He was signalling for her to lower her window, and since she could go neither forward nor back, she pressed a button and complied. By now she was too angry to be afraid, which was probably exactly what he was getting off on, so in as pleasant a voice as she could muster she said, ‘Drive on, buster. I’m due at the AIDS clinic by four.’
His eyes were hidden by shades, but she saw his smile broaden before he treated her to an obscene, masturbatory gesture, then finally drove on. He said something too, something that sounded familiar despite his accent, but it must have been her imagination for there was just no way he could know her name. Besides, not even she referred to herself as Mrs McCann, so it had to have been something Spanish that just sounded like that.
An hour later she was carrying her shopping into the apartment and exchanging a quick hello with Matty who was on her way out.
‘Don’t wait dinner for me,’ Matty said, ‘there’s some kind of panic going on with a couple of the costumes. I’m going over there now, and God only knows how long it’s going to take. Oh, and I’ve got wig fittings in the morning, Vic wants you and Tom to be there so we can get the look right. Pierre’s going to do the cut, and he wants to know if we need any more hairdressing assistants. He’s got four on stand by.’
‘Tell him to talk to Lucy, she’s in charge of all that,’ Ellen responded, dumping her bags in the kitchen. ‘What time’s the wig fitting? Don’t forget we’ve got a press call.’
‘It’s before. At nine. The press call’s at eleven, so plenty of time. Oh, by the way, Michael called.’
Ellen turned round. ‘When?’ she said.
Matty shrugged. ‘A couple of hours ago. No message. He just said he’d catch up with you later.’
Ellen’s insides had gone watery. ‘He didn’t want me to call back?’ she said.
‘Mm, mm,’ Matty answered, shaking her head as she popped a grape. ‘Boy, these are good. But call him anyway, if you want to. He’s your husband, after all.’
‘He’s also a co-exec. producer,’ Ellen reminded her. ‘Meaning the call will have been work-related.’
‘But you were hoping otherwise,’ Matty said. ‘I could see it in your eyes. You know, if you ask me, this has gone on long enough …’
‘Spare me the lecture,’ Ellen said, holding up her hand. ‘I’m in total agreement, which is why I’ve got all this food – I’m going to invite him – and Robbie and Clodagh – over for dinner tonight. I thought it would be a step in the right direction.’
‘I won’t argue with that,’ Matty responded. ‘Now I’ve got to fly. Have a good time, all of you, and save a couple of mouthfuls for me.’
‘You mean you’re eating?’ Ellen called after her. ‘What about dieting for those love scenes?’
Matty scowled at her menacingly, then, coming back for a handful of grapes, she kissed her on the cheek and left.
Ellen carried on with her unpacking, picking up the phone as it rang and tucking it into her shoulder. It was Sandy calling from New York, wanting to know if Ellen had the latest budget forecasts for the twenty-six-parter. As it happened there were copies in Ellen’s briefcase, so they spent the next fifteen minutes going over them, in preparation for a meeting Sandy was having the next day.
When finally she rang off Ellen was even more perplexed and irritated by Sandy than usual. There was just no way she was taken in by this new, saintly persona, although she found herself responding to it as though she were. It was hard being frosty with someone who seemed so friendly, but as chatty and agreeable as she was being Ellen remained convinced that the woman was a bitch, and maybe an increasingly dangerous one now that she was finding more effective ways to hide it.
Going back to the kitchen she finished unpacking her bags, then, allowing herself no time for nerves or procrastination, she picked up the phone to call Michael. But before she could dial it rang, and for the next half-hour she was tied up again on all kinds of problems and decisions concerning the movie. Knowing it had taken over Michael’s life too, she couldn’t help wondering how he was feeling right now, just a week away from the cameras rolling. No doubt he was as nervous and apprehensive as she was – or perhaps terrified would be a more accurate description – that something might go wrong.
She didn’t want to be thinking about all that now though, she wanted to put it to one side and let them have at least this one evening as a family before everything rolled past the start line. It would be their
first
time together for more than three months, since before the wedding, and before the bombshell that had all but torn their lives apart.
‘Hi, it’s me,’ she said when he answered the phone.
