Read Chloe's Rescue Mission Online
Authors: Rosie Dean
‘Maybe not that far, eh? Just a short walk along the riverbank, okay?’
‘Sure.’ I turned and led him back down the path.
As we reached the river, he said, ‘Joshua’s statue is a fabulous tribute to him and I’m very glad you showed it to me…I realise I could have been more gracious about it.’
I shrugged. ‘That’s okay. I suppose I didn’t think. I mean, it’s not like I’m the only person to lose someone who mattered to me – you lost both your parents.’
‘Aye. But I’d lay bets I’m the only person who likened Joshua to a tombstone.’
‘Apparently, he once had a review that likened his performance to being as wooden as a wardrobe but less useful, ’cos at least you could hang clothes in a wardrobe. He liked that one.’
He smiled. A butterfly fluttered between us and we watched it for a moment.
‘You know,’ I began, ‘some people think butterflies are the spirits of loved ones, come to visit.’
Duncan looked from the butterfly to me and shook his head. ‘I think that’s all a load of guff, but you can believe what you like.’
We carried on along the river path. Eventually, I said, ‘I’m so relieved Ross is off the project. I may be prepared to do many things to get this theatre back on its feet but I’d like to retain some dignity.’
‘Absolutely. His approach can be excellent in some projects – just not this one.’ He paused and looked up ahead, where flecks of peach were tinting the clouds. His eyes narrowed as he said, ‘You can’t beat a good sunset. I’ve seen some of the best back home, especially over the loch.’
‘If it’s going to be nice tomorrow, you should get out on the golf course.’
‘Aye, I should.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘D’you mind if we head back?’
As we turned into the theatre car-park, I heard a familiar voice. It was Warren. He was sauntering towards us with a broad smile on his face.
What timing.
He stretched his hand out to Duncan and introduced himself.
Compared with Duncan, Warren looked like his apprentice.
‘Glad I’ve caught you, Chlo,’ he said. ‘Just wondered if you had a few minutes to spare?’
You might have phoned first, I thought.
I glanced at Duncan, expecting him to say, he was off. Instead, he said, ‘King Lloyd Holdings – I understand you’re proposing to help renovate the theatre.’
Warren hesitated for a teeny-weeny moment before he said, ‘That’s right. Can’t disclose exactly what’s involved until contracts are signed, of course.’
Duncan looked mildly surprised. ‘Oh. Right. Well, it’s good that Chloe has friends like you on her side.’
Warren beamed. ‘You do what you can for life-long friends,’ he said, putting an unnecessarily possessive arm around my back.
I may have flinched.
‘Warren,’ I said, ‘I’ve only known you since I was fifteen.’ I could hear the edge in my voice, so I gave him a playful slap. ‘What are you like!’ I didn’t want Duncan sensing my antipathy.
Unfortunately the slap didn’t fully deflect Warren, who remained welded to my side.
‘I’ll be off then.’ Duncan said, nodding at us both before heading to his car.
I waited till he opened the car door. I wanted to be sure he was as far from us as possible, before I sprang away from Warren, and called, ‘Duncan!’
He turned and watched me trotting towards him. When I was right up beside him, I said, ‘Is there any chance I could have your mobile number, please?’ I was bracing myself for an argument. The old self-belief versus self-analysis at work, yet again.
‘Sure.’ He pulled a wallet out of his pocket and handed me a business card. ‘I’m surprised you don’t have it already.’
As he sat in the car, I rolled my eyes at the ease with which he’d responded – no battle to hand his number over at all.
‘Chloe, you plonker!’ I muttered, as he drove away.
‘What’s up?’ Warren, unfortunately, was now beside me.
‘Nothing. Just forgot to tell him something.’
‘Quite impressive in the flesh, isn’t he?’
I thought for a second. ‘Yes.’ I smiled up at him. ‘He’s a really good guy, too.’
Warren turned and watched Duncan’s car heading off down the road.
‘Right then, Warren, you wanted a word? It’ll have to be quick cos I’m going in a mo.’
‘Why, where are you off to?’
‘I have a meeting,’ I lied, since it had absolutely nothing to do with him.
‘Okay, well, we’ve sent a copy of our contract over to your lawyer. If we can set up a meeting in the next week or so, we’ll be able to get the ball rolling.’
‘Wow! So soon? That’s amazing.’
