Pride, Prejudice and Jasmin Field (17 page)

‘William Whitby,’ she hissed dramatically.

Harry looked away, hiding his face.

‘Can you deny that you lied to a powerful Hollywood casting agent to halt his career while yours has soared into the stratosphere?’ She hadn’t mean to spit at him, but now that she had, she was glad.

Harry tried hard to control the emotion he felt. ‘You seem a bit obsessed with that man,’ he said finally.

Jazz was shouting very loud now. ‘He’s an innocent man who’s suffered at your hands through no fault

of his own! You’ve probably ruined his whole career, his life, through pure malice and self-obsession.’

Harry began to move away. ‘I can now see how repulsive you find me. I’m sorry that I tried—’

‘I HAVEN’T FINISHED!’ shouted Jazz.

Harry stood motionless, staring furiously at her.

‘But worse than all of that,’ she continued, ‘you’ve broken my adored sister’s heart, you — you - you odious little man.’

‘What? I don’t understand what you’re talking about.’

‘Don’t patronise me,’ warned Jazz.

Harry sighed.

‘She is upstairs in my flat now, crying her decent, big heart out because you told her idiot boyfriend that

if he wanted his career to go anywhere, he had to chuck her. Can you deny it?’

Harry looked straight at her. ‘No. Why should I?’ he said. ‘I’d do the same again. Actors need to be focused — especially actors like Jack. He had lost his focus and was about to lose his agent.’ He laughed bitterly to himself. ‘I only wish I’d been as tough on myself.’

Jazz stared at him in disbelief. How could he be so cold-hearted about George?

Harry took advantage of the pause and drew himself up before speaking. ‘Perhaps though, Ms. Field, none of these petty excuses would have come out if I had professed myself under the spell of your precious name - your brilliant by-line? If I had pretended you were in the same league as me and had people flocking to see you so much as break wind on stage?’

Jazz spoke clearly and with fire in her belly. ‘The words don’t exist in the English vocabulary that could have tempted me to fancy you,’ she said, desperately trying to hide the hurt in her voice. ‘I knew all I needed to know about you before you even deigned to look in my direction. You are the most repulsively arrogant and solipsistic man I have ever had to spend my precious time with. And I’ve met a lot of actors. You are unattractive to me in every way.’ For good measure she added the lie as she turned away, ‘And for your information, I prefer blonds.’

The forecourt light went out again just then so Jazz never saw the skin around Harry’s eyes blanch at

her words. She just heard his car door slam and the engine start up as the tears she’d managed to quell

for her sister now started running down her cheeks.

*

‘Harry Noble tried to snog you? George had stopped crying suddenly.

‘There’s no need to sound quite so surprised,’ sniffed Jazz.

‘But Jazz, this is Harry Noble, Hollywood icon. He could get anyone. I’m staggered.’

Jazz blew her nose and started laughing angrily at the ridiculous situation. ‘Yes, so was he. A fact he felt he needed to remind me of frequently.’

She decided she wasn’t going to explain that Harry had confessed quite so readily to being responsible

for Jack’s chucking her. After all, it would only hurt George to know people like him really did exist. It would be like telling a child there was no Santa Claus.

George slept in Mo’s bed that night and both sisters had a fitful, unhappy night.

Jazz’s weekend was spent trying to cheer George up, which was fine by her. She needed something to take her mind off the ridiculous episode, which was becoming more and more laughable to her. It was such a bizarre experience - she was both hugely insulted and flattered at the same time. But of course,

the insults were what stung the most. Unknown hack! How dare he! Eight hundred thousand readers a week was hardly unknown. Bastard.

Jazz knew that if they stayed in, George would practically sit on the phone, willing it to ring. She had to keep her busy. They went shopping, to the cinema and out for dinner. George tried to talk of other things, but couldn’t help returning to Jack. Jazz felt overwhelmed with sadness for her sister. Why couldn’t she find love? She was so achingly lovable. What was wrong with the men out there?

