Jackal's Dance (33 page)

Sean went to protest but Matt knew what Gayle was up to. He placed himself in front of the ranger. ‘She's in good hands,' he whispered. ‘Trust her.'

Feeling helpless, Sean watched the actress lead Thea away. He hoped Matt Grandville knew what he was talking about. Given any kind of choice, Gayle Gaynor was the last person he'd have turned to for help.

Thea walked with Gayle towards bungalow seven. Neither spoke. Thea was wondering what the actress wanted. Gayle, knowing there was no script for this performance, had already decided what tack to take.

‘Here we are, darling. Come in.'

Shutting the door, Gayle went to a suitcase and produced an unopened bottle of Glenfiddich. ‘I don't usually drink this stuff, it's Matt's actually, but he won't mind.'

Thea shook her head. ‘I shouldn't. I've had a couple already and they went straight to my head.'

Gayle ignored the half-hearted protest and poured two generous drinks. ‘You should. Sip slowly and let the alcohol work for you, not against you.'

‘I'm pregnant. I shouldn't be drinking at all.' But Thea took the glass.

‘You lucky, lucky thing. I've always wanted a baby.' Gayle hadn't, but Thea wasn't to know. ‘Unfortunately, I could never fall pregnant.' She could, and did. Three times. Abortions took care of her little accidents.

‘Lucky?' Thea managed a brief laugh.

‘Extremely.' Gayle sipped her drink, watching Thea's face. The girl was intelligent, possessed maturity. She would not appreciate an indirect approach. Nor would she tolerate being told what to do. ‘I heard all that back there.' Gayle ticked off three things on her fingers. ‘You're pregnant. You've split up with your old man. And my guess is that young ranger, what's-his-name, oh yes, Sean, comes
into the picture too. Now tell me, darling, did your husband give you that shiner? I have some excellent cover-up you can have.'

Thea's fingertips gingerly touched her eye.

Gayle cut straight to the heart of things. ‘I've read hundreds, if not thousands, of film scripts. It may surprise you but they tend to follow real life quite closely.' She smiled slightly. ‘Well, the ones I get these days certainly do. Let me see if I can put your situation together. Marriages don't break up as a rule when the wife is expecting a baby, unless of course her husband doesn't want one. If that's the case, news of your pregnancy would have been most unwelcome. So you had a big fight, he said some horrible things, you were upset and went looking for comfort.'

Thea was wide-eyed watching her, so Gayle plunged on. ‘When emotions run that high, wires sometimes get crossed. You end up in bed with a rather gorgeous young ranger, your husband catches you at it and pops you one. How am I doing so far?' Gayle didn't wait for a response, not expecting one. ‘So you move into that sweet little bungalow next door and wonder how the hell a day could get so fucked up?' Gayle tilted her head and smiled. ‘And you call
that
a bad day? Let me tell you about a bad day.'

When she wanted to, Gayle could call up an imagination that matched anyone's. Switching subtly into performance mode, she watched her audience closely while improvising one calamitous event after another. She grabbed examples from
everywhere – film scripts, the experiences of others, a few of her own – and skilfully wove them into a tale of a day from hell. By lunchtime, so the story went, she had been stuck in a lift, had a flat tyre, caught the wrong train, lost her handbag and had Thea smiling. By mid-afternoon, improvisation had the heel off her shoe, she'd forgotten her lines, half the film set had collapsed, the leading man had developed laryngitis and Thea was giggling. Finally, as Gayle launched into the finale with an outrageously complicated and totally untrue drama of her cat choking, a burst waterpipe and the police arresting her boyfriend for indecent exposure . . . ‘The poor boy was only relieving himself in the garden because he'd lost his key and I had rushed to the vet – sod the waterpipe, darling, poor little Pookie had a bone stuck in his throat – it was all too perfectly dreadful . . .' Thea was bent double with laughter.

‘I don't believe you,' Thea said, gaining control of herself. ‘There's no way all that could have happened in a single day.'

Gayle smiled, delighted with herself. ‘Well, time might have played a few tricks with my memory but I needed to get your attention.'

‘You did that all right.'

‘Good.'

‘And there's nothing you need? You brought me here because you wanted to talk?'

