Whirlwind (6 page)

'Now don't be cross, Joey! We've been celebrating my birthday and we're only a few minutes late!'

He eyed her, his face sardonic. 'You're a wicked old woman,' he accused, but shrugged. 'OK, I'll skip the lecture, but can we please get down to work and no more time-wasting?' His gaze moved to Anna. 'Now, Anna, shall we go over your scene again?'

By the time they left the theatre that evening, Anna felt like chewed string. For a second as she walked out into the chilly night she had a sinking suspicion - that she would see the blue and silver Rolls pulled up at the kerb, but there was no sign of Laird Montgomery and she caught her usual bus home.

Her landlady was waiting for her, one ear cocked for the sound of Anna's key in the lock. She shot out like a spider when a fly unwarily crashes into its web.

'Miss Rendle!'

Anna was ready for her, and she turned, and smiled triumphantly. 'Oh, yes, the rent, Mrs Gawton.' She opened her handbag and counted out the money into the waiting hand. The cashier had sent for her that afternoon and advanced the sum she requested. She would just have enough left to pay her fares and buy a little food until Friday.

Mrs Gawton clutched the notes with one hand while the other held out a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of red roses, long-stemmed buds with a dewy look.

Anna was dumbfounded, until the landlady commented maliciously, 'Got yourself a rich boyfriend at last, have you? You didn't come home last night, did you? Oh, I noticed, went up and banged on your door a couple of times. Thought you were hiding because you didn't have the rent, but I suppose you were out earning it.'

Anna's face stiffened and burned. Carrying the roses, she turned on her heel.

'There's a note in there!' Mrs Gawton threw after her, her voice making it clear that she had read it. Anna didn't look back or answer, she went up the stairs, and Mrs Gawton stared after her, before vanishing into her own quarters.

In her room, Anna fished out the note with shaky fingers. 'Will be away for a few days. See you first night,' it said, his initials scrawled under the words.

Anna's emotions were confused but powerful: fury with him for sending the flowers and for believing that after what he had done to her she would want to see him again, painful relief because he had gone away and she wouldn't have to worry about finding him waiting for her outside the theatre, and a peculiar ache whose causes she preferred not to track down.

She was tempted to throw his flowers away so that they should not keep reminding her of him, but they were too beautiful, and she had never been given red roses before. She hunted out a chipped glass jug and filled it with water, arranging the roses in it tenderly, her fingertips brushing their cool petals. All evening she looked up and saw those deep red, satiny petals—and each time she thought of Laird, besieged by images of him. In a few short hours she had learnt so much about him; she felt as if she had always known him. That odd sensation of familiarity disturbed her. He was as insidious as spring, creeping up inch by inch while you weren't watching.

The problem was that she had started to like him very much; all that evening in his penthouse suite she had been registering aspects of Laird and liking what she noticed—his humour, his kindness, his arguments with that old man whom he had rescued from the gutter, his liking for the same poetry as herself, his teasing eyes and deep, cool voice.

None of that seemed to fit with what happened later, with Laird's ruthless use of her when she was too drunk to know what was going to happen.

Each time she thought of it she felt a pang of shame. It was ironic that she had been so worried about Patti—she should have worried about herself. If she had been more careful there wouldn't have been any consequences.

That was when it dawned on her that there was one possible consequence she hadn't taken into account.

She went white, sitting up with a hand over her mouth as if to silence the groan she gave. What if she was pregnant?

That idea kept her awake half the night, and she overslept and had to run to catch her bus without having time to eat. She bought a roll at a baker's and ate that when Joey gave them a coffee break, but she was so obsessed with her new fear that people kept looking at her oddly, and Dame Flossie actually asked her outright.

'What's wrong, dear? Not too well? Or just tired?'

Anna dragged a smile into her face. 'We're all tired, aren't we?' She made it light, but Dame Flossie's keen old eyes were shrewd as they studied her pale face, and even Joey seemed concerned.

'I hope you're not coming down with some bug, Anna,' he said impatiently. 'That's all I need.'

