Second Chances (8 page)

Chapter Eleven

AS HE CLOSED his eyes and listened to Lighthouse Family singing Free/One, Jackson Flye wondered if Allegra would call in to his show again tonight. She sounded nice on air, sometimes a little hesitant, but she was funny and invariably had good advice to offer his other callers. She could somehow personalise every problem she heard and felt moved by, and he was sure that somewhere behind that voice, there was a sad story of her own which she never shared.

He
opened his eyes to see his producer waving frantically at him. Shit, was the song already almost over? No, she was pointing at the phone and blowing kisses at him. He stuck his tongue out and pulled a face, but was secretly pleased. Belinda only ever did that when it was Allegra on the line, waiting to be patched through to Jackson Flye.

As
the final notes of the song faded, Jackson cued his mic. ‘That was Lighthouse Family, and Free… beautiful song, beautiful words, and now, a beautiful lady on the line… You’re through to Jackson Flye, how’re you doing tonight, sweetness?’

‘ “Beautiful lady”?’ Allegra’s voice was teasing. ‘Oh, Jackson honey, I didn’t know you could see through your microphone… Secretly, I weigh 100 kilos and look like the back-end of a bus.’

‘Ah, that’s just superficial beauty you’re talking about,’ he responded, smiling. ‘I’m talking about on the inside, Miss Allegra.’

‘You sweet-talking devil, I bet all the girls love you,’ she said. Lying back on her sofa in her tiny apartment, Allegra smiled, the sound of Jackson Flye’s voice directly in her ear was just… delicious. ‘And all the boys, too…’

‘Why, I don’t know about all that, Miss Allegra, I’m just here as a voice in the night to keep you company. Now, did you call up just to flirt with me, or have you any thoughts that may help our last caller? Shari’s having boyfriend problems; according to her, he keeps breaking up with her and then begging to get back together again. In between, he’s seen other women… So, Miss Allegra, tell us your words of wisdom.’

Allegra
smiled, even as she felt Shari’s pain. The girl’s so-called boyfriend was clearly a jerk, he was treating her like a doormat, and as long as she allowed him to, he’d keep on doing it to her.

‘He’s
breaking her heart over and over again,’ she said, softly. ‘He has no right to treat her like that. But the only person who can break the cycle is Shari herself. I hope she’ll be strong enough to tell him enough is enough. I know it’s hard, when you think you love someone, or you think he is the only one who will ever love you… But I really believe Shari’s problem is that maybe she thinks she’s not good enough for him, or for anyone else. And that’s rubbish.’

‘Very nicely put, Miss Allegra. Shari, if you’re still listening, you have to be strong. If this guy is messing you around, he’s not worthy of you. You deserve better. And when you’re close to tears, remember, one day this will all be over…’

Allegra
laughed. ‘And that was the clumsiest segue into the next song ever. Coming up now, listeners, Jackson Flye presents Lighthouse Family and High…’

Sure
enough, the song began playing, and she could hear the smile in Jackson Flye’s voice as he said, ‘Thank you, Miss Allegra, you have been wonderful, as always…’

Allegra
hung up, feeling strangely happy. She jumped when the phone rang in her hand.

‘Hello?’

“You sad, sad git!’ Liz shrieked. ‘How long have you been calling in to Jackson Flye’s show? You two sounded like old friends, it’s pathetic! Are you sitting in a puddle of moist now? “Miss Allegra” indeed!’

‘So what, you’ve apparently been listening to his show too,’ Allegra retorted. ‘I seem to remember someone saying it was all sap and pap, meant for sad bints who sat at home stuffing their faces with ice-cream while doing Cosmo quizzes about their lucky colour.’

‘Rubbish. I’m drunk and therefore not responsible for my own actions,’ Liz said. ‘Anyway, it wasn’t me, it was Tam. Stupid puppy sat on one of the remote controls and switched the radio on. I’d never have tuned in of my own accord; I’m way too cool for that.’

‘Is there a point to your call other than to abuse me?’ Allegra asked, grinning. ‘If not, go away and leave me alone with my puddle of moist.’

Liz
snorted derisively, called Allegra a sad git once more just for good measure and hung up. Allegra had just put the phone back into the cradle when it rang again. Sighing, she picked it up. Liz was unstoppable sometimes.

