Out of the Shadows

by Susan Lewis

  ‘Probably. With any luck it’ll all have blown over by then, because I’m getting close to the end of my tether. I don’t want to sound unsympathetic, and I’m not, but I can’t imagine what she ever thought might come of this crush.’

  ‘She probably didn’t think,’ Pats responded. ‘Has she discussed any of it with Lola at all?’

  ‘No, but she asked her for Duncan’s number the other day. I haven’t sent it to her yet, mainly because I’m not supposed to know, and since she’s apparently trying to fill a void, I’m sure you’ll agree that Duncan’s hardly the person to do that.’

  ‘Definitely not,’ Pats replied, glancing up as a waiter started to hover. After ordering an espresso she said, ‘Poor lamb. She’s obviously having a really tough time of it lately. Someone needs to spoil her a bit, and if a godmother can’t do that, I don’t know who can. I’ll take her shopping when I get there. Barcelona’s coming up, isn’t it?’

  ‘Oh, as for that, she doesn’t want to go any more. Of course, I haven’t mentioned anything about the money, but it was right on the tip of my tongue, I can tell you. No doubt she’ll change her mind between now and then, and meanwhile, a shopping trip with you will probably do her the power of good. OK, coming,’ she said to someone else. ‘I’m needed in make-up,’ she told Pats. ‘We’ll talk later. Give my love to Fantastic Frank and tell him we’re all looking forward to meeting him.’

  After she’d rung off Patsy thanked the waiter for her coffee as he set it down, and sat staring across the boulevard to where a group of tourists was spilling out of a bus on to the pavement. She was having some difficulty putting her thoughts into any kind of order, mainly because the last few minutes had left her feeling more unsettled than perhaps was reasonable. In the end she had to concede that sitting here, drinking coffee, wasn’t going to make things any clearer. She could only wait until she got to London and found out for herself exactly what was going on. It was just a pity, she thought, as she dropped a few coins on the table, that she wasn’t going this weekend, rather than next, because Neve must be feeling pretty heartbroken and lonely right now to have called her, Pats, in such a terrible state.

  ‘You go on,’ Neve said to Sasha as they gathered up their books to leave the history class. ‘Save me a place in the dining room.’

  ‘Where are you going?’ Sasha asked.

  ‘Nowhere, I just need to call my mum.’

  Shrugging, Sasha hoisted her bag over one shoulder, and began filing out into the corridor with the others.

  When the room had cleared, and the teacher had gone too, Neve switched on her mobile phone. Her face was ashen, her mind was a turmoil of unhappiness and dread. She didn’t know if this was the right thing to do, but she was going to try anyway.

  Taking a scrap of paper from her pencil case, she dialled the number written on it. After the second ring a bright cockney voice came down the line saying, ‘Hello, Cates Exports, can I help you?’

  ‘Yes, I um … Can I speak to Mr Cates, please?’ Neve asked tentatively.

  Sounding vaguely taken aback, the telephonist said, ‘I’ll see if he’s available. Who’s calling please?’

  ‘It’s … Um, I’m his niece. Neve.’

  ‘Oh, hello love. We met once, a long time ago. I don’t expect you remember me, but I remember you. Anyway, I’m sure your Uncle Hugh would love to talk to you. Hang on, I’ll put you straight through.’

  Waiting, Neve’s face grew paler than ever as her hand clenched tightly round the phone.

  Finally Hugh’s voice came down the line, saying, ‘Neve? Well, there’s a turn-up for the books. How are you, chicken? What can I do for you?’

  Neve took a breath. ‘I was wondering,’ she began. ‘I … Um … Do you happen to have a number for my dad?’

  Hugh chuckled. ‘Of course I do,’ he replied. ‘I thought you already had it, but here it is. Have you got a pen?’

  Neve quickly fumbled in her pencil case and as her uncle gave her the number, a digit at a time as though she were simple, she jotted it down on the same scrap of paper. ‘Thank you,’ she said when he’d finished.

  ‘No problem. So how are you? Things are going well for Mum, I see. Bet you’re enjoying all that fame she’s getting.’

  ‘Yes,’ Neve said faintly, and after mumbling something about hoping he was well she ended the call.