George had always managed to look on the bright side before. This time, however, there was no bright side. Her voice seemed an octave lower than before and she spoke slower as if the very effort of thinking was too much for her.

Jazz was so worried, that as the weekend progressed, she found she didn’t have the mental space to think about the amazing Harry Noble incident. It was only when she was in the shower - practically the only time she was without George all weekend — that the enormity of Saturday night’s compliment finally hit home. Wow. Bloody wow, she thought. It was a big compliment. Such a star - such a famous name - such a - such a … She thought hard. Such a wanker.

Men, she thought as she dried herself off. However you look at it, they’re all wankers. Of the highest order.

First thing the next day, Jazz clicked into her e-mails as usual to see if there were any messages. Oh goodie, she thought. There was only one but it had a very intriguing title. It said simply SORRY. Maybe Mo had written to tell her she was chucking Gilbert and coming home with a truck-load of Mars Bars.

Eagerly she double-clicked it. She gasped when she realised it was a massively long letter from Harry Noble. She scrolled down all of it, her eyes frantically scanning odd phrases here and there. We got on well at first. You are terrifying. Matt Jenkins knows …

She didn’t know what to read first. With a supreme effort of self-control, she scrolled to the beginning

and began to read.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Sorry

Jasmin

Don’t panic. This is not a begging letter. I can’t quite believe I tried what I tried on Saturday and I’m really sorry for both of us that I did it.

Excuse the e-mail, but I just felt I had to have my say and I couldn’t think of a better way to talk to you without risking a broken jaw. I actually got this idea from Darcy, when he wrote

a letter to Elizabeth. Remember? (Some say I take on the roles I play too wholeheartedly. But I don’t think Darcy’s such a bad example to follow, do you?)

The truth is, Jasmin, you laid some rather serious accusations at my door and I can’t help but want to put the record straight. I hope none of what I tell you hurts you but I’m sorry if it does.

First things first, your accusation that I lied out of pure malice and ruined William Whitby’s Hollywood career. If it were true, that would have been a completely outrageous thing to do. But I didn’t lie. I hate to be the one to break the bad news to you, but William Whitby

is not what he appears to be. And I should know.

A long time ago now, I was in a production of Waiting for Godot with William. We got on well at first. He’s a good actor and - as I’m sure you know - he has a very endearing way with him. My younger sister agreed with me. You probably know Carrie, she’s the costume designer with us and she’s been to a couple of rehearsals. Long red hair? Very quiet? Well anyway, within a few weeks they were going out together and she was completely besotted with him. I was really happy for her, as she’s shy and a lot of men don’t even notice she’s there.

For a while everything was fine. Then at one rehearsal I noticed she was wearing shades. When I asked her why, she acted really suspiciously. I knew something was up but didn’t want to pursue it. Carrie can be very stubborn. It wasn’t until two months later when I was giving her a lift back from a family do that I found out. She told me that whenever William got drunk - which was pretty often - he became violent. He had hit her several times. I couldn’t believe it. He seemed so genuinely kind. When I expressed doubt at her word, she almost got hysterical. If I didn’t believe her, how would anyone else? I tried to convince her to stop going out with him but she wouldn’t. She told me he was always so sorry afterwards and so gentle and loving. It actually seemed to make her feel more special and between you and me, I think it made her feel she was involved in a very passionate affair. She’d always wanted passion in her life and now she was getting it.

I was distraught. They kept going out with each other all the way through the rehearsals and even the production. I detested him by now but he was always a real pro with me. I assumed he had no idea she’d told me. But not so. When I alluded to it once in conversation - sick to the pit of my stomach at his chummy act with me - he actually

winked at me and said (I’ll never forget it): ‘Sometimes it’s the only way to get some

peace and quiet.’

He seemed to take offence when I stopped going to the pub with him, but apart from that you’d never have guessed from him that there was any tension between us. I watched him with my sister and I could see that he fed off her insecurity. Carrie’s never been hugely secure - I guess it’s part of being from a largely acting family and choosing not to be an actress. She thinks everyone’s disappointed in her which couldn’t be further from the truth. But her weakness was his strength.

