Cruel Venus

by Susan Lewis

  ‘Oh God,’ Allyson groaned, suddenly realizing her head was throbbing. ‘It’s not true. It’s not true. Please God, don’t let it be true.’

  Shelley watched her lean back and close her eyes. She was going to have to confront the truth sooner or later, but to tell her before a recording wasn’t a good idea. She could go to pieces, and when the dust finally settled Shelley knew that Allyson wouldn’t thank her for that. Besides, it was Bob’s place to tell her, if he could find the guts.

  ‘I think Tessa listens in to my phone calls with Bob,’ Allyson said.

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Something she said earlier.’ She returned her eyes to Shelley’s. ‘Do you think she’s strange? No, I don’t mean that. What I mean is, do you think there’s something I’ve missed about her? Something that’s not all sweetness and light, the way I thought it was.’

  Leaning forward, Shelley took one of Allyson’s hands between her own. ‘Ally, this is just a minor hiccup,’ she said. ‘You’ll be past it in a couple of days. A couple of weeks at the most.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ Allyson said, suppressing a shudder, ‘because the truth is, it’s frightening the hell out of me. I mean, we all know how blessed my life has been up to now. It’s like nothing ever goes really wrong for me. Oh we have our ups and downs with Bob’s fondness for the bottle, and his lapses of confidence, and we definitely went through it when his mother died a few years ago, as I’m sure you remember. And Daddy losing his marbles is tough, but he’s that age now and well … None of it’s very catastrophic, is it? I mean, there are people out there who’d trade their kids for problems like mine. The Golden Child, is what Bob sometimes calls me. Wealthy parents, good schools, influential friends, no struggle to get where I am. No bad experiences with boyfriends. No drugs, no illnesses, no real traumas to speak of at all. Maybe it’s my turn now.’

  ‘I never realized you were queuing up,’ Shelley teased.

  Despite herself Allyson laughed. Then after finishing off her juice, she said, ‘Let’s drop it. I know it’s not true, so let’s stop going over it or I’ll drive myself nuts.’

  ‘It’s a deal,’ Shelley said. ‘And a good change of subject would be to tell you what Stella wanted to see me about yesterday.’

  ‘Oh my God! I totally forgot!’ Allyson cried. ‘So?’

  ‘It’s a biggie,’ Shelley warned.

  Allyson’s heart lurched. She seemed blighted by a sense of impending disaster.

  ‘The old trout’s retiring,’ Shelley said.

  ‘No!’ Allyson responded. ‘Retiring? But she can’t be more than fifty. I know she looks ninety, but I always thought she’d go on till the Grim Reaper came to get her.’

  Shelley’s eyebrows rose. ‘Apparently he’s on his way.’

  Allyson looked stunned. ‘You mean she’s …’

  Shelley nodded. ‘The big C. She wants to spend what time she has left travelling with her husband.’

  ‘God, I don’t know what to say,’ Allyson mumbled. ‘I feel awful now that I never managed to make myself like her.’

  ‘You’re not alone,’ Shelley reminded her. ‘No-one likes her. I don’t think she even likes herself very much. But I’ve got to admit, I felt pretty sad after she told me. Somehow the world’s not going to be the same without her.’

  They sat quietly for a while, until Allyson said, ‘Did she tell you how long she’s got?’

  ‘Six months, maybe less.’

  ‘Oh God, this is horrible news,’ Allyson groaned. ‘And I don’t know what’s come as the biggest shock, that she’s dying, or that I care.’

  Shelley laughed. ‘I know how you feel,’ she said. ‘She’s leaving at Christmas, but it’s all hush-hush for now. She knows I’m telling you, though. She asked me to so’s you’d have enough time to practise the dance you’re going to do on her grave.’

  ‘No! She didn’t say that.’

  Shelley grinned.

  ‘She did. It’s just like her. Oh hell, I actually think I’m going to miss her.’

  ‘There’s more,’ Shelley said. ‘She told me that the company’s been sold. We’ve known for ages it was in the offing, but now, apparently, it’s happened. It won’t be announced for a while yet though.’

  ‘Oh God, I just know I’m not going to like what’s coming next,’ Allyson muttered.

  ‘You might not be so disappointed. So she says, it’s been bought by Leisure and Media Inc.’

