Foursome (19 page)

Isabel lives in a proper house – three storeys and a cellar that, while not enormous, could fit our little flat into it several times. Despite that, the girls have always insisted on sharing a room, so Alex knocked down the walls between two tiny attic bedrooms and now they inhabit the top storey like a pair of very loud mice. They go off promising not to watch too much TV and to come down promptly at half past eight to say goodnight, and Isabel and I move into the comfortable sitting room, taking the bottle with us.

‘I don’t really understand why you’re helping her out,’ she says when I’ve finished bringing her up to date with events at the office, including a version of Alex’s drunken visit. ‘She’s always been horrible to you.’

‘I know, neither do I really. But she’s completely fallen apart and I just think if she loses her job then she’s got nothing. She might be vile sometimes but no one deserves to be treated the way Alex treated her. She’s heartbroken. And I suppose I feel responsible in a way. If I hadn’t introduced them…’

‘Well, I hope she’s grateful.’

I laugh. ‘She won’t be.’

‘Don’t get yourself in deep water, will you?’ Isabel says, suddenly serious. ‘It’s all very well trying to cover up her fuck-ups, but if she doesn’t come back in a couple of days you’re going to have to come clean with Joshua and Melanie.’

‘I will.’

‘Promise?’

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘She’ll probably be back tomorrow anyway,’ I add, although I don’t believe it. I can’t imagine Lorna just pulling herself together and breezing back in somehow.

‘So…’ I say to her once we’ve exhausted the subject of Lorna. ‘How’s love’s young dream?’

She smiles. ‘It’s good. I’m having fun.’

She and Luke have been out again since I last saw her, this time to a small local bistro. They had gone back to hers again, only this time Luke made sure she was aware that he wasn’t going to be able to stay over before they left the restaurant.

‘He had to get to St Pancras first thing to get on the Eurostar,’ she tells me, ‘so he needed to get home and pack.’

‘Where does he live?’

‘Miles away. He’s taken a flat in Teddington while he waits for the divorce to go through and they decide what to do with the house. He did ask me if I wanted to go back there, but it seemed crazy when we were just round the corner from here. And, besides, I would have had to come back here before work to get ready anyway.’

‘Fair enough. But it was fun? You had a good time?’

‘Definitely. He makes me feel… I don’t know… desirable and all that stuff. I need that after Alex. He never really made me feel attractive.’

I nod. ‘You do.’ The more I hear about Isabel’s marriage to Alex the more I’m amazed that I could ever have been so blind.

‘I hope that Alex is OK, though,’ she says, veering off the subject. ‘I mean, being drunk in the day, getting aggressive. It’s not like him at all. I’m worried about him, now he’s got no one…’

Isabel still has a tendency to look wistful and concerned whenever Alex is mentioned, which after the way I now know he treated her is pretty laughable.

‘Tell me more about Luke,’ I say, wanting to get her off the subject. It makes me uneasy. She needs to move on and, surely, Luke is the perfect vehicle to move on in.

‘His son is called Charlie. He’s ten. I haven’t met him yet, but I’ve seen his picture and he looks cute. He lives with his mum in Highgate. They moved from round here last year, but the school agreed that Charlie could stay on. He has ADD, I think, so he would have found it hard to settle in somewhere new and he leaves next year anyway. Luke’s forty-four. He’s got brown hair. Lots of hair, actually. And brown eyes and a really sweet smile that he does all the time, like he knows something funny that no one else does. He’s into music and films and stuff, and cars, although I told him I couldn’t drum up any enthusiasm about that so he doesn’t go on about them. He’s funny and clever and I fancy him like crazy.’

‘He sounds perfect.’

‘He is. He’s perfect for what I need at the moment. He’s great; he’s helping me feel way better about myself, but I’m not in any hurry to move in with him and settle down.’

‘Well, you have only known him for three and a half weeks.’

‘You know what I mean. I don’t think he’s going to turn out to be the love of my life necessarily, but I really like spending time with him and he’s doing my ego no end of good.’

‘Well, you never know,’ I say. Funny, clever, handsome, kind – that sounds exactly like the man Isabel should be getting serious with. ‘I’m so happy for you, honestly.’

‘Oh, and guess what?’ She sits back and smiles at me triumphantly. ‘He’s asked me if I want to go to Munich with him for a couple of days.’

‘No! Are you going to go?’

‘Definitely. He’ll have meetings during the day, but I can potter around and amuse myself, and then we’ll have the evenings together. And the nights.’

‘Perfect. I bet you any money you come back thinking that he might be the love of your life after all.’

