by Susan Lewis
Corrie glanced over at him and he smiled.
‘Well, Hollywood’s not so far,’ he said. ‘And we’d both much rather you were there and happy, than with us and miserable, isn’t that right, Annalise? And though it might pain you to hear it, TW would survive without you, you know.’
Corrie looked at them, and slowly a smile started to spread across her face. ‘You two really have been talking, haven’t you?’ she said.
Annalise and Phillip exchanged the kind of looks that to Corrie’s astute mind spoke volumes. ‘If only you knew,’ Annalise laughed.
‘So does this make it easier for you?’ Phillip said.
‘I guess it does,’ Corrie answered. ‘But we have to talk about it some more. I mean …’
‘There’s nothing to talk about, darling. At least not with us. It’s Cristos you must talk to.’
Corrie looked at him for a long moment, then suddenly she was on her feet, throwing her arms around him. ‘Oh Dad!’ she cried. ‘I do love him, really I do.’
‘I know you do, darling.’
There were tears on his cheeks when she pulled away. ‘It’s worth giving you up to him just to hear you call me Dad,’ he said.
‘Dad! Dad, Dad, Dad!’ she cried. ‘You’re the most wonderful dad in the world. Now, are you sure you don’t mind me going?’
‘Quite sure.’
‘Then if it’s all right with you I’m going to call him now.’
‘It’s all right with me, but if I were you …’ Phillip began, but Corrie had already run around the side of the villa heading off to her own next door.
Jeannie and Richard were in the bedroom of their Sherman Oaks home, packing – and fighting. As fast as Jeannie put things into the suitcase Richard was throwing them out, telling her she didn’t need them.
‘I know you don’t like flying,’ Jeannie was saying, ‘but you got yourself across to France all right, so now you’re gonna just have to … Hey! I want that hat,’ she cried, catching it as Richard flung it across the room, ‘it’s my lucky hat.’
‘Like your lucky dress, lucky shoes and lucky panties. Why do you need lucky panties? Who are you planning … Take it out, Jeannie. You’re not leaving any room for my stuff, and get the phone.’
‘I’m still watching you,’ Jeannie warned as she leaned across the bed to the telephone. ‘And put that hat back. Hello,’ she barked into the receiver.
‘Jeannie! It’s Corrie! I’ve tried all Cristos’s numbers and I couldn’t get him. Do you know where he is?’
Jeannie spun round to look at Richard. ‘Um, uh, hang on a minute,’ she said, and putting her hand over the mouthpiece she hissed, ‘It’s Corrie. She’s looking for Cristos. What do I tell her?’
‘What he told you to tell her if she called,’ Richard answered simply. Then seeing his wife’s distraught face, and realizing he was being far too casual about something so important, he got up from the floor and took the phone from her. ‘I’ll handle it,’ he said. ‘And don’t go near that suitcase. Corrie? Hi, it’s Richard. You’re looking for Cristos Jeannie told me.’
‘Yes, that’s right. Do you know where I can find him?’
‘Well, yeah, I do, but I can’t tell you I’m afraid.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, he’s like gone away. I mean, he’s still here in LA, but he’s not at his home. And he’s kind of left instructions to say that he didn’t want to talk to anyone …’ He paused and winced, ‘Most of all you.’
‘Oh no!’ Corrie cried. ‘Oh God, what am I going to do? Are you in contact with him?’
‘Kind of.’
‘Then give him a message from me, please. Tell him that I’ve changed my mind. That I want to be with him. That I’ll leave England … Tell him I love him. Please Richard, would you do that for me?’
‘Sure, OK, I’ll tell him, but I don’t …’ He looked at the receiver. ‘She’s rung off,’ he said.
Corrie was marching about her room. She wanted to cry but wouldn’t let herself. She had to think, but all that was going through her mind was how much she must have hurt him for him to have shut himself away the way he had. She so desperately wanted to make it up to him now, but what could she do? Perhaps she should just get on a plane to LA. But no, if he didn’t want to see her then there would be no way of finding him. Maybe, once Richard had given him the message he’d call.
The next morning Corrie was in the shower when the telephone rang. She bumped her shoulder on the bed post, stubbed her toe on her suitcase and tripped over the towel in her haste to get to the phone.
‘Am I speaking to Corrie Browne?’ said the voice at the other end.
‘Cristos!’ she cried. ‘Oh Cristos! Did you speak to Richard?’
‘Yeah, I spoke to Richard.’
‘Then you know. You know that …’
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘Do you want to see me?’
‘Sure I do.’
‘Then I’m coming right there. I’ll get the next flight out, I’ll be there as quick as I can. And Cristos, Cristos, I … No, I’ll tell you when I get there.’ She rang off and started flying about the room stuffing things into her suitcase. She took her sarong and wrapped it around her, there was no time to dress. Then she remembered she had to book a flight. She got on the phone to reception, asked them to handle it, then heaved her case from the bed and dragged it out onto the balcony.
‘A porter,’ she said to herself. ‘Dad! Annalise! Oh God, I haven’t told them I’m going.’