  ‘The American cable company?’

  ‘Anglo-American,’ Shelley corrected. ‘It’s based in the States, but it’s owned by Nick and Mark Reiner, who, I believe, are both British.’

  Allyson screwed up her nose. ‘I’ve got a feeling I’ve met one of them,’ she said.

  ‘You interviewed Mark. He’s the one who bought Rowcliffe House in Devon and spent something in the region of five million quid restoring it.’

  ‘Good God!’ Allyson blurted. ‘The one with the alcoholic wife?’

  ‘The very same.’

  ‘I’m trying to work out whether this is good news or bad?’ Allyson said, getting up to start sorting through the clothes rail. ‘I wonder if Jackie’s already picked me out something for today.’

  ‘Personally I think it’s good,’ Shelley responded.

  ‘I’m trying to remember what he looks like,’ Allyson said.

  ‘Not typically handsome, but certainly passable. Taller than me, incredibly powerful of course and …’ She let the sentence hang.

  Allyson turned round, a canny smile growing on her face.

  Shelley was smiling too.

  ‘Filthy rich,’ Allyson grinned. ‘Wow, this could be good news, provided he’s managed to dump the dipso wife.’ She immediately turned to the window and looked out at the sky. ‘Oh God, please forgive what I said about dumping the wife. I didn’t mean to tempt fate. Honestly.’

  Shelley was laughing as she got to her feet. ‘If he is available,’ she said, ‘he’s going to be a mighty big fish to land.’

  ‘That’s what they say about you,’ Allyson reminded her.

  ‘Ah, but what they don’t know about me,’ Shelley responded, ‘is that I keep getting thrown back.’

  The door closed behind her, leaving Allyson with a fading smile and a growing wish that she could do something to change Shelley’s luck with men. Not that Shelley was likely to accept any help, indeed this was as far as she would ever go towards admitting she had a problem on that front. Though in Allyson’s opinion, the problem wasn’t actually Shelley’s, it belonged to the men she got involved with. They were all too often intimidated by her, wanting to dominate her or reduce her to a level they considered inferior to their own, and Shelley just wasn’t the kind of woman ever to stand for that, which was good for Shelley. But it had to be a lonely existence, having so few relationships and none that had ever worked. However, with any luck Mark Reiner would change all that, provided, of course, he was free. But she didn’t want to get into the wife-dumping thing again, so she settled for reminding herself that if it didn’t work out for Shelley and Mark, which was another journey her imagination was zooming off down the road with before anyone had fired the pistol – but if it didn’t work out, at least Shelley had the programme which was like her baby, her lover, her life and ambition all wrapped up into one.

  It meant the same to Allyson too, for they’d started it together, had developed it into what it was now, and it was as much a part of their identities as it was of their lives. God only knew what they’d do without it, or even who they’d be. And right now, with so much uncertainty going on around her, Allyson was realizing the truth of Shelley’s belief that the programme was their own personal refuge for when life got really tough or out of control.

  Allyson was already in the make-up room by the time Tessa returned from lunch. There was a chance she’d been with Bob, because he hadn’t been in his office when Allyson called, though the sub who’d answered the phone had said he was over at the Arsenal ground
, which could easily have been true.

  The make-up artist was dusting on the finishing layer of powder when Tessa came bounding into the room, flushed and breathless, and endearingly puppy-like, which was how she generally looked when she wanted to share some good news with Allyson, her ‘favourite person in the whole wide world!’

  ‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ she gasped. ‘They said upstairs you were looking for me.’

  Allyson eyed her, then realizing the make-up girl was watching, she said, ‘I was worried. Are you OK?’

  Tessa nodded. ‘Oh yes, I’m fine. But I’d really like to talk to you when you’ve got a minute. I’ve got something to tell you.’

  Allyson’s mouth dried. So she did have some news. Whatever it was, Allyson didn’t want to hear it. ‘Go and check on things upstairs, then meet me in my dressing room,’ she said. ‘Have any of the guests arrived yet?’ she asked Julian, the floor assistant, as he came in behind Tessa.

  ‘Lionel Godfrey’s in the green room. His wife’s on her way. Still waiting for Terry Black. Here’s your mic pack,’ he added, handing it over. ‘Hey, Tessa, are you coming to see the band tonight?’

