Beaumont Brides Collection (18 page)

‘Andy’s already promised to drive me home, Fizz.’ Melanie seemed perfectly happy with the arrangement and Andy looked positively smug.

‘You could come along to the disco, if you like,’ he offered, a throwaway line that could be grasped or not without loss of face on either side. But there was a brightness about his eyes, a sharp eagerness that sent a tiny quiver of alarm feathering along Fizz’s spine.

‘Andy! Are you mad? The poor girl would be mobbed.’

‘But I’d love to come another time,’ Melanie said, without the slightest coyness. ‘Once people are used to seeing me about and I can fade into the background a bit. It won’t take long, will it, Fizz?’ Fizz released her breath very carefully.

‘No, it won’t take long. Just make sure you have someone with you for a week or two and a mobile phone to call for help if you need it.’

‘I’ll be happy to keep you company if you want to get around a bit,’ Andy offered and received a smile to put the sun in the shade for his trouble. ‘I have plenty of free time.’

Fizz, realising that she had made a mistake, ploughed on. ‘Of course, if you wear a woolly hat to cover your hair and the kind of nondescript clothes that don’t attract attention you could probably walk through Broomhill without anyone recognising you right now. Or at least, they wouldn’t be sure enough to risk making a fool of themselves.’

She felt like a universal aunt dispensing wise advice to the young and she wasn’t much enjoying the experience. Besides, she was only too aware that Melanie was a full grown adult. Luke Devlin might treat her like his personal property, but Fizz was in no position to forbid the girl to drive home with Andy. She only hoped Luke would see it in the same light.

Tea arrived, with just two cups and Andy was dispatched to check on the state of the siege. Having established his right to take Melanie home, he didn’t protest.

‘Luke asked me to tell you that he might be late for dinner. He said you shouldn’t wait for him,’ Fizz said, as soon as he had gone.

‘Oh, you’ve seen him?’

‘We’ve been house hunting for you.’

‘Poor you.’ She took a muffin, smothered it with butter and sank a row of small, even white teeth into it. ‘Luke’s not very easy to please. I suppose he settled on some gloomy great place miles from anywhere?’

It seemed Luke was right about Winterbourne Manor. ‘I don’t think he’s made any decision yet,’ she hedged. ‘He seemed more concerned about what you would want.’

‘Did he?’ Disconcertingly Melanie blushed, as if she had been scolded. ‘Oh, gosh, I don’t really mind where we live. I just wish...’ She glanced at Fizz and then away again. ‘I just wish Luke could spend a bit more time with me. I’ve hardly seen him since I arrived.’

She was still such a child, Fizz thought, angry with Luke Devlin for being so selfish. Melanie should be with someone like Andy. Someone who would take her to exotic little restaurants in the Wynds, to discos and the cinema. Someone to make her laugh. Someone to flirt with her. She had the feeling that Melanie could do with some fun and the thought of her rattling around the Metropole, as stuffy as it was expensive, or alone at Winterbourne Manor, waiting for Luke to come home was very depressing.

‘He did try to find somewhere close to town, but there really isn’t anywhere that you’d like,’ Fizz said, more gently.

Andy stuck his head around the door. ‘It’s fairly quiet out there, now. Just a few determined fans who won’t go until they’ve seen you. It might be kind to go out before they actually freeze to the deck.’

‘Finish your tea, Melanie. Andy can fetch your coat. It’s in my office.’ She stood up and offered her hand. ‘I’m so glad you want to join us. We’re all looking forward to working with you.’

‘I can’t wait. And tell Kelly to give me a ring if she wants to tape an interview for Friday.’

‘I will. Perhaps you’d like to do a few promos as well?’ She caught Andy on the stairs. ‘Straight to the Metropole, Andy and keep your hands to yourself.’ She might think it a very good thing if Andy whisked Melanie off to his disco and gave her the kind of good time a girl of her age should be having, but she had her station to think of.

‘She’s over the age of consent, Fizz.’

She knew that. Oh, God, she knew that. But she kept her feelings to herself.