Even worse, whenever Carrie wasn’t needed at rehearsal, William would flirt outrageously with the props woman, who obviously had a crush on him. I think they even went out a couple of times - who knows what went on? By now I thoroughly despised the man. I didn’t know what to do. Should I tell Carrie that he might be having a fling with someone else -which would break her heart, and anyway she probably wouldn’t believe me - or should I watch him going on abusing my sister?

The problem was solved when I got a phone call from her in the middle of the night. She was almost hysterical; I could hardly understand what she was saying. I went round there immediately and discovered her lying in a pool of blood. I phoned for an ambulance and she was rushed into an emergency operation. Four hours later, a doctor came out and told me the baby had died and Carrie would probably never be able to have any more children. You can imagine how I felt. I’d had no idea she was even pregnant. I was by her bed when she woke up and she immediately broke down and confessed everything to me. When she’d told William that she was pregnant, he’d gone out, got drunk, come home and, in a drunken rage -during which he accused her of trying to trap him - he punched her in the stomach and then walked out on her. Even then she needed some persuading to break it off with him.

I had to enlist the help of Matt Jenkins. He was working as producer on the play and I ended up turning to him for some support. It was he who convinced me to talk to the director, Alan Mellis, who got rid of William as soon as he had found a replacement. And it was Matt who finally convinced Carrie to finish with William. Maybe she found him more neutral than me. Matt was wonderful - he still is. He visited Carrie in hospital and saw everything. If you think I would - or could - make up a story like this, please talk to him.

He knows that I’ve told you this. We’re very close and I’d trust him with my life.

When the Hollywood agent Howard Fleaback asked me what I thought of William, I told

him the truth. What William doesn’t know is that I also told him that he’s a fine actor. And

I really believe that. He is acting all the time.

It might seem odd to you that I would give him a part in another play. It is odd. I regret it bitterly, but Carrie convinced me to do it. She has undergone lengthy therapy since finishing with William and for some strange reason she now feels she needs to see him to get him out of her system. Otherwise she’s always hearing about him through other actors and it makes her feel he’s somehow got a hold over her. At first I was very dubious about this, but it seems to be working. She told me last week that she can’t now understand what she saw in him, which as you can imagine, was a massive relief to me.

I’ve been watching him too, and saw with no great surprise that he immediately picked you out as a favourite. I desperately wanted to warn you - not just for my own selfish reasons but for your own safety. However, it soon became obvious to me that you wouldn’t be such an easy target as my sister was. And I think it soon became obvious to William too. Maybe you’ve noticed that he hasn’t been troubling himself to get seriously involved with you, despite the meaningless flirting. I think it’s because he can see that you’ve got too big a personality to be controlled like Carrie and so I suppose you’ve lost much of your appeal

for him. Thank God! And he’s right - you would never let yourself be beaten by a man. I now know from personal experience that in a one-to-one, you can be terrifying.

And now for your second accusation - that I have single-handedly broken your sister’s heart.

How can I put this without hurting you? I’m not sure I can. Anyway, here goes.

Before I met your sister, I had heard about her. I know lots of actors and - how can I put

this delicately? your sister had, at one time or another, known most of them too.

In fact, I don’t know of any play she’s ever been in when she’s not got involved with a fellow actor. I’m not judging or blaming, it’s just a fact. There are actors who are just like that. And in all fairness, exactly the same can be said of Jack. He can’t go to an audition without falling passionately in love with whoever playing opposite him. I suppose you could say they’re two of a kind. Jack is always on at me to guide him and show him how to focus himself in his work - he’s much more ambitious than he appears -and I want to help him. I love Jack like a brother. So I told him: Stop the womanising. His career could be fantastic

if he would only apply himself. There will be lots of important casting agents in the audience for this production. If Jack is emotionally or physically drained and totally unfocused (like he is in most of his performances), he will get overlooked yet again.

Believe me, he has the potential to be great and I find it bloody frustrating that he wastes his time on one-minute wonders. And from watching your sister with him, that is all I