Breaking the Rules (14 page)

But there was M now in his life, thank God, and he didn’t want to be away from her. She had become essential to his wellbeing over the last few weeks.
He must take her with him.
Yes, that was the solution. But would she go with him if he asked her? He wasn’t sure. But he would invite her.

And what about Edward, his
bête noire
? He had no wish to spend a prolonged length of time with
him.
He wouldn’t have to, would he? When Edward arrived in Toronto he would simply leave. That was the deal, wasn’t it? Although there
was
a sort of truce between them these days, this did not mean that Edward had reformed. His brother was as two-faced now as he’d always been.

Larry had long been convinced that it was actually Edward who had planted the idea that
he
was the black sheep of the family in their father’s head. Never mind. He would prove to his father once and for all that he was his old self, and to hell with Edward.

Thousands of miles away, in London, Pandora Gallen Vaughan sat at her desk in the small study of the family’s Mayfair house. Her elegant hand still rested on the phone and her mind remained focused on her favourite son. No, favourite
child.
That was the truth, he was, and he always had been, although she had striven to hide this from her other children. Larry was the one who was the most like her in character; facially he resembled his father, and of all the children Laurence was the only one who had inherited Nicholas’s astonishing blue eyes and classical profile. Where the dark hair and height had come from she wasn’t sure. Certainly not her blond, Nordic-like family from the north of England. Probably from
great-grandfather Cornelius Vaughan, the magnificent Edwardian actor with an Irish mother, who had been the favourite of King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra. Cornelius, in his heyday, had been described as tall, dark and handsome.

Their children were all good looking, but it was Larry who was the most handsome, who had the most talent. That was why some of the others were excessively jealous of him. Funny, though, Larry was the least impressed with himself, his looks and his abilities. He thought the others were much better than him. How wrong he was in that;
he
was the real thing, the genuine star amongst his siblings.

Now her thoughts focused on Edward. Suddenly she wasn’t sure that she wanted him in such close proximity to Larry. Somehow he always proved to be toxic for his younger brother. Perhaps it would be wiser not to broach the subject to Edward. Maybe Portia could be pressed into service in a few weeks. Surely little Desdemona would have recovered from the measles by then. Did Portia cosset her daughter too much?

Edward might well create problems for Larry…her agile mind raced, endeavouring to envision what mischief he might get up to. Edward was here in London to work out another mess with yet another woman. He’d had three wives and three ‘live-ins’, as he called them, and there were endless children on both sides of the Pond. Oh, God, how would he sort
this
mess out? Only with her help, naturally, and her money. And although she totally disapproved of his behaviour in general, she would have to help him in order to protect the family from more scandal. She did love Edward, as she loved every one of her children, in different ways and varying degrees. However, this did not mean she turned a blind eye to some of Edward’s less commendable characteristics. It suddenly struck her, on reflection, that it was Edward who was more like the black sheep of the family than Larry. How she regretted that Nick had said that about him. Larry had not forgotten it. But he didn’t bear a grudge, did he?

Pandora sighed heavily, and looked out of the window. The charming little garden at the back of the townhouse looked bleak, wintry, even though it was only mid-October. And that was how she felt at this moment…
bleak.
And worried about her husband of fifty years.

‘Hi, Caresse, it’s me, M. I just got all these urgent messages from you. Is there something wrong?’

‘Oh, hello, M! Glad you called back. There’s nothing
wrong.
I must see you, though. I need to talk to you about something…
vital.
’

‘I’m all ears,’ M said, laughing, relieved that Caresse did not have more problems to cope with. There had been so many. ‘Tell me now.’

‘I can’t. I’m very busy here. Lotta photography going on at the studios. Stop by at the end of the day, when you finish at the cheese cake place. Can’t you do that?’

‘Larry’s not well, he’s had the worst flu, and he’s still rather weak. I’ve been looking after him. I want to get back to him as soon as possible.’

‘Please come over. Ten minutes, that’s all I need.
Please,
’ Caresse pleaded. ‘It’s very important to me.’

‘Okay, I’ll come for ten minutes. You know I’ll always try to help you when I can, Caresse. Look, I’ll be finishing at the café around five. I’ll get there a bit after that.’

‘Thanks, M, thanks a load. You’re cool, we’re cool, and you won’t regret this, I promise.’

Startled by the comment, M exclaimed, ‘Does this have something to do with me?’ She sounded curious and suddenly wary.

‘No, no! Not at all,’ Caresse fibbed. ‘Why do you think that?’