‘Maybe, but Luke Devlin will have Melanie out of here faster than the Broomhill Thunderbolt if anyone upsets him. And neither of us wants that.’

Andy grinned. ‘And when were you last on the Thunderbolt, Fizz?’ The Thunderbolt was the pride of the funfair and a white knuckle ride bar none.

‘Me? I wouldn’t go on that thing for a king’s ransom.’ For the money to pay off her bank loan was another matter.

‘You should try it. It might shake a few of the rivets out of your corset.’

‘When I want my rivets loosened, I’ll consider it. In the meantime-’

‘Straight to the Metropole. Hands to myself,’ he repeated her instructions. ‘This time.’

She hesitated. ‘It never hurts to play the gentleman, Andy.’

He grinned. ‘Leave them guessing, eh? Is that what works with you?’ She knew he was puzzled by the fact that she found him utterly resistible, but this time he was nearer to the truth than he knew.

 Once. Just once it had worked with her. Patrick March had been a lot like Andy. A little taller perhaps, his eyes meltingly dark. That first morning on the set, when she was eighteen and with a part any young actress would die for, a bundle of nerves that she might make a fool of herself, ruin her career before it had even begun, that first morning he had played the gentleman to perfection.

He was broodingly handsome.

Heathcliffe, Romeo, Mr Darcy, with his dark good looks, tousled curls, he could have played any one of them.

At twenty-six he was almost too old to play the part of an out of control youth, living off petty crime who had lost his heart to the young daughter of the most powerful family in town, but he had appeared in a film made in America and had been noticed. The company making the low budget adaptation of Romeo and Juliet to be filmed in modern Verona had wanted to cash in on his moment of fame before he was forgotten, or became too expensive.

Fizz had seen the film. And she had recognised the talent that had simmered just below the surface, contained by the knowledge that the actor/director starring in the film would make certain anything that outshone his own performance would end up on the cutting room floor. But Patrick had still been noticed. And now he was noticing her. The knowledge went to her head faster than champagne.

On her arrival in Verona it hadn’t taken her an hour to discover that the rest of the cast assumed she had been given the part because of her illustrious family connections. A few of them were openly hostile, more fawned all over her, neither of them comfortable experiences.

Patrick had simply taken her hand, held it briefly, given it the smallest squeeze, a reassuring smile. She hadn’t so much melted as dissolved.

He spent time explaining what would happen so she didn’t feel quite so lost and confused. He went out of his way to make her look good for the camera, never stealing a scene. And when they kissed for the camera he broke away the minute the director called a halt. Leaving her wanting more.

A perfect gentleman.

A very clever gentleman.

He had rehearsed her in the evening, when the crew and the rest of the cast were out having a good time. He took her to see the galleries and the museums, holding her hand as they walked through the city, taking her through the film script, comparing it knowledgeably with Shakespeare’s play.

He’d seemed oblivious to her family, oblivious to her melting desire for him until she began to wonder if he was gay. How different her life might be now if that had been the case.

‘Fizz?’ She jumped. ‘You were miles away. I said we’re just going.’

She stared at Andy and Melanie. ‘Oh, yes. Take care, both of you.’

She could see them making their way down the pier from her office window. They were followed by the faithful band of fans who had stuck it out despite the cold and the dark. Melanie was laughing, Fizz could see her breath, little puffs of vapour, her hair a golden nimbus in the glow of the lamps as she signed the last of the autograph books thrust out to her, not hurrying, all charm. And Andy waited patiently.

Then Melanie slipped her hand under his arm and still chatting to the girls who had waited so long to meet her, they walked slowly off the pier together.

She sat down, her cold hands stuffed hard into her pockets. Why had she told Andy to play the gentleman? She, of all people, knew that any actor worth his salt could play the gentleman if you gave him a script. It took more than a script to make the genuine article. Unfortunately, it could be hard to tell the difference.

There was a tap at her door and she looked up to see her father watching from the doorway. ‘Can I come in?’

‘Of course, if you can stand the cold. I really will have to do something about the heating up here. It’s not fair on Susie.’

