Famous (39 page)

I suddenly realised that if my parents were staying with Elsie, this meant my identity would inevitably be revealed. I had told my parents my name was now Jane and under no circumstances whatsoever should they call me Samantha, but I just knew one of them would let it slip. Plus, I felt like it was time I told Elsie who I really was. I was sick of keeping her in the dark. I knew I could trust her.

‘So how long do you think you’re going to stay here for, luvie?’ asked Elsie, as she poured herself another brandy and me another wine. ‘In Floodgate?’

‘I’m not sure,’ I replied, taking a sip. ‘I’m kinda waiting. Waiting until it’s safe to go back.’

‘Safe?’

Well, here goes…

‘Elsie, there’s something I really should tell you,’ I said, putting my wine glass down on the table. ‘The thing is…my name’s not really Jane.’ I paused. ‘It’s Samantha…Samantha Steel.’

‘Love…’ said Elsie.

‘And,’ I continued. ‘I had a one-night rendezvous with Alistair Ambrose, the footballer. And I was so harassed by the media, with photographers camped out on my doorstep every single day and night, chasing me to work, and everywhere I turned, I had to leave the city and escape here. They wouldn’t leave me alone. Not for one second.’

‘Love…’

‘It was hell,’ I continued. ‘I had to leave my job because the vultures were flocked outside the building. They even printed pictures of me at the gym and…’

‘Luvie,’ said Elsie, gripping me with both arms and staring me straight in the eyes. ‘I know.’

‘You know?’

She knew?

‘But how long have you known?’ I asked.

‘I had a fair idea on your first day in the café,’ she replied.

‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ I asked.

‘Why should I say anything? It’s none of my business love. You’ve come here to escape something and the last thing you need is an old duck like me pestering you with questions.’

I didn’t know what to say.

‘Thank you,’ I replied. ‘Do many other people know?’

‘Oh, I think a few others have probably figured it out for themselves. We’re not completely out of touch here, you know.’

I must have looked shocked.

‘But don’t worry, love,’ she comforted, patting me gently on the arm. ‘If they know I can guarantee you they won’t say anything. People will respect your privacy round here, as long as you respect theirs. They like their peace and quiet and they’re not going to do anything to ruin it. It’s not all needlework and gossip, you know,’ she added, reading my mind.

‘Do you know what the worst thing is?’ I asked.

‘What, love?’

‘That I didn’t even know who he was, or that he was married. I thought he was just a nice single man sitting in a bar.’

‘If God were not willing to forgive sin then heaven would be empty,’ said Elsie. ‘In other words, don’t beat yourself up about it, love. Plus, smooth seas don’t make skillful sailors.’

I think she was implying this whole hideous experience would somehow make me a stronger person. At least I think that’s what she was saying.

‘And if you ever want to talk about it, you just let me know. A trouble shared is a trouble halved, remember.’

‘I will. Thanks Elsie,’ I said, smiling at her. ‘For everything.’

‘Does Bob know?’ I asked.

‘I doubt it love. He’s not the most observant man God created.’

‘And Ethan?’ I asked.

‘I’m not sure. Perhaps you should ask him?’

I went back to the cabin happy and relieved. Relieved I was no longer keeping a secret from Elsie, and happy that she understood.

The following day I invited Ethan round to the cabin for dinner. Now that I had decided I could cook (at least without turning everything into a flaky piece of charcoal) it was time to repay the favour. After consulting one of Dad’s email recipes and a visit to Della at the grocery-slash-dry-cleaning-slash-liquor store, I decided to make a fish curry. (With bought curry paste - I hadn’t come that far.) It was surprising how well stocked the grocery-slash-dry-cleaning-slash-liquor store was. With Della’s help I had no problem finding all of the ingredients I needed, even the poppadoms.

Who would have thought? Me, Samantha Steel, cooking dinner for another human. Without burning either it, or any part of the kitchen for that matter.

Ethan brought along a lovely bottle of white wine to have with dinner.

‘Delicious, Jane,’ he said, helping himself to more curry.

And it was too. I was as proud as anyone had ever been of a fish curry. The only problem was I was bit too nervous to eat much myself. I knew it was time for me to tell Ethan who I really was. To fess up. He had become a good friend, and not one I wanted to keep secrets from. Plus, I trusted him just as much as I trusted Elsie.

‘Ethan’ I started. There was no going back now. ‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you.’

‘What’s that?’ he asked.

‘Well…the thing is…’

God, why was this so hard for me to say? It’s not like I fancied him, for God’s sake.

‘The thing is…’

‘The thing is?’ he prompted.

‘That…I’m not who you think I am.’

‘How so? God, are you really a bloke?’ he smiled. ‘Not that you look like one of course,’ he added. ‘Although of course it would be absolutely fine if you were.’

‘No,’ I laughed, thinking of Jasmine. He had no idea just how close to the bone this remark was.

‘My name isn’t Jane. It’s Samantha…Samantha Steel.’

Ethan looked at me, apparently waiting for more information.

‘And?’ he asked.

‘You don’t recognise my name?’ I asked, amazed.

‘No. Should I?’

‘Well no…that’s good. It’s just a surprise, that’s all.’

‘Are you a bank robber then?’ he grinned.

‘No,’ I laughed.

‘That’s a shame. I’ve always wanted to meet a bank robber.’

‘It’s just that my name’s quite well known for…something I did.’

He looked at me, waiting for more.

‘You know Alistair Ambrose?’ I asked.

‘The footballer?’

