Breaking the Rules (17 page)

M
was not only frustrated but worried. And on the verge of becoming really angry. For the past few days she had been unable to reach Larry. Quite simply, he wasn’t responding to her messages or returning her calls, and she couldn’t imagine why. She just didn’t understand what was going on with him.

She sat on her bed in her room at Geo’s, staring into space, her mind racing, her mobile in her hand. And then she checked her watch for the umpteenth time. It was just eight thirty on Saturday morning. Five minutes ago she had tried to get him on his mobile, but it was turned off. A moment later she had dialled the Four Seasons Hotel in Toronto and asked to be put through to Mr Laurence Vaughan’s room. The phone had just rung and rung, and she had finally ended the call in exasperation.

She bit her lip, wondering what to do, and then realized there was nothing she could do. Anyway, he was coming back to New York later today, after two weeks in Toronto with his father.

Edward, unfortunately, had arrived a week ago, sooner than
expected, and the mere idea of this troubled her. No wonder we kept playing telephone tag on Monday, she now thought. Edward is probably giving Larry a hard time, taking it out on him, because he was forced to fly to Canada by their mother so that Larry could leave. Seemingly, Edward usually had better fish to fry when it came to being a good son.

So why had he arrived sooner than expected? Don’t even go there, she told herself. She stood up, pushed her phone into the pocket of her jeans and went downstairs to the kitchen.

Her mind remained focused on Larry as she made coffee. The first week he had been in Toronto they had spoken twice a day, but since last weekend they had been out of touch. Perhaps Larry wasn’t responding because there were problems with his father after all. She considered this for a moment and dismissed it, chided herself for being stupid. Larry had told her that his father was in good shape and perfectly normal, so his sudden silence was much more likely to have something to do with the arrival of his brother.

The thought of Larry exposed to Edward filled her with dismay. But he
was
due back this afternoon, and she would soon know everything, and things would normalize. In the meantime, she would just have to be patient. And she wasn’t going to phone him again either, because she didn’t want to be perceived as a nuisance. She knew she would hear from him the minute he arrived at the Beekman Place apartment, there was no doubt in her mind about that.

Taking her mug of coffee over to the table near the window, M sat drinking it, acknowledging to herself that she was a little disappointed she hadn’t been able to share all of her good news with her fiancé.
Fiancé.
Yes, that’s exactly what he was, and soon he would be her husband. Her thoughts turned to their marriage; she was well aware she would have to tell him who she really was before they went to City Hall to ‘tie the knot’, as he called it. If she married him under an assumed name it
would not be legal. She wondered what he would say when she told him her name wasn’t Marie Marsden…

‘Hi, hi, hi!’ Geo exclaimed from the doorway in a cheerful voice, and came bouncing into the room full of energy and vitality, a bright smile on her face.

‘Good morning—you’re in good spirits,’ M answered, smiling back. ‘I just made coffee a few minutes ago, so it’s nice and fresh.’

Geo nodded. ‘I’ll come and join you…Incidentally, James stayed over last night, so don’t be surprised if he comes wandering in shortly.’

‘It’ll be nice to see him,’ M replied, meaning this.

As she poured herself a mug of coffee, Geo announced, ‘I have some great news.’

‘You’re engaged to James,’ M asserted, hoping this was true.

‘No, not yet.’ Geo sat down opposite M, leaned over the table and added, ‘But if he asks I’m going to say yes.’

‘I’m delighted to hear it, and I’d kill you if you didn’t. And so what
is
your news?’

‘I got a call last night from Annette Lazenby. She’s alive and kicking. And in Rome! What a relief it was to finally hear from her.’

‘I bet it was, and did she fill you in? Tell you why there has been such a long silence?’ M asked, suddenly riddled with curiosity about a woman she barely knew.

‘She did. She said she’d had a bad case of bronchitis, and was really sick. I think it was only because of James’s intervention that she got out safely.’

