Taking Chances (34 page)

She’d been standing at the edge of the sea watching the waves lap over her feet for some time before she sensed Michael’s presence. She turned round and looked up at the house. He was standing close to the V-shaped palms, too far away for her to see his expression, but the way her heart was suddenly thumping seemed to be telling her that maybe there was some room now for hope. The fire had probably gone from his temper, and it could be that he needed her now to show him the way through this, to give him something to hold on to that would help to make it all right. She didn’t yet know what that could be, but as she started back up the hill she knew in her heart that the mere desire to work it out was all it would take to enable them to make the first step.

By the time she reached the garden he had gone inside. She walked over to the patio, then stopped as he appeared in the doorway. As she looked at his face a cold dread began to smother her hope and as he spoke she could feel each word crushing her.

‘We can’t stay here,’ he said, ‘so I’m flying back to LA tonight. You can come with me if you want, but when we get back I want you to move out of the house.’

‘But Michael …’ she protested.

‘I don’t want to discuss it,’ he barked. ‘No amount of talking’s going to change things, so let’s not waste our
time
trying. As far as the movie’s concerned I want you off it. Vic Warren’s on board now, he’s the director, so he’s the one to work on the script with Chambers. You’ve got other projects going, they’ll need your attention, unless, of course, you choose to resign. It’s all the same to me, but as of now, our marriage, our relationship, is over.’

Despite the terrible hurt he was inflicting her eyes suddenly flashed with anger. ‘I thought you were made of stronger stuff than this,’ she spat. ‘You’re just going to give up because you can’t have all the answers you want right now. Is that it? Well, what if this child does turn out to be Tom’s? It’s mine as well, or doesn’t that count? I mean, it was me, wasn’t it, who you were swearing you loved all this time, who you could never get enough of, who you never wanted to live without? I haven’t changed. I haven’t suddenly become the monster you, or Sandy Paull, are trying to make me out to be. I’m the woman you loved enough to marry, the woman who still loves you despite the fact you screwed Michelle which was what started this whole nightmare rolling. And I love your son too, because he’s yours, because he’s a part of you and I love you too much to let the fact that he’s another woman’s son get in the way. So where’s your love for me, Michael? What happened to the for better, for worse? Can’t you see how much this is tearing me apart? Don’t you care that it’s hurting me too? That I need you now more than I’ve ever needed you? Are you really going to turn your back on me and leave me alone to face the gossip and the humiliation when this could very easily be your child I’m carrying? Is that how much you love me?’

She could see the pain in his eyes and knew that, even if only in a small way, she was starting to reach him. It meant he still loved her, which she hadn’t really doubted, but loving wasn’t always enough to overcome the resisting. And he was still resisting, she could sense
it
as surely as if his hands were against her, pushing her away.

‘Speak to me, Michael,’ she urged. ‘Please. Tell me I’m not wrong about how much you love me. Tell me you’re there for me, that you’re not going to shut me out, and make us both suffer in ways we probably can’t even imagine.’ She paused and forced back the emotion that was weakening her voice. ‘I need you, Michael,’ she said.

Though his face was still strained, she wondered if she hadn’t seen his eyes soften before he turned to look out at the glorious tropical expanse that surrounded them. She was certain now that she was getting through to him, that she was showing him how much their love meant to them both, and how damaging his pride could be if he let it. She thought of Robbie and how that very same pride had stopped him seeing his own son for the first four years of his life, and her heart turned over, for it was a harsh reminder of just how stubborn he could be. She wondered if she should mention it, use it to show him what pain he caused himself by refusing to let it go, but as she started to speak he turned back and as his eyes met hers the words died in her throat.

‘I don’t think I can make love to you again,’ he said.

Ellen looked at him, swallowing hard on the pain as it rose up from her heart and fighting the terrible urge to beg him not to mean what he’d said. ‘Then at least let’s carry on living together,’ she responded. ‘We don’t have to sleep together, not until you feel right about it, but if we’re still under the same roof we’ll at least have a chance of working things out.’