I could tell he liked my reaction. Maybe I was being too hard on him. ‘Shame you’ve got another meeting, I was going to suggest we nip out for an early meal at the Thai Lily.’
Damn him! My favourite restaurant. Unfortunately, theatre or no theatre, I wasn’t prepared to cut him that much slack. Dinner,
à deux
, was just too intimate and too soon.
‘Not tonight, sorry.’ What was I saying? Not any night. ‘Maybe we can all go out, once the contract is signed – Beth hardly ever gets to go out, these days and Mum loves Thai as much as I do.’
He nodded. ‘It’s a date, then.’
No it bloody isn’t, I thought. ‘Must dash,’ I said. ‘Thanks for letting me know about the theatre. Although, you didn’t need to come by, you could have rung me.’
‘I’m in town to see my folks. It’s Mum’s birthday.’
I felt a pang of guilt. Heather had always been good to me but since my split with her son, I hadn’t felt it appropriate to stay in touch. I didn’t want to offer any crumbs of hope for our reunion. And I couldn’t trust myself not to tell her just how manipulative and controlling her son had been.
‘Oh, how lovely. Give her my best wishes.’ And before he had chance to grab me for a farewell kiss, I turned and trotted back up to the theatre, making sure I gave him a conciliatory wave before I went through the door.
Now the ball was really rolling, Gemma Cox, the PR girl, was on the phone immediately, checking details and making recommendations. She was lining up radio stations for interviews and was planning enough activities to keep me busy till I drew my pension.
Added to which, I’d scheduled a meeting at my lawyers with Warren and his team, to agree terms prior to signing contracts. There was an air of excitement as Mum, Beth and I waited in the large meeting room. Paul Rousseau, our lawyer, joined us. He placed a file of papers on the table. ‘It all looks pretty straightforward,’ he said. ‘Only a couple of things we need to clarify and one item we may need to alter.’
‘Oh, what’s that?’ I asked.
‘There’s a clause in here about exclusivity, I don’t think it’s wise to go with that.’
‘Let me guess, they don’t want us partnering with any other companies?’
Paul nodded.
‘Well, we’re not partnering with anyone else, are we?’ Mum asked.
‘Chloe has a contract with Thorsen Leisure,’ Paul answered.
‘That’s her “job” though, isn’t it?’ said Beth.
‘Well…’ Paul’s head moved from side to side. ‘Yes, and no. Chloe was engaged by Thorsen Leisure but in relation to the Joshua Steele Theatre project. There’s a reference to other duties she may be required to perform, for and on behalf of Thorsen Leisure, but the contract is quite specific about its connection to the theatre.’
‘Shit!’ I clasped my hands to my head, in frustration.
‘Not to worry,’ Paul soothed. ‘I’m sure we can amend that with a clearly defined proviso.’
‘There you are, sweetheart,’ Mum put an arm round me. ‘Nothing to worry about.’
‘You think?’ I looked out of the window to see a besuited Warren and colleague striding purposefully towards the building.
My concerns were well founded. The contract had been drawn up to ensure nobody outside of our partnership could influence the success and renovation of the theatre – apart from by a strings-free financial donation or subcontracted work. In other words, no official contract with Thorsen Leisure. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at Warren, he was so sure he’d got the upper hand.
Despite our lawyer’s best endeavours to adjust the clause in question, and to waive the principle over my contract with Thorsen Leisure, King Lloyd Holdings wasn’t about to budge.
‘It’s a matter of integrity to the project,’ said Warren’s boss. ‘Too many cooks and all that.’
‘I’ll worry about the integrity of the project,’ Mum announced, surprising me and, by the look on their faces, everyone else at the table. ‘This theatre was built by my father-in law; a wonderful man who stepped in to help bring up my children and put a roof over our heads. He and his memory mean far more to us than they could ever mean to you. How dare you presume exclusivity and…and power!’
Beth and I exchanged a look of pride and suppressed glee.
Warren tilted his head and smiled. ‘Of course, Jennifer. I think this may have been taken out of context. You three are absolutely responsible for the project. But King Lloyd can move much faster if they don’t have to consider decisions or input from a whole raft of other stake-holders. It’s in the best interests of the theatre, really.’
‘There are no other stake-holders,’ I added. ‘I’m being paid to focus on the project. Me. Not any outsiders.’