‘I didn’t know he’d intervened,’ M said, looking surprised, the expression in her eyes puzzled.

‘Sort of…he called someone he knows, who’s now based in Pakistan, and asked him to do a bit of checking.’ Geo shrugged, rolled her eyes. ‘That’s all I know. James didn’t tell me anything else.’

‘Well, he wouldn’t, would he? And I bet he’s a good man to have in a crisis. I think men like James usually operate on the premise that the less one knows about something problematical, the better off one is. Don’t you agree?’

‘I do, yes.’ Clearing her throat, changing the subject, Geo said, ‘So, from the few little tidbits you’ve thrown my way, I think you really did get your first break, didn’t you, M? It’s a big break, isn’t it?’

M grinned. ‘I’m happy to tell you that it is, and I’m
thrilled.
Thanks to Luke and his photographs I’m going to be under contract to Jean-Louis Tremont. I’ll be doing the January and February shows for him in Paris.’

‘Congratulations!’ Geo exclaimed; she instantly jumped up, went around the table and hugged M. ‘I’m very happy for you, I really am. You deserve this chance.’

‘Geo…there’s something I have to tell you…I’ll be giving up my room in December. I’m going to be living in Paris…’ Her voice trailed off a little sadly, and she stared across the table at Geo, then sighed. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘But it’s all right, honestly it is,’ Geo assured her. ‘I’ll miss you, of course. But I have a feeling I’m going to be with James permanently, whether we marry or not, and I believe he’ll want to live here with me. Alone. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think I’m going to be a landlady any more, not after you leave.’

‘But what about Annette?’ M asked, a brow lifting.

‘She indicated she may be going to live in Rome, although she didn’t explain why. I’m just glad she’s safe.’

Changing the subject again, Geo now said, ‘Tell me, how has Larry taken the news?’

‘He’s happy for me. As pleased as punch, and he’s going to come with me to Paris in December,’ M confided, without elaborating too much, never one to discuss private matters.

Geo grinned at her. ‘Hey, I have a great idea! Why don’t you
get married before you fly away to a new life in Paris? Isn’t that a fabulous thought?’

‘It is, yes—I’ll think about it.’

Geo had gone upstairs to look in on James, wondering aloud, as she left the kitchen, if he was still sleeping. And M sat alone at the kitchen table, finishing her mug of coffee, lost in her thoughts.

Oddly, she was thinking about Annette Lazenby, whom she didn’t really know at all, and discovered she was filled with relief that the journalist was going to move out and live in Rome. Annette had proved to be a worry to Geo in the long run, especially after Annette’s distraught mother had kept phoning relentlessly and always in tearful desperation, begging Geo to help.

‘None of us are our sisters’ keepers,’ M had pointed out to Geo recently, and Geo had quickly agreed she was right. Nonetheless, Geo had been compassionate enough to want to help and had dragged James into the equation.

M
knew
him, and knew him without benefit of time; her deepest instincts told her that he was a decent man with a conscience. Apparently he was able to intervene. As a former agent with MI6, operating out of England, he obviously had a wealth of knowledge and contacts, and so he had done what he could. And more than likely discreetly, and he had made this effort because of Georgiana. She admired him for that; she was also happy that these two had found each other, and that they were soul mates.

As for Annette Lazenby, M decided she had behaved recklessly by going to Afghanistan when the country was in turmoil. But then that was what she did as an investigative journalist. She went to get the facts. M sighed under her breath, stood up, went out of the kitchen, down the corridor, and crossed Geo’s studio, making for the little garden at the back.

Who am
I
to criticize her? she asked herself, sitting down in the metal chair on the patio. I have also been reckless; I threw myself into Laurence Vaughan’s arms, and he doesn’t even know my real name; I’ve lied to him by omission without thinking anything through. I gave myself to him in every way. I’m in love with a man who has many troubling issues with his family, which must impact on our relationship—yet he becomes embroiled with them at the drop of a hat.

