Valentine (18 page)

'Are you out with NTM?' she said accusingly.

'Don't you think that name is a little childish?' Jack
said quietly. 'I'm just having lunch with her and two other
members of the cast.' He sounded slightly put out that
Valentine was questioning him.

Valentine knew that Jack hated any kind of jealousy
or possessive behaviour in his girlfriends. Julia had made
him wary, but Valentine couldn't stop herself from coming
out with her next sarcastic comment. 'Oh well, have a
lovely time bonding, won't you?'

Jack sighed. 'Valentine, don't be like this; there's no
need. Look, I'll call you tonight.'

Valentine had to bite her tongue to stop herself making
any more snide remarks about NTM, but the thought of
Jack and Tamara getting close was almost unbearable.
And so when Finn called later she was a little more receptive
than she had previously been. When he picked up
on how low she felt, he immediately suggested meeting
that afternoon.

'V, it's just for a coffee. You sound really down, come on.'

'All right, but just coffee: no alcohol, no funny
comments, no outrageous flirting; I've got a boyfriend,
remember?'

'V, I can't help my feelings for you,' Finn said
reproachfully.

'That kind of comment is exactly what I mean,'
Valentine replied.

A bottle and a half of wine later – coffee really hadn't
seemed like a suitable drink after all – Valentine was
feeling slightly more mellow. Finn had been incredibly
sweet and attentive, wanting to know every single detail
of the meeting. When Valentine mentioned how Piers
hadn't even kissed her, Finn suddenly remembered reading
that Olivia was fanatical about cleanliness and had a terror
of germs, bordering on OCD. Apparently she hated her
husband kissing anyone except her.

'So V, there was nothing personal in him not kissing
you,' Finn told her, filling up her glass again.

'You think?'

'Definitely – you've just got to give the relationship
time to develop.' He paused and looked pensive. 'Did he
mention anything about film roles?'

Valentine shook her head, annoyed with Finn for
bringing up the subject again. 'That's really not why I
got in touch with him.'

'I know,' Finn said smoothly, 'but it could be really
good for your career, V. Look at someone like Tamara;
you're way more talented than her.'

'D'you really think so?' The comment was exactly what
she wanted to hear after Jack's support for NTM.

'Absolutely – there is no comparison between you. Do
you seriously think Tamara would have got on without
her connections? Come on V; don't you think you deserve
a break?' He reached out and took her hand. 'I think
you're on the cusp of a life-changing moment.'

If Valentine hadn't been feeling quite so drunk and
annoyed with Jack, she might have moved her hand away,
and told him not to be so ridiculous. As it was, she liked
his concern for her. And when he said he was going her
way and would walk with her, she thought that perfectly
reasonable. She also thought it perfectly reasonable that
he put his arm round her as they strolled along Notting
Hill Gate, down the first part of Portabello Road with its
row of pastel-coloured Victorian terraces – after all, she
often walked arm in arm with her friends. She even
thought it reasonable that when it was time to say goodbye
on the corner of Portabello Road and Westbourne Park
Road outside Coffee Republic, he kissed her. Friends kiss
goodbye, right? Though maybe not like this – as the light
kiss on her lips turned into a proper serious let's-get-down-to-business
kiss. But it didn't mean anything, she tried to
tell herself as she finally managed to extricate herself from
his embrace and walk home. It was just a kiss. Admittedly
tongues had been involved, but that was because she'd
had such an emotionally charged day, and she was slightly
drunk. It would never happen again.

Just then her attention was caught by an elderly well-dressed
couple walking slowly arm and arm on the
opposite side of the road. It was unmistakably Frank and
Lily. Shit! Surely they hadn't seen her with Finn? She was
just about to pretend that she hadn't seen them when
Frank noticed her and raised his arm in greeting. No
escape. She crossed the road, feeling horribly guilty.

'Hiya,' she said, falsely cheerful. She noticed that Lily
looked paler than ever and even though it was a warm
day was wrapped up in a white mohair cardigan with a
red velvet shawl round her shoulders. The old timers
just looked at her. Was that sadness she could see in
their eyes? Disappointment? Disapproval? They must
have seen her.

'It was just a kiss, Lily,' she said defensively.

'A kiss is never just a kiss,' Lily replied sternly.

