by Fern Britton
The male presenter chipped in: ‘Ah, but is she his girlfriend? There are reports, not denied by the palace, that she is an old family friend and that Louis turned up to support her at the opening night of Hats Off, Trevay! – a show that’s been staged in the hope of saving a theatre in Cornwall from demolition. And from the reviews in today’s papers, it is a hit.’
Jess found the remote control and pressed the mute button.
‘Look you two, I’m on a mission – Hutch’s orders. Louis, get up. You have five minutes before the press pack come slithering back and in that time I’ve got to get you down to Shellsand Bay. We have to walk down – all three of us, ideally – as if we’re just taking a stroll. On the beach, there will be a boat that’ll get you to safety.’
Neither Brooke nor Louis moved. ‘I’ve got a hell of a headache,’ Louis groaned.
Jess had had all she could take. On the floor she spotted a pair of jeans, which she assumed belonged to Louis; she picked them up, threw them at him and shouted, ‘Just DO IT!’
*
The second performance of any show usually lacks the lustre of the opening night. It was certainly the case for Hats Off, Trevay! Poor Ollie, having been bundled out of the back door and into the car parked in the lane at the side of the churchyard, had been driven off towards Newquay, where the driver, who needed to get back to Hutch, had to leave him. It had taken Ollie over an hour to get back to Trevay and his hotel room.
Once Jess had managed to get Louis to do as he was told, she and Brooke had joined him for the walk to the beach with Elsie and Ethel in tow. They’d watched as Louis was whisked off to safety in his boat. It was all just in the nick of time, because as the girls returned to Granny’s Nook the photographers were already gathering in their cars.
A few reporters had hung around all day and followed them to the theatre, but most abandoned the stakeout, knowing the story had gone cold.
The green room was agog. As Brooke walked in, a hush fell over the company.
‘It’s OK,’ said Brooke. ‘Yes, he was here. No, he’s not here now. And that’s all I’m going to say.’
Miss Coco was the first to speak. ‘My dear, I think it’s all very exciting and marvellous publicity for the show. Have you seen the reviews?’
All the critics, even the sniffier ones, had agreed that the show was perfect for a seaside audience and offered the hope that other crumbling end-of-the-pier theatres would save themselves in a similar fashion. Ollie, Brooke and Jess got sparkling critiques, but the undisputed star, all the papers agreed, was Colonel Stick. He’d been giving interviews all day and there was talk of an important publisher wooing him for his autobiography. When he arrived at 6.45 p.m. prompt, the Colonel was met with a resounding three cheers from the entire company.
35
Things settled down over the next few days. Ryan was back in LA, Louis had been given a dressing down by the powers that be and was on a very short leash. He was not going to be allowed out for some time. And Red made the papers declaring she was in love with a talented young female comedienne and that they intended to adopt children from around the world.
‘Hey, babe. I haven’t woken you, have I?’
Jess, who had been in bed only five minutes, shook off her sleepiness. ‘Of course not, darling. Are you OK? You don’t normally call me at this time.’
She could hear chatter and laughing coming through the satellites all the way from Hollywood.
‘Everything’s fine. I’m just off to the big studio do. You know the one I told you about?’
Jess didn’t know but blamed her tired memory. ‘Oh yes?’
‘Yeah. I just wanted you to know they’ve paired me up with Serena again. They’re going large on the PR for Venini and they want to milk our working relationship for all it’s worth.’
Jess settled back on her pillows. Bless Ryan for thinking of her and reassuring her. ‘That’s OK, honey. Have a great time. She’s a nice woman.’
‘Actually, she’s right next to me and wants a word.’
‘No, it’s OK—’
‘Hi, Tess! Thanks for lending me your man. I’ll look after him for you. I really need to get a Ryan of my own.’
‘Someone as gorgeous as you will have no problem.’
‘Oh, you’re sweet. I’ll pass you back. Bye!’
‘Bye …’
‘Jess, babe.’ It was Ryan again. ‘Gotta go. We’re at a pre-party and the limos are arriving.’
‘OK. Have a good time.’