  With her heart in her mouth she dialled her father’s number. Her head was swimming, her hands were shaking. Please let him answer, she begged silently. Please don’t let me have to leave a message.

  ‘Hello?’ Duncan’s voice shouted down the line.

  Relieved, Neve started to speak, but there was so much noise at the other end that she knew already he was going to have trouble hearing her. ‘Dad, it’s me,’ she shouted back, but her voice was mangled by tears.

  ‘Who?’ he said.

  ‘Neve.’

  ‘Who? You’ll have to speak up.’

  ‘It’s Neve,’ she sobbed. ‘Your daughter.’

  There was a moment of only background chaos before he said, ‘Neve? Is that you?’

  ‘Yes, it’s me.’

  ‘Well, I’ll be … Hang on, sweetie. It’s a madhouse here. Let me go outside.’

  As she waited Neve dashed the tears from her cheeks. It was going to be all right, she was telling herself. He sounded pleased to hear her, so she could go there and everything would be fine.

  ‘Neve, honey. Are you OK?’ Duncan said, coming back on the line. ‘This is a big surprise. What’s happening with you? Where are you?’

  ‘I’m at school,’ she replied, ‘but I was thinking … Dad, can I come and see you?’

  ‘Come and see me?’ he echoed, sounding stunned. ‘Well, of course, sweetie. I told your mother you could whenever you want. When are you thinking?’

  ‘I checked the trains and there’s one to Glasgow tonight that gets …’

  ‘Tonight?’ he broke in. ‘Oh, Neve, honey. It would be lovely to see you, but I don’t have anywhere for you to stay, and I’m right in the middle of a rehearsal at the moment. We’re working round the clock. Why don’t you come during your summer holidays? The play will have opened by then. You’ll be able to see it, and we can spend some proper time together.’

  Neve was fighting hard not to cry. ‘I just thought … It was like …’ There was no point, he was too busy. ‘OK, I’ll come in the summer,’ she said.

  ‘You do that, hen, but don’t book anything before telling me, will you? I’ll have to make sure everything’s going all right with the play before I can take any time off. It might only be a few days, but that’ll be better than nothing, won’t it?’

  Neve tried to say yes but the lump in her throat was too big.

  ‘I’d better go now, sweetie,’ he said. ‘You take care, OK? It’s lovely to hear you. Call again any time, and all being well I’ll see you in the summer.’

  * * *

  Susannah’s schedule was so full over the next few days that by the time the weekend came round it was all she could do to get herself on a train back to London. She was so exhausted she slept the entire way, then dozed off again during the taxi ride to Clapham.

  Just as he’d promised, Alan had supper waiting, which he served in the patio garden since it was such a lovely balmy evening. The clematis and sweet peas were in full bloom and candles were flickering in their glass holders, almost seeming to dance to the gentle melodies that drifted from the speakers he’d set up on one of the fences. It was all very romantic, and thoughtful, but she was still so tired that by the time she’d finished eating she could only excuse herself and go off to bed.

  By the time he joined her the sun had disappeared, leaving the moon to fill the shadows with its pale blue light. Hearing him tiptoe quietly into the bathroom she lay very still pretending to be sleeping, and when he came to snuggle up behind her she only murmured drowsily and continued to pretend.

  The next morning he brought her breakfast in bed, then told her what he had planned
for the day, most of which entailed shopping for baby paraphernalia, or visiting the interior designer he was thinking of commissioning to convert the guest bedroom into a nursery. Deciding the easiest course was simply to go along with what he wanted, she showered and dressed and got into the car ready to be taken to his various rendezvous.

  Though she tried several times to call Neve throughout the day her phone was always turned off, and none of her messages were returned. She spoke to Lola who said she’d get Neve to ring, but by the evening there was still no word, and Susannah was so worn out by the day’s activities that she simply sank into a sofa and let Alan wait on her again.

  On Sunday they went to Lola’s for lunch, only to discover that Neve had taken herself off to Melinda’s for the day.

  ‘I don’t understand why you’re avoiding me,’ Susannah cried into Neve’s voicemail when she and Alan returned home. ‘If you’re upset about the baby, or with me, we need to talk about it, because this isn’t getting us anywhere and I’d really like to see you.’