She waited, feeling her heart trip on his silence, but reminding herself it was his pride again, she put a laugh in her voice as she said, ‘I was in the mood for cooking and thought you all might like to come and join me.’
There was a moment’s pause before he said, ‘I don’t think so.’
She was stunned. It hadn’t even occurred to her that he might turn her down, so she wasn’t at all prepared for what to say next. ‘Why not?’ she finally managed.
‘I just don’t,’ he said.
She was trying hard to establish some sense here, as his manner was nothing like it had been these past few weeks in the office, when she’d started to believe that he might at last be coming round to the idea of working something out. She felt suddenly panicked, as though everything was slipping away from her, but pulling herself quickly together she said, ‘You must have a reason.’
‘You know the reason,’ he told her. ‘We can put on a front for other people, but the pretence ends there.’
‘What pretence?’ she said, feeling her head start to spin. ‘I love you, Michael, there’s no pretence about that.’
His answer was so harsh she could hardly believe he had said it. ‘I don’t know what your game is, Ellen,’ he snapped, ‘but if you think you can string us both along until you know who the father is, then think again.’
‘What do you mean? What are you talking about?’ she cried.
‘You know what I’m talking about,’ he responded, and before she could protest any further he hung up.
She gazed around the apartment, momentarily
stunned
, then snatching up her bag, she took out her address book and rapidly started to dial. Joe, the designer, wasn’t home, so she tried his mobile, while flicking through the pages to find a number for one of the line producers. No reply from Joe’s mobile, and as she clicked off the line a call came in from one of the cast which she dealt with, then started to dial again.
She knew it was guilt that was driving her, that the chances of Michael knowing about that shared moment with Tom were minimal, but it was standing out so sharply in her mind that she had to find out if someone had seen, and then told him. At last she tracked down Ron Hubbard, one of the stage managers who’d been on the set earlier.
‘No, I didn’t speak to Michael today,’ he said when Ellen asked. ‘But I saw him.’
‘Saw him?’ she said, her heart starting to beat even faster. ‘Where?’
‘He was over at the set, looking for you. I guess he didn’t find you, huh?’
‘Oh my God,’ Ellen breathed, then remembering who she was talking to she mumbled a quick goodbye and rang off. ‘Oh my God,’ she muttered again. ‘What timing! What lousy rotten timing!’
The phone rang.
‘Yes,’ she barked into it.
‘Ellen, I’ve got someone from
The Gossip Show
on the other line,’ the senior publicist told her. ‘They’re asking if you want to comment on some rumour they’ve heard about a romance between you and Tom Chambers.’
Ellen’s eyes were wide with shock, as a voice inside screamed out for this to stop. ‘Are you insane?’ she cried. ‘There’s no romance between me and Tom Chambers, and I want to know who the hell said there was.’
‘The woman’s not going to reveal her source,’ the publicist told her. ‘Do you want me to deny it, or do you want to go the “no comment” route?’
‘Deny it,’ Ellen snapped. ‘Deny it categorically, and tell her if she goes public I’ll sue.’
She slammed the phone down, was about to turn away when it rang again.
‘Yes?’
‘Hello Mrs McCann,’ a soft, gravelly voice at the other end said, ‘you don’t know me, but I want you to know I’m a friend. And as a friend, I would advise you to pull out of the movie you are making …’
‘Oh great! Just what I need, a whacko,’ she seethed, and slamming down the receiver, she picked up her purse and keys and ran out the door.
Fifteen minutes later she was pulling up behind Michael’s car where it was parked in the drive. Going over to the front door, she knocked hard.
Clodagh answered, her small, wrinkly face showing surprise, then pleasure, when she saw who it was. ‘Oh my, how lovely it is to see you,’ she said, giving Ellen a hug. ‘We went over to the set to find you today, but you’d already left. Come along in now. Will you be staying for supper?’
Ellen didn’t answer as she saw Michael getting up from the sofa where he’d been sitting with Robbie. His face showed no welcome at all, and she could feel her heart thumping as it struggled between anger and despair. She looked at Robbie who was watching her with big, uncertain eyes, and for one horrible moment she felt her nerve failing.