‘Maybe.’ She smiles. ‘I’m trying to decide what to tell Alex. I need to ask him if he’ll have the girls.’

‘The truth,’ I say. ‘I’d love to see the look on his face when you tell him you’re going away with another man.’

‘Mmm,’ she says. ‘Maybe.’

‘Sod him. It’ll do him good to see that you’re moving on while he’s still a mess.’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘And if he gives you any problems you know we’ll have the girls. We’d love to.’

‘Thanks.’ She gives me a quick hug.

‘So, when can I meet him? Luke?’

‘Once we get back from Munich. I reckon that’s make-or-break time. If we still like each other once we’ve got through the snoring and the morning breath and the accidental wind breaking and whatever else, then I think we’ll be able to say we’re a proper couple.’

‘And that’s just you,’ I say, laughing. ‘I wonder what his faults are.’

‘Funny,’ she says. ‘You’re very funny.’

I don’t tell her about Dan and the woman in Edinburgh. I feel like if I do it will make it real, something that has to be analysed and talked about. I seem to be keeping a lot of secrets from her lately.

22

It’s been four work days and Lorna is still not back in the office. She hasn’t called in at all and the only reason we know she’s still in one piece is because I make Kay ring her every day to check. She has taken to screening her calls, but Kay stays on the line saying things like, ‘I’m going to keep talking until you pick up,’ or, today, ‘If you don’t answer, I’m going to call nine-nine-nine and have them come and break your door down,’ which results in Lorna picking up and screaming, ‘You’re so sacked,’ into the phone.

Kay, who has been getting braver by the day, is completely unfazed by this. ‘I hope you feel better soon,’ she says. ‘If you’re not here tomorrow, I’ll call you again to check you’re still OK.’

Joshua and Melanie are getting a little concerned, but Kay and I are going into overdrive to assure them that all is OK. Lorna calls us every day with pages of instructions for what needs doing, we tell them. All of her clients are happy.

I have no idea how long we can keep this up. You can get away with one week off work and have people believe you just have some kind of bug that the doctor has told you is highly contagious. Any longer and they’re going to start worrying that there’s something seriously wrong with you. So far I have placated Joshua and Melanie by telling them that what is up with Lorna is a kind of gastric flu, very debilitating and involving lots of vomiting and needing to stay within a few feet of the toilet. I’ve made the symptoms sound so revolting that they have stopped asking and have indicated that they’d rather not know the details.

The truth is that all Lorna’s clients do seem fairly happy, although for how long is another matter. Samuel got the part on
Nottingham General.
(Man who has been in a car accident caused by his own negligence, in which a young woman was killed, briefly comes into contact with one of the regular doctors whose sister has just died in similar circumstances. Cue much blame and emoting.) When the casting director calls us to tell us the news she also lays out the details of the offer – number of days, fee, billing and travel expenses – and I tell her I’ll run it all by Lorna and Samuel and get back to her.

It all looks fair enough to me but, just to be sure, I dial Lorna’s number in the hope that I can check with her. Samuel is her client after all. She doesn’t answer so I leave a message, knowing she’ll never call me back. I check through the files and it seems comparable with what other clients have been paid for similar jobs – but I know that I can’t make this decision on my own. Melanie is leafing through a script in her office so I go in and hover until she looks up and sees me. I show her the offer.

‘I don’t want to disturb Lorna, so I thought you could have a look. It seems OK to me, but…’

She looks through it. ‘The fee seems all right,’ she says.

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Everything else is fine. They don’t mention whether they’ll pay his overnights if the days end up being consecutive, though, and as the dates aren’t set in stone we should clarify that.’

She must notice my terrified expression because she says, ‘Do you want me to do it?’

Yes. Please. Yes, I do. But I worry that if I start inviting her or Joshua to get involved with Lorna’s clients while she’s absent then the whole charade is going to be exposed. I need them to think that everything is under control. The thought of having to negotiate even on such a small point is making me feel sick, though. ‘No. It’s fine. I can do it if you’re OK with that.’

She smiles, relieved not to have any extra work dumped on her. ‘I’d say, with that one caveat and if Samuel’s happy, then it’s fine. Let me know if you need me to do anything else, though,’ she adds in a voice that really says, ‘I’m busy. Please don’t bother me with this again.’

I call Samuel and tell him and he’s happy, which makes life a whole lot easier. If I had to go back and ask for more money, I think I’d take to my bed like Lorna.