‘Because you just said I won’t regret it.’

‘Oh, that’s just a saying of mine I picked up lately. What
I meant was that you won’t regret doing
a good deed.
Honest, that’s all,’ Caresse lied, knowing that she would soon be giving M the surprise of her life. Perhaps even the most important news of her life. The thing was she wanted to tell her in person because she wanted to witness her happiness when she heard the news. It was about time somebody was happy around here. God knows, she wasn’t.

‘See you later then,’ M answered.

‘You betcha!’ Caresse hung up the phone, a huge smile on her face, the first in weeks, and her step was a little more lively when she went into the big studio to check on what was happening.

L
arry had loved surprises since his childhood—getting them, and giving them. And now, as he sat at the desk in the library, gazing at the ring in its Harry Winston dark blue box, he wondered if M would be surprised.

He was never quite sure with her…did she think he was teasing her when he kept making announcements about getting married, suggesting dates and proposing honeymoon destinations? Or did she believe he was being serious?

Certainly she appeared to take everything at face value, responding in kind, going along with him as if he were making real plans. Which of course he was. He had never been more serious in his life about anything. He
was
going to marry her at Christmas, and he couldn’t wait to make her his wife because he loved her to distraction. He felt lost and lonely when she was not with him—bereft was the best word to use.

He held up the ring to catch the light. And it radiated brilliant blue. It was a superb Burmese sapphire, flawless, cushion-cut and mounted in platinum, with two diamond baguettes on each side. An extraordinary ring. He could only hope she liked it. M had never answered him when he had
asked her what kind of engagement ring she wanted, the gem she preferred, because she thought he was joking. But he wasn’t. After looking at various stones, he had selected the sapphire because it was one of the most beautiful examples he had seen in years. It would suit her…it was a classy ring for a classy lady, and she had made favourable comments about Caresse’s sapphire engagement ring.

Smiling to himself, he placed the ring in the box, slipped it into his trouser pocket and hurried out to the kitchen. Of course she would be surprised, and of course she would love the ring. What woman wouldn’t love it? After putting a bottle of Dom Perignon in the fridge, he returned to the library, still thinking about M. He could hardly wait for her to arrive, impatient to see her reaction.

Once he had thrown two extra logs on the fire, Larry picked up the film script that his agent had sent over by messenger earlier that afternoon. He began to read, finding himself quickly caught up in the truly superior dialogue and intriguing plot lines.

After half an hour, he leaned back in the chair and laid the screenplay on his lap, looking off into space, thinking. He might well do this movie. It was as good as his agent had said it was, and it had a certain flair to it. He hadn’t worked for over a year and he wanted to get back in the saddle, was suddenly itching to tread the boards or emote in front of a camera. Besides, he would soon have a wife to support.

A wife…what a lovely thought that was. But only because it’s my darling M, he added to himself. My beautiful, darling M.

‘I don’t think I like the way this conversation’s going,’ Geo said in a cold tone, staring across the table at Dax, frowning at him.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Oh, come on, don’t play dumb with me. You’ve just more or less said that Laurence Vaughan is a drug addict.’

‘I didn’t say that!’ Dax cried vehemently, looking at her askance. ‘All I said was that I’d heard rumours he had a problem with prescription drugs. Several years ago.’

‘But why are you telling me this now, if it was
several years ago
? Shouldn’t the matter be forgotten? Not mentioned any more? After all, saying things like that can ruin somebody’s career.’

‘I did
not
say he was an addict, or a coke head, or anything resembling that,’ Dax hissed at her, leaning over the table. ‘I only mentioned prescription drugs.’

Georgiana was silent. She picked up her latte and took a sip, glanced around the Starbucks café near Eighth Avenue, where they had met a short while before. It was half empty, but Dax had a stage voice that carried. She now wished that she had agreed to see him at her brownstone, as he had suggested. But she was expecting James around five, and she didn’t want Dax there when he arrived. It might look strange; certainly it could be awkward.

Her hand was resting on the table; Dax reached out and put his hand over it. It was a conciliatory gesture. ‘I mentioned it because, well, because I’m fond of M, and I wouldn’t want her getting…in over her head.’

Geo glared at him, and said in a low voice, ‘If you think I’m going to tell her any of this, you’re mistaken. It’s none of my business. Nor is it any of yours, as a matter of fact. I just hate it when people gossip. It’s dangerous, can cause untold harm, and pain.’

‘Geo, calm down, for God’s sake! I wasn’t gossiping, I was merely passing on something that came from a reliable source, and—’

‘Iris Ingersoll, I’ve no doubt.’

