Authors: Lucinda Riley
The nurse drew back the curtain and told them that Ava’s bed upstairs was ready. ‘Are you able to get into the wheelchair, or shall we take you up on the trolley?’
‘Definitely the wheelchair,’ said Ava, climbing out of the bed and standing up. ‘See? I’m fine, Uncle David. Please go and find out where LJ is.’
‘I’m afraid you won’t be allowed up on the ward at this time of night anyway, sir,’ clarified the nurse. ‘It’s lights out in twenty minutes.’
‘Okay, but can I take the number of the ward so I can telephone later to see how Ava is?’
‘Of course. They’ll give it to you at reception. Now, here’s your carriage, madam,’ the nurse joked, as a porter arrived with the wheelchair. Ava climbed into it and
David kissed her on the cheek.
‘Any problems at all, you have my contact numbers,’ David said to the nurse as they walked down the corridor with Ava.
‘Goodbye, Uncle David. Please come and see me tomorrow morning and let me know what you found out.’
‘I will, I promise,’ he said, blowing her a kiss as Ava was wheeled into the lift and the doors closed. Hailing a taxi outside the hospital, David gave the address of the
Queen’s Theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue and tried to make sense of what Ava had just told him.
Simon hurriedly made his way back to his dressing room after the charity performance. He had hoped to be changed and ready to meet Ava by now, but there had been a couple of
young royals – patrons of the charity – in the audience, so the cast had been kept behind to be introduced to them. He glanced at his watch and realised he’d better step on it. He
was already unbuttoning the shirt of his costume as he opened the door, so it took him a few seconds to notice that he had a very unwelcome guest.
‘Hello, honey. I came to tell you that I understand why you’re so cross with me. It was a bad thing to do to you, but you’d hurt me so much, you see, I—’
‘Cheska, I’m sorry, but, as I said earlier, I have no idea what you’re talking about. And I’d really prefer it if you would leave.’ Simon sat down at the dressing
table and turned his back to her.
‘Come on now, Bobby,’ she wheedled, standing up so that her reflection appeared in the mirror behind him. ‘You must remember what a good time we had?’ Her hands went to
his shoulders and she started massaging them.
‘For the last time, Cheska,’ he said, shaking them off then standing up himself to face her, ‘I have no idea who this Bobby is. My name is Simon. And if you don’t leave
of your own accord, I’m afraid I’m going to call Security.’
The expression on Cheska’s face changed. ‘You’re throwing me out? After all we’ve shared together? After what you did to me? I saw you earlier with Ava. It’s
disgusting!’
‘What? How on earth can you call it disgusting? I’m in love with her! There’s a very good chance I want to spend my life with her. And I’m afraid, if you don’t like
it, that’s tough.’
Cheska threw back her head and laughed. ‘Come now, Bobby. You know you can never be with Ava.’
‘You’d better tell me why not.’
‘Because’ – Cheska’s eyes flashed victoriously – ‘she’s your daughter! What do you have to say to that?’
Simon stared at her, aghast. ‘You really are insane, aren’t you?’
‘Insane? Hardly. It’s you who’s the bastard here. You got me pregnant and then abandoned me. Yes,
abandoned
me! And I was only fifteen years old.’
‘Cheska, I’m going to say it again: I really think you’re confusing me with someone else.’ Simon tried to keep his voice calm. Cheska’s was rising to fever pitch,
and he could see the madness in her eyes. He edged towards the door as she advanced on him.
‘You always were a no-good lying cheat!’ She reached out suddenly and slapped him hard across the face. And again, and again, until Simon, reeling with shock, managed to grab her by
the wrists.
‘Stop it!’ he said, as he held her fast. Her head dived down and she bit him on his hand. With a howl, Simon let her go and, at once, she was on him, attacking him like a wild
animal, clawing at his face with her long, red nails. She kneed him hard in the groin and he cried out in agony, the pain rendering him helpless. As he doubled over to catch his breath he felt her
hands grasp his neck and begin to squeeze.
‘You don’t deserve to live,’ he heard her say. Spots appeared in front of his eyes as her iron grip strengthened and she harangued him with expletives. Too dazed by now to
defend himself, he fell to the floor, taking her with him.
Oh my God,
he thought,
she’s going to kill me. I’m going to die here . . .