Then I take a deep breath and call the casting director back. ‘We’re just a little concerned about overnights,’ I say. ‘If the days end up being consecutive, will they pay for his hotel?’

‘Let me check,’ she says, and I wait anxiously for her to call back. If she says no, I’m not exactly sure what I’m meant to do. Turn the job down? Roll over and say fine? Put my foot down and insist and risk them saying ‘we’ll cast someone else then’? Thankfully five minutes later I get a call back saying it’s fine, it’s the norm for them to pay overnights when necessary but, if it makes Samuel happy, they’ll add it to the contract.

‘Great,’ I say. ‘Let’s do that.’

And that’s it. It’s that simple. I have done a deal for a client all by myself. Well, almost. Six years after I joined the company and I have actually done something more than just pass on a message or arrange a time for an audition. I am feeling pleasantly smug and proud of myself and then Kay passes Marilyn Carson to me and she raises my mood even further.

‘I’ve just been speaking to Kate on
Reddington Road
,’ she says. ‘And they’re bringing in a new young family – mum, dad and two babies. Early twenties. They’re looking for unknowns but they don’t want to put the word out because they’ll be inundated with everyone who’s ever fancied themselves a soap star. I told them about Mary and I said you’d bike something over to them this afternoon.’

‘Marilyn, that’s great,’ I say. ‘But she doesn’t have anything. She’s never done anything on tape.’

‘Oh,’ Marilyn says, sounding disappointed. ‘Nothing? Well, I’ll have to tell them, but there’s no way they’ll meet her without seeing anything first…’

I know there’s no chance Mary will get the part but if I can at least get them to see her it’ll make her day.

‘Wait,’ I say. ‘What if we could get her in here this morning and just film her reading something. Would that be any good?’

‘Great idea,’ Marilyn says. ‘Just find a scene for her to read. Anything.’

I get her to tell me a bit more about the role – vulnerable working-class mum, we’ll find out later she’s a victim of domestic violence, sweet and caring in the face of adversity, soft-spoken but tough underneath.

‘It sounds just like Mary,’ I say. ‘Without the spousal abuse bit at least.’

‘Exactly,’ she says.

I tell Marilyn I’ll keep her posted and I get Mary on the phone. She’s at her waitressing job, but luckily all the staff, pretty much, are actors and they have an agreement that they’ll cover for each other in emergencies like this so she tells me she can be here in an hour. Meanwhile Kay and I scour the scripts that are lying around the office for something suitable for her to read. We find a scene in Gary’s cockney geezer film where a young mother is arguing with her gangster boyfriend that seems perfect. I call Isabel who I know is working from home today and I tell her I am sending a bike for her DVD camera.

When Mary arrives we sit her in Lorna’s office and point the camera at her. Kay agrees to read the boyfriend part. I have literally no idea what I’m doing but I figure what’s the worst that can happen? Either Mary gets an audition or she doesn’t. We do the scene three times and Mary seems great to me, but what do I know?

I get Kay to run off a copy of the DVD, and bike it straight over to the
Reddington Road
studios in Streatham. It’s only once we’ve done that that it occurs to me I should maybe have asked either Joshua or Melanie for their advice before I went ahead, but I got completely carried away in the moment and it’s too late now so Kay tells me there’s no point worrying about it. We sit nervously, waiting to see if anything will happen.

It doesn’t. At least, not today. No doubt Kate has hundreds of DVDs to wade through, I tell myself. I’m all hyped up, though, and at the end of the day I don’t feel like going straight home so I ask Kay if she fancies going to the pub for a quick one and, when she says yes, I call Dan just to check whether he minds giving the kids their tea, which, of course, he doesn’t. He’s always pretty easy going about that stuff but, at the moment, he’s trying even harder than usual to be nice to me.

Kay and I head over to the Crown and Two Chairmen and I get a vodka and tonic for her and a large white wine for myself. Even though we share a work space it’s the first time we’ve really had a chance to sit and chat about personal stuff because it’s been so crazy since she arrived.

Kay lives alone in a small house in Shepherd’s Bush. Her husband left when her youngest son – now eighteen – was only three and the elder one seven. It seems amazing to me that she’s brought the boys up on her own for all that time. Their father has only been in their lives sporadically. I wonder if she’s lonely, but it seems rude to ask. She’s very open about the fact that she’s returned to work because she was feeling un-needed at home, though. She didn’t know what to do with her time with no sports kits to wash and only the one bed to make. She has a tendency to talk about her sons rather a lot but, rather than being annoying, it’s endearing. She’s obviously so proud of them and the job she’s done bringing them up. I get the feeling she doesn’t hear from them very often, which is heartbreaking, but, I guess, that’s what happens when your kids go off to college. One minute you’re involved in every last detail of their lives, feeding them, picking up after them, arguing about who gets to watch what on TV and the next – nothing. You’re lucky if you get a five-minute phone call once a week.