‘Sometimes it's easier to confide in a stranger. What have you got to lose? I'm here today, gone tomorrow. You were ready to burst back there in
the bar and it was pretty obvious that your friends didn't quite know what to do with you.'

Thea regarded Gayle for a moment. ‘Why are you doing this?'

‘The big sister bit?' When Thea nodded, Gayle went on. ‘God knows! It's a bit of a worry actually. I'm not normally this nice.' She smiled. ‘Maybe the bottom line is, I like you.'

Thea looked a little guilty. ‘It's very unprofessional of me to allow my personal problems to impact on a guest.'

‘Crap!' Gayle burst out bluntly. She sat down and patted the couch indicating that Thea should join her. ‘I've spent most of my life copying people,' she began. ‘Seen some things in my time, I can tell you. Good and bad. I study the looks on people's faces in all sorts of situations – tragedy, joy, you name it. When everyone else is listening to the words, I'm watching people's expressions. I need that to make my characters alive on screen. It's amazing what you can do with the smallest facial change.' She hesitated, then seemed to go off on a tangent. ‘Have you ever heard of a freeze-frame?'

Surprised, Thea nodded. ‘It's where a single frame of videotape is seen as a static image.'

Gayle waved a hand at Thea's drink. ‘Take a sip.' When she did, Gayle continued. ‘I took one look at you, my dear, and could see from your eyes that emotion was frozen. You were in a freeze-frame and it was scaring the hell out of you. Want to tell me about it?'

Before she could stop herself, Thea let it all out.
Everything, from meeting Billy right up to the present. She omitted nothing, needing the cathartic relief of baring all.

Gayle listened in complete silence. When Thea finally fell silent the actress rose, poured them both another malt, and put her finger right on the button. ‘You loved him and now you don't. That bothers you. You're wondering if you really could be so callous? And if you're not, then when is some emotion going to surface? That scares you. But, you tell yourself, you must be shallow or how else could you have had sex with Sean? That disgusts you. And by the way, darling, I can't say I blame you for that, he's a real cutie-pie. Now, where was I? Okay, so you're doubting yourself, scared and disgusted. On top of that, being pregnant and on your own really pisses you off.' Gayle leaned back, savouring her drink. ‘That's a whole range of emotions in there, darling. They need to be dealt with one at a time, not all at once. Your system just went on meltdown for a while. Throw in a little guilt for good measure and you were on your way to a breakdown. Total mental overload.'

‘But I don't know what to do.' Thea sounded frustrated. ‘I feel nothing.'

‘What rubbish. Of course you do. You feel so much that your brain decided it's switch-off time. There's your freeze-frame, honey.' Gayle smiled. ‘Now, the way I see it is this. You have no control over which feeling is let out first. All you can do is be ready to receive it.'

Thea was listening. ‘You make it sound so simple.'

‘It is. Trepidation is nine-tenths anticipation.' Gayle stopped and considered her words. ‘Remember I said that. Damn I'm good.'

Thea smiled.

‘That's better.' She watched Thea over the rim of her glass before setting it down on the table. ‘Let's play a little game, okay?'

‘Game!' The last thing Thea felt like was playing games.

‘I'm an actress, right? I feed on emotion. Bear with me. Now, we've got doubt, fear, disgust, anger and guilt. How will you deal with them?'

‘That's one hell of a choice.'

‘Think about it.'

‘Well,' Thea said slowly, ‘anger is healthy enough so I'll just let that one come and go.'

Gayle nodded. ‘Excellent.'

‘Doubt, disgust and guilt are head problems.' She gave a sly grin. ‘Actually, I'm not all that disgusted or guilty. What happened between Sean and me seemed pretty natural and I'll be damned if I'm going to take all the blame.'

Gayle's eyes twinkled approvingly.

Thea was warming to the subject. ‘Doubting myself might take a bit of time but I've got friends and family I can turn to for help. As for fear, if I face it head on . . . Well, things are seldom as bad as you think they're going to be.' She broke off, looked pensive, then laughed. ‘My God! I feel better already.'

‘There you go. Nothing to worry about.'

‘I wouldn't say that but, thanks to you, my
freeze-frame, as you put it, feels a little more animated.'

‘Hang in there.'

‘There's another possibility, though. One emotion you left out.'

‘There is?'