Anna imagined the way he would look if she was pregnant—how could she face that? She spent twenty-four miserable hours wondering what she would do if the worst proved true, and then her period started dead on time and for the first time in her life she welcomed it with deep, unutterable relief. At least she didn't have that to worry about! Not that it would have bothered Laird Montgomery at all—hadn't it occurred to him that he might get her pregnant?

He probably thought she must be on the Pill, Anna told herself grimly. Many girls were these days, but it had never occurred to Anna because she didn't sleep with anyone, she never had. Her life had been too hectic for there to be any room for men.

During the following week, she had little time for thinking about Laird, however. Joey's urgency drove them all from the minute they walked on to the stage to the minute they emerged, drained and weary, into the night air. The dress rehearsal was a total madhouse, everyone in a state of nerves, shaking like aspens, and Joey one second shouting with rage, the next becoming icy and remote as he bit out sentences that left them cringing.

Even Dame Flossie became a little overwrought and forgot a cue, and shortly after that Joey relented and sent them all home, telling them quite gently to relax and forget the play for a few hours.

'We've found all the flaws, I think, and done something to put them right,' he said, his face wry. 'Just make sure you remember everything I've said and we'll have a triumphant first night.'

Anna woke up several times that night, sweating with terror after dreaming that she'd dried up or tripped over a chair, and once that she found herself in the wrong play, acting among a cast of total strangers who kept giving her cues she had never heard before!

'Absolutely classic, my dear!' said Dame Flossie next evening when Anna mentioned her dream. 'We've all dreamt that one. I once dreamt I was Juliet and the rest of the cast were from
Hamlet,
but that wasn't as bad as dear old George Skillicorn—he dreamt he was playing Iago and suddenly realised the play was
King Lear,
then woke up and realised it wasn't a dream. Poor Georgie drank too much towards the end, I'm afraid. Mind you, the audience didn't seem to notice, it was a very thin house that night, thank God.'

Chuckling in her dressing-room, Anna asked Patti, 'Did you believe that?'

'It was funny,' Patti said uncertainly. 'But . . . who was George Skillicorn? I've never heard of him.'

'I suspect Dame Floss made him up. Either that or he was someone she knew when she was very young.' Anna looked into her mirror, her eyes had a hectic glitter to them. 'I'm so nervous I could scream!'

Patti was white under her make-up. 'Don't! I daren't even think about it. I know I'll go blank the minute I hear my cue.'

Patti didn't, of course, and Anna's nerves vanished the minute she was out of the wings and swallowed up into the electric storm of the play. She forgot the audience and herself; she was only conscious of what was happening on stage—and then her first laugh came and she almost went to pieces with surprise. From the dark auditorium faces swam out, eyes gleamed like fireflies. She caught Dame Flossie's commanding gaze and pulled herself together, carrying on. The next laugh came patly, where Joey had taught her to expect it, and the timing she had been so sure she would never get right came smoothly, she felt the pull on the line between herself and the audience. She played them effortlessly; loving their laughter, their held silence during the poignant moments of the play.

Afterwards she felt like a balloon whose string had been cut; she floated around, laughing, exchanging compliments and memories of the last two hours, her ears still ringing with the applause which had seemed deafening as they took the curtain calls.

They all knew it had worked; the play was a success. They didn't need to wait for the reviews in the morning papers or the flood of calls at the box office. Joey was smiling from ear to ear; Dame Flossie's dressing-room was crammed with admirers who filled the room with flowers, opened champagne, spilled out into the corridor and stared at the rest of the cast as they hurried by on their way to the first night party being held at a nearby restaurant.

Anna was talking to Joey Ross when she saw Patti with Laird Montgomery. Laird had bent his dark head; he was kissing Patti.

'We're bound to move into the West End now,' Joey said, but Anna barely heard him; she was watching Patti throwing her arms around Laird's neck and her body was icy with shock.

J
OEY'S
voice halted as he realised she wasn't listening to him, he followed her gaze and exclaimed cheerfully, 'Laird! Hello! You got back in time, then—that's great. Did you enjoy it?'

Anna had never been so angry in her life. She would have walked away before Laird and Patti joined them, but under the mocking inspection of those grey eyes she held her ground, her chin lifted in defiance. She wasn't giving him the satisfaction of imagining that she was running away from him.