They said their goodnights and Jess put the phone back on her bedside table. She rested her head on her soft pillow and allowed herself to drift off again. Her last conscious thought was, ‘Did Serena really just call me Tess?’
*
The following day was a Saturday and Trevay was heaving with holidaymakers. School was out for the summer and children and adults alike were as horses out of the trap: eyes shining, mouths grinning and feet, thrillingly, galloping to the box office.
The matinee was full and the audience appreciative. In the break between the afternoon and evening performance, the cast and crew decided to order in fish and chips and sit round the small television in the green room. There was a football match on, and Brooke and Jess, not being particular fans, took their food back to their dressing room and stretched out on their uncomfortable couch. As they were chatting there was a knock at the door and Jonathan stuck his head round. He’d taken a couple of days off to recharge his batteries and he was looking tanned and lean.
‘Jonathan, you look like you’ve had a holiday,’ said Brooke. ‘Did we knacker you that much?’
He laughed. ‘Yes. You are torture to work with!’ He plonked himself in a free chair and leaned over to pinch a handful of Jess’s chips. ‘Actually …’ he bit into one and fanned his mouth. ‘Cor, they’re hot! Actually, I nipped across to the South of France to meet a man about another job.’
‘Oh?’ chorused both women, more interested in their cod than anything else.
‘Yes. I’ve been asked to direct a revival of Noël Coward’s Blithe Spirit. It would start out of town and, with luck, go into the West End. It has two cracking female leads and one male lead, and I was thinking … who could I possibly cast?’
Neither woman spoke, not wanting to make fools of themselves if he meant them. Which they hoped he did.
Jonathan continued with mischief in his eyes, ‘So I wanted to ask you both …’
‘Yes …’
‘What you thought of … Ollie to play the male lead? Do you think he’d say yes? Of course it would be dependent on who he wanted to play the two female roles. It has to be someone he likes. Trusts …’
Both Brooke and Jess were sitting up a little straighter with wooden chip forks poised between greasy paper and greasy lips.
‘So …’ He leaned forward to pinch a bit of batter from Brooke’s portion. ‘So, Jess …’ Brooke’s eyes turned from Jonathan to her friend or rival. Jonathan continued, ‘When do you start filming again for Horse Laugh?’
Jess swallowed and put her fork down. ‘October to January, I think.’
‘So you’d be free February to May?’
‘Yes.’
‘And would you consider the role of Madame Arcati? Because I really couldn’t think of anyone who’d play her better.’
‘Gosh. Yes, I’d love to. I’d really love to.’
Brooke scrunched up her food in its paper and polystyrene package and threw it into the bin. ‘Congratulations!’ she said, trying to mean it. Then she added, ‘Jonathan, you’ll have another hit on your hands.’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ He looked at her teasingly. ‘It’s very much an ensemble piece, and if I don’t get the right actress to play Elvira, the ghost of the dead wife, it’ll be a disaster… . Brooke, I want you. You and Jess and Ollie are my dream team. Please say yes.’
Ollie found them all hugging and kissing. ‘I love a group hug.’ He put his arms around them as best he could. ‘Do I gather we’ve go
t our two leading ladies?’
‘We sure have,’ laughed Jonathan.
‘When did you hear about this?’ Brooke asked.
‘About five minutes before he came in and asked you. I’m thinking that tonight we need to celebrate. Dinner at the Starfish?’
‘On me,’ said Jonathan.
*
It was late and the restaurant was quiet when the happy party arrived. A very handsome, very camp waiter settled them into the table overlooking the familiar harbour view. A warm westerly wind ruffled the water and blew gently through the doors leading out to the terrace.
Brooke’s phone rang and she excused herself to take the call outside. Ollie left the table to go to his room and drop his bags. It left Jess and Jonathan together with Adam, the waiter. Jonathan ordered a bottle of Camel Valley Champagne.
Adam returned with the bottle and ice bucket and while he went through the rigmarole of showing the label to Jonathan and preparing to remove the cork he started to chat. ‘How’s the show going, Mr Mulberry?’
‘Very well so far, thank you.’
‘I’m hoping to see it on my day off.’
‘Let me know when that is and I’ll get you a pair of complimentary tickets.’