‘I understand that snow has been forecast.’

She nodded. ‘I heard. We don’t usually get it down here on the coast though.’

‘Is everything all right, Fizz? You looked somewhat distant.’

‘Fine.’ She found a smile for him. ‘Mr Devlin has agreed to carry on sponsoring us provided we find a part for a young actress he knows in “Holiday Bay”.’

‘Really?’ He sounded pleased. ‘Well, that shouldn’t prove too much of a problem.’

‘No. None whatever. She’s a delightful girl. She’s something of a celebrity in fact and I’m sure listening figures will rocket. Having her in the town should be good for local trade too.’

Edward Beaumont beamed. ‘There now,’ he said, delighted with the world. ‘I said you could handle it without me.’ Then he shivered. ‘Why don’t you come down to my office and have a glass of sherry to celebrate.’

‘I’ll leave it until the weekend if you don’t mind. Is Claudia coming home do you know? I’d like to talk to her, explain what’s happening.’ Before she picked up some second hand gossip.

‘I am expecting her. She ‘phoned earlier, still sounding thoroughly fed up about losing this film. We really ought to do something to cheer her up. A little party, perhaps? You haven’t had an official opening of the restaurant yet -’

Fizz suddenly realised that her father’s visit was to discuss Claudia’s problems not hers. ‘Dad, would you mind if we talk about this tomorrow? I really have a million things to do.’

He hesitated for just a moment. ‘Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

She waited until the door had closed behind him and then quickly checked a number in her book and taking a deep breath, she reached for the ‘phone.

‘Julian? It’s Fizz. I need to sell some quite valuable jewellery quickly,’ she rushed on, before he could say anything. ‘Will you help me?’

Rather to her surprise he said yes.

*****

Just over an hour later Julian met her at Victoria, standing at the end of the platform, waiting while she walked down the platform, his expression guarded.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, quite simply. ‘I didn’t know who else to ask.’

‘I guessed that. Although I can’t say I’m flattered by your assumption that I would know where to pop the family jewels.’

‘Pop?’

‘Pop, pledge, pawn.’ He turned her away from the station leading her to where his car was parked. ‘Don’t look so shocked. Even the best people do it. And it’s tricky to get a good price for jewellery unless you can wait for the right buyer.’ This is your mother’s stuff right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then I’d recommend an auction. She still has an army of adoring fans, you know, middle-aged men who would fork out a mint just to possess a necklace that had adorned the neck of the great Elaine French.’ He looked at her, slightly baffled. ‘I’m still not sure why you feel you have to do this. If Devlin has agreed to sponsor you?’

‘I’d rather be in charge of my own destiny.’

He shrugged. ‘In that case pawning it will cover your immediate problems.’

 ‘Will it?’ She was horrified by the idea. ‘But could just one pawn broker handle something like this?’ Fizz had a sudden terrible vision of trailing around the back streets of London hocking a necklace here, a bracelet there in dingy little shops.

‘Don’t worry about that, just tell me where we have to go to pick the stuff up.’

Fizz gave him the address of the depository where, at the insistence of the insurance company, her mother’s jewels were kept in a safety deposit box. They were stored in London for Claudia’s convenience. Her sister wore hers frequently but Fizz scarcely ever took hers out except to wear at one of her father’s rare first nights, or to one of the media award dinners. She certainly wouldn’t miss them. The fact that it had taken her so long to come up with such a simple solution to her problem was ample evidence of how rarely she even thought of them.

She showed her identification to the guard, went through a complicated checking procedure with the clerk and then she and Julian were taken to a small room and the safety deposit box was brought to them. She opened it.

‘Good grief.’ Julian’s expression said it all.

‘There is rather a lot isn’t there? My mother liked beautiful things. Of course it isn’t all mine, half of it belongs to Claudia. Mother made a list of who was to get what so we shouldn’t quarrel.’ She had never quite been able to shake off the feeling that if her mother had known she wasn’t going to make it on the stage she would have left all of it to Claudia.