Sensing heightened feelings, Paul took a more soothing tone. ‘Perhaps we can ask Thorsen Leisure to adjust their contract? That might be the best approach.’
Warren’s colleague shifted in his seat. Warren was shaking his head.
‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ I slammed my hands on the desk. All eyes focused on me. ‘Mum, Beth, can we have a word – in private?’
Along the corridor, in the Ladies cloakroom, I stared at Beth. ‘You know what’s going on here, don’t you?’
‘You think Warren the Cling-on wants Thorsen Leisure out. Wants control?’
‘Don’t you?’
Beth shrugged. ‘Is it even down to Warren?’
‘I simply don’t like their attitude,’ said Mum.
‘Money is power’
Beth nodded. ‘But can we afford to boot them out?’
We all looked at each other.
I could feel panic fluttering in my chest. I wanted to tell King Lloyd to stuff it but our top priority was the theatre. ‘No. We have to secure the theatre’s future, and King Lloyd can do that for us.’
‘At a price,’ Beth sneered. ‘It’s not all free work and materials is it? We’ll be in debt to them for years, and if we fail, they’ll take the building off us anyway.’
Mum put her arm around me. ‘Maybe we can ask Duncan to suspend your contract till the building is complete?’
I shook my head. ‘Thorsen Leisure’s all tied up with this project, now. They’re involved with the variety show, the documentary’s underway. I know Duncan had to pull a few strings to get that one passed.’ I took a deep breath. ‘I’m right in the crap, here.’
‘There’s got to be a way to keep them both on the case,’ said Beth. ‘If King Lloyd wants to be top dog, we have to sideline Thorsen Leisure somehow.’
‘Let’s buy some time, then. Say we’re going to consider their offer and come back to them. Maybe Paul will come up with a solution. He’s the one with the legal brain.’
The King Lloyd team were non-plussed by our delay, and urged us to reconsider but we Steeles weren’t backing down. We parted with cordial handshakes and more than one disbelieving look from Warren.
The following day, I had another meeting at Thorsen Leisure. It was with Rusty and Gemma, who wanted to talk me through some of the visuals for the TV programme and the PR campaign. It must have been pretty obvious I had something on my mind, when Gemma said, ‘Oh my God, Chloe, you look like you lost a tenner and found a quid.’
In a very garbled way, I explained the situation with King Lloyd. ‘So you see, my contract with Thorsen Leisure is standing in the way of progressing with the building work.’
‘So you want to renege on your contract with us?’ Rusty asked.
‘No. I don’t want to. I just wish there was a way I could work with both.’
Silence descended. Gemma was doodling on her notepad. I was digging my fingers through my hair, hoping to massage my brain into discovering some solution.
Rusty chewed her lip for a moment. ‘Have you shown Duncan their contract?’
‘No. I only saw it myself the other day.’
Gemma tapped her pen on the pad. ‘Hmm. We might as well run through these bits of PR, since they have nothing to do with Thorsen Leisure. That should be okay, shouldn’t it?’
She handed over a list of articles, interviews and photo-shoots she had lined up, along with dates and contact details. As I struggled to take it all in, she said, ‘You’re quite fit, aren’t you?’
‘Fit-ish, why?’
She looked at me through narrowed eyes. ‘I bet you’d look really good in a catsuit.’
‘What now?’
She jumped up and collected her stuff together. ‘Just a thought. Leave it with me.’
As she reached the door, I said, ‘I’m scared of heights so no sky-diving. In fact, nothing higher than a step-ladder.’
‘No heights, I promise,’ she said, and left me speculating on what outrageous stunt she was planning now.
In the shadow of King Lloyd’s controversial contract, it was difficult for Rusty and me to make much progress.
‘Do you have a copy of the contract?’ she asked.
I pulled one out of my bag. ‘I’ve highlighted the relevant clauses.’
She scanned the text.
‘Rusty, I don’t want to give up Thorsen Leisure’s support. To be honest, I’d like to tell King Lloyd it’s a no go, but without any other offer to match theirs, it wouldn’t make sense. We need to save the theatre.’
‘Of course.’
‘I have a vague suspicion as to why they’re demanding exclusivity but you’d think being allied with Thorsen Leisure would be a good thing, wouldn’t you?’
She glanced at me and shrugged. ‘Yes.’ She stood up. ‘Wait there a minute.’
I sat staring at the wall. Then I switched back to my iPad to read my emails. I was just trawling through Facebook when Duncan walked in and closed the door behind him.