M was well aware that Larry lived in New York because he loved it, but she also realized he wanted to keep his daunting family at arm’s length. To her, Edward Vaughan spelled danger, and she hoped and prayed there had been no quarrels in Toronto.

The problem was that Larry believed he was not as good as those of his siblings who were actors. Miranda, who was a set designer, was the only sibling who did not come into the equation. M had found herself arguing with him just before he had gone off to Canada, pointing out, and somewhat forcefully, that he was, in fact, better than them; even better than his father, who she thought had become a bit pretentious—even pompous—in his acting. He was considered one of the great actor knights—
Sir
Nicholas Vaughan, knighted by the Queen, and standing alongside the likes of Sir Anthony Hopkins, Sir Michael Caine and Sir Sean Connery, to mention only a few of that illustrious circle, all of the same generation.

Larry’s the best, she thought. No, he’s not the best: he’s better than the best. Only his mother ranks alongside him when it comes to talent. Why didn’t he see it? Why was he so vulnerable to them? So open to hurt?

And he remained bloody loyal. Oh, God, who was she to talk? There was no one more loyal than she herself. She was totally loyal to her lot, no matter what…Come hell or high water, she would stand up for them, fight for them, protect them, die for them, if needs be. And this despite anything they might have done to her in the past, any pain they might have caused,
which was always unintentional. She was one of five, just as Larry was one of six. She closed her eyes, shutting out the memories, but they would not go away, lingered.

A slight wind suddenly blew up, ruffling through her hair, wafting across her face, and she opened her eyes, sat up, blinking in the brightness of the morning. It was a pretty day with a pale blue sky and golden sunshine; although it was already the end of October, it was more like September, not cold at all, a brilliant day…an Indian summer kind of day. Immediately she thought of her mother, who basked in delight whenever it was a day like…a summer’s day in autumn: that was the way her mother always put it.

At that moment M saw her mother clearly in her head, and her father as well. And alongside were her two sisters and her brothers. Each of them sharply and precisely defined. She suddenly laughed out loud, thinking of how shocked they would be when she told them about Larry. Her siblings had teased her mercilessly when she had been ten because of her crush on him, after she had seen his memorable
Hamlet.
They would be really surprised, she decided, and laughed again.

In a sense she was sad she couldn’t confide in her sisters, and her mother. Once she and Larry were married she would tell them before they found out. That was the only fair thing to do. It was bound to leak, wasn’t it? Yes, she was positive it would. Still, once they were married it wouldn’t matter that her family knew. Certainly they couldn’t give her a big wedding, which was a relief.

M was certain they would like Larry, and take him to their hearts. He was very engaging, and it was that which would impress them—not his fame, nor his looks. Neither would matter to them. After all, they were all famous and good looking themselves.

She zeroed in on Larry, her mind racing. Where are you? Why aren’t you calling me? Are you avoiding me? What’s going on?
She had no answers for herself, and her frustration and disappointment spiralled into exasperation.

And many months later, when she looked back, she realized that this was the day her troubles began.

A
fter she had showered, done her makeup and dressed, M made a sudden decision. She would endeavour to reach Larry one more time, hoping to ascertain when he would be arriving in New York. Waiting to hear from him was becoming rather trying, and she was well aware that doing something positive would help to soothe her increasing nervousness.

Sitting down in the armchair near her bed, she reached for the land line and dialled the Four Seasons Hotel in Toronto. When the hotel operator answered she asked for reception, and a moment later a friendly male voice was asking her how he could be of help.

‘This is Marie Marsden,’ she announced in her most businesslike tone. ‘I’m Mr Laurence Vaughan’s secretary and I’ve been trying to reach him, but there’s no answer from his room. He was due to check out today, and I wish to know if he’s already done so.’

‘I believe he has, Miss Marsden. Just give me a moment to confirm that, will you?’

‘Thank you,’ M replied, hoping that Larry had indeed left the hotel, and Canada, and was on a plane coming back to New York at this very moment, as he had planned.