  An hour later Neve sent a text saying Going to cinema with M and parents. Love Nx

  When Susannah rang there was no reply, and she almost threw her phone across the room in her distress and frustration.

  ‘Calm down,’ Alan advised gently. ‘It won’t do any good to get worked up over it. She’s making a stand of some kind, and when she’s finished I’m sure she’ll let us know.’

  ‘But I have to get the train first thing in the morning,’ Susannah protested, ‘and I haven’t even clapped eyes on her since I came home. Did I tell you she rang Patsy earlier in the week sobbing her heart out? I have to talk to her, before this gets out of hand.’

  ‘Do you know what she said to Patsy?’ he asked, stroking her hair.

  ‘She was crying too hard, Pats couldn’t understand her, but if she’s that unhappy I can’t let her go on that way.’

  ‘Leave it to me,’ he said. ‘You don’t need the stress and forgive me for pointing out the obvious, but I’m better qualified to deal with her problems than you are.’

  ‘I’m her mother,’ Susannah snapped, jerking her head away. ‘Whatever’s bothering her, I need to know about it, even if it is about you.’

  His smile was solemn. ‘Think how difficult it is for her, being jealous of her own mother,’ he pointed out. ‘She loves you, very much, but you have the love of the person she thinks should be hers. She knows it’s wrong, and that nothing can happen between us, but that doesn’t stop her wanting it, or hurting because she can’t have it. She’s very confused about her feelings, but we’re working it through, and though it might not seem so to you, we are making progress.’

  Susannah was shaking her head, only half-listening to what he was saying. All she could think of was how desperate she was to get hold of Neve and do whatever it took to make her open up to her, the way she always used to.

  ‘She’s got a lot of issues right now,’ he reminded her, ‘not only with her father, and the void he’s left in her life, but having to share you with a new baby, and me and the rest of the world. That’s a big leap from having you all to herself.’

  ‘If it’s affecting her like this then maybe I should rethink everything,’ Susannah said irritably.

  ‘Well, let’s explore that. How difficult would it be to get out of your contract?’

  Her eyes darted to his, then away again. Since she hadn’t actually been referring to the series, but to the baby and him, she could only feel thankful that he’d misunderstood. That was a scene she really didn’t want to get into now. ‘Next to impossible,’ she answered shortly.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure. Listen, I’m sorry I can’t discuss this now. I have lines to learn, and …’

  ‘Don’t run away from the issue,’ he broke in gently. ‘Things aren’t working out very well with you being away, and you have to face it.’

  It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that the problem was him, but finally registering how worried he was, and how helpful he was trying to be, she bit the words back. ‘I will,’ she sighed, going to put her arms around him as much to avoid looking at him, as to show him affection, ‘just as soon as this first stint on the programme is over.’

  ‘And when will that be?’

  ‘August. I have a week’s break at the beginning of the month, so perhaps we can all go away somewhere, or both of us can sit down and chat to Neve. Oh God, it seems such an age away. What if she can’t hold on that long?’

  ‘Of course she can,’ he said, drawing back to look at her. ‘I’m due to have a chat with her again on Wednesday, and she generally looks forward to our little sessions, so I’ll try to find out then if there’s anything else she might be holding back. Maybe there’s a situation at school that’s upsetting her, or a boyfriend issue.’ He gave a laugh. ‘I’d be happy to hear that was on the agenda, at least then I’d know she was no longer carrying a torch for me.’

  Turning away, Susannah pulled open the fridge and poured herself some wine. Coming up behind her, he removed the glass from her hand and replaced it with a juice.

  Keeping her eyes down to disguise her annoyance, she thanked him and took a sip. It was a bitter irony that Neve should be suffering a broken heart over him, when she herself was feeling so stifled by his constant attention.

  Michael Grafton spun his chair away from the window as Naomi, his PA, came in through his open office door carrying an armful of scripts and DVDs. There was a post-weekend sort of glow about her that lit up her smooth, angular features, reminding him of how recently she’d married, and making him feel pleased that she was so happy. She’d been with him for over fifteen years by now, so he knew better than most how close she’d come to giving up on ever meeting the love of her life.

