by Carla Blake
“Because I am!”Carrie had replied and promptly burst into tears, leaving Andrea to comfort her and look daggers at Carmichael, who stared right back at her and looked ready to take the argument well into the next day, until Amanda stepped in and stopped things from going any further by fixing Carmichael with a disdainful look.
“Are you that insensitive that you can’t see what effect all this is having on Carrie?”She’d demanded, planting both hands on the table and leaning over him. “She’s tried so hard to keep her private life, private, and let’s face it, not even you suspected she was gay, yet all you can do is shout at her.”
Carmichael opened his mouth to answer, but Amanda hadn’t finished.
“And Carrie isn’t stupid! She knows how the media portrays her. She knows it’s mainly men she attracts, but despite how she feels, she’s never done anything to dispel their dreams. Instead she’s smiled and waved and jumped through bloody hoops for you making sure the image is intact. And if that isn’t behaving like a true professional I don’t know what is! So why don’t you stop behaving like a prize pillock and cut her some slack. You should be supporting her and trying to think of ways to minimize the damage, not sitting there looking like someone has bloody died!”
Carmichael deflated. “I know.”He said. “I hear what you’re saying and I’m sorry for getting angry. It was just a shock is all. I never thought.. oh, what does it matter now? Of course I’ll support you Carrie and I’ll do everything in my power to sort this mess out. But one thing is puzzling me. Why exactly are we all panicking?”
“What do you mean, why? Isn’t it obvious?”
“On the surface it is, yes, but we don’t actually know for sure what, if anything, the intruder actually saw and if they took any photos or not? And has anyone stopped to consider that they may have been too afraid to come out from behind the crash mats to see anything?”
“It’s possible.”Andrea agreed. “But they would have had to have been deaf as well not to work out what we were up to.”
“Okay. Then try this. Whoever it was must have been a really ardent fan of Carrie’s to risk it in the first place. Agreed? “
“Agreed.”
“So what if they’ve already decided to keep quiet out of loyalty? They’ve already had several hours to go running to the press but we’ve heard zip. Don’t you think that’s strange? I would have thought the minute the photos landed on an editor’s desk the phones would have been ringing off the hook, but we haven’t heard a thing!”
“So they’ve decided to wait a while and enjoy the piccies in private.”Andrea said. “That doesn’t mean anything and I doubt if anyone can keep a secret like that forever! If they do have pictures then I reckon it’s only a matter of time before they blab. The lure of all that money will see to that if nothing else. And what about Carrie? Do you really think she wants to spend the rest of her days wondering when it’s all going to come out? If I was her I’d come out now under my own volition and ruin any chance of the photographers turning into a full scale embarressment.”
Carrie agreed with her. As far as she could recall loads of celebrities had come out successfully and without damaging their careers. The public had been surprised of course - that was only to be expected - but afterwards they’d just shrugged and got on with it. Their love of the ‘stars’ music or films not diminished by the fact they were gay. Why would it be any different for her?
Because, she answered herself, like it or not, you are a sex symbol and thanks to the papers, that’s precisely how the world perceives you. You dress to thrill, you flirt, you play up to the guys when they make stupid, suggestive remarks. Delivering exactly what they expect. Carrie Shilling, movie star. Potentially accessible to every red-blooded male.
Except she wasn’t. She was gay and no matter how often she told herself everything would be alright, there was still that nagging doubt that admitting her sexuality could bring the whole lot crashing down around her ears.
“Carrie?”
She looked up.
“We were just wondering what you would like to do?”Carmichael said. “Do you want to come out? Or would you rather try and keep a lid on it for the time being?”
Carrie shrugged. “I wish I knew. I can see the benefits of going public but I can also see the downside as well..”
“Well, I think you should just be honest.”Amanda cut in. “You haven’t been this happy for a long time and I truly believe that when your fans see how happy you are, they will be happy for you. The people who go to see your films don’t go because they think you’re straight, they go because they like your work and they know they’re going to enjoy themselves. Okay, so maybe there will be some who will be disappointed at having their little fantasies knocked for six, but I bet you gain more admirers than you loose. Being gay may not be as taboo as it used to be, but it still takes guts to go against the grain and I believe people will appreciate that. Look them in the eye, Carrie. Be proud of what you are and be proud of what you have with Andrea, and if anyone doesn’t like it – well they can always go and dribble over Kate Beckinsale or whatever.”
Andrea clapped.
Carmichael attempted to do the same, but simply spilt his coffee, and while Amanda was admonishing him and rushing around trying to mop up the mess, he persuaded Carrie to join him in the lounge, where sitting side by side on the sofa they drafted out a press release. Sealing it with a brief hug and the promise that Carmichael would deliver the message with as much care and sensitivity as he could manage.
Carrie was relieved. She hadn’t been relishing the thought of having to face the plethora of cameras herself, but after Carmichael had left and she’d had time to think about it, she began to wonder if it might not have been better to make this particular announcement herself?
Especially when several hours later- as she was picking desolately at her evening meal- Carmichael had called from the studio to say it was done. The tone of his voice making it sound as though an execution had just taken place and his advise to turn on the TV to see how the media would react making her want to run and hide behind her biggest cushion. Then she’d had serious doubts.
