Valentine watched as Lily was surrounded by friends, then she gestured to Robbie to come over. 'Let's go outside and have that cigarette,' she said as soon as he had bounded over eagerly, making Valentine think of the Andrex puppy, even though at over six foot Robbie was not in the least roly poly – it must be the hair, she thought, and the eyes. She got up and Robbie was quick to put his arm round her. 'Don't let Lily see us,' she whispered. 'And on the way out, grab my drink, will you?' She wanted to forget what Lily had told her, wanted oblivion. Jack was not coming.
* * *
Outside the air was cool on her bare skin. Valentine shivered and choked slightly on the cigarette Robbie had lit for her. She hadn't had one for ages and even as she inhaled, she regretted it. She was going to feel so rough in the morning. Robbie took off his denim jacket and put it round her shoulders.
'Thanks, you're such a sweetheart,' she said.
'So, do you want to come back to my place?' Robbie asked tentatively. 'Everyone's out and I've got a bottle of vodka.'
'Robbie that's very sweet of you, but—'
'Stop telling me I'm sweet!' Robbie cut across her angrily. 'I'm not sweet! I really like you, Valentine – I have done for the longest time.' He stood in front of her. 'I'm in love with you.'
Perhaps it was the prisoner/governor fixation? Robbie had really taken their role play very seriously – a little too seriously, perhaps. How was she going to get out of this one? She wished for the millionth time that she could have been more like Lauren; she'd have told Robbie to shut up – no hard feelings.
'But you just want Jack, don't you?' Robbie said bitterly.
There was no point in pretending she didn't know exactly what he meant, so Valentine just nodded and whispered, 'Yes.' And she handed Robbie back his jacket and went back inside. As if reflecting her mood the band were playing 'God only knows.' A drunken, heartbroken wreck apparently, Valentine answered to the line God only knows what I'd be without you.
Lily took her arm and frogmarched her to Nathan and Lauren. 'Give this girl water and nothing else,' she ordered before joining Frank on the dance floor.
'Finished with toy boy already then?' Lauren demanded, ignoring the order and pouring Valentine a generous glass of white wine.
Valentine picked it up and took a large swig, then grimaced and said, 'You're not supposed to mix the grain and the grape, are you? Where does vodka come from?'
'Well it's not from a grape, is it?' Lauren shot back. 'You don't hear them say it's been a fine year for the Smirnoff grapes, do you? Anyway, answer my question: what have you done with Robbie? Is it the start of a beautiful friendship or a one-night stand?'
'I'm not like you, Lauren. I don't do one night stands, as you know.' She glanced at Nathan. 'Oh sorry Nathan, I didn't mean that to sound like it did.'
Nathan rolled his eyes. 'Let's hope Lauren doesn't do them anymore either.'
'Well make sure you keep me happy then,' Lauren replied, but she gave him a kiss to show she didn't really mean it. God, she really had mellowed. 'Come on, let's dance.' Lauren stood up and grabbed Nathan's hand. 'Will you be OK?' he asked, trailing after Lauren.
Valentine nodded and held up the bottle of wine. 'We'll be fine.'
She was back to feeling drunk. Lily's shock outburst had sobered her up temporarily, but now the units had caught up with her. Everything around her was ever so slightly out of focus, but that seemed like a lovely thing right now. The table lamps gave off a warm, fuzzy orange glow, like fireflies she imagined, not that she'd ever seen any in real life. Or did she mean glow worms? The music was making her feel very maudlin. She'd just sit here nice and quietly, drink her wine and go home. She took another sip and thought of how the scene would look in a film. There she'd be, the talented but tragically underrated actress, unlucky in love, drinking herself into oblivion, in a jazz club. It seemed very Billy Holiday. Very glamorous, though she probably should be smoking to complete the picture.
'There's nothing glamorous in drinking yourself into oblivion.' Lily was standing by the table with a cup of black coffee, which she placed in front of Valentine. 'Cirrhosis of the liver isn't pretty. You turn yellow eventually and you've always said that yellow isn't your colour. And you're right; you'd look bloody dreadful in it.'
'LilyIloveyoubutgivemeabreak.' She'd gone back to the slurry mad drunken speaking. But then everything faded into the background because there, standing next to Lily, was Jack.