‘What if all I feel is relief?'

Gayle threw back her head and gave a throaty cackle. ‘Wouldn't that be something?' She watched Thea's face for a moment before asking, ‘May I offer a little well-meant advice?'

‘Do I want to hear it?'

‘Probably not, but I'll tell you anyway. I've only spoken to your husband once but, darling, I know a great deal about men. He's a selfish prick. The ranger though, that's a different story. He's in love with you.' She grinned wickedly. ‘I don't believe I'm seeing this. Now you just stop that. I didn't think young women blushed any more.'

Thea turned away. She was smiling.

‘I told you earlier that I like you. I meant it,' Gayle said softly. ‘Liking other people is a bit unusual for me. Not to dwell on the subject, the bald truth is I'm usually a bitch. No, no,' she added dryly when Thea made no comment, ‘you can't convince me otherwise, don't waste your breath. Just ask Matt. Maybe I see in you the young woman I might have been.' She gave a brief laugh. ‘Or maybe that's just wishful thinking. Whatever, if you return to London I'd like to think you'd come and see us. Will you?'

‘I'd like that.'

The door of the bungalow opened as if on cue. Gayle clapped her hands. ‘Oh goodie, here's Matt with a little sustenance. Thank you, lover. Mmmm, looks good. Afraid we're making a bit of a mess of your scotch, Mattie.'

‘Help yourselves.'

‘We already have.' Gayle noticed that Thea was eyeing the food and gave Matt a quick thumbs-up. ‘We'll join you all for coffee. Is that okay with you, Thea?'

Matt could see that she was in better shape than she had been at the bar.

‘Maybe not.' Thea smiled. ‘It's been quite a day.'

‘Whatever you feel like.' Gayle made a shooing motion to Matt with her hand. ‘See you later, lover. We're in the middle of girl-talk.'

Back in the dining room, responding to an unspoken question in Sean's eyes, Matt was able to tell him that Thea, having been a rare recipient of Gayle's softer side, was coming along nicely. ‘She'll probably head straight to bed after she's eaten.'

‘Is she still upset?'

‘Not that I could see. When Gayle wants to, she has an extraordinary talent for helping people. Despite all the prima donna bullshit, underneath she's a very caring person. And a great listener. Thea looked calmer, almost relaxed. At a guess I'd say Gayle has got her talking. It's the best thing possible.'

Sean nodded. ‘Your Miss Gaynor is quite a lady.'

‘Yes she is,' Matt agreed soberly. ‘When she wants to be, which isn't very often.'

Sean smiled. ‘Often enough, though.'

‘Just.' Matt laughed. ‘She's hell on wheels most of the time but how do you explain who you love?'
How indeed?

Hewn from a single massive tree, the dining room table at Logans Island Lodge was ten metres long and over a metre wide. Its silky smooth top, one hundred and fifty millimetres thick, a glowing rich red colour with knots and grain providing a contour-like darker pattern. Many a wealthy guest tried, unsuccessfully, to buy it. The table had been constructed
in situ
since its central supporting legs were set in steel pipe plinths bolted to the floor. Seating thirty with ease on rustic but solid matching chairs, fourteen along each side and one at either end, settings were arranged so that everyone mingled at mealtimes, encouraging an almost family atmosphere. Sean and Matt sat together at one end, flanked by James and Mal, both Gayle Gaynor devotees. Matt was only too happy to answer their questions. It made a nice change for Sean not to be the one on the often repetitive receiving end. He only half-listened to Matt. His heart and mind were with Thea.

Felicity and Philip took places next to each other and found themselves having a conversation about malaria tablets until Philip, with mock sincerity, said, ‘Gosh, this is serious stuff.'

Felicity grinned. ‘Just goes to show how mundane we writers can be.'

‘And why not?' Philip demanded. ‘Why should the great unwashed be the only ones?'

She wagged a finger at him. ‘Politically incorrect.'

‘Too bad.'

‘You said it! I haven't heard a man thumb his nose at current-day convention in ages.'

‘Don't tell me you're into SNAGs?'

‘Would you care for a politically correct response or the truth?'

‘Truth.'

Felicity considered her answer, decided
to hell with it
, and came straight out with, ‘Super new-age guys bore the tits off me.'