‘No, it wasn’t Iris. And look, I’m not out to hurt anyone,
certainly not M. You know I’m fond of her. Listen up, honey, I was once—and not so long ago—your lover. We even talked about marriage. Now you sound as if you don’t trust me. What’s wrong with you? Why are you so accusatory?’

Geo let out a long sigh. ‘I do trust you, Dax, and I’m sorry I blazed away at you just now. I feel very protective of M. I know she gives off an aura of sophistication, and certainly she knows a great deal about everything and everyone. I just have a feeling she’s…’ Geo paused, shrugged. ‘I have the feeling she’s a little inexperienced in certain ways and I sometimes think that she’s probably been protected most of her life.’

Dax nodded. ‘I’ve felt the same at times, but I think we’re both wrong about her. She can be extremely tough about certain things, I’ve noticed, and she’s got enormous willpower. Anyway, I thought…’ He lifted his shoulders helplessly, spread his hands. ‘What I thought is forewarned, forearmed. M once said something to me that struck me as rather clever. I remarked how well informed she was, and she said, with a knowing smile, “Information keeps you safe.” So there you have it. I was passing information on, and, by the way, I never said you should tell her anything. I was talking to you, and sort of…looking for your input.’

‘I know she’s tough, and extremely smart, and in a bad situation you can be sure she’ll go for the jugular, but there have been those odd moments when I’ve seen something…well, oddly enough, very trusting about her.’

‘That’s it exactly!’ Dax exclaimed, sitting up in the chair, staring at Georgiana. ‘Almost innocent.’

‘What else did your…“informant” tell you?’ Geo asked.

‘That Larry had lost a lot of work because of his…problem. Some producers thought he was a risk, that they might not get insurance on him…I’m talking movie producers, by the way.’

‘Right. But James and I have had supper with them a few times and been to the theatre, and he seems perfectly normal.
Sober, calm, not hyper or on a high, or anything peculiar like that.’ Geo now smiled for the first time, and said sotto voce, ‘And you can be sure she wouldn’t put up with it if there was any suggestion of drugs. M would go berserk. She’s very intolerant that way. Haven’t you noticed she hardly drinks anything, and she appears to be very strait-laced in some ways.’

‘I think you’re right,’ Dax agreed, relieved Geo had calmed down.

‘Who told you about Larry’s former…?’ Geo stopped, made little motions with her fingers and gave him a probing look.

‘I don’t mind telling you, because I know you will keep a confidence. It was Colin Burke, the English actor I met on the Coast. The one who introduced me to Iris, in a sort of roundabout way.’

‘I see.’ Geo sat back, looking contemplative, and after a moment asked, ‘He didn’t indicate that Larry had any problems now, did he? Or trouble getting work?’

Dax shook his head. ‘No, and even though Colin’s gay, he’s definitely not bitchy. I promise you that.’

‘So basically, all this…
stuff
we’ve been discussing happened in the past. Some years ago. Right?’

Dax nodded, and then went on to talk about his play, realizing this would be much wiser.

Caresse had a huge smile on her face when M greeted her in the reception area of the Farantino Studios. There was no doubt in M’s mind that something important had happened, and that it was definitely something good.

The petite young woman with her elfin features and spiky red hair was more like her old self today. Certainly the gloomy, frequently sorrowful expression she had worn since Frankie’s fatal crash had miraculously disappeared.

‘You’ve had good news, haven’t you?’ M asserted. ‘It’s written all over your face.’

Caresse nodded and, still smiling, she said, ‘Come on in, take off your coat, and I’ll tell you about it over a cuppa tea.’

M started to laugh. ‘I don’t always have tea in the afternoon, you know, so there’s no need to have the kettle on the boil every time I come over here.’

‘I know that, but I’m addicted to your lemon tea. I guess I just picked up your habit. I have it every day now.’

The two women walked through the reception, across the largest of the studios, and into the kitchen. Here M sat down on a tall stool and Caresse started to fuss with the teapot, packets of tea, and mugs. She was bursting, couldn’t wait to tell M about Luke’s two phone calls that day, but she wanted to make the tea first.

Looking across at Caresse intently and curiously, M asked, ‘So, what’s happened? Have you finally had an offer for the studios?’

‘No. Unfortunately.’ Taking a deep breath, Caresse went on almost breathlessly, ‘And my good news has to do with you,’ she cried, no longer able to restrain herself.