‘Miss Marsden, he
has
checked out,’ the clerk at reception told her, coming back onto the line. ‘Do you wish to speak to Mr Edward Vaughan? Or Sir Nicholas, perhaps?’

‘No, no, but thank you. Would you have any idea what time Mr Vaughan checked out this morning?’

‘It was yesterday, actually, Miss Marsden. Mr Vaughan checked out yesterday afternoon, according to our register.’

‘
Oh.
Thanks. Thank you very much.’ She hung up without another word, and sat back in the chair with a jolt, a stunned expression settling on her face. He was already in New York, no doubt at his apartment, and he hadn’t called her. Why? What was wrong? Didn’t he want to see her? Was it over for him? Had the two weeks apart from her made him change his mind about her? Was he dumping her?

All kinds of similar disquieting questions ran through her mind as she sat in the chair, baffled, staring into space, feelings of astonishment, hurt and disappointment flooding through her. Surely he didn’t want to break it off? How could he, after all he’d said and done, the love he had shown her? And what about the sapphire ring from Harry Winston? A man didn’t give a woman an important ring like that and not mean what he said about loving her, wanting to marry her. At least a man like Larry didn’t; he was too serious-minded, and also he was somewhat like her brothers…true blue. Right from the beginning of their relationship she had felt he was the type of man whose word was his bond…of the same ilk as the men in her family. Dependable. Honourable. She sat pondering, wondering what to do, and quickly made up her mind. Going to her wardrobe, she grabbed her black trench coat, picked up her battered red Kelly and ran downstairs.

Before leaving the house she went to the kitchen, pushed open the door and looked in. ‘Geo, I’ve got to go out for a while,’ she said, striving to sound normal.

‘All right,’ Geo answered, smiling warmly. ‘I’m sure we’ll be here when you get back.’

James, who was sitting at the kitchen table with Geo, grinned and waved. ‘Good morning, M!’

She waved back and pushed a big smile onto her face, murmuring, ‘See you both later,’ and was gone in an instant, in too much of a hurry to linger.

Out on the street, she found a yellow cab and got in, was immediately on her way uptown to Larry’s Beekman Place apartment. Settling back against the seat, she tried to relax but discovered she couldn’t shake her worry. The nearer they got to his place, the worse it grew. She had a strange presentiment that there was something wrong,
terribly wrong,
and her chest was tight with anxiety.

Both the doorman and the concierge greeted her pleasantly as she flew into the lobby of the building and took the lift up to Larry’s apartment. He had given her a key some weeks ago and she used it to let herself in.

The first thing M noticed was the suitcase on the floor of the entrance hall, and his trench coat thrown over a chair. Taking off her own coat, laying it on top of his, she looked in the living room and glanced around, called his name. There was no answer. When she checked his bedroom and the kitchen and found no sign of him, she went back to the formal living room and walked through it, making for the library. Before she even reached the door she heard muffled coughing; she pushed it open a second later and found Larry stretched out on the sofa. She saw that he looked ghastly. He was unshaven and his face was ashen; he wore his pyjamas and a dressing gown, and was clutching something against his chest.

‘Larry! Larry! Whatever’s the matter? Oh, my God, you’re ill!’ she cried, her voice rising shrilly. ‘What’s wrong? What is it? Talk to me, Larry.’ She dropped her handbag on the coffee table and knelt down next to him, took hold of his hand, discovered it was icy cold. Prising open his fingers, she found an empty plastic pill bottle without its top. On the label was Larry’s name, as well as
the name of a Toronto pharmacy and a doctor. At the bottom it said ‘Vicodin’, and there was a small red label on which was printed a warning that this was a controlled substance and should only be taken as directed. ‘Vicodin’, she read again, frowning. Wasn’t that a form of codeine? She was sure it was, and that was a powerful drug, and dangerous if misused, wasn’t it?