  Putting a hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, as she looked at him in a ‘where do you want these?’ sort of way, he said, ‘What is all that?’

  ‘It just came in from LA,’ she told him. ‘There’s a note from Dan at CAA explaining it all. I think it’s something you must have asked for.’

  Remembering, he said, ‘OK, put it on the table over there. Any word from Marty Filbert at Ocean yet?’

  ‘Too early in the day, but as of Friday our bid was still the highest, so, with any luck, we should have the rights to the latest Jean Crowther by the close of play today.’

  With a comical raise of his eyebrows he said, ‘At which point the woman will be a three-time millionairess, and we’ll have to start borrowing as fast as … Yep, I’m still here,’ he said into the phone. ‘It’s OK, I don’t mind waiting.’ To Naomi he said, ‘I’m trying to get hold of my son, who’s somewhere in Laos, according to his latest email. He desperately needs two hundred quid he informs me, but neglected to say where to send it.’

  ‘Do you want me to sort it?’ she offered, turning back from the table that ran the entire length of one wall of his penthouse office.

  ‘No, it’s fine. It’ll be good to hear him, if this person, whoever she is, manages to track him down.’

  ‘I’ll leave you to it then. Oh,’ she said, turning back as she reached the door, ‘I picked up an email from Marlene Wyndham asking if you’d had time to look at the Larkspur rushes over the weekend. She’s keen to know if you have any comments for the director before he takes episode three into the edit suite this morning.’

  Puzzled, Michael said, ‘Is there a particular reason why she wants my comments?’

  ‘I’ll take it from that that you haven’t set eyes on them. Apparently, episode three features the first nude scene of the series.’

  A kind of mask dropped over Michael’s features as he said, ‘Tell Marlene I have every faith in her, and I’ll be happy to watch the transmission copy when it’s ready.’

  ‘By which time you’ll be in New York.’

  He nodded. ‘Exactly. They don’t need me nurse-maiding them any longer, she’s just being polite. Oh hell,’ he groaned, as a single tone sounded down the line. �
��I’ve been cut off.’

  ‘Let me deal with it,’ she said, coming back to press redial, ‘you need to go or you’ll be late for your meeting with Grant Mason.’

  Getting to his feet he said, ‘Remind me again what I’m seeing him about.’

  ‘Top of the agenda is the Cheeseman affair,’ she replied, referring to a libel suit his lawyer was bringing against a small publishing house for accusations of plagiarism. ‘You also want to ask him if there’s any news about the email trace his investigators are carrying out after those messages popped up for Susannah. Have there been any more, do you know?’

  ‘I’m presuming not, or Marlene would have sent a copy through. OK, I’m out of here,’ he declared, unhooking his jacket from the coat stand. ‘I’ll keep my mobile switched on, so ring the minute there’s any news on the Crowther auction.’

  Susannah was on the unit bus returning to the Centre after a long day’s shoot at a specially convened horse show in the neighbouring valley. After listening to the first assistant announcing a few changes to the next morning’s call times, she switched on her mobile and felt her tiredness evaporate as she saw that one of the messages was from Michael.

  ‘I thought you’d like to know,’ he began, ‘that a small breakthrough has been made in the search for the person who sent you the anonymous emails. Still no identity yet, but apparently they’re coming from an Internet cafe in Dewsbury, which is about midway between Huddersfield and Leeds. As soon as there’s any more to report I’ll be sure to let you know.’

  As the message finished she hit 1 to replay it. With so much else going on she’d all but forgotten about the emails and now, in a perverse kind of way, she felt almost glad of them for the distraction they were providing. However, when the bus eventually pulled up in the stableyard she realised she’d slept the entire way, and twenty minutes later, after changing out of her costume, she discovered she really wasn’t in the mood to join the others in the recreation barn this evening. It had been a long day thanks to a six a.m. make-up call, and tiring, thanks to how often she’d had to get on and off Silver, and hectic, with too many scenes being scheduled into too few hours. Added to which, it was already seven thirty, so by the time she’d prepared some kind of snack supper and learned her lines for the next day it would probably be after ten, and then she’d have to be up again at dawn.