I really like Kay. There’s something just very down to earth about her. I’m tempted to offload all my problems, but I worry that she’ll think I’m a drama queen or else some kind of emotional trauma magnet. I don’t know her well enough yet anyway, but I’m feeling like, I’m hoping, that one day we might be friends. And I’ve started to appreciate that I need more friends.

We resist the urge to have a second drink.

‘I have important deals to do tomorrow,’ I say, and she laughs.

As I make my way home I realize that a tiny part of me is hoping that Lorna doesn’t come in again in the morning.

Dan has dinner and wine ready when I walk through the door. He gets me in a bear hug. ‘Tell me all about your day,’ he says, kissing the top of my head and, for once, I do have some pretty interesting stuff to tell him.

Isabel is panicking about what to take to Munich.

‘What if we go somewhere posh both nights? I need to take two entirely different smart outfits,’ she says when she phones me for the third time.

‘Do you think he’s going to care what you’re wearing? I don’t think that’s why he’s invited you to go with him.’

‘What about a jacket? Do I need a jacket as well as a coat?’

She witters away like this on and off all evening. I have no doubt that the clothing anxiety masks a much more fundamental nervousness about the whole trip. This is a big step for Isabel and Luke. A test of how they get on cut off from their normal lives. Of course, Luke will be out all day so it’s not quite the full 24/7 experience, but they’ll get a pretty good idea whether or not they can stomach each other’s habits and peccadillos. The thought of having to go through all that again sends a shiver down my spine and I reach out and rub Dan’s arm and make apologetic faces about the fact that I am on the phone again.

I like the sound of Luke, though. He’s arranged a car with a driver to take Isabel to the airport so she doesn’t have to worry about fighting her way there on the tube. He’s bought her two guide books, and he’s marked up pages where he found interesting places she might want to visit while he’s working.

‘Just suggestions,’ he said, apparently, when she commented on it. ‘I don’t want you to think I’m trying to tell you what to do.’ Plus, he tells her, he’s booked a hotel with a spa in case she’d rather just relax. He’s very concerned, she tells me, in case she finds it dull having to amuse herself all day.

‘He sounds really nice,’ I say to her. ‘One of the good ones. You should hang on to him.’

‘I know,’ she says. ‘I’m starting to really like him.’

Alex, she tells me, seemed a little taken aback when she told him her plans. ‘I actually think he was upset. Genuinely.’

I scoff. ‘I should hope he is upset after the way he’s behaved.’

‘Maybe,’ Isabel says reluctantly, ‘but I don’t want him to be unhappy, though. I mean, it can’t be good for the girls for one thing.’

‘He’s manipulating you. You know what he’s like. Luke sounds like a much nicer guy. Don’t let worrying about Alex stop you from having a good time with him.’

‘I won’t,’ she says.

I tell her to have fun, to let her guard down, to just go with it and see what happens. All advice I would never heed myself. She promises to ring me once Luke has gone off to his first meeting and I tell her to remember she deserves this.

I nearly have a seizure when the alarm goes off at six thirty and then I remember that I decided to go in extra early today, to catch up with all the things I’m meant to have done for Joshua and Melanie in the past week. There’s no point jeopardizing my own job just to save Lorna’s.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ I say to Dan while I flap around trying to turn it off. I’m in the office by five past eight. It’s amazing how much you can get done when you have no distractions and by the time Melanie breezes in at twenty-five past nine I’ve caught up with all the essential stuff, plus I’ve read through a casting breakdown which was emailed in and I’ve made a note to suggest Kathryn for one of the roles.

Melanie takes her coat off and then comes and sits down in Kay’s chair, which makes me nervous.

‘Are you all right?’ I say, trying to act like everything’s normal.

‘Rebecca, what is really going on with Lorna?’ she asks. I have been dreading this conversation because of my inability to lie convincingly. I nearly spill it all out, it would be a relief actually, but I don’t know where that would leave Lorna, so I decide to offer up the half truth I have been rehearsing for this very occasion.

‘She’s not really got a virus,’ I say, and I try to look Melanie in the eye during this part, the true part. ‘I told you she split up with Alex?’ Melanie nods. ‘Well, she’s just taking it pretty hard, that’s all.’

‘I thought she dumped him?’