Behind stage was so crowded that Laird and Patti had to push their way through to Joey and Anna, and that gave time for Anna to note that Laird had his arm around Patti's slender waist and she was leaning slightly on his shoulder, the intimacy undisguised and so casual that Anna ground her teeth in bitter distaste, wishing she had never made such a fool of herself as to offer the other girl advice Patti clearly did not need and must have laughed over once she was alone.

She could hardly doubt the evidence of her own eyes, yet she was incredulous, nevertheless. How could Patti have deluded her so easily? She must be a better actress than Anna had believed; her performance as a shy, embarrassed adolescent had been superb. She had been totally convincing.

'Congratulations, Joey,' drawled Laird, shaking hands with him. 'A marvellous production.'

Oh, absolutely, Anna thought—Patti had given a brilliant performance and not in the play tonight.

'You had us all eating out of your hand,' Laird said, smiling. He was in evening dress; it infuriated Anna to see how breathtaking he looked in the elegant, expensively tailored suit. There was a red carnation in his buttonhole, and she stared at it, remembering the red roses he had sent her, her throat raw with pain and rage. Her dilated eyes slid up over his broad shoulders and that hard-boned face to find him watching her with insolent amusement.

'Especially you, Miss Rendle,' he murmured, taking a step towards her, his arm relinquishing Patti's waist. His hand came out and before Anna realised what he meant to do he had seized her own hand and was lifting it to his lips.

Her fingers shook as she felt the touch of his mouth on her skin, and he shot her a glance from under dark lashes, aware of that betraying tremor.

'You have a very rare gift,' he said. 'You can make people laugh
and
cry all at the same time. I can't remember a more exciting first performance in the theatre, can you, Joey?'

Joey smiled paternally. 'She has possibilities,' he conceded, without going over the top. 'If she works hard,' he added even more cautiously, then glanced at Anna with curiosity. 'I didn't realise you knew Laird, Anna.' His eyes narrowed as she flushed, then he laughed. 'Oh, of course, Patti must have introduced you—I'd forgotten you two had become friends.' Looking back at Laird, he asked quizzically, 'Is the cat out of the bag or do you still prefer to be anonymous?'

'Oh, I don't think we should let anyone else in on the secret,' drawled Laird, shrugging.

'Up to you,' Joey said indifferently. 'Are you coming to the party?'

'I wouldn't miss it for worlds.'

Anna's heart sank; if he was coming to the party she wasn't going to enjoy it—how could she? Quite apart from the nerve-racking tension of seeing him, remembering what he' had done to her, she would have to watch him chasing Patti.

I'm not jealous, she told herself angrily. Patti must be out of her mind after what I told her—or did I merely make her twice as intrigued? Patti was only eighteen and fascinated by men like Laird Montgomery.

I should have remembered, Anna thought, silently furious with herself. At that age I was always reading about men like him and wishing I could meet one, a modern Lord Byron—mad, bad and dangerous to know. She had grown out of that phase, but Patti was still young enough to be vulnerable to Laird Montgomery, and he seemed interested enough in her. After all, he'd been waiting for
her
the night he took Anna to the penthouse, it had been Patti he was chasing!

A wave of heat swept over Anna as it dawned on her that he couldn't really have cared who he took to bed that night. He had wanted Patti but, cheated of her, he had taken Anna instead, like someone idly picking a flower on a walk and chucking it away a moment later.

Feeling sick, she swallowed, looking down, wishing bitterly that it hadn't happened, that she had taken the bus as usual that night. Laird Montgomery and his penthouse and his Rolls Royce might spell glamour to Patti, but he was despicable; he used his money and the power it gave him to get hold of young girls like Patti. No doubt that was what attracted him to the theatre, that explained why he had backed this play.

Dame Flossie darted up, incandescent with excitement, and threw her arms around Anna. 'You were wonderful, a joy to work with, your timing was perfect tonight,' she told her kissing her cheek.

Glowing at the accolade, Anna hugged her back, the ice around her heart briefly thawing. 'Thank you, you were wonderful too, I had tears in my eyes during that last scene and I distinctly heard sniffs from the front row.'