Second Chances (7 page)

In
a tight red sequinned dress that shimmered and caught the light with every movement, Allegra straddled the prone Jack on-screen, put her hands on either side of his face, bent forward to… Allegra glanced over at Jack. He was grinning, first at the scene unfolding on the TV screen, then at her, catching her looking at him. He came over, still holding his beer, threw his arms around her and pulled her close, much to Clive’s obvious annoyance.

‘That was hot… so hot,’ he murmured, referring to the scene, emphasising the words as his lips brushed her hair.

‘Did the earth move for you, too?’ she asked, laughing, referring to the mad “earthquake” effect she’d put over the scene to make it less sexual and more comedic.

‘Did it move? Sweetheart, the whole solar system shook.’

Jack
released her from the hug, but kept one arm very casually, very deliberately, over her shoulders as he put his beer down on the table behind them and took out his cigarettes. He placed one in his lips and pulled her towards him, lighting it on the end of hers. That was the thing about Jack. He could say the most throwaway, seemingly jokey things, then do something like that which was so overtly, so intensely sexual that it threw her off balance.

Clive,
meanwhile, was in danger of his head exploding in flames if he glowered any harder, watching them cuddling and giggling like teenagers on their second date. So even he was thrown when Jack suddenly turned to him, removed his arm from around Allegra and held out his hand.

‘Hey – I want to thank you, thank you so much for that phone call,’ he said to Clive, who looked as confused as Allegra felt. What phone call, she thought. ‘If it hadn’t been for you calling me about that Buckland project’ — ah, that phone call — ‘I’d never have met these guys and had such a wicked time.’

‘No problem at all, just sorry I exposed you to them. I should apologise, really… And thank you for saying you’d do it so that I wouldn’t have to.’ Clive practically choked on his words, realising he had only himself to blame for the chance meeting between his would-be paramour, Allegra, and this boy she’d never have met if it hadn’t been for him, Clive.

‘No, don’t thank me!’ Jack said. ‘I loved it’ — he looked directly at Allegra, that look again — ‘and it’s been totally wicked. So thank you.’

Shaking
Clive’s hand furiously, probably helping to pump up his blood pressure even further, Allegra thought to herself, trying not to laugh.

The
film was a great success, everyone cheered and applauded at the end. Liz and Allegra did their little bouncy hug dance in the kitchen afterwards, relieved it had gone down so well, and then the party settled down comfortably into groups. Inside, the boys had taken out Liz’s guitar and were taking turns showing off; she brought out her brand new banjo and Pip had gone into paroxysms of excitement.

The
smokers retired outside to the patio: Allegra, Clive, and Jack. Allegra had been careful to be the first to choose her spot, curling up at one end of the longer sofa. Clive had sat down next, on the smaller sofa, but deliberately placing himself so that his legs were spread out directly in front of Allegra; she’d have to basically climb over him if she wanted to get up. Then Jack came along and, first of all, in what she could only imagine was a bid to appease Clive’s simmering jealousy, sat down next to him on the smaller sofa. Allegra muffled a laugh at the sight of the two boys crammed next to each other, when there was obviously acres of room beside her.

‘Oh, come and sit next to me,’ she eventually said to Jack, patting the space next to her. He’d needed no second invitation, leapt over and flung himself down next to her, nuzzling up to her as he began rolling a joint so expertly that he didn’t even have to look at what he was doing. Clive stewed. Annoyed by his reaction, and egged on by that second glass of wine, Allegra rearranged her legs so that she was now facing Jack and away from Clive. Hah! That would show him.

Jack
was chatting away to both of them, making sure he included Clive in as much neutral conversation as possible. Eventually, lulled and somewhat mollified, Clive felt safe enough to give in to the urgent calls from his bladder and left the two of them there by themselves. Allegra watched him go into the house, hoping he wouldn’t return too promptly.

Jack
was onto his fourth or fifth spliff of the night, clearly relaxed and happy. He’d shifted position towards her, so that his head was leaning on her shoulder, dangerously close to her breast, and he’d gaze up at her when he spoke, smiling that smile, holding her hand. Allegra felt giddy with happiness.