‘Really? That would be amazing. Thank you. I love the theatre.’
‘Do you go much?’ asked Jonathan.
Jess watched their conversation and body language very carefully. Was Adam flirting with Jonathan? Jonathan was showing no signs of discomfort. He was getting out his wallet and was passing Adam his business card.
‘Give me a call and we’ll sort something out.’
‘Thank you so so much.’
Adam, poured the champagne and touched Jonathan’s hand. ‘I can’t believe it.’
‘My pleasure,’ said Jonathan.
Jess was in no doubt now about Jonathan’s sexuality. She knew that she should be happy for him now that a little romance might be on the cards for him, but instead she felt annoyed. Before she had time to wonder why she might feel this way, Brooke appeared from the terrace, her eyes shining and her face flushed. ‘Do you mind awfully if I run out on you? Louis has just phoned. He’s going to be in Pendruggan in half an hour …’
‘Oh, how lovely!’ beamed Jess.
‘The only thing is … darling Jess …’ Brooke was starting to wheedle and Jess guessed what was coming.
‘Yeeees?’
‘Do you mind not coming home till a bit later? I haven’t seen Lou for such a long time … it would be nice to pretend we were on our own … even though Hutch will be there.’
Jess and Jonathan waved her off with their blessing.
‘You can always bunk in with me if it gets too late,’ said Jonathan with a smile.
‘Thanks. I might just have to.’
A few minutes later Ollie arrived and all they could talk about was Blithe Spirit.
It was Jonathan who couldn’t stay up any longer and he said his goodnights first, leaving Jess and Ollie to it.
They wandered to the comfortable bar and ordered two large brandies.
‘Jonathan’s a good bloke, isn’t he,’ said Ollie stretching himself out in his vast armchair.
‘Do you think he’s gay?’ asked Jess.
‘Don’t know. Don’t care. Why do you ask?’
Jess told him what she’d witnessed between Jonathan and the waiter.
‘Really?’ Ollie yawned. ‘Does it honestly matter?’
Jess felt embarrassed. ‘No, of course not. I’m just wondering. Such a nice man. I want everyone to be happy. As happy as I am with Ryan.’
‘Are you really happy, Jess?’
‘Yes.’ She flashed her engagement ring. ‘I’m engaged, dontcha know.’
‘Ah. Yes. And when are you getting married?’
‘I was hoping Christmas.’
‘Does Ryan know this?’
‘He’s been a bit distracted with work and stuff, but we’ll find a quiet couple of days and do it.’ She smiled shyly and put her hand to her lips. ‘I’ve bought the dress.’
‘Have you?’ He shook his head disbelievingly. ‘Miss Tate! You dark horse. Does Ryan know about that?’
She shook her head.
‘He’s a lucky man,’ Ollie continued. ‘If you didn’t have that ring on your finger, I might make a play for you myself.’
She reached a leg out and kicked him.
‘No, I would.’ He rubbed his shin. ‘We’d be great together. I like Ethel and Elsie. You like Cornwall. Ideal couple.’
‘Yeah, right. I’m a bit old for you.’
He gave her a comedy wolf face. ‘Oh my dear, but the older woman has so much experience.’
Jess was enjoying this banter. ‘You’re, what, twenty-eight?’
‘According to my CV, yes. And you are …?’
‘According to my CV, thirty-five.’
They looked at each other for a moment and started to giggle.
‘How old are you really?’ asked Ollie.
‘Thirty-eight.’ Jess looked shame-faced. ‘How old are you really?’
‘Nearly thirty-four.’
‘NO!’