His eyes remained on hers, but though he didn’t agree, he didn’t disagree either.

‘Michael, please, just think about it,’ she said, ‘and ask yourself, do you really want to deal with all the gossip and innuendo it would cause if I moved out? Can’t you see what a nightmare that would be, for us both? And
how’s
it going to look, us breaking up just as I get pregnant? Do you really want to live through that kind of publicity? God knows, it’s bad enough having to deal with this now, when it’s just between us, think how much worse it would be with the whole world knowing. We should at least try to make things look normal, and if you make me leave the house and then stop me working with Tom, it’s not going to take very long for some bright spark to put two and two together … Michael, stop! Where are you going?’

He turned round, and she instantly drew back from the contempt that was blazing in his eyes. ‘You know, you almost had me for a minute,’ he snarled. ‘I was this close to falling for your bullshit, and believing this was really about us. But it’s not, is it? It’s all about you, and the fact that, even now, you don’t want to give him up any more than you want to lose control. Well, go to him, Ellen. Go tell him about his baby, and while you’re at it you can tell him that as of right now you’re off the movie. And if Tom Chambers doesn’t like it, then that’s just too bad, because I don’t give a fuck whether this movie gets made or not.’

‘Michael! Michael!’ she cried, going after him as he walked towards the bedroom. ‘You know you don’t mean that. You’ve put everything of yourself into this movie. It’s why I’m behind it too. Michael! Stop! Listen to me, please,’ she begged, as he dragged his suitcase from under the bed. ‘What about us? Please tell me you’re not giving up. I know you love me, Michael …’

‘Wrong tense,’ he snapped. ‘It’s over, Ellen. You, me, the movie, it’s all history, and as far as I’m concerned you and Chambers can take your script, and your kid and your goddamned ghosts and get the fucking hell out of my life.’

Chapter 15

THE TAXI WAS
going much too fast, randomly switching from one lane to the other, as they sped over the Chiswick flyover heading out of West London towards the M4. Considering it was July the weather was disgusting, rain drizzling down from a pewter sky, while riotous winds gusted through barbecue parties and picnic plans. It had been like this for three days now, and was forecast to continue for another three.

Tom’s stay in London had passed too swiftly, and it was frustrating Sandy no end that they were now on their way back to the airport where he was taking the three thirty flight to LA. They’d had a fabulous time, and her only regret was that she’d been unable to see him every day, but the demands of her job had forbidden it. Besides he’d gone to stay with friends in Scotland for a couple of days, then to Brussels to meet up with a group of reporters who were working on a story about the new international link-up between the Colombian drug cartels and the Russian and Italian Mafias. But he’d called her while he was away, and had taken her to dinner the night he got back, despite not flying in until gone ten o’clock.

And now, here it was, over already, and she so desperately didn’t want him to go that she had even said so last night, which had made him grin and tweak her nose, a kind of intimacy he’d fallen into these past
couple
of weeks. They’d been at an after-show party at the Shaftesbury at the time, along with several other agents from McCanns whose clients were in the play. It was such a thrill for Sandy to have a partner for the occasion, and that it should be someone as striking and eligible as Tom Chambers was almost too good to be true. Of course everyone thought they were having an affair, which she was more than happy for them to think, though she’d have been a whole lot happier if they really were.

‘So when did you say you were planning on coming out to LA again?’ he asked, turning his gaze away from the damp and misty landscape they were racing through.

‘I think at the end of the month,’ she answered. ‘It depends on how things go here, but I should be able to get away again by then.’

Was he hoping the trip would be to see him, or was he just assuming it was business that would bring her? It was another of the zillion ambiguities she’d failed to sort out during the time he’d been here, and she wasn’t going to ask now for fear of him insisting she didn’t fly all that way on his account. Of course, there would be plenty of business for her to attend to while she was there, but the main reason she was going was in the hope they could spend some more time together.

After a while he looked at her again and smiled. ‘You look great,’ he said. ‘The way I imagined you would once we got you out of those solidly constructed designer suits and into something … well, something like this.’