But it was too late to do anything about it now.
A knock at her study door startled her back to the present and gazing at it Carrie wished whoever it was would go away. She didn’t need company right now. Not when her whole life felt like it was in the balance and her career potentially on the verge of going straight down the pan. No! What she needed was to be left alone. To think. To worry. To tie herself up in bloody knots!
The knock came again, and when it was swiftly followed by the sound of Amanda’s voice, she knew there was no point in resisting. Anyone else might have given up after at time, but Amanda? She was probably out there with a Thermos flask and a round of sandwiches.
“What is it?”She called out, not caring if she sounded rude. “I’m really not in the mood for talking Amanda.”
“Good job I don’t want a chat then. All I need is for you to stop sulking and come out for a second! I’ve something to show you that might make you feel a whole lot better.”
Sighing, Carrie heaved herself out of the chair and went to open the door. There was little point in arguing. Amanda had the gold medal when it came to persistance and she knew that if she didn’t make at least a perfunctory effort to acquiesce to Amanda’s wishes, the housekeeper would merely stand there until she starved her out or worry her to such an extent that she emerged purely to throttle her.
She was surprised, however, to find Amanda standing there with flour all over her apron.
“I know. I know.”Amanda said, the moment Carrie raised an eyebrow at the state of her appearance. “I was right in the middle of a batch of scones. But you really do have to come and see this.”
And taking Carrie by the hand, she led her towards the back of the house and the monitor room, where through the o
pen door Carrie heard the whine and screech of the fax machine as it churned out its latest offering before immediately ringing again.
The sound made Carrie’s heart sink and she wondered what cruel trick Amanda was playing by forcing her to hear confirmation of the fact that she’d just made the biggest blunder in her entire life.
But as she walked in, her fears were momentarily knocked aside by the certainty that the fax machine was somehow malfunctioning and that was why Amanda had dragged her over, for reams of paper were lying everywhere. On the table, on the floor, even draped over the backs of chairs, whilst the fax machine rang and rang, happily spewing out even more.
“It’s been doing this for ages!”Andrea grinned, upon seeing her enter. “And they’re pretty much all saying the same thing! Take a look.”
The machine churned again and Carrie ripped the fax free, noticing at once that it was from the desk of a major television company. Cringing, she read the first few lines, certain she was about to read how disgusted they were with her, but instead finding herself reading a message full of praise and good wishes. The chief executive stating how much he admired her courage and honestly and how he was very much looking forward to working with her again.
Carrie was stunned.
“See?”Andrea said, shifting the latest pile from her lap to the desk. “Told you you had nothing to worry about. And okay, I admit, we have had one or two less than flattering missives amongst this lot, but they’ve largely been from people you’ve refused to do business with in the past. Most have been really supportive.”
Carrie couldn’t speak. Instead she reached for another fax and then another, her eyes filling with tears as she gradually came to realise her career wasn’t in ruins, her reputation not in tatters. Instead she was reading an outpouring of kindness and support and outright insistance that being gay was not the self inflicted disaster she’d imagined it would be. Her friends and colleagues genuinely didn’t seem to care and in fact, most of them seemed to think more of her because she had been so honest. It was all very humbling.
Amanda handed her a tissue. “Don’t blame you for crying.”She said. “I’ve had a little grizzle myself, but you might want to hang onto those tears for a bit.”
And leaving Andrea to continue doing battle with mountains of paper, she took Carrie’s hand again and led her through to the kitchen, where through the rain spotted window, she could just make out the figure of Carmichael at the end of the driveway. A huge golfing umbrella sheltering him from the rain as he supervised the unloading of dozens of bouquets.
“He’s been out there for at least an hour.”Amanda stated. “But everytime he tries to come in another load arrives. Interflora must be having a field day.”
“But who are they from?”Carrie asked increduously, watching Carmichael set down another huge bunch of red Roses besides one of yellow Carnations.
“An assortment of movies stars, studio bigwigs and television people apparently and from Belinda Cross. She’s sent three -so far. The rest are from your fans. And they’ve been arriving by the dozen. So all in all, I’d say there isn’t that much to worry about. Someone obviously still loves you.”
The rain eventually gave up that evening. Leaving the night unexpectedly calm and the sky filled with stars.
In the lounge, Carrie sat by the fire, watching the flames dance and flicker and waiting for Andrea to return from the kitchen where she’d gone to fetch a fresh bottle of wine.
The day had been extremely long, and looking back she seemed to have spent most of it either crying or close to tears, overcome by the sheer amount of support and kindness directed towards her. But none of that explained the knot currently growing in her stomach and as she stared at the red and yellow flames and reflected on how lucky she’d been, she again wondered if she was doing the right thing?
Was now really the right time to tell Andrea?
“I brought nibbles as well.”Andrea said, returning from the kitchen with a bottle of wine tucked under one arm and several packets of snacks under the other. “That’s if we can taste anything above the smell of all these flowers.”
