Illusions of Love (37 page)

Stevie was Mark’s extremely beautiful and exceptionally talented Swedish-born wife.
 
A roadie with the band, she was also a pretty-much-in-demand photographer in her own right, having done more than a couple of shoots with
India
recently.
 
She was a real-life rock chick in the true sense of the word, and
India
loved hanging out with her when she was in town.

‘She’s over in the
U.K.
, with Luke.
 
She’s got a photography assignment over there with a bunch of guys who’re reforming for a handful of gigs.
 
She’s taken Luke with her so he can spend a couple of days with his dad.’

‘Is Johnny here?’

Mark looked behind him, down onto the beach where the band’s lead guitarist Johnny Jackson – a dead-ringer for the Foo Fighters’ Dave Grohl – was chatting away to a group of Kenny and
India
’s biker friends.

‘Yeah, he’s here.
 
So’s Jack, somewhere.
 
I’m guessing
he’ll
be hanging around all the hot women.
 
You know Jack.’

The group’s bassist, Jack Warner, was a Scottish-born rocker with a love of the ladies, and every other rock star perk that came his way.
 
Divorced and in no hurry to settle down again, despite hurtling towards his mid-forties, he loved the life being in a rock band could give him, and he lived that life to the full.

‘Look,
India
… I heard about what happened over in Vegas, so, what’s going down with that?’ Mark asked, accepting a beer from Kenny.

India
shrugged, letting go of Kenny and reaching over to the table beside him to grab herself a fresh beer from the cool box.

‘Me and Dominic, we’re over.
 
Although, to be fair, we’d hardly had a chance to get anything started in the first place.’

‘I’m taking it that’s why this place is surrounded by all this security then?
 
Every reporter within sniffing distance wants the story, right?’

India
nodded.
 
‘Yep.
 
You got it.’

‘Dominic MacDonald is Michael Walsh’s kid, huh?
 
Shit!’

‘You’re telling me,’
India
sighed, ripping the top off the beer bottle and taking a drink.
 
‘Oh, Jesus, I don’t believe this.’

‘What?’ Kenny asked, turning round to look inside the house.
 
‘Christ!
 
Who the fuck let
him
in?’

‘I can deal with it,’
India
said, taking another swig of beer.
 
Not that she needed the Dutch courage, but it wouldn’t hurt.

‘Do you want me to come with you?’

‘No.
 
I said I can deal with it, Kenny.’
 
She squeezed his hand as she walked past him, back into the house, turning round to smile at him.
 
‘It’ll be fine.
 
Really.’

Pushing past the crowd of people who’d congregated in the large open-plan kitchen of her beach house, she made her way over to the unexpected and unwelcome guest, not knowing what she was going to say to him when she got there, just knowing that she had to say something.

‘You weren’t invited,’ she said, pulling herself up onto the breakfast bar, crossing her legs up underneath her as she looked at him.

Michael kept his eyes on her all the time, his hands in his pockets, his demeanour that of a man who wasn’t going anywhere until he’d had a chance to say his piece.
 
And
India
hadn’t spoken to him since it had all happened, had she?
 
So maybe she at least owed him the chance to explain his side of things.
 
Or was that just her letting those never-ending feelings for this man get in the way?
 
Again.

‘Did you really think I wouldn’t come here,
India
?
 
That I wouldn’t try and talk to you?
 
After everything that’s happened?’

She didn’t say anything, just looked at him, continuing to drink her beer.

‘Have you seen Dominic?’ Michael went on, not comfortable with the silence she was offering up.

‘Your son, you mean?’

‘Come on,
India
.
 
You can’t blame me for that, I had no idea he existed…’

‘Yeah, you did.
 
For a little while.
 
You knew, at some point, who he was yet you still chose not to tell me, not to let
him
know you knew.
 
You helped turn a crazy, complicated situation into something way off the page, Michael.’

‘And he’s completely innocent in all of this, is he?
 
He used you, honey.
 
Don’t you see that?’

‘Oh, yeah, I see it.
 
Of course I see it.
 
I know exactly what he was playing at, but
you
didn’t help matters.
 
You were just as bad as he was.
 
Jesus, talk about like father like son!’
 
She slipped down off the breakfast bar, leaning back against it, taking another swig of beer.
 
‘You’re back to being the same old Michael Walsh, don’t you see?’

‘Because I still love you,
India
.’
 
He moved closer to her, trying to be heard above the sound of the music and the noise going on around them.
 
‘I still love you, and everything I did, I did it because…’

‘You love me, yeah, yeah, I get that.
 
I get it, okay?
 
But why does everything have to be so bloody twisted with you, Michael?
 
Huh?
 
Why do you have to keep secrets and then use them to your advantage in a way that only ever ends up hurting people?
 
We had something so good, y’know…’

‘And we can have that again, baby.
 
I promise you, we can have that again.’
 
He reached out to take her hand but she pulled it away, shoving it in the pocket of her denim shorts.

‘We can’t have
anything
anymore, Michael.
 
We are over, it’s finished.
 
And it should have been finished a long time ago.
 
I should never have decided to do this movie, it was a mistake…’

‘No!
 