'Happy anniversary Lily,' he said, putting his arm round her and kissing her. 'I'm sorry I'm so late.'
'You're here – that's all that matters,' Lily said, smiling. 'Anyway I'm sure you've got things to discuss with Valentine,' she said meaningfully. 'Do get the girl to drink some coffee.' Then she left them. As ever, Lily was about as subtle as a herd of marauding elephants. 'Subtlety – never Lily's strong point I remember,' Jack said as he sat down next to Valentine. 'Fleming, are you drunk?' So he was back to calling her Fleming again.
'Very.' And freed of any inhibitions, Valentine plunged straight in. 'Please sayyouforgivemeaboutwhatIdid. Iregretitsomuch.'
'Pardon?' Jack said, clearly lacking Lily's ability to understand drunken gibberish.
Valentine took a deep breath, and spoke as deliberately as she could. 'I am drunk but even if I wasn't I would still say this: please tell me you can forgive me for what I did.'
'So we're not going to do the polite "how are you?" "Oh I'm just fine," bollocks routine we've been doing for the last month,' Jack replied, gazing at her – or at least she thought he was, but there seemed to be two of him right now. 'I think I do forgive you.'
Now was the moment to tell him. She would dive into the unknown. 'I've got something else to tell you. I don't care if it messes up the filming; I have got to tell you.'
'No wait, I've got something to tell you.'
But neither of them got the chance to speak because just then there was a shriek of 'Jack! Darling,' and an all-too-familiar petite blonde raced towards the table. Tamara. Jack looked completely stunned to see her.
'Didn't you get my message?' he asked when Tamara finally stopped showering his face with kisses.
Talk about bad timing! Valentine thought bitterly. Now NTM was there she'd never know what Jack was about to tell her. But Jack didn't look at all pleased to see Tamara, and Valentine was sure she wasn't imagining this, even in her altered state.
'What message?' Tamara said brightly, 'I had to see you!' She gazed at him, clinging on to his arm and totally blanking Valentine. She had thought it wasn't possible to loathe NTM any more than she already did, but found a new depth to her feelings.
Jack coughed and looked awkward. 'You remember Valentine.'
Tamara turned her face and looked at Valentine with her huge blue eyes. 'Of course! I'm so sorry I didn't recognise you! You look so different. I can't work out what it is.' She narrowed her eyes and looked Valentine up and down. 'Oh I can see now! You've lost weight. Piers must be so relieved; I know he was terribly worried that you might have an eating disorder.'
Bitch. 'Oh, because I actually eat something?' Valentine replied.
Tamara ignored the sarcasm in her voice. 'But I'm sorry to hear it didn't work out between you. I know he took the fall-out pretty badly.'
'What the fuck are you on about?' Valentine demanded.
Tamara's eyes widened. 'I'm sure I don't need to remind you! How you threw Piers's offer of a film role back in his face, told him you wouldn't ever want to appear in one of his movies. How you were vicious to Olivia.' Tamara had the look of a cat playing with a mouse.
'I don't know what you're talking about, Tamara, or why you're getting off on saying things like this. But that is definitely not what happened.' Valentine got up.
'Are you OK?' Jack asked, looking at her with concern.
Valentine felt like a woman on the edge, but no way did she want to let on how much Tamara's words had upset her. 'Fine. I think I have a phone call to make. Could you tell Frank and Lily that I've had to go?' She was utterl
y stunned by Tamara's comments.
'Sure, let me get you a taxi,' Jack replied.
Valentine shook her head. 'I could do with a walk.' The night no longer seemed full of possibilities, but dead ends and dead hopes. How foolish she'd been to think that she could tell Jack how she felt. It was all pointless. He was with Tamara, end of story. She found herself walking back to Piccadilly. She reached the corner of Haymarket and looked up. Lily's golden divers were tumbling through the sky. Now they did not seem such a symbol of hope. They were falling into the darkness and there was nothing to catch them. But suddenly Jack was by her side, out of breath from running to catch up with her.
'I wanted to see you were OK. Lily thought you might be here. I'm really sorry you had to hear that from Tamara.' He hadn't put on his jacket in his rush to catch up with her and was just wearing a white shirt and jeans. How Valentine longed to put her arms around him! If she could just hold him again then maybe she could be diving into hope and not despair. He reached out his hand and brushed a tear away from her cheek. 'Hey, don't cry. I'm sure you can sort things out with Piers. Tamara was most likely exaggerating; she has that tendency.'
