the planner.’ He stepped away from the table, sidled over to Octavia, kissed her cheek, said something Kelly didn’t catch that made Octavia put on her fake grief face, and then left.
If M
ax wasn’t scared of her, then why did he keep running away?
Kelly ate her meal quietly, listening to Vincent’s wife and searching across the room trying to see if she could spot Tomas. She couldn’t shake off the image of Jez, standing forlorn behind the railings that separated them. The idea of Jez and Tomas being in the same time zone made her anxious. It wasn’t as if they’d even kissed. It seemed like such a trivial thing to be concerned about during a tribute for her dead mother.
After dinner, and after far too many stories about children Kelly didn’t know, she saw Max again, untouchable under the spotlight. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, if you’d like to follow me through to the roof terrace.’ He gestured towards the ornate staircase.
There was immediate confusion as chairs were pulled back and women searched for purses and wraps. Four hundred people then climbed the wide stairway to the shaded terrace. Potted tree ferns intertwined with tumbling bougainvillea and the sweet scent of jasmine filled the air. Golden fairy lights were twinkling among the foliage. Waiters offered liqueurs and a cocktail they called a Ruby Valentine, which people said tasted suspiciously like a strawberry martini, and Kelly thought tasted like drinking a lip balm. There were too many people for such a small space and she felt hemmed in. She lost sight of Sofia and wondered if the girl ever stayed still. But she found Tomas, or rather, he found her.
She was having a brief chat with a waitress who had a British accent. The waitress seemed to have no idea who she was and Kelly liked it that way Kelly admired her shoes, she complimented Kelly’s dress. Tomas appeared and gave them both a look which made the waitress dissolve into the background.
‘What’s wrong?’ he said. ‘So bored you’ve started mixing with the help?’
Kelly was offended on the waitress’s behalf. ‘Is there a rule against that?’
‘Not a rule, more of a principle.’ He smiled when he said it so Kelly gave him the benefit of the doubt; he was probably joking. ‘Are you enjoying yourself?’
The truth was that Kelly was starting to find the whole thing a little insincere. All this celebration of Ruby’s life was ironic, when the lady herself hadn’t valued it enough to stick around. ‘It’s an extraordinary party,’ she said.