  ‘You mean your band?’ she said. ‘I’d love to. Where are you playing?’

  ‘The Man in the Moon at World’s End. Eight o’clock.’

  ‘I’ll be there,’ she promised, and skipped off.

  Boy, she was in a good mood. Allyson watched the way Julian looked after her. He was a good-looking kid, shoulder-length blond hair, pale lashes fringing his eyes, and a slim wiry physique. He was probably around Tessa’s age, and obviously besotted. Was there a man on the planet who wasn’t? Still, with any luck, this one would whisk Tessa off into a wild and passionate romance that required far more energy than a man Bob’s age could possibly muster.

  Ten minutes later Tessa knocked on the dressing-room door and put her head round. She waited for Allyson to finish on the phone, then said, ‘Ally, you look fantastic. That dress is so cool. Whose is it?’

  ‘Bruce Oldfield’s,’ Allyson answered, tilting her head to one side as she looked in the mirror. It was a short black cocktail dress with a sequined bodice, silver chain straps and a chiffon skirt. It did look good, especially with her hair in a French plait.

  ‘God, I wish I was as slim as you,’ Tessa sighed. ‘Not that I could ever afford anything like that. Anyway, I’m just dying to tell you my news.’

  Though Allyson was irritated by the way the girl was brushing that morning’s eavesdrop aside, she wasn’t about to get into a scene when she was due in studio in fifteen minutes. So doing her best to strongarm some friendliness past the misgivings, she said, ‘So, what is it?’

  ‘I was late back to the office,’ Tessa said, her lucid dark eyes shining like stars, her cheeks filling up with pleasure, ‘because I went to have lunch with my boyfriend and we got engaged!’ She thrust her left hand forward to show off the jazzy little diamond on her third finger.

  Allyson was reeling. Surely to God she wasn’t talking about Bob!

  ‘Isn’t it pretty?’ Tessa insisted, her big fat cheeks as red as tomatoes by now. ‘It was a complete surprise. He chose it himself.’

  ‘It’s lovely,’ Allyson agreed weakly. Then, laughing to cover her awkwardness, she said, ‘I’m sorry, it’s just, well I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend. You’ve never mentioned him before.’

  ‘I know, but you’re so busy and you’ve already got so many people ringing you up to talk about their love lives and everything, that I didn’t want to bore you with mine. Anyway, his name’s Phil and he’s an interior designer. He’s hoping to get enough money together to start his own business. Meantime, he’s working for a company over in Battersea.’

  Allyson started to laugh, and knew she was a touch hysterical when she almost offered to finance the wonderful Phil’s dream herself. ‘Well, I can’t wait to meet him,’ she said. ‘He’s a lucky chap.’

  Tessa’s smile was dazzling. ‘You’ll love him,’ she said. ‘He’s just the most special person. You’ll come to the wedding, won’t you?’

  ‘Have you already set a date?’ Allyson said, surprised.

  ‘No, but when we do. It would mean the world to me if you were there.’

  There was a tap on the door and Shelley came in.

  ‘Shell,’ Allyson cried. ‘You’ll never guess. Tessa’s just got engaged.’

  Shelley turned a chill gaze on Tessa. ‘So I heard,’ she said. ‘Everyone’s talking about it upstairs.’

  ‘Isn’t it great?’ Allyson said, taking a script from the PA who raced in.

  ‘Ready to go in ten minutes,’ the PA called over her shoulder, as she raced out again.

  ‘I want a quick word with you about the Night Cap,’ Shelley said, holding the door open for Tessa to leave.

  Taking the hint, Tessa left.

  ‘You didn’t congratulate her,’ Allyson protested, lifting up her skirt to slot the microphone’s battery pack in the back of her tights.

  ‘Here, let me,’ Shelley said, putting down a pile of scripts and turning Allyson round. ‘We’ve just heard that Terry Black’s wife’s been awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. She’s the writer Anna Godling, in case you’d forgotten. Hunting Black Daisies, Shooting Alice Cain. Ross is doing a quick background on her, he’ll be down in a minute to fill you in. He’ll also confirm the title that won her the award. I’m pretty sure it was Hunting Black Daisies. Tell me you’ve read it and I’ll kiss your feet.’

  Allyson lifted a foot onto a nearby chair. ‘Off you go,’ she said, picking up the phone as it rang.