As he began to lose consciousness he saw a figure come through the door and grab Cheska from behind. Suddenly, the grip on his neck was released. Coughing and spluttering as he sucked in as much
air as he could, he saw someone he recognised but couldn’t quite place holding Cheska firmly by her shoulders as she struggled and kicked against him.
‘Cheska! Stop it! Enough! Uncle David’s here now, and everything is going to be all right.’
Cheska went limp in the man’s arms and she crumpled against him like a rag doll. ‘Sorry, Uncle David, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, really I didn’t. Bobby just
wasn’t being very nice to me, you see. Please don’t punish me, will you?’
‘Of course I won’t,’ he said. ‘I’ll look after you, just like I always have.’ Simon sat up, the dizziness beginning to recede, and saw the man fold Cheska
into his arms and stroke her hair. ‘I think I should take you home and put you to bed, don’t you? You’re exhausted, Cheska.’
‘I am,’ she agreed.
The man looked at Simon as he led Cheska to a chair and sat her down. She was almost catatonic now, staring into space, all her aggression gone.
Simon realised his saviour was David Marchmont, Ava’s uncle, known to his many fans as Taffy.
‘Are you okay?’ David mouthed over the top of Cheska’s head.
‘I think so. No harm done,’ Simon said, reaching for a tissue to stem the blood on his hand from Cheska’s bite. ‘She caught me by surprise, but I’m okay.’
David left Cheska in the chair and moved to give Simon a hand up. ‘Ava met with a bit of an accident tonight. She’s fine, but perhaps you’d like to telephone St Thomas’s
Hospital and find out how she is for me,’ he whispered. ‘We’ll need to speak tomorrow, so I’ll meet you at the hospital at ten in the morning. And now,’ he said,
raising his voice and turning to Cheska, ‘I’m going to take—’
But Cheska had already got up and was at the door, turning the handle. Before either of them could react fast enough to stop her, she was through it and gone. Running after her along the
corridor, David saw her disappearing out of the stage door and into the night. Outside in the busy street a few seconds later David looked left and right but could see no sign of her.
‘Damn it!’ he berated himself. He should never have let her go. He’d just have to hope she returned to the Savoy. Deciding he’d take a taxi there straight away in case
Cheska tried to pack and leave in a hurry, he hailed one and climbed inside.
When the cab arrived at the hotel, David climbed out and tipped the doorman. As an afterthought, he turned back to him. ‘I was just wondering if you saw my niece, Cheska Hammond, leave the
hotel earlier tonight? And whether she’s returned yet?’
The doorman knew David of old. ‘As a matter of fact, sir, she came out of the hotel at about half past six and asked me to hail her a cab. I got it for her, but then she must have changed
her mind, because I saw her walking up towards the Strand. I presumed she’d seen somebody she knew. I remember, because it was just before that nasty accident at the traffic lights. The
cabbie I’d hailed was very put out, as he was stuck here with no fare for a good half an hour before the road was unblocked. And I haven’t seen her come back yet, sir.’
‘Thanks,’ David said, pressing another note into his hand. Inside, he walked over to reception and explained he was meant to be meeting his niece, Miss Hammond, in her suite, but
that she hadn’t yet returned. ‘Would you kindly let me in so that I can wait for her in comfort? She might be some time.’
‘We wouldn’t usually, sir, but seeing as it’s you, I’m sure it will be all right. Let me just check with the manager.’
David waited by the desk impatiently, reeling at what the doorman had just told him. He definitely needed to speak to both Ava and Simon tomorrow, but if Cheska had seen them together outside
the hotel . . .
He managed a smile of gratitude when the receptionist confirmed that the manager would allow him into Cheska’s suite.
He wandered through the exquisitely furnished rooms, noticing the many carrier bags from Harrods and various designer stores sitting unopened in the dressing room. God only knew how much the
suite was costing and what Cheska had spent so far. He was all too painfully aware of how she was funding her excesses.
Longing for a shower but not wanting to be taken unawares by a returning Cheska, David poured himself a stiff whisky and sat down to wait.
Greta was fast asleep when she heard the doorbell ring. Switching on the light, she saw it was almost midnight. When it rang again, fear coursed through her. Who on earth could
it be at this time of night? The bell rang again, and again, and then whoever it was began hammering loudly on the door. Putting on her robe, she tiptoed nervously towards the front door.