The compliment made Sandy’s eyes shine, for the retro Seventies outfit she was wearing today – beige bootleg pants, a short cream sleeveless shirt and a pair of white Hobbs platform sandals – was one of the few she had chosen herself. Most of the rest of her new wardrobe, as well as the soft shaggy hair and subtle make-up,
was
down to him, for, true to the promise he had made in LA, he had thrown himself fully into restoring her to youth and introducing her to style. They’d had an hysterical – and fiercely expensive – time doing it, especially as he was no connoisseur, which meant they’d relied pretty heavily on fashion magazines and sales assistants, and on the whole, as long as it pleased him, it pleased Sandy too. She’d even tried, one time in Selfridges, to get him to help choose her underwear, but he’d backed off, laughing and insisting he’d be way out of his depth with that.

It really had been the oddest time, for in every other way they were just like a couple – calling each other two or three times a day, taking each other to parties and discos and concerts, and laughing and giggling over all kinds of secrets they swore they’d never told anyone else. They seemed so close, behaved like they were, and even talked like they were, but not once had he even attempted to kiss her, much less anything else. And it wasn’t as if he could be thinking she was the one holding back, not when she’d practically told him right out that she wouldn’t mind sleeping with him, and had acted as sexily and suggestively as she knew how.

Were it not for the fact that she knew he’d slept with Ellen his resistance might not have rankled so much, but just the thought of him making love to Ellen, who already had Michael, was a horrible and totally insufferable truth to have to deal with. What, she wanted to know, was so damned fantastic about Ellen Shelby that made her irresistible to the men Sandy wanted? It might not have been so bad if they wanted Sandy too, but whereas she did everything in her power to attract them, it seemed all Ellen had to do was exist. Of course, her existence might not be such a brilliant one now, considering what lay ahead.

‘I had a call from Michelle last night,’ Tom said.

Sandy turned to look at him. ‘Oh?’

He glanced at her briefly. ‘Ellen and Michael got back the night before last.’

‘Oh,’ she repeated, in a much darker tone. ‘A week early. Did she say any more than that?’

‘Apparently Ellen’s moved out. She’s gone to stay with Matty.’

Though Sandy’s heart was starting to beat faster, she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that. ‘Did Michelle mention anything about the baby?’

‘No. She didn’t seem to know what was going on.’

They were both quiet for a moment. Sandy wondered what he was thinking, how the news had really affected him. For her it seemed slightly unreal. Though it was what she had wanted, to break Michael and Ellen up, the fact that it had now happened wasn’t giving her quite the satisfaction she’d expected.

‘The press are going to give them a hard time over this,’ Tom commented.

Sandy shot him a look. ‘Are you going to tell Ellen you know about the baby?’ she asked.

He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I doubt it. I’ll need to get the lie of the land, see how she wants to play it. This is going to be real tough for her.’

Sandy couldn’t help resenting the fact that he cared, but she said nothing. Spending this time with him had given her some insight on a quite different approach to her responses, one that was less hostile and defensive than the way she would normally react. And though she wasn’t absolutely in tune with it yet, in this instance she found that she could feel herself holding back for a moment, and instead of seeing the situation for how it was affecting her, she was giving some consideration to how it was affecting him. And looking at it from where he was, she realized what a struggle of conscience he must be having, for he probably really valued his friendship with Michael and would be as sorry to lose that as he would to lose the movie. What he might gain,
though
, was Ellen and a child, and having only just found him herself Sandy felt devastated by the idea of having to let him go.

Of course it could turn out that Michael would be free, but it wasn’t Michael she wanted any more, it was Tom. No-one had ever taken this much interest in her before, or bothered to make her feel this special, and though in some ways it seemed to weaken her, in others it was lending her an inner-strength that was so much easier to deal with than the massive chip she’d always had on her shoulder. But now the fact that he was soon going to be in the same city as Ellen, the same building, the same room and maybe even the same bed, was starting to eat her up so badly she had to force herself not to think about it for fear of all the violent things she wanted to do.