'I'm not sure that I'm crying about that,' Valentine replied. 'Look up there: Lily's favourite sculptures.'
Jack followed her gaze upwards. 'They're perfect.'
'If only life could be like that,' Valentine replied. 'Simple, straightforward, no darkness, no shadows.'
'It's not like that though, is it?' Jack replied. 'It's dark, shadows, mess.' He looked back at her. This was the moment to tell him that she loved him.
'I'll get you that taxi.' And within what seemed a matter of seconds he had hailed her a taxi, was seeing her safely in and walking swiftly away.
Valentine watched him go. The taxi was stuck in traffic. If this was a film, Valentine thought, he'd turn round and run back to me and tell me that he loved me. He didn't turn round.
She expected that the late night would have taken its toll on Lily and Frank, but even so she was shocked by how drawn Frank looked when he opened the door to her the next day.
'Hi Frank, fantastic night wasn't it? I think.' Valentine winced. Even with painkillers her head was still throbbing, as if sadistic gnomes were drilling into her skull. But it wasn't just the hangover making her feel so bad. She kept replaying the events of the day before in her head. She was hoping that Lily might inject some optimism into her about her relationship with Jack, as well as have some wisdom to offer about what to do about Piers.
'Come in, V. I'm sure Lily would love to see you. She's in her bedroom.'
'Oh, drank a little too much champagne like me?' Valentine asked, following Frank through to Lily's bedroom, or rather boudoir because her room was a fabulous mix of burgundy velvet curtains, red and purple silk throws and an amazing gold headboard on her bed, shaped like a scallop. Lily looked tiny lying on the bed and not at all well.
'Valentine,' she croaked, 'why did you rush off like that? We were worried.'
Valentine quickly filled them in on Tamara's comments about Piers.
'You must contact him; don't leave it. I'm sure there's an explanation. Now tell me about Jack.'
'He said he could forgive me for what I did, but then Tamara turned up.' She shrugged. 'Bad timing.'
Valentine had hoped to pour her heart out to Lily, remembering how feisty she had been the night before, but Lily seemed exhausted. 'I expect he's going to end things with Tamara and then he'll be free to see you again. He's very honourable like that.'
Valentine shook her head sadly. 'I doubt it; he didn't give me any sign that he still has feelings for me.'
'Don't say that!' Lily said with feeling. 'I know he loves you and you love him.'
'I'm not sure,' Valentine replied, but didn't want to push it. Lily seemed so weak.
'Don't throw this chance of happiness away; life is just too short.' Lily repeated what she had said the night before. 'My ten years with Frank weren't enough.' Valentine frowned. Lily sounded so final.
'But you've got years ahead of you both,' she replied.
'No I haven't.' Her eyes flicked up to Frank as if seeking reassurance. He nodded. 'I've got cancer; I'm dying. There, I've told you – such a relief.'
Valentine's eyes swam with tears. 'What do you mean? You can have treatment can't you?' She looked at Frank and Lily, appealing to them to tell her there was hope.
Lily shook her head. 'It's beyond all that. Ovarian cancer, so hard to detect and now it's too late. They offered me chemo, but even with that there was little chance. I'd rather leave this world as myself.' She reached out her hand and Frank took it. 'I'm going into a hospice today. Frank has been looking after me so beautifully but it's time. So you see why I've longed for you and Jack to get back together.'
'Oh Lily.' Valentine was crying so much that she couldn't speak anymore.
'Think of the divers!' Lily urged her. 'Dive into life.' And with that she closed her eyes and whispered, 'I'm sorry, I need to rest now.'
19
The Final Curtain
Valentine left Lily and Frank feeling completely shell-shocked. This couldn't be happening – not to Lily, vibrant, wonderful Lily with her zest for life. She spent the day with Lauren, who was equally devastated by the news. She rang Jack, who was on his way to Paris to film one of the episodes for the series, but only got his voicemail. She left a message explaining that Lily was seriously ill; it didn't seem the right moment to say 'and by the way I love you,' even though Lily's words about diving into life were a constant refrain in her head. She called Piers and left a garbled message saying that they needed to talk. Life suddenly seemed infinitely precious and even if Piers wanted nothing more to do with her, she wanted to give it one last go.