'Oh please, don't be like this!' Valentine exclaimed.
She tried for their sympathy. 'I'd just met up with Piers,
which was a bit stressful, so I had a few drinks with Finn.
But the kiss meant nothing.'

'It's not like you to behave like that.' Now Frank was
putting his oar in. Any minute they'd be pinning a scarlet
A to her breast to mark her out as an adulteress.

'And it's not us you should be justifying yourself to;
what about Jack?' Lily again.

'OK, OK, it was a mistake.' Valentine hung her head.

'We won't say anything.' Lily again. 'But don't throw
away what you have with Jack for
him
.'

'He can't hold a candle to Jack,' put in Frank. 'Not a
fucking candle. He's a gutless bastard who nearly destroyed
you.' Bloody Lauren and her bloody mantra.

* * *

Valentine spent much of the train journey to Manchester
the following morning obsessing about whether to fess up
to Jack about the kiss, rehearsing how best to break it to
him:
Jack, I've got something to tell you, but I swear it didn't
mean anything; I kissed Finn.
Somehow saying it made it
sound as if it
had
meant something. Also it was Jack's
birthday on Sunday and revealing that you've snogged
your ex didn't exactly make for the best birthday surprise.
By the time she arrived at Manchester Piccadilly station
she was resolved. She would say nothing. Whatever Lily
had said about a kiss never being just a kiss simply wasn't
true. It had just been a kiss.

Her heart flipped when she saw Jack waiting beyond
the barrier. He looked more gorgeous than ever – really
he should carry a health warning. As soon as he saw
her he ran over, wrapped her in his arms and kissed
her. 'Very
Brief Encounter
,' she murmured once she'd
come up for air.

'Nope,' Jack said. 'No sex in that film if you recall,
Fleming. Just lots of yearning, longing and sacrifice.
Three emotions that I do not expect to be feeling over
the next forty-eight hours. To which end I have booked
us into a hotel. My digs are not built for passion. I
think my carpet has fleas, the landlady is an alcoholic
insomniac and there's a pink crocheted lady over the
loo roll.'

'A nice one?' Valentine asked hopefully. 'The hotel,
I mean.' She didn't often get to stay in good hotels. Finn
had once taken her on a mini-break to some posh country
hotel when Eva was away filming, but his credit card had
been declined and she'd had to pay with hers. In fact,
she was probably still paying for it.

It was indeed a very nice one, Valentine reflected once
she and Jack had got all the yearning and longing out of
their systems, which took most of the afternoon. Taupe
walls (she knew that only very expensive hotels ever used
taupe); five-hundred-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets;
a carpet so luxuriously thick you practically sank up to
your knees when you walked on it; lovely Molton Brown
products in the bathroom. It must have cost Jack a fortune.

'So what else have you been up to, apart from meeting
Piers?' Jack asked as she lay with her head on his chest,
he with his arm round her.

'Not much,' Valentine mumbled and as soon as the
words were out of her mouth an image of kissing Finn
popped up in her head. She was convinced that Jack
would be able to tell that she was lying; instead he asked
if she was hungry. Reprieve for the guilty.

Over a Thai meal Jack filled her in on how rehearsals
had been going. Apparently the director was so precious
that he made VPL look laid back. The two actresses playing
Lear's evil daughters Goneril and Regan hated each other.
Regan thought Goneril was too old to be playing the part
and kept making barbed comments behind her back. The
actress playing Goneril thought Regan was fat and made
equally snide comments. The actor playing Lear had a
formidable reputation as a stage actor who, despite many
offers of film work in his youth, had never done a movie,
believing the stage to be infinitely superior. And now
he believed that he was superior to any film actors.
Subsequently he loathed Tamara, who represented everything
he despised about film actors.

'I really do feel sorry for her,' Jack said again. Valentine
nearly choked on her green curry. 'I mean, she is spoilt
and no great actress – we're all agreed on that – but Clive,
who's playing Lear, is so vile to her.'

'I wouldn't worry about her,' Valentine said, when
she could finally speak. 'She's got thicker skin than a
rhinoceros. It serves her right if he's giving her a hard
time. She thinks she can waltz into a serious role like that
and everyone will love her, when the truth is it exposes
that she actually has no talent whatsoever!' She was getting
impassioned now. 'I can't wait for that moment she's
carried on stage dead!'