‘Now
who’s the sad git?’ Allegra said with mock accusation. ‘You obviously miss me desperately, you nutjob, to be calling me nonstop all night. You’re stalking me, that’s what you’re doing. I’m going to call the police now, bye-bye…’

‘Allegra?’
It was a man’s voice. Allegra froze.

‘Yes?’
she asked, hesitantly.

‘Ummn,
it’s me… Jackson.’

‘Jackson…
Jackson Flye?’ How did he get her number, she thought, then realised that of course, it must have come up in caller display at the radio station. But even so, he had had dozens of callers that night; how could he know which number had been hers, unless he’d called every single one until he got hold of her? She was stumped.

‘I’m
sorry, was there a problem with something I said on air just now? I know I didn’t swear, I promise, I’m always hyper-careful about choosing my words. Are you in trouble because of me? Am I in trouble? Oh hell…’

‘No,
calm down, there’s no problem,’ said Jackson. ‘I just wanted… I just wanted to call and thank you for being, you know, so great on air. But is there a problem with you? You said something about a stalker and calling the police when you picked up. Are you in some sort of trouble?’

Allegra
laughed. That would teach her to try to be clever and funny. ‘No,’ she reassured him. ‘I thought it was my friend Liz again. She’d just rung to call me names for calling in to your show, actually.’

‘Well, I really like you calling in… It’s always nice to hear your voice,’ he said, adding hurriedly, ‘because I know you’ll always have good advice for everyone.’

There
was a pause, as Allegra wasn’t quite sure what she should say in response to that. Then Jackson spoke again.

‘Ummn, I guess I should go, the song’s almost over and I have to get back to the show. Thanks again for calling, and I hope I wasn’t intruding by calling your home number. Your husband wasn’t put out, was he?’ He’d taken a shot in the dark, keeping his fingers crossed.

‘No, he wasn’t,’ she said, guardedly, giving nothing away. Well, it wasn’t entirely a lie. It was more a misrepresentation of the facts. She had no idea if her ex was even listening to the show, but she wasn’t about to have a D&M with Jackson Flye about her sorry situation.

‘Well, that’s good,’ he said. Was that a tinge of disappointment in his voice? Allegra paused, and then, as if in a dream, heard herself say softly into the phone, ‘There is no husband. No boyfriend, either.’

‘Sorry, didn’t mean to pry… Hell, listen, Belinda is practically smashing chairs against the partition right now, I have to get back to the show. Thanks again, Miss Allegra, it’s always a pleasure.’

He
hung up abruptly, and Allegra grinned as she heard him all breathless as he began speaking to his next caller. Jackson Flye, calling personally to thank her. Well, maybe she wasn’t such a waste of space after all, despite everything her ex-husband’s lawyers had been determined to prove.

Chapter Twelve

WHEN JACKSON FLYE bid his last caller farewell and signed off at 1am, Belinda entered the studio as he was tidying up his papers, stuffing them into his bag along with his iPod and a book he was reading. She saw it was Paul Coelho’s The Alchemist and curled her lip. Existentialist, philosophical crap. He’d lent it to her, insisting she had to read it, saying it was “mellow”. Belinda found she was just irritated by it, because it promised answers and offered none.

Not
realising she was in the room, Jackson was humming softly, a smile playing on his lips. Belinda grinned. ‘She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5,’ she said, recognising the song. ‘Miss Allegra’s favourite band. Do you know how many privacy laws I broke for you tonight? Apart from that, you know it’s against station policy to give out the telephone numbers of our callers to anyone — and that includes you, Mr Flye. Not that you’ve ever asked me for anyone’s number before…’

Jackson
Flye just looked up at her and grinned widely. Belinda’s eyes widened as realisation dawned on her. ‘You know who she is!’ she said, excitedly. ‘You’ve actually met her, haven’t you? But she doesn’t know who you are! Oh my God, Jackson! … You like this woman…’

He
got to his feet, still smiling, kissed her on the cheek and walked out, waving his hand over his head in farewell, still not saying a word. Belinda stamped her foot in frustration. Jackson really was a closed book most of the time, despite being incredibly friendly and affectionate. He rarely spoke about his private life; Belinda only knew he had a girlfriend because she’d taken messages from her a few times. What was it with boys, anyway, that they never talked about their feelings? Or about anything except football, beer and gadgets?