Carrie smiled apologetically. “There are rather a lot aren’t there? But until this lot go off to the hospital in the morning, I’m afraid we’re kinda stuck with them. They are pretty though. People have been so kind.”
“They sure have.”Andrea said, ripping open a bag of crisps. “But clearly it hasn’t done much to put your mind at rest, so give. What’s bugging you babe?”
Carrie frowned at ther. “What’s Amanda been saying?”She asked. “I’ll crown her if she’s been sticking her nose in again!”
“Hey, take it easy. Amanda hasn’t said anything. It’s just... well, I know what I’m like when something’s bugging me. I do a lot of staring into space. And seeing as that’s exactly what you’ve been doing for most of this evening, I wondered what was up?”
“You know me too well.”Carrie said, taking her hands. “And I admit, there is something that’s been bugging me.”
“So..”
“So I’ve been dreading telling you.”
“Sounds serious.”
“It is, in a way. The thing is, I want to apologise for being such a selfish cow. It’s just that lately all I seem to have thought about is how the news that I’m gay will affect my life and I’ve hardly given a moment’s thought to how it will affect yours. But now I’ve had the chance to, it makes me feel sick. The press are going to have a field day with this Andrea. Who knows how long it will be before they start calling you Mrs. Shilling, or something worse? And I know it sounds incredibly big headed, but I know that’s what’s going to happen. I’ve seen it. No matter who they are or what they were before, the partner of the so called ‘celebrity’ always seems to loose their own identity and they just become some sort of horrible accessory. I don’t want that to happen to you Andrea. I love you and I can’t bear the thought of the press ripping you to bits. But you know what they’re like. The newspapers won’t want pictures of us happy and in love, they’ll want pictures of us either fucking or tearing each other to bits, preferably in public. And I know you’re going to say that will never happen, but it might. You don’t know what it’s like! The press can be so bloody cruel sometimes and the pressure they put on a relationship enormous, and I don’t want to see you unhappy just because you’re with me. So I guess what I’m trying to say, and probably making a piss poor job of it is that, if you want to leave and just get out right now before everything goes haywire, I’ll understand. I’ll be heartbroken and I’ll cry buckets, but I won’t try to stop you and I won’t try to make things difficult for you once you’ve gone.”
Andrea squeezed her hand. “Oh, babe.”She said. “I appreciate what you’re saying and for the most part I would have to agree with you. But don’t you think I’ve already thought about all this myself? I’m a bodyguard remember and you’re not my first client. I’ve seen for myself how spiteful and destructive the press can be and I know what they’re capable of doing. But I still want to give us a try. More than anything. I believe in us Carrie. I love you, and I know you love me and as far as I’m concerned that’s all that matters. The press can print what they like, I really don’t care All I want is to be with you.”
Sitting on the floor in front of the tele, Isobel could neither settle to her scrapbook or to what was showing on the screen. Instead, all she could think about was what she’d seen at the leisure center and how it was keeping her awake at night.
The darkness of her ceiling the perfect canvas on which to project her memories of the two of them screwing as the thought of their naked bodies entwined around each other became too vivid for sleep to come and steal her away. Not that she was complaining. She wanted to remember. While it was still fresh in her mind.
The only downside was the fact that the stupid bitch had felt the need to announce her sexuality so soon afterwards, th
ough it was obvious to see why she’d done it. She was scared she would running to the gutter press and spill everything, but it had never been her intention to do so. Instead her plans had leaned more towards the idea of blackmail and forcing her to meet face to face, where she would enjoy hearing her beg and promise anything for Isobel not to tell what she had seen at the gym.
But all that was gone now, thanks to that pompous agent appearing on tele and opening his big trap.
Still, there was one consolation. Now the press had hold of the story, it could only be a matter of time before the pressure became too much for them and they split up.
And she would be free again.
Above her head, the TV announced the evening news and shaking herself free of her reverie Isobel stared up at the screen and watched Boscastle in Cornwall drown under a tidal wave of flood water. The filthy cascade tearing down the streets, upending both cars and trees as it went and forcing dozens of people to climb onto rooftops, helpless to do anything but watch their homes and their livelihood wash away beneath them.
Sighing, Isobel wondered why no one had thought to put up flood barriers and yawning she paid no heed to the following item about interest rates.
Nor did she pay any attention to the next story, and busy picking at her nails, she almost missed the bulletin she did want to see.
Carrie Shilling’s house. Filling the screen. The initial pictures clearly taken from a helicopter which soared over the roof and gardens before the view switched to a ground based camera fixed upon the front gates and a reporter, surrounded by dozens of bouquets, as he talked earnestly into the lens.
Isobel couldn’t believe her eyes. What the hell was going on? Where were the hordes of disillusioned fans besieging the gates? Where were the banners and cries of outrage at Carrie having turned out to be a dyke? And what the fuck were all those bloody flowers? This wasn’t what she’d imagined! This wasn’t the way her plan was supposed to go. How could she force a meeting now when the cow clearly wasn’t suffering in the slightest? She probably didn’t give a toss now if the whole flamin’ world knew what she’d been up to in the gym. Shit! She had nothing. Nothing!