'Nor can Clive, as he frequently tells her. Seriously,
Valentine, she's been in tears more than once after one
of his tongue-lashings. He told her she delivered her lines
with all the emotion of the speaking clock.'

'As much as that? I always used to think she sounded
like a Dalek.' Valentine replied, not at all liking Jack's
show of sympathy for NTM. 'So how's your other girlfriend,
Julia Mentalist Turner?'

Jack curled his lip. 'Don't say
girlfriend
and Julia Turner
in the same sentence – that woman took ten years off my
life. She's getting rave reviews in
Street Car
, which has
thankfully got her off my case. She was born to play
Blanche Dubois.'

'That's because she
is
Blanche Dubois!'

'OK enough! I don't want to talk about Julia or Tamara
or anyone but you. And have you nearly finished your
green vegetable curry? Because I've got another bad case
of yearning. Our Egyptian cotton temple awaits us.'

They spent most of Saturday in the Egyptian cotton
temple. Their desire for each other had only grown more
intense in the three-week absence. Valentine was feeling
blissfully happy. The illicit kiss, the unsatisfactory meeting
with Piers, the no-work scenario – all were forgotten as
she basked in being with Jack. On the morning of his
birthday she surprised him with smoked salmon, bagels,
strawberries and champagne, which she'd smuggled into
the hotel the night before, and hidden in the mini-bar.

'Sorry it's not room service,' she said.

'I like it all the more because you got it,' he told her.
If he was lying it was a sweet lie.

'So, happy birthday old man!' she joked, handing him
a small package. Jack ripped off the paper and opened
the black velvet box.

'That is so cool!' he exclaimed, lifting out the thick
silver chain bracelet she'd bought him from Frank's stall.

'Well, I thought you were metrosexual enough to carry
it off,' she said, fastening it on his wrist.

'You're so cheeky, Fleming. Do you know what your
present is?'

'A dirty old man with a big package, I hope,' she
replied, giggling as Jack pinned her down on the bed.

You're only three years younger than me! I am going
to take such delight in your thirtieth birthday,' he
exclaimed.

'Oh shut up,' she murmured. 'I've never shagged a
thirty-year-old before; aren't you going to get on with it?
Or do you need me to get you a fluffer to get you going?'

Apparently not, as after round one, Jack was up for an
encore. Maybe it was just a myth that men reached their
peak at the age of eighteen. Valentine was just wondering
if they could go for a hat trick when Jack's phone rang.
Go away world, Valentine thought as Jack sat up and took
the call.

'Shit! I'd completely forgotten! Sorry, we'll be with you
in a half an hour.' He snapped his phone shut and looked
over at Valentine, 'We're supposed to be meeting some
of the cast right now for drinks.'

'Who's going to be there?' Valentine asked cautiously.

'Regan, Gloucester, the Fool and Tamara.'

Valentine did a major eye-roll.

'Don't give me that look. We won't stay long, I promise.
When they offered to take me out I couldn't really say no.'

Couldn't you?
Valentine felt like saying, slightly put out
that she was wasting her last day with Jack in the company
of strangers and they wouldn't be seeing each other for
at least another two weeks.

'Happy Birthday, Jack!' Tamara squealed as soon as they
walked into the bar. Valentine tried not to grit her teeth too
much at the sight of Tamara's slender arms wrapped round
Jack. She could get through this. She would be calm, sophisticated,
aloof. Barely acknowledging Valentine, Tamara led
Jack to a table where other members of the cast were sitting.
Valentine trailed behind. Tamara installed Jack next to her
at one end, leaving Valentine sitting at the opposite end,
next to the fool (Timothy) – was Tamara trying to tell her
something? – and Gloucester (Seb), who fortunately were
both charming. Especially Seb, who paid her outrageous
compliments about how lovely she looked. And so she bloody
should! The moment she'd found out about the drinks she'd
spent an hour getting ready. Tamara, of course, looked
ravishing in a white sun dress that showed off her beautiful
golden-brown skin, her blonde hair with a just-got-out-of-bed-but-actually-it-cost-a-fortune-to-achieve-this
look.