Putting the bottle in her pocket, she felt Larry’s pulse, and then pushed her hand inside his pyjama top, placed it on his heart. She thought both his pulse and his heartbeat seemed normal, relatively steady. But he was totally out of it, extremely woozy. He was drugged, she was certain of that.

Leaning over him, she said, ‘It’s
me,
Larry.’

He didn’t answer her, but after a moment his eyes half opened. Glazed, they weren’t focused on her, and in an instant the lids had drooped again.

‘Larry,’ she cried, ‘try to answer me. Why have you taken the pills?’

He didn’t open his eyes, but somehow he must have heard her, because eventually he mumbled something she couldn’t quite understand.

‘Why did you take the pills?’ she repeated. ‘Do you have pain?’

Slowly, limply, making an effort, he brought his hand up to his mouth and again mumbled; still she didn’t understand what he was saying, then it suddenly struck her that he might have said
tooth.
‘Did you go to a dentist in Toronto? Did you have a painful tooth?’ she demanded. ‘Is it still painful?’

He was silent, but his hand remained against his mouth for a second or two before it fell weakly to his chest.

Rising, M ran across to the desk, filled with a sense of urgency, and sat down, her first intention being to call her eldest brother in London. She had frequently gone to him when she had problems to solve, and he had always helped her. She trusted him implicitly: he was smart and worldly wise, and he would tell her
what to do. She began to dial his number, and then stopped abruptly, put the receiver back in the cradle.

She knew that when she explained the situation she was in, her predicament, he would tell her to disappear, to get out of the apartment at once. He would want her to protect herself at all costs.

But she loved Larry and obviously wanted to help him, so she couldn’t do that, couldn’t leave him alone. What if he died? He needed medical help. Now. At once. But who could she get to assist her? She didn’t have many friends in New York; only Geo really.

Then another name instantly leapt into her mind.
James Cardigan.
He was a mature man, a former secret agent, head of his own international business, certainly experienced, worldly and sophisticated. But if she asked him for help, would he keep her confidence?

He will if you’re a client of his, that you can be sure of, a voice in her head told her. Hire him, pay him, and he will be bound ethically, and therefore he will be obliged to keep your business absolutely confidential.

She hesitated, nonetheless, but when she glanced over at Larry and saw that he was now shivering excessively, as if chilled to the bone, she knew she must act with great swiftness.

Taking a deep breath, she called Geo. It was James who answered with a cheerful, ‘Hello?’

‘James, it’s me, M, and—’

‘Let me get Geo.’

‘No, no, I need to talk to you.’

‘You do?’ he answered, sounding surprised, and laughing he added, ‘I thought it was my lady you were looking for, when I heard your—’

‘No, definitely
you,
’ she cut in peremptorily, and went on immediately. ‘I want to hire you, James. I need you to help me with something important, but I must work with you as a client and not as a friend.’

‘But we
are
friends,’ he countered, sounding taken aback by her suggestion. ‘I can’t accept money from you for helping you out in some way, that’s silly.’

‘No, it isn’t, and yes, you can, and you will. Otherwise I’ll have to go somewhere else, to someone else. And I don’t want to do that.
I want you.
Please, James, agree to this.
Now.
At once! It’s really very pressing, an emergency.’ She spoke swiftly, urgently.

‘All right, whatever you say. You certainly sound agitated, upset. What’s this about? Talk to me, M, go on, tell me everything.’

‘It’s about Larry. I came up to the Beekman Place apartment when I left Geo’s this morning, and he seems ill. He just got back from Canada last night, and I found him in a bit of…a mess. I’m pretty certain he’s had dental work done there, and he was obviously prescribed strong pills—’

Cutting in, James asked in an urgent tone, ‘Do you know what they are?’

‘Yes. It says Vicodin on the label. I think he might have taken a lot of these painkillers without realizing how strong they are.’

‘And dangerous,’ James pointed out, becoming extremely worried, remembering his conversation about Larry’s history with Geo only a few weeks ago.