But she was quickly past it and looking at Michael again she said, ‘I need to talk to you.’
If it had been in him to resist he must have decided against it, probably, she guessed, because he didn’t want a showdown in front of Robbie. He turned towards their bedroom, and, glancing at Clodagh who gave her best reassuring smile, Ellen followed.
He was standing beside the bed as she closed the door behind her. She felt momentarily light-headed, as
though
in some strange, undefinable way she was closing them off from reality, sealing them into a place where neither of them quite knew how to behave. She could see the hostility in his eyes, almost feel his efforts to keep her at bay, yet it was the very power of his resistance that was drawing her to him, enveloping her in the maelstrom of pride and anguish that was causing him so much pain.
She took a breath and said, ‘I know you saw me with Tom, and I know what you must have thought, but you’re wrong, Michael. It wasn’t the way it might have looked. It was simply me trying to give him some comfort when he saw the set. It was nothing more than that, I swear. I love you, I’ve always loved you, and even the goddamned pride you’re putting between us now isn’t going to stop me loving you.’
His face didn’t change, nor did he speak, but it was his silence that encouraged her to go on.
‘Michael, please stop doing this,’ she implored. ‘I know you love me, and I know how much I hurt you, but don’t you care what this is doing to me too? I want us to be together, to work through this and …’ Words were starting to fail her, as she had no clear idea of what she wanted to say, whether she should tell him about the baby now, or what she should do. ‘I know you feel you can’t make love to me again,’ she said, ‘but you can, you know you can and I want you to. Michael, please. I can’t bear this, wanting you so much and …’ She hardly knew what she was doing, was giving herself no time to think, as she began taking off her clothes, shedding them as though they were veils around her emotions, until finally she stood naked before him.
His eyes didn’t waver from hers, their fierceness seeming to see so far into her that even her nudity wasn’t enough. She waited, willing him to move, to say something, even if it was to tell her to go. Each second that passed was more excruciating than the last. The air
on
her skin was a whisper of pain; the small swell of her child a heaviness that seemed minutely to grow. Though he wouldn’t look she knew he could see it, a blur on the edge of his vision, a stone in the heart of his pain. She could feel her image in his eyes, as though he were smothering her with fear and anger and a growing need to hurt and love her.
It was hard to breathe. The air was static with feeling; sensations seared through her body with an intensity that burned and a need that curled into every hidden place. Her eyes were wide, her breasts were heavy and laden with desire. Her hands hung at her sides, wanting to reach, to feel, to bring him to her. Then he was coming towards her, reaching for her, pulling her harshly against him. His mouth came crushing down on hers, his tongue pushing between her lips, his hands cupping her buttocks and lifting her to him.
She tore at his shirt, returning his kisses with the urgency and passion that was inflaming them both. Very soon he was naked and she pressed herself to him, feeling his strength and hardness and sinking into the power of his need. Her fingers raked his hair, pulling his mouth down harder on hers, as his hands moved to her breasts, taking their weight and squeezing them, twisting her nipples, and kissing her harder than ever as his fingers pushed between her legs.
She was gasping and murmuring, holding him tightly as her desire became so intense that emotion was lost in its vastness. Yet it was only because of their love that they could take each other like this, devouring each other’s lust with a hunger that knew no repletion.
She lay back on the bed and pulled him down with her. He came to her, swollen with urgency, hardened by the power of desire and love. Their eyes were on each other’s, smouldering with need, drinking in the reflected wells of emotion. And then he was there, entering her, pushing into her, filling her until he could go no further.
He
held himself there, looking down at her and feeling the invisible bonds that enclosed them, that locked them together despite all he did to keep them apart.
She raised her hands to his face, touching his lips with her thumbs, brushing his ears with her fingers. Then he pulled back and pushed into her again. His voice grunted from his lips as he rammed her again and again. She met his pounding with a magnificent force, rising up to take him, using her hips to mirror the frantic rhythm of his own. The muscles in his arms were straining as he continued to hold himself over her, and they watched the movement of their bodies seeking to scale the final barriers to release.
‘Oh my God,’ she cried, as suddenly he changed motion.