This didn’t bode well.
He perched on the table next to me.
‘So…King Lloyd have thrown a spanner in the works.’
‘You could say that.’
‘What does your old school-friend, Wayne, know about your contract with us?’
‘Warren. Well, there’s stuff on the website about the TV documentary but I’ve never actually told him about your contract. It’s possible Mum did.’
He studied me for a moment. ‘Excuse me for being blunt but are you and Warren an item?’
‘Nooo.’ I shook my head to emphasise the point.
‘Okay. I just wanted to clear that up – you seemed fairly close.’
I was still shaking my head.
‘Do you trust him?’
Did I? A kaleidoscope of his past transgressions tumbled through my brain.
‘Chloe, if you don’t trust him, why are you even considering working with him?’
‘It’s the best offer on the table. In any case, it’s not only Warren we’d be working with. It’s the company behind him. They’re huge.’
‘Hmmm.’ Duncan narrowed his eyes and flattened his lips. All of which made him look a tiny bit menacing.
‘I don’t know what to do for the best. My head says to sign their contract but that screws up all the things you’ve done for us…’
‘I think I’d have something to say about that, don’t you?’
‘Can we renegotiate our contract?’ I asked, more in hope than expectation.
Duncan looked up to the ceiling and sighed.
I was clearly a complete pain in the arse.
‘Wait, no, don’t worry about it, Duncan.’ I stood up. ‘Honestly. We’ll sort this out. Our whole family is really pissed off about this clause in the contract. Truly. We’ll turn them down. There must be other companies like theirs who’d be prepared to offer us a similar deal. I can take their proposal and rewrite it so it looks like an opportunity for some other developer. We can put it out there, see who picks it up. We might get lucky.’ I stuffed my phone and tablet into my bag. ‘I’m sorry. You don’t need to worry about it. This isn’t your problem. We’ll tell Warren and his company to shove it.’ Duncan raised his eyebrows. ‘Obviously, we’ll put it more politely than that.’
‘Hold your horses, Chloe,’ he said, putting a hand on my arm. ‘Let’s just wait and see what my lawyers can come up with, eh? You might not have to throw the baby out with the bathwater.’
‘Really?’
‘I can’t make any promises but we’ll take a look at it.’
I let out an entire lungful of air. ‘Duncan, that would be fantastic. We’d really appreciate it.’
‘I know.’ He gave my arm a final squeeze and stood up. ‘I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.’
‘Thank you so much.’ My instinct was to hug him but instead I stepped back and held my hand out. ‘That means a lot.’
He smiled and shook my hand. ‘No worries.’
For some incalculable reason,
Gossip
magazine had booked me for a fashion shoot – all fees to go to the theatre. As I yanked strip wax from my legs, I silently prayed they had plenty of budget to Photo-shop the results. I was a classic hour-glass shape, so not exactly your traditional fashion mag coat-hanger. Plus, anxiety over our project was taking its toll on my face. It would take concealer the consistency of putty to hide the dark circles under my eyes.
‘Don’t worry, darling. They can do wonders with make-up and lighting,’ Mum said as I surveyed my reflection in the hall mirror. ‘What are you modelling?’
‘Evening wear. So that’s nice and glamorous,’ I said.
Evening wear, my arse, I thought, when I finally surveyed the skimpy satin and lace confections hanging in the studio. Night attire was closer to it. Mind you, I was impressed by the labels. Nothing from Wallmart or Primark. Pure silks, actually. Not many metres of fabric but definitely couture.
The make-up artist spent half-an hour on my face – covering up the bags, I guessed – and almost as long on body paint.
Finally, I looked in the mirror.
I was speechless.
‘Happy?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ I lied.
I looked like Pricilla, Queen of the Desert.
Apart from three ‘gowns’ that had built-in bustiers, I had to go bra-less. I’ve always considered my boobs to be my best feature, but that didn’t mean I wanted them popping out all over the pages of
Gossip
.
I made my feelings very clear to the photographer, Giles. He was polite. He said he understood. But it didn’t stop him trying to manipulate every angle possible to sneak a peek at my udders.
Three hours later, the ordeal over, I headed to the nearest café for a large latte and a slice of carrot cake. I worried about how the results might look but, most of all, I thought about the money, which would make a welcome dent in the theatre’s debts.