‘I really like this relationship we have, where we can flirt madly with each other and just when we get to the point where you’d think we’d be tearing off each other’s clothes and going for it… we don’t,’ he said, beaming at her.

Doesn’t
seem so great to me, Allegra thought to herself.

‘You’ve got to be the coolest person I’ve ever met. I mean, I thought you were cool right from the start, then I found out you have two kids and that made you even cooler, and you’re not just cool, but you’re so hot and sexy and incredible...’ He was nuzzling the base of her neck now; their fingers once again tightly intertwined, her free hand stroking the crook of his arm, lightly moving over his bicep; God, he had nice arms, she thought.

‘So it doesn’t bother you that I’m that much older than you?’ She didn’t want to ask, but had to: she needed to know.

‘How old are you?’ he asked. ‘You can’t be much older than me. I’ve never been with a woman older than me.’

She pulled away slightly, looked at him. ‘How old do you think I am? Go on, honest answer, no hard feelings.’

He
looked at her. She couldn’t tell if he was genuinely trying to gauge her age, or if he was assessing how many years he should shave off his answer in order not to upset her.

‘I don’t know… 28, maybe? Can’t be more than 30.’

She
laughed, wanted to kiss him. Even if he’d taken five years off his honest opinion out of politeness, he was still way off the mark.

‘I’m 40.’

‘No way.’

‘Yep, I’m afraid so.’ She took a breath, waiting for his next response. Would he recoil in horror that he’d been flirting with someone a good 15 years older than himself? Would he now suddenly notice the fine lines on her face, the softness of her slightly bulging, post-babies belly, the fact that her breasts were no longer perky nor quite where they used to be? Then, he grinned at her again.

‘That makes you even cooler than I first thought. You don’t look 40. You don’t even look 30. You’re still so hot…. Mmmmmn…’

Again,
the grab-and-nuzzle manouevre. Allegra wanted to laugh and cry with disbelief, with relief. If he really was freaked out by finding out her age, he was doing a damn good job of covering up, especially considering how stoned he was.

‘So when was the first time you decided I was yummy?’ she asked him, trying to make light of what he was saying. He was babbling, it was the happy hash talking, she told herself.

‘The first second I saw you,’ he said. ‘I wanted to just grab you and…. Mmmmn.’

He
buried his face in her chest, pulling her closer to him. Allegra wrapped her arms around the boy, holding him, desperately wanting to lift his face towards her and kiss him, to push him back on the sofa and sit astride him, look into those incredible grey eyes and then kiss him again, longer, deeper, more intensely, until neither of them could fight the feelings any more and they—

‘If I didn’t have a girlfriend, I’d be all over you.’

He’d
pulled back slightly, looked up into her eyes. Torn between being incredibly turned on by the thought that Jack wanted to be “all over” her, and crushed because he wasn’t (out of loyalty? love? for his girlfriend), Allegra took a slow breath and tried to think straight.

‘But
this is great, we can cuddle and everything… and it is never going to happen,’ he continued, oblivious to the turmoil reeling inside her head and her heart.

‘Why is it never going to happen?’

The
words were out before she could stop them. There, it was said. But she had to know. There were plenty of guys with girlfriends who not just flirted with other girls, but quite often slept with them too, and seemingly had no problems dealing with the issues. Jack looked at her, perhaps finally sensing at last that maybe she was not handling the moment as easily and blithely as he was.

‘Because
I’m a good boy,’ he said, gently, almost regretfully. ‘I mean, I guess I flirt with a lot of girls, but you… you’re special to me, Allegra. But I couldn’t do that to Abi. I know she also goes out and flirts with other guys, but she’d never do anything, either... That’s just the way I am… Too much of a gentleman.’ He smiled.

Special
to him? Even though he flirted with other girls, she was “special” to him? Was that the truth, a blow-off, or just another bullshit line he fed to those other girls as well? Too tired from the wine, the late hour, the spliffs she’d shared with him, Allegra couldn’t process any of it. She decided that was probably for the best, so she smiled at him as he slid back into her arms, taking a drag on another joint and lifting it up to her lips so that she could have a drag herself.