When Belinda got home about 20 minutes later, her flat-mate was still awake, reading. ‘Oh God, 1984 again?’ she said, as she shut the front door behind her. ‘What is it with you and George Orwell?’

‘It was his final masterpiece,’ Rose said, not looking up. ‘It’s enthralling and indispensable for understanding modern history. See, it says so, right here on the cover. Besides, I can relate. Apex is Airstrip One and Liz is Big Brother, determined to crush my spirit into complete compliance… So how did the show go tonight? Any more loony callers?’

‘You mean you didn’t tune in? Why do I even bother?’ Belinda said, collapsing onto the sofa. ‘Go make me a cup of tea, there’s a doll… It was quite an interesting evening, to be honest. The usual sort of angst-ridden drivel from the callers, but…’

She
paused, not quite sure how to put it. ‘I think Jackson’s got a crush on one of them.’

Rose,
who had ignored the request for tea, finally put her book down, staring at Belinda in surprise. ‘Seriously? But he’s got a girlfriend, hasn’t he?’

‘Yeah, I know… but he asked me to give him the number of this woman, Allegra or something, some weird name, and then he called her right in the middle of the show while a song was playing,’ Belinda said, thoughtfully. ‘And I could see him, he was blushing and smiling… like you do when you get all shy because you like someone.’

Rose
sat up with a start. ‘Did you say Allegra?’

Belinda
nodded.

‘Oh,
my, GOD! Belinda, I think I know who she is! Allegra’s such an unusual name and…’ Rose shook her head in disbelief.

‘Well, tell me!’ Belinda said, crossly. ‘He knows her, now you say you know her, how come everyone but me seems to know who this woman is?’

She
had no personal interest in Jackson Flye beyond that as a friend; he wasn’t her type anyway. She liked her men significantly less disheveled and preferably with a Porsche or two tucked away in the garage. She was fairly sure Jackson didn’t even own a bicycle, not that it would have made any difference to her if he did.

‘Well… one of the freelancers who works regularly with us at Apex is called Allegra. She’s Liz’s best friend, too.’

Belinda
frowned. It was late, she was tired, her brain wasn’t working properly anymore. ‘I don’t get it. So Liz has got a friend called Allegra, which is also the name of this caller that Jackson likes… so what? I’m convinced he’s actually met her, otherwise why would he be so hung up on her? How could he have met the Allegra you’re talking about?’

Rose
was bouncing excitedly on her chair. ‘Don’t you see — he’s been doing a few projects with Apex, so he met her there! In fact, come to think of it, I was there the first time they met — it was right before the Buckland conference and Liz insisted we all had to have a drink with him because he’d just come on board at the last minute… And Allegra probably hasn’t figured out that Jack and Jackson are one and the same… Oh my God! This is so exciting! I feel like the Thought Police are going to come get me now for having secret knowledge of the truth!’

‘So what’s she like, then? Sounds a bit thick to me to not have twigged that Jack is Jackson and vice-versa. I mean, I would think it was pretty bloody obvious, from the voice alone.’

Belinda
asked, yawning, unhooking her bra and yanking it out from under her top. She desperately wanted to go to sleep, but her curiosity was piqued by the discovery that between them, she and Rose might be able to piece together a little information about Jackson’s secret crush. She started to fold her bra up neatly, then changed her mind and flung it across the room.

‘Oh come on, Jack does his “hot radio DJ” voice when he’s on air, and he doesn’t speak exactly like that in real life, does he? So you can’t really blame Allegra. Anyway, I don’t really know her as such, but she’s sweet and always polite… nothing like Liz, who’s got personal abuse down to a fine art,’ Rose said. ‘I think she’s divorced with a couple of kids… and she’s beautiful in a fragile sort of way, kind of like Michelle Pfeiffer in White Oleander. Except she’s not blonde.’

Rose
sighed. She was just 21 herself, and the idea of romantic love fuelled her dreams. If she and Belinda were correct in their guesswork, this could turn out to be one hell of a love story. But hopefully not as tragic as An Affair To Remember. Or 1984, come to that.

Belinda
looked at her friend and grinned, knowing Rose was already visualising white weddings and happy-ever-afters. ‘It never works out in real life, you know that,’ she said, getting to her feet and retrieving her discarded bra from where it had landed on top of the TV. ‘Real life is a bastard. People never get what they want or deserve. And, oh God, Abi’s going to be really pissed if she finds out.’