Nothing was a mistake,
India
.
 
Not the movie, not what’s happening now…’

‘You’re saying you don’t think what’s happening now is a mistake?
 
You’re crazy!
 
The whole situation is crazy, it’s ridiculous!
 
It’s a fucking mess, Michael.’
 
She threw her head back and sighed heavily.
 
‘Did you bring Ethan home with you?’

In all of this she had to remember she was a mother, too.
 
She had other, more important people to think about other than herself.
 

‘He’s at my place, with Emma.
 
Just as well I didn’t bring him here then, huh?
 
With his mother carrying on like a teenager.’

‘Don’t give me that shit, Michael.
 
Don’t you dare turn this around on me, do you hear me?
 
Do you see what you do?
 
Do you see the way you behave?
 
It confuses the hell out of me because one minute you’re telling me you love me and the next you’re accusing me of partying like I don’t give a fuck about my kids!
 
I don’t need that, okay?’

‘Ethan needs you.
 
And I’m sure Ellie does, too.’

‘Ellie’s fine, I was with her today.
 
Look, this is pointless.
 
We’re getting nowhere, and now isn’t really the right time for any of this, is it?’

‘We need to talk before we go back to Vegas,
India
.’

‘Do we?
 
Really?
 
You see, when all is said and done, the only things you are to me anymore are the father of my son, and my director.
 
That’s all.
 
And that’s all you’ll ever be, Michael.
 
Because I don’t have the energy to go there again, I really don’t.’

‘Everything okay?’ Kenny asked, joining
India
at the breakfast bar.

‘Everything’s fine,’
India
replied.
 
‘Michael was just leaving.
 
Weren’t you, Michael.’

It wasn’t a question.
 
More of an order, but Michael wasn’t going to hang around.
 
He didn’t want to upset her, didn’t want to make things any worse than they already were.
 
He could wait.
 
Things would calm down, things would settle, eventually.
 
He just had to make sure that Dominic didn’t get to her, that he didn’t muscle his way into somewhere he wasn’t welcome.
 
Because
India
may think he was ready to give up, but that just wasn’t the way Michael worked.
 
When Michael Walsh wanted something, he usually got it.
 
In the end.
 
So why should this situation be any different?

CHAPTER 24

Vince couldn’t take it in.
 
He couldn’t believe what had been going on around him, that Charley had kept something so important from him, and the fact she’d felt unable to talk to him about it stung in a way he couldn’t describe.

‘I’m your husband, Charley.
 
We aren’t supposed to have secrets; you’re supposed to be able to talk to me.
 
About anything.
 
I don’t understand…’

‘I couldn’t, Vince.
 
And it’s the fact you’re my husband that meant I
couldn’t
tell you about any of this.
 
Because I love you, so much.
 
I know Jimmy Cash, remember?
 
He’s a dangerous man, and everyone I love who tries to help me where Jimmy’s concerned gets hurt.
 
I lose them, Vince.
 
Look what happened to Terry.’

Charley still couldn’t forget what
India
’s brother had done all those years ago.
 
The way he’d tried everything he could to get her away from Jimmy and a life she hated, a life that was killing her.
 
He’d risked so much because he’d loved her, and in the end he’d lost his life because of it.
 
Because of her.
 
Which is why she’d made sure that Jimmy had stayed behind bars for as long as he could; it was what he deserved.
 
But he was obviously a man who bore grudges, and now – almost fourteen years later – she was getting payback she didn’t deserve.

‘I’m not Terry,’ Vince said quietly, staring down at the headline above a semi-naked picture of Charley, the same picture that was splashed across the front pages of at least three newspapers:
“
Beverly Hills
Businesswoman’s shameful porn past”.

‘It’s too dangerous, Vince.’

He stood up, throwing the newspapers aside.
 
‘So, what did you think you were gonna do, huh?
 
Handle Jimmy Cash all on your own?
 
Is that what you thought you could do?
 
Did you think you could just talk to him and he’d go away and forget everything?’

‘Of course not…’

‘What, then?
 
Come on, Charley.
 
What did you think you could do?’

‘I don’t know, okay?’ she shouted, every ounce of frustration and fear she’d been feeling over these past few weeks suddenly bubbling to the surface, exploding out of her like some uncontrollable volcano.
 
‘I don’t fucking know!
 
I was confused and frightened and… Jesus, I don’t know!
 
He turned up at the salon in
L.A.
, he issued veiled threats… I was scared, Vince.
 
But more than anything I was scared for you and for Lily, scared that he’d try and hurt you…’

‘And keeping it from me was going to help that threat go away, was it?
 
What the hell were you playing at, Charley?’

She sat down on the sofa, her head in her hands, too tired to argue anymore.
 
She should have told him, simple as that.
 
And then maybe this mess wouldn’t be quite as bad as it was certainly turning out to be.

Vince sighed, sitting down beside her.
 
‘Look, I’m sorry, okay?
 
I’m sorry for shouting, I’m sorry, but… it’s the shock, Charley.
 
That you can keep something so fucking important from me – your husband.
 
Someone who loves you.
 
Someone who will do anything they can to keep you safe.’