Frank returned from the hospice later that evening looking absolutely shattered. He had wanted to stay, but Lily had sent him home. Valentine and Lauren went down to his flat to keep him company. They tried to persuade him to eat something, but he resisted their efforts. In typical tough trooper Frank fashion he managed to joke that it was only because they were such bloody awful cooks. He let them make him mugs of strong tea instead and because his arthritis was especially painful Lauren rolled him several joints to see him through the night.
'I wish Lily had told us how ill she was,' Valentine told him, bringing him his third mug.
'She wanted things to be as normal as possible. She wanted everyone to see her as Lily the person and not Lily the cancer victim.' He rubbed a hand across his face. Valentine wished she could say something, anything to make him feel better, but what was there to say when the love of his life was dying?
'It must have been a strain on you, Frank, having to keep it to yourself,' Lauren put in.
'I just did what she wanted,' Frank said sadly. 'It was the least I could do for my girl.'
Now Valentine realised why Frank had fallen off the wagon that time. Her heart ached to think of the couple soldiering on, never once letting on how tough things were.
Neither Lauren nor Valentine could face going back up to their flat after seeing Frank, so they headed off to a pub round the corner. Jack still hadn't returned her calls – clearly filming was over-running. Nathan joined them and Valentine noticed that Lauren sat closer to him than usual, held his hand and didn't tease him quite so mercilessly. They all felt shaken up about Lily. By the time they walked home it was nearly midnight. Valentine was surprised to see that Frank's light was still on. She was about to ring his bell and check that he was OK when his door opened and Frank stood there in his elegant black silk pyjamas and red velvet smoking jacket – both presents from Lily, who believed that men should be just as stylish as women in the bedroom.
'V, I'm glad you're back. You've got a visitor.' Valentine followed Frank into his living room and to her great surprise discovered Piers sitting on the brown leather Chesterfield, smoking a massive joint.
'Oh God Frank, you haven't given him the strong stuff, have you?' Valentine asked. She didn't think s
he could cope with Piers being high on top of everything else. Frank shook his head.
'Valentine!' Piers got up, strode over to her and enfolded her in a tight hug. He must be high; he had never been that demonstrative before. 'I need to talk to you.' He no longer seemed the aloof, in-control movie director.
Valentine managed to prize the joint away from Piers and took him up to her flat. She was expecting him to be dismissive of the flat's bohemian and shabby appearance, but instead he exclaimed how much he loved all the different colours and didn't even complain when he sat on the dodgy spring in the sofa. Powerful stuff, Frank's weed.
'First of all, Valentine, I have to apologise for how you were treated in my house. Olivia had no right to say those things to you. She put a very different spin on what had happened and for a while I believed her.'
Valentine shrugged; in view of what was going on in the rest of her life Olivia seemed inconsequential. 'It doesn't matter.'
'It does matter! It matters very much. You're my daughter and Olivia had no right to sabotage our relationship because of her own insecurities.'
Valentine had never before heard Piers criticise Olivia. He stood up, reached inside his jacket and pulled out a bundle of letters. Valentine instantly recognised her mum's handwriting.
'When I got your message today I had a sudden thought and went through Olivia's private papers. I found the letters. She must have intercepted each one and hidden it from me. To think I could have known about you, that I could have seen you grow up! She kept me from you; it was such a wicked thing to do, I don't think I can be married to her anymore.' He seemed a broken man. 'And I found the confidentiality agreement she drew up for you to sign, believe me Valentine I would never have wanted you to sign anything like that. I'm proud that you are my daughter. I want the world to know. I was only cautious about you telling too many people at first because I didn't want the press to find out, but bugger that now! And of course I want you in my next film – that is if you still want to be.'
Valentine, grief-stricken about Lily, still longing for Jack, found it surprisingly easy to forgive Olivia; she didn't feel any anger towards her, just sadness for those lost years and pity for the woman who must have been desperate to do what she did. 'Piers – don't be too hard on her; she did it because she loved you, because she was devastated that she couldn't have a child. You have to forgive her.'
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