She ran back inside to the telephone. There was no reply from either Annalise or Phillip and she’d already forgotten the porter.
‘Damn it!’ she muttered as she got to the door. Well, there was nothing else for it, she’d drag the case up to reception herself. She walked outside and picked up the case.
‘You going some place?’
Corrie spun round, gasped and dropped her case. Cristos was standing at the entrance to the balcony, leaning against the door-frame. ‘Oh my God!’ she cried, and flew into his arms. ‘Oh Cristos! Why didn’t you tell me … Where were you calling from …? How did you get here? Richard said …’
‘How about one at a time,’ he laughed.
She shook her head trying to make sense of everything. ‘Five minutes ago you were in LA,’ she said.
‘Uh-uh. Five minutes ago I was in the lobby.’
‘But when did you get here?’
‘Ten minutes ago. Now how about you kiss me before the real interrogation starts?’
It was a long embrace and by the time it was over Corrie wasn’t at all sure she wanted to know the details until much, much later.
‘Hello there, you two,’ Phillip called from the next balcony.
Corrie turned to look at her father. She looked at Cristos then back to her father. ‘You knew he was here, didn’t you?’ she said to Phillip. ‘You knew all the time …’
‘I’ll leave you to do the explaining,’ Phillip grinned at Cristos. ‘Annalise and I will be in the restaurant if you want to join us for a late breakfast,’ and he disappeared.
‘So,’ Cristos said, picking up the suitcase and carrying it back into the villa, ‘Richard told me you changed your mind. You’re coming to Hollywood?’
‘Yes. Well, if you still want me,’ she answered, following behind him and reaching out to touch him as he put the case on the rack. ‘Well, yes, I guess you do or you wouldn’t be here. Are you really here? I can’t believe you’re really here.’
‘You want another one of those kisses, just to make sure?’
‘Mmm,’ she nodded eagerly.
‘Well you’re gonna have to wait. I want to hear what decisions you’ve reached.’
‘OK. Well, I’ve thought about it a lot … Come and sit down and I’ll tell you. But first I want to know what you and my father have been up to.’
‘Just a couple of phone calls. Nothing more,’ Cristos grinned, allowing her to lead him to the sofa. ‘Now, go on.’
&nbs
p; ‘Well, I thought that I could still make the programme about Siobhan, but I could make it with an American TV company. Of course I would need your help to get in, and I’d need you to point me in the direction of some good writers, and actors of course. Well, actually they’ll have to be British. Anyway, child abuse happens all over the world, not just in England. So I thought … Cristos you’re laughing at me.’
‘No, no,’ he said, holding up his hands. ‘It all sounds great so far. What happens next? After you’ve made the programme. Providing I can fix you up that is.’
‘I haven’t thought that far yet,’ she confessed. ‘And I have to admit it does bother me. I mean, what would I do in Hollywood while you’re away making your multi-million-dollar movies?’
‘You’re asking me?’
‘Yes.’
He shrugged. ‘I guess you’ll be too busy bringing up our kids to think about it.’
She kicked him. ‘Be serious.’
‘I was being serious. But I guess you’re not going to be happy unless you have a career. Maybe you’ll find one in American TV.’
Corrie screwed up her nose and he laughed.
‘British through and through,’ he remarked. ‘Think your TV’s better than ours, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she said frankly.
‘But you would make the programme about Siobhan in the States?’
‘So that I could be with you, and just so long as it’s not sponsored by some ghastly company who want their tasteless product in every shot.’
‘I see. What about your father and Annalise?’
‘We’ve talked about it, Phillip said he didn’t mind me leaving, but …’
‘You don’t really want to leave them?’
‘No. But for you I would.’
He laughed and drew her into his arms. ‘I guess I’d better come clean,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to live in Hollywood to be with me, Corrie. You don’t even have to make your programme with American TV. You can make it with TW, in London.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Corrie said, suddenly afraid that he was telling her he didn’t want her.
‘We’re going to live in London,’ he said.
Corrie stared at him, open-mouthed. ‘London?’ she repeated.
‘That’s what I said. I, Corrie Browne, am giving up Hollywood to come to you.’
‘No! But you can’t do that. What about your films?’
‘They make films in Europe, don’t they? I speak Italian and French, remember. And I went to film school in London. I’ve always had a notion to shoot a European movie.’
‘You never said before.’
He simply raised his brows.
‘You mean you’ll give up all that for me?’ she said breathlessly.
‘Sure. You were going to do it for me.’
‘But Cristos, it’s different for you. I mean, you’re, well, you’re you. Everyone in Hollywood wants you.’
‘They’ve had me,’ he laughed. ‘And I’ve got another surprise for you. How about I direct your programme for you?’
‘You?’
‘Yeah, why not?’
‘But you don’t direct TV. I’ll bet you don’t even know how to direct video.’
‘You’re right, I don’t. But I can direct film, and take it from me it’ll have a far greater impact on film.’
‘But you only shoot with 35mm. TW would never be able to run to that sort of budget.’