‘Correct. Well he and I had a bit of a…thing.’

Ethan was still sitting there looking at me, calmly waiting for more information.

‘Look, what I’m trying to say is that we had a one-night stand. I had no idea who he was, or that he was married. And as a result I was literally set upon the very next day by paparazzi. Tons of them. Chased, harassed and photographed for weeks on end. And that’s why I’m here, in Floodgate. I’m in hiding.’

‘That’s why you left the city?’ said Ethan.

‘Yes.’

‘And?’ he asked.

‘And what?’

‘And that’s it?’

‘Yes.’

Yes. That was it. All of it.

I filled Ethan in on just how horrific the hounding had been. How I’d been set upon every time I walked out my front door. How I’d had to stop going into the office and work from home. How I’d been photographed at the gym. And how I’d made my elaborate escape. He didn’t pass judgement, or criticise, or even seem remotely shocked. He just sat and listened to my story and nodded his head, and let me say what I had to say. And when I finished he said, ‘I’m glad you told me. Thank you.’ And that was that.

I slept like a baby that night. I felt relieved. Overwhelmingly relieved, as if some sort of weight had been lifted from my body. As if the guilt I had been carrying since the Night of Shame was gone. As if everything was finally going to be okay.

The next morning I took a break from work and headed into the café, as per usual. Elsie was standing in her well-worn spot behind the counter, restacking the sandwiches and scones, wearing a bright-blue-and-yellow-checked dress, with a headband to match. But for some reason she wasn’t her usual bright self.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked.

‘I’m fine love,’ she replied, although she didn’t look fine. ‘Just in a wee bit of pain with the hips. Nothing that won’t pass though.’

‘Can I help?’ I asked. ‘How about I look after the café and you go home and rest for a while?’

‘No it’s fine luvie, honestly. I’ve just taken some pills, they’ll kick in soon.’

I didn’t like seeing Elsie in pain.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Positive.’

‘At least let me make my own tea then,’ I said, moving round to the other side of the counter and making us both a pot, before sitting down at my usual table.

I had long ago started to bring my old magazines into the shop for Elsie. I would rather read them for the twentieth time than be subjected to the likes of
Heart & Home
. Just as I finished my second cup of tea I looked up from my magazine to see a shiny black Porsche pull up outside.

Looks like someone’s really got themselves lost, I thought to myself.

A tall man wearing a navy cap, jeans and a T-shirt hopped out of the car. As he walked past the café window he glanced inside and caught my eye, just for a briefest of moments.

Oh no! I thought to myself, averting my eyes back down to my magazine as quickly as I could.

But it was too late. He had already seen me.

‘Sam?’ he said, walking through the doorway and up to my table.

I toyed with the idea of telling him that no, it wasn’t, my name was Jane and I’m terribly sorry but he must have mistaken me for someone else. Somehow I didn’t think he’d fall for it.

‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, as he sat down at the table.

‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere,’ he said. ‘I arrived last night.’

‘How did you know I was here?’

‘Believe me it wasn’t easy to find out. One of your friends finally gave in.’

It had to have been either Mands or Lizzie. Either way, one of them was as good as dead. (It turned out Lizzie had accidentally let my whereabouts slip to Darcy and he was the culprit, but anyway.)

‘Nice hair,’ he added. ‘It suits you.’

I chose to ignore him.

‘What do you want Alistair?’ I asked.

‘I want to talk to you.’

‘Why?’

‘I just do.’

‘Well, I don’t want to talk to you.’

I glanced over at the counter and saw Elsie hovering behind it, stacking sandwiches. She wasn’t looking at us but she was within earshot all the same.

‘Please Sam,’ he said. ‘Just let me speak to you. That’s all I’m asking.’

Clearly, if he’d driven four-and-a-half hours and spent the night here, he wasn’t going to leave me alone just like that. Plus, although he looked as though he hadn’t slept in days, he was still incredibly foxy.

‘Okay,’ I agreed. ‘But not here. I’ll meet you outside.’

Alistair left and I said goodbye to Elsie.

She gave me a small smile and said ‘The honey is sweet love, but the bee has a sting.’

‘I know,’ I replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

She was telling me to be careful and I appreciated her concern.

‘Where shall we go?’ asked Alistair.

‘To the river,’ I replied, hopping into his car.

We drove in silence, me in anger and shock and him in nervousness. Our only communication was my curt directions of ‘left here’ and ‘right there’.

Alistair parked the car at the edge of the grass clearing.

‘Sit on the grass?’ he suggested.

‘Okay,’ I replied, getting out of the car and walking along the grass, with Alistair beside me at a safe distance.

‘What do you want to say to me?’ I asked, turning towards him.

I had no intention of dragging this conversation out any longer than necessary.

‘Well…’ he started. ‘I know you’re still angry with me but…’

‘Alistair,’ I interrupted. ‘I will always be angry with you.
Always.
Lest there be any confusion.’

He looked hurt at this comment.

‘But,’ he continued, ‘I came here to see you and to tell you that…that I can’t stop thinking about you…and that I miss you.’

‘Alistair, we slept together once. What’s there to miss?’

‘I don’t know and I can’t explain it. All I know is I really like you Sam. A lot. And I want you to know that.’

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘And now I know it. You came a long way just to tell me that,’ I added.

‘That’s not all,’ he replied nervously. ‘I want to get to know you, if you’ll let me. I want to be with you, Sam.’

‘Me and how many others?’ I asked.

He winced at this remark.