‘Mother, it’s me, Cheska! Let me in! Please let me in.’
Greta froze in shock. This was the daughter David had told her about, who she hadn’t seen for many years, because she was off in Hollywood being a star on the television.
‘Please, Mummy, open the door. I—’ Greta heard a loud sob. ‘I’ve come back home.’
A tremor of sudden terror made its way up Greta’s spine.
‘Mummy,
please
, I beg you. It’s your little girl here, and I need you. I need you, Mummy . . .’ There were more sobs, and Greta stood paralysed, torn between the
irrational fear she felt, the horror of her neighbours being disturbed and her fascination that this daughter she’d been told she had was now outside her front door.
As the sobbing got louder, the neighbours won. Greta walked towards the door and undid every lock except for the chain that would hold it fast, checking through the opening that this really was
Cheska.
‘Hello? Cheska?’ Greta peered through the gap in the door, but could see nobody.
‘I’m down here, Mummy, sitting on the floor. I’m too tired to get up. Please let me in.’
She peered round then and saw a blonde woman who she recognised immediately from the television. Taking a deep breath, Greta unlocked the chain and opened the door slowly. Cheska, who’d
been leaning against it, almost fell into the apartment.
‘Mummy! Oh Mummy, I love you. Come and give me a big hug like you used to. Please.’ Cheska held out her arms and Greta caught them. She almost dragged her inside, then closed the
door behind them and relocked it. The good news was that Cheska didn’t look scary at all. In fact, she looked the opposite: like a sad, frightened little girl.
‘
Please
hug me, Mummy. Nobody loves Cheska, you see, nobody loves me.’
Greta stood awkwardly above her, wanting to feel or hear or see
some
memory of this daughter she had apparently brought into the world. And, according to David, had brought up and loved
until Cheska went off to Hollywood whilst she was in hospital after her accident.
She’d often wondered why her daughter had never come to visit her or contacted her. As she stared down at the woman, she only wished that the feelings which had once been there for Cheska
would suddenly reignite now she was here in front of her. But just as with David when she’d first opened her eyes and seen him, looking at Cheska was like seeing a stranger. She did as she
was asked anyway, and knelt down to take Cheska in her arms.
‘Mummy, oh Mummy . . . I need you. You’ll keep me safe, won’t you? Don’t let them take me away, please.’
All Greta could do was listen as Cheska babbled on. It was odd to have a grown woman the same size as she was sitting on her knee behaving like a child. But then, Greta supposed, maybe this was
what motherhood was like.
After a while, she quietly suggested that they move from the floor in the hall to the sitting room.
‘Maybe you need something to eat? Or a cup of Horlicks? I like that at night.’
‘Mummy, I know you do. We used to have one together, remember?’ said Cheska, as Greta settled her on the sofa.
‘Of course I do,’ Greta lied, and, seeing Cheska was shivering, she fetched a blanket from a cupboard and put it around her.
‘And what about those sandwiches you used to make me when I came home late from a night shoot? What was it . . . ? Yes! Marmite. I used to love those.’
‘Did you?’ Greta asked her uncertainly. ‘Well, I’ll make some for you now if you like.’
Greta went into the kitchen, amazed that Cheska didn’t seem to know she couldn’t remember anything. Well, she’d just have to pretend. As she switched the kettle on, another
shudder of fear crept up on her, but she dismissed it. This woman was her daughter, and no threat to her whatsoever.
Cheska ate the Marmite sandwiches and drank the Horlicks, and then Greta suggested it was time for them both to go to bed, as it was one o’clock in the morning.
‘Can I sleep with you, Mummy, like we used to? I don’t want to be alone. I have bad dreams . . .’
‘Everyone does, but if you want to sleep with me, that’s fine. I’ll get you something to wear, as you haven’t brought anything with you.’
Greta went to her wardrobe and pulled out a nightgown, wishing she could tell David that Cheska was finally here with her. She thought how strange it would be to sleep in a bed with a grown-up
female stranger, but it was nice to have someone to look after, someone who seemed to need her.
Once Cheska had changed, they both climbed into bed.
‘This is so wonderful. I feel safe here. I think I can sleep.’
‘Good. You look very tired, so you probably need to.’
‘Yes. Goodnight, Mummy.’ Cheska reached over and planted a kiss on Greta’s cheek. ‘Sleep tight.’