He looked at her, then slowly she started to laugh.
‘Of course, with your name, we’ll get all the finance we want.’
He nodded. ‘So how about it? You going to give me a job?’
She shook her head in amazement. ‘God! What is everyone going to say? Cristos Bennati gives up Hollywood to work in British TV.’
‘To make one TV programme,’ he corrected her, ‘done for cinema release first. Then back to movies.’
She looked at him. ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I can’t let you do it. I can’t let you give up Hollywood. It’s your whole life.’
‘Jesus, God Almighty, what does a man have to do? I’ve said I’ll come to England …’
‘No, this is important Cristos, it’s …’
‘Corrie, you’re the most difficult, most contrary woman I’ve ever met in my life. Now to hell with it, will you marry me?’
‘No!’
‘You damned well will.’
‘All right then, I will. But I can’t let you …’
‘Corrie, shut up!’
‘I will not.’
‘Just do as you’re told for once in your Goddammed life!’
Corrie grinned.
‘Now listen to me. I am coming to London, we are going to find ourselves a house to live in, and in case you don’t realize it you just, thirty seconds ago, agreed to marry me. You know what that means don’t you?’
For a moment Corrie looked blank, then slowly she started to smile.
‘You do. Good. Then let’s have it.’
‘Just like that? Sitting here like this?’
‘Just like that. Sitting here like this.’
‘OK. I love you, Bennati.’
‘I guess you do at that,’ he said, but his eyes were serious now, and pulling her into his arms he kissed her. ‘So just how soon are you going to make an honest man of me?’ he asked a while later.
‘As soon as you like.’
He nodded. ‘That’s good, because I thought we might do it Saturday.’
‘Saturday!’
‘Sure. Where are you going?’ he said as she headed off towards the telephone.
‘To call Paula. I have to tell her. Saturday!’
Cristos looked at his watch, then standing up he followed her to the phone and pressed the connectors as she was half way through dialling.
‘What are you doing?’ she said as he sat down on the bed and pulled her towards him.
‘Paula already knows,’ he said.
‘What? How?’
‘Annalise told her, yesterday. And my guess is she and Dave will be landing in Barbados in a couple of hours’ time.’
‘Barbados!’
‘Yep. They’ll get a connecting flight to Grenada this evening. They might even meet up with Jeannie and Richard.’
‘Jeannie and Richard! Cristos, what has been going on?’
‘They’re all coming for the wedding. My parents arrive tomorrow.’
Corrie shook her head. It was all too much to take in. ‘You were so sure I’d say yes?’
He nodded.
‘I hate you.’
‘Sure you do.’
‘Is there anything else you haven’t told me?’ she said.
‘Yep. We’re going to be married on my yacht.’
‘Your yacht? But you don’t have a yacht.’
‘Sure I do. I hired a crew to sail it in from Tortola, it should be here by now. And after the wedding you and I are going to sail off alone for our honeymoon.’
‘Do I get any say in this?’
‘No.’
‘But what am I going to wear?’
‘You look mighty fine to me as you are,’ he grinned, running his hands over her bottom. ‘What you wearing underneath this thing, by the way?’
‘Nothing. What are you going to wear?’
‘I’ll find something.’
‘I can’t believe it,’ Corrie said, sitting down next to him. ‘There’s been a real conspiracy going on here, hasn’t there? But why didn’t you tell me what you were planning?’
‘I wanted it to be a surprise,’ he answered.
‘And you say Paula and Dave are coming here? But they don’t have the money to …’ She looked at him. ‘You’re paying for them, aren’t you?’
‘I kind of thought you’d want them here when you got married,’ he answered. ‘But I guess I’ll have to stop indulging you this way or I’ll end up bankrupt. Now,’ he murmured, pulling open her sarong and pushing her back against the pillows, ‘tell me you love me again, I�
�ve kind of got a taste for hearing … Ouch!’ he yelled as she suddenly sat bolt upright.
‘Saturday!’ she cried. ‘We’re getting married on Saturday?’
‘I thought that’s what we just agreed,’ he answered, rubbing his head.
‘But today’s Wednesday. I don’t have time to play around here. There’ll be a hundred and one things to do.’ She leapt up from the bed. ‘Where am I going to get my hair done? What about flowers? Food? Wine? Then there’s the vicar. We’ll have to find a vicar. Oh, Cristos, why did you …? Cristos! What are you doing? Cristos, put me down. You’ll break your back.’
‘Corrie,’ he said, carrying her back across the room, ‘if we’re gonna be a team then you better get used to who’s giving the orders round here,’ and he dropped her onto the bed.
‘Oh, I already know that,’ she grinned up at him.
He laughed at the mischievous look in her eyes. ‘Then tell me you love me.’
‘Oh my! You think it’s you,’ she declared, but as he advanced purposefully towards her she shouted, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’
‘Not bad,’ he said, ‘but I reckon you could do a whole lot better …’
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Published by Arrow Books 2009
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Copyright © Susan Lewis 1993
Susan Lewis has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
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