‘
Me?
‘ M frowned, looking puzzled. ‘What on earth do you mean?’

Caresse giggled, blurted out, ‘You’re about to get your first break, M! This weekend. Luke Hendricks called from Paris early this morning and asked me to track you down. He’s coming back to New York on Thursday evening. He wants to do a fashion shoot with you, starting on Saturday. And this afternoon he asked me to tell you that it’s a special shoot for Jean-Louis Tremont, the French designer.’

‘Oh, my God!’ M jumped off the stool and rushed over to Caresse. The two women hugged, began to jump up and down. Still holding each other, then laughing and screaming, they danced around the kitchen together like two adolescent girls.

When they finally stopped, Caresse ran to turn off the kettle, and M went back to the stool, not quite able to process the news. It seemed absolutely incredible to her, and she almost didn’t believe it after her last experience. But she wisely said nothing to Caresse, who was obviously over the moon about Luke’s phone calls, and his intention to use
her
for the Tremont shoot.

‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ M said at last, looking over at Caresse. ‘It’s just wonderful! So, tell me what else Luke had to say.’

Swinging around, Caresse said, ‘His first call was to ask me to find you, saying he wanted you to do the shoot, and that it would be your first break at long last. When he called again at two, he asked me to book Agnes and Marguerite for hair and makeup. He also explained he doesn’t want to start shooting before noon on Saturday, and that you might have to continue the shoot next week as well.’ Caresse paused, made a face. ‘Oh, jeez, I bet you won’t be able to work at the cheese cake place.’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ M assured her. ‘Jody, the manager, understands I have to take time off now and then. It’s fine, honestly. Oh, I’m so excited I can’t believe it. Luke must be shooting Tremont’s clothes on
me.
Is that what he said?’

‘Yes, it is, and listen, before I forget, Luke wants you to bring the things you wore for Frankie’s session. It all sounds very serious, don’t ya think?’

‘I do, and I love Tremont’s clothes, they suit me, look good on me.’ When she saw Caresse’s surprised expression and realized she was gaping at her, M explained, ‘I’ve never owned a Tremont, just tried his things on occasionally, and once a friend in London lent me a dress of Tremont’s for a special party.’ Jumping off the stool, M stepped over to the counter to join Caresse, and said, ‘Oh God, I must call Larry! Tell him my news about the shoot. He’ll be so
thrilled.
’ She pulled her mobile out of her red Kelly and started to dial.

Caresse exclaimed, ‘No! Don’t call him! Tell him in person when you get to his place, that’s always the best when you have a big surprise to share. He’ll take you out to celebrate.’

‘Not tonight he won’t,’ M answered and put her phone away. ‘He’s had flu for days. I’m going to make him chicken-in-the-pot again. He likes it, thank goodness, but it must be coming out of his ears by now.’

Caresse said, ‘Jewish penicillin. It works wonders.’ Handing M the mug, she picked up her own, raised it, and finished, ‘Congratulations! Here’s to the shoot.’

‘You’ve been awfully quiet for the last half-hour,’ James Cardigan murmured, reaching out, taking Geo’s hand in his. ‘What’s bothering you, me darlin’?’

‘Nothing, James, honestly. I’m just unwinding after a long day at the easel,’ she answered and leaned back against the banquette.

‘That may be so, but I have a feeling something’s troubling you. I know you quite well by now, Georgiana, and I recognize that look in your eyes. A troubled look that doesn’t go away.’ When she did not respond, James lifted his glass and took a sip of his white wine, and then glanced around the restaurant. He had brought Geo to Da Umberto on West Seventeenth, a Tuscan restaurant they both enjoyed not only for the food and wine but the atmosphere. There was a sense of tranquillity about this spot that created a perfect ambiance for relaxing, talking and enjoying the delectable food.

Not wanting to pressure her, or force the point, James changed the subject when he asked, ‘How’s M? Any breaks yet?’

Geo shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think so. Anyway, she’s been very occupied with Larry. He’s had the flu, and she’s been practically living at the Beekman Place apartment. So I haven’t really seen her except for a few minutes. Listen, James, there
is
one thing troubling me, that’s true, and it’s the safety of my friend Annette Lazenby, who rents the attic floor in the brownstone. I haven’t heard from her lately, and neither has her mother, and—’

‘Where is she?’ James interrupted. ‘You’ve only ever mentioned her in passing, not said much about her. So, where is she?’

‘She’s in Afghanistan on an assignment for her magazine. She’s a journalist. How dangerous is it out there? In Kabul?’