‘As
good as a kiss,’ Allegra told herself, laughing at something else he’d said, trying not to cry.

What
she wasn’t to know was that, although Jack had begged and pleaded her not to, Abi had moved out of their flat some six months earlier. It was to give them both breathing space, she said. They were in each other’s hair and on each other’s nerves living together. If he really wanted to make their relationship work, it would be best for them to live separately for a while.

So,
although she still kept some of her things at his place, Abi moved in with three of her female friends who shared a fairly large apartment in Mid-Levels. It was also closer to work for her, she pointed out. Jack didn’t get it; if their relationship was in trouble, surely her moving out was its death knell. But Abi had refused to be deterred.

Unaware
of all this, that night, on the way home, still too stunned to think clearly, Allegra tried to mentally prepare herself for the inevitable crash when she woke up the next day. She’d be despondent, depressed, probably even cry secretly in the shower where she could pretend she got shampoo in her eyes if one of the kids should wander in and see her.

When
Jack had left the party, he’d given her a huge bear hug, looked into her eyes and then hugged her again, this time not just nuzzling the side of her neck but giving her a series of kisses, nibbling his way down to her shoulder; she could feel his stubble against her skin and she wanted to never let him go. But she had to, of course. He had a girlfriend to go home to. And Clive had very determinedly stayed on, eyeing the goodbye like a furiously disapproving father.

When
he’d finally left himself, some 10 minutes later, he had also grabbed Allegra in a bear hug, but it was an aggressive, angry hug that hurt her and made his point. He was not pleased. Allegra couldn’t give a shit. It was none of his business. And behaving that way was certainly not likely to make her fall for him, dammit. Why couldn’t he see what a complete arse he was being? She was relieved when he finally exited through the front gate and got into a cab.

The
next day, however, the crash didn’t happen. Allegra woke feeling inexplicably happy; when she looked in the mirror, she was surprised to see how light and joyful her eyes were, how her face seemed to glow. She couldn’t understand it. Nothing had happened with Jack, they hadn’t even kissed, he’d made it clear nothing would ever happen as long as he was with his girlfriend (who, Allegra decided, she hated more than anyone else on the planet at that moment in time). None of it made any sense.

‘I wish you didn’t have a girlfriend,’ she’d said to Jack the night before. Later, when she jokingly told him she’d like to push Abi under a bus, he’d seemed genuinely shocked, insisted that he was sure they’d really get on, that she was a lovely person. Allegra hrrumphed inwardly but graciously agreed with him, saying it was a shame she hadn’t been able to come along to the party because they’d be best friends by the end of the evening.

‘Friends
close, enemies closer,’ she thought grimly to herself.

Chapter Ten

K CLOSED HER eyes and massaged her temples vigorously. She was going to go mad, it was that simple.

Oddly,
though, it was never the models themselves who were the problem. It was their so-called “managers”. The models were paid by the shift, they didn’t care what you asked them to wear (or take off) or argue about poses or settings or lighting. They simply stood there, beautiful, blank canvases for K to paint her artistic vision on. Their managers, on the other hand, were the royal pains in the backside. Particularly when it came to those models who had, through excess partying and over-exposure in Hong Kong’s paparazzi columns, attained a degree of notoriety which, in this fickle town of skin-deep superficiality, equated with “fame”.

Today,
it was Binksy’s aunt, doubling as her manager, who was giving K a hard time. Binksy was a gorgeous 19-year-old Eurasian who had hit the genetic jackpot: slanting, heavy-lidded green eyes, waist-long chestnut hair that rippled naturally like ocean waves and skin that recalled the colour of a milky latté. It was her lips, however, that had brought her to prominence; Angelina Jolie had nothing on this girl.

‘Binksy cannot wear that dress you gave her,’ Auntie proclaimed. ‘It is not pretty.’

‘It’s haute couture, and even if Binksy sold your house, she couldn’t afford to buy that dress,’ K replied. ‘That dress is not even about fashion anymore; it is about art. It was flown in direct from Paris specifically for this shoot. Binksy will wear it.’