‘He’s out of it, James. I’m disturbed, and I don’t know what to do. I can’t get him to a hospital, because he’s too famous. It will be wrongly perceived, I’m certain of that. It’ll make headlines. But I need a doctor at once.’

‘I agree. Tell me what exact condition he’s in right now.’

‘He’s woozy, sleepy, but he did open his eyes, managed to indicate his mouth and mumbled “tooth”. I checked his pulse and heartbeat, and they both seem relatively steady, but I’m not experienced when it comes to such things. He’s very white. He needs help.
Now.
’

‘Cover him up, keep him warm, and I’ll be there as fast as I can. But I can’t just disappear, or walk out of the house,
not without explaining to Geo where I’m going, what I’ve got to do. We’ve made plans to spend the weekend together.’

‘You can tell her. But just explain we’ve got to keep this matter a secret.’

‘You can trust her. I promise you, and she cares about you.’

‘All right. Just come as quickly as you can. With a doctor…I’m a bit afraid.’

‘Don’t panic, stay cool.’

‘I’m your client, remember? Promise, James.’

‘You are my client,’ James answered and hung up.

Once she was off the telephone, M ran to Larry’s bedroom, took the pillows and duvet off the bed and brought them back to the library. She placed the pillow under his head, propped it up and wrapped the duvet around him. Then she ran and lit the fire, turned the heating system to medium, and sat down in a chair next to the sofa to wait. And not once did her eyes leave Larry’s face.

During the next half-hour M kept checking on Larry, feeling his pulse; she boiled water, made a pot of tea, but did not drink it, threw more logs onto the fire, and continued to wait. She was growing increasingly nervous, and her anxiety was high when the phone rang.

‘Miss Carlson is on her way up,’ the concierge in the lobby told her.

‘How’s Larry?’ Geo asked, when M opened the door of the apartment a moment later and drew her inside. She sounded concerned and her face was anxious.

‘About the same. Where’s James?’ M asked, frowning.

‘I dropped him off at Duane Reade on First Avenue. He needed to get something from the pharmacy. He’ll be here in a few seconds.’ The phone began to ring in the background as she spoke, and Geo glanced at M. ‘That’s probably him now,’ she said.

M hurried to answer it, then returned at once, telling her, ‘You’re right, it
is
James.’ Crossing the entrance hall, she opened the front door just as James stepped out of the lift accompanied by a tall, somewhat heavy-set young man.

James said, ‘Here we are, M. This is Dr Matthew Branden, my own doctor and a good friend. Matt, I’d like you to meet my friend Marie Marsden. We call her M.’

The doctor came forward, shook M’s hand, and said, ‘I must see the patient at once. Can you take me to him?’

‘Yes, yes, of course,’ M answered, relieved that James had brought his doctor. A professional was needed now, not amateurs playing guessing games. ‘I’ll take you to Larry,’ M went on, leading the doctor, James and Geo through the long living room and into the library.

The doctor went to Larry straight away, took his stethoscope out of his briefcase, and listened to Larry’s heart, then took his pulse, looked into his eyes with a small light.

Geo hung back in the doorway with M, whilst James went to the desk, put down the small plastic bag he was carrying, and asked the doctor, ‘Is he unconscious?’

Straightening up, Matt Branden shook his head. ‘No, he’s not, thank God. But he
is
drugged.’ Looking at M, he continued, ‘I understand that your friend took Vicodin. Can I see the bottle, please?’

It was in M’s pocket and she walked across the library, gave him the bottle, explained, ‘It was in his hand, and the top was off.’

The doctor nodded and quickly read the label. ‘James said you believed he’d had dental work, which is why these pills were prescribed. Why did you assume that?’

‘Because Larry brought his hand up to his mouth when I was questioning him about taking the pills, and he mumbled something that sounded like “tooth”.’

‘I see. It’s hard to know how many pills he’s taken in the last
twenty-four hours, but it’s imperative that I induce vomiting. I must make him bring up what he has taken.’