  ‘Ally? I got a message you were trying to reach me?’

  ‘Oh hi darling. We’ll have to postpone our cosy night in, I’m afraid. We’ve been invited to Terry Black’s opening night. That doesn’t feel secure,’ she said to Shelley who was still trying to fix the mic pack.

  ‘OK. Where and what time?’ Bob answered.

  ‘I think it’s the National, but I’ll check and call you back. Got to go now, I’m due in studio.’ She put the phone down. ‘I’ve got it,’ she said to Shelley, who was pushing the wire around Allyson’s waist and up between her breasts. ‘You going tonight?’ she said, clipping the tiny radio mic onto her dress.

  ‘Allyson, can we have you in studio now?’ a voice boomed down the corridor.

  ‘On my way,’ she called back. Quickly picking up the phone, she buzzed through to Tessa. ‘Get the details for the play tonight and call Bob with them,’ she said.

  Shelley walked with her to the studio, then after stopping off at the green room to greet the show’s guests, she went upstairs to the gallery to watch the recording. On the way she popped into her office and was on the point of leaving again when she noticed Tessa standing over one of the subs, obviously taking in everything he said, then asking the relevant questions to increase her knowledge of reporting and production. Allyson herself had championed this unofficial training and Tessa’s remarkable progress had been the source of much pride on Allyson’s part, and encouragement on the part of everyone else. Quite amazing really, what charisma and sparkle the girl had on screen, when she was so quiet and unassuming normally. Though she did have her moments, it was true, especially when she laughed, for it was quite infectious, and despite her shy manner there was certainly nothing mousy about the way she looked, with all that shiny, shaggy black hair, and those big Bambi eyes. She was also quite popular, which wasn’t so surprising, for she seemed to have very little ego and a kind of easy, interested quality about her that made people like her. That was provided, of course, one set aside the fact that she was having an affair with Allyson Jaymes’s husband, but most people didn’t know that, at least not for certain, and for everyone, including Shelley, it was hard to believe that anyone would take such a monstrous bite out of the hand that had so lovingly and generously fed her.

  Though Shelley almost never indulged in gossip herself, she couldn’t help wondering what, if anything, the others might know about the bash
ful and bumptious little Tessa’s life outside Soirée. All Shelley knew was where the girl lived, that she had dropped out of university after the first year, and that if she had a family she never discussed them. Much like the fiancé that had suddenly materialized like a rabbit out of a hat. Had anyone heard anything about him before?

  Responding to someone yelling her name, Shelley picked up her clipboard and headed off towards the gallery. As she passed Tessa she was aware of the girl looking up, and felt those wide, innocent eyes moving with her all the way to the end of the room. Just before she disappeared Shelley turned back to look at her. As their eyes met Tessa did her usual blush and glanced away, returning her attention to the sub. She was going out later with a crew and one of the reporters to get some more training. How generous she must think Allyson, providing her not only with the background for a new career, but apparently with a fiancé too. Unless, of course, the mysterious Phil actually did exist. And if Shelley believed that she’d be in even bigger denial than Allyson, though without the excuse.

  Chapter 4

  LATER THAT EVENING Shelley was with a group of friends in a far corner of the crowded theatre bar when she saw Bob pressing a path towards her.

  ‘Hi, where’s Allyson?’ he said, raising his voice over the noise.

  ‘Backstage talking to Terry Black’s wife,’ Shelley answered. She turned to the people she was with. ‘I expect you’ve all met Bob Jaymes.’

  Most of them had, either through Allyson, or through their own professional fields, for they were all connected to The Business.

  ‘Can I get anyone a drink?’ Bob offered.

  ‘It’s champagne, wine, water or juice,’ Shelley informed him. ‘I’ll come and give you a hand.’

  As they made their way through the crowd Bob kept very close behind her. ‘You’re looking sensational, as always,’ he murmured in her ear.

  Shelley said nothing, just kept working her way through to the bar. Bob Jaymes was a man she knew better than most, so she was very well aware of his many faces, and tragically few of them were as attractive as the one on his shoulders. Were Allyson not married to him then she might have a better view of the overall picture too, but what marriage would last more than a month if a woman didn’t blind herself to her husband’s idiocies and weaknesses, much less his philandering and betrayal?