‘No,’ insisted Auntie. ‘She will wear the other dress. The blue one with the ruffles. That one is pretty.’

Binksy,
meanwhile, lit another Marlboro Ultra Light and looked fed-up. Auntie meant well, but she had no clue about fashion. Binksy could see that the emerald green gown that K had selected for her was the prize piece of the shoot. That would be the show-stopper. It would more than likely mean the cover shot for her. But once Auntie got going, no one could stop her.

‘Tea?’ Allegra asked. Binksy shook her head, tried to smile. This lady was always nice to her. Most everybody else ignored her, called her “stuck-up” behind her back just because she got her photo in the society pages more than anyone else. She couldn’t help that. Auntie insisted on dragging her to every single event in town. She’d go to the opening of an envelope if she believed it would guarantee Binksy another centimetre of coverage in the tabloids.

‘No, no tea, thank you. How long do you think this will go on?’ she asked, indicating the verbal head-butting session that was taking place between Auntie and K. ‘The shoot can’t go on until it’s resolved, and it’s not fair on the rest of the models here. I know some of them have other bookings to get to.’

Not
for the first time, Allegra wondered how someone as sweet and thoughtful as Binksy could have survived as long as she had in the cut-throat, bitchy world of modelling. She looked over at Auntie and K, still deadlocked over the issue of the dress. She knew K would never back down, least of all for a stroppy, self-important, so-called manager who apparently was living out her own dreams of fame vicariously through her charge.

‘I’ve got an idea,’ Allegra said to Binksy. ‘Just try and look a little tired, would you?’

“That’ll be easy,’ Binksy said. ‘This is my fifth shoot in three days. I haven’t seen my bed in all that time.’

Allegra
slipped quietly over to K and Auntie, and tapped K discreetly on the shoulder. She whispered into K’s ear; K looked over at Binksy and frowned.

‘What? What is it? Why you make face at my Binksy?’ Auntie asked, immediately on the defensive.

Allegra
stepped forward, taking the elderly woman gently by the arm and leading her away from K. ‘Auntie, we need your help. Binksy is not feeling very well at the moment. She didn’t say anything to you because she knows you worry too much about her,’ Allegra said. ‘But I think she needs some of your tonic. You know, that special brew you make to keep her looking so beautiful and full of energy?’

Clucking
away like a concerned mother hen. Auntie immediately went to fuss over Binksy. In spite of her pushiness, she did actually care about the girl. She’d brought her up as her own daughter, after all, when Binksy’s parents had been tragically killed in a car wreck on Tolo Highway. Binksy had been tiny at the time; she didn’t remember her mother or father at all. Auntie was all she had. Stroking her forehead, Auntie told Binksy she’d be back in an hour with the tonic brew to make her feel well again.

As
soon as Auntie had left, everyone leapt into action. Binksy stepped into the dress that had been causing so much of a problem, and looked like Athena, goddess of the sea. K was a whirlwind of ideas and orders, and in just under 55 minutes, had exactly the shot she wanted.

Binksy
had just changed into her next outfit and was having her make-up reapplied when Auntie reappeared, with a large vacuum flask of her brew. It stank to high heaven, but if Binksy was anything to go by, it really did make you beautiful. Beaming away, pleased and proud that her true talents had been called upon, Auntie then made a big show of offering everyone else at the shoot a small cup of the potion.

‘There, there, you drink! Maybe if you lucky, it make you half as beautiful as my Binksy,’ she said, urging everyone to down it in one.

‘Auntie, you must give me the recipe for this,’ Allegra said, trying not to wince at the bitterness of the drink. ‘I’m so old and wrinkled now, and the boys only like the young, pretty girls.’

‘Hah! You want boyfriend? Auntie got another special recipe just for you,’ the old lady said, grinning madly. ‘I make for you, I bring next time. Then you see. You will find handsome young man to fall in love with you.’

If
only, Allegra thought, if only it were that easy. She’d be downing buckets of the stuff herself, and making sure Liz fed it to Jack every time he came into Apex.