‘Yep.’ He put out his foot and stroked Jess’s ankle with his toes. ‘If ever you want a toyboy …’
36
The taxi rattled its way from Trevay to Pendruggan and Jess, swaying in the back seat, smiled at her reflection. So Ollie lied about his age too? How hilarious. And how she had enjoyed his gentle flirting. She thought about him as a potential lover and just as quickly stopped. She couldn’t imagine taking her clothes off in front of anyone other than Ryan now. She was slim but she had touches of sag and droop that she’d prefer to keep to herself, and Ollie was used to Red, who was only twenty-four. Red’s body was fresh out of the cellophane and still made of lycra. Bone-hugging, soft and wrinkle free. Jess’s was losing its elasticity and as for the pencil-under-the-boob test, well she could get a whole branch of Ryman’s under hers. She stuck her tongue out at her reflection in the window and giggled. God, she was pissed. Supposing she’d stayed at the Starfish tonight; would Ollie have made a move? She closed her eyes to imagine him kissing her. It was a nice thought. How would his muscled arms feel through his shirt? She snapped her eyes open again. Jess Tate, you are as good as married, she told herself. But it’s rather nice to think someone as young and nice and gorgeous as Ollie could … Stop it, Jess! she scolded herself. He’s in bed now, laughing at how he made a fool of you. Forget it. He’s a friend. That’s all.
‘’Ere you go, my love.’ The taxi driver pulled up outside Granny’s Nook. ‘Seven pounds twenty, please.’
She paid the cabbie and lurched her way up the garden path as quietly as she could. As she turned to shut the front door, she spotted on the other side of the green a familiar dark Range Rover. Louis was still here then. She flicked on the sitting-room light to illuminate her path across the floor to the stairs. Hutch was on the sofa in his sleeping bag. She’d woken him up.
‘Hey, Jess. What time is it?’ he asked, rubbing his eyes.
She looked at her watch. ‘One thirty. Sorry, I forgot you’d be here. I wasn’t supposed to come back.’
‘That’s all right.’
‘Hi,’ said another voice from the rug in front of the hearth.
Jess saw a man with his head on an armchair cushion and his body covered in the old throw that usually covered the sofa.
‘Oh, that’s Chris. Chris, this is Jess – Brooke’s flatmate. Jess, this is Chris, my new partner. Since the last brouhaha, Louis needs two of us.’
‘Is security that high for him?’ Jess asked, trying to sound totally sober.
‘Something like that.’ Hutch looked at her carefully, ‘Are you pissed, miss?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Oh good. I like your shoes.’
‘Thank you.’ She looked down at them. They were on the wrong feet. No wonder she’d had trouble getting up the path.
‘Just as long as you’re OK then,’
said Hutch, turning over to face the back of the sofa. ‘Turn the light out on your way up.’
Upstairs on the landing she crept past the closed door of Brooke’s bedroom. There was no light coming from under it and no sounds either.
When she was finally curled up in her own bed she wondered whether she ought to phone Ryan to check how the party had gone. It occurred to her that she hadn’t heard from him in twenty-four hours. ‘No news is good news,’ she told herself, and immediately fell into a deep sleep.
*
‘Jess! Jess!’ A man’s voice, close to her ear. It was him. She was sure of it. He mustn’t come into her bedroom.
‘Go away, Ollie,’ she told him sternly, keeping her eyes tight shut. If she didn’t look at him he’d go away.
‘Jess, it’s Chris. It’s important.’
Chris? Who the hell was Chris and what was he doing in her room? My God, she was a man magnet!
‘Chris, you’re very sweet,’ she mumbled into her pillow, ‘but I’m engaged to Ryan.’
‘Jess, wake up. Now.’ He was shaking her awake.
She opened her eyes and slowly focused on the face of Louis’ new detective. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘We’ve got a bit of trouble.’
Jess pulled herself to wakefulness. Hutch was on the landing talking on the phone.
‘What’s happened?’
Hutch, finishing his call, came into her room pocketing the phone. ‘We should have got Louis out of here before dawn, but …’ He looked sheepish. ‘We all overslept. Our friends from Fleet Street have been tipped off and they’re starting to gather outside. Only two or three at the moment, but I’ve had to tell my bosses and four types of shit is about to land on my head. Would you do me a favour and go outside and tell them he’s not here? It’ll give me a chance to think of something.’
The door to Brooke’s bedroom opened and she came out with Louis. They were both fully dressed and Louis was on his phone.
‘Ma, listen to me … I’ll get out of here … I know what I promised … there aren’t many of them outside yet … I’m sorry … we’ll talk about it when I get home … gotta go, Hutch is here … OK, Ma, see you soon. Bye. Bye.’
