The Woman Who Stole My Life (39 page)

‘Let’s get you in out of the cold.’ Gilda took my arm. ‘Mannix, you go home. We’ll catch up later.’

Mannix hesitated.

‘Go,’ Gilda said. ‘Really. Stella and I need to talk. I’ll make everything okay.’

Gently, Gilda led me into the front lobby of Blisset Renown. Mannix was still out in the street, looking uncertain.

The security guard seemed surprised to see us back so soon after surrendering our visitors’ tags.

‘We’re good,’ Gilda said to him. ‘We don’t need passes. This won’t take long.’

Through the glass door, I saw that Mannix had gone.

‘It’s okay,’ Gilda said to me, reassuringly. ‘It’s all okay.’

I was reeling with confusion. Why did she keep telling me things were okay when I knew they weren’t?

‘Everything’s the same as before,’ she said. ‘Except this time, well, I guess I’m the star.’

She was so confident, so very sure of herself.

‘Today with Bryce?’ I asked. ‘Did it “just happen”? Or you had it planned?’

She went pink, then giggled. ‘You got me. It’s been in the works a little while.’

‘How long?’

She twisted coyly. ‘You know … a while.’

How long was ‘a while’?

My memory scooted back over all that had happened and, suddenly, every event of the past eighteen months stacked one on top of the other, collapsing neatly into one realization. ‘Oh my God.’ My face flooded with heat. ‘That morning I bumped into you in Dean & DeLuca? That wasn’t an accident?’

She looked as gleeful as a naughty child. ‘Okay, it wasn’t. I paid attention the night before. I knew you were going to the Academy Manhattan and I thought there was a chance I might bump into you at Dean & DeLuca. I thought we could be … friends.’

‘Friends?’ My voice was faint.

‘Don’t look at me that way! I’ve been your friend. I’ve kept you skinny. I’ve styled your tours. I’ve even blow-dried your hair.’

‘But …’

‘Is it my fault that your book bombed and they don’t want another?’

‘No, but …’

‘I have talent,’ she said. ‘Do you know how it hurts to have your stuff turned down again and again? You want me to walk away from this opportunity because it’s with the people who don’t want to publish you?’

‘No –’

‘We’ve all got to survive, right?’

She was making it sound like I was a willing participant in every strange thing that had happened today.

‘This is simply business,’ she said.

‘What about you and Mannix?’ What was going on?

She flushed even pinker. ‘Okay, that’s not business. Well, not
just
business. Mannix and I have become close. Yeah, it’s
grown over the last few months. A connection that wasn’t there before.’

‘But you told me –’

‘– that I wouldn’t go after your guy. I meant it. But he’s not your guy any more. You and Mannix have been winding down for a while. You and him were all about the sex and when did that last happen?’

I was speechless and horrified – it was true that Mannix and I hadn’t had sex since before Roland’s stroke. But I’d been putting it down to the fact that I’d been working such long hours.

‘He’s my agent now. And, I guess, my manager,’ Gilda said. ‘He’ll be doing the stuff he used to do for you. He’ll be spending all his time with me.’

‘I thought you only liked older men.’

‘Are you kidding? They make me sick to my stomach. I’ve … hung out with them because they’ve been, you know, helpful. But I want Mannix.’

‘What does Mannix say?’

She lowered her eyes. ‘I know you’re hurting.’ She looked up and held me in her blue gaze. ‘Ask him to walk away from me and I promise you he won’t.’

‘But has anything happened between you?’

‘This is difficult for you, Stella.’ She patted my arm. ‘It’ll get easier.’

‘Has anything actually happened?’

‘Stella, this is difficult for you. But he wants this too.’

‘Ruben?’

‘Stella? I’m not even meant to be talking to you.’

‘I need a favour – Laszlo Jellico’s number.’

He hesitated.

‘You owe me,’ I said.

‘Okay.’ He rattled the number off. ‘You didn’t get it from me, right?’

Immediately I rang Laszlo Jellico and, to my surprise, he answered. I thought I’d be shunted to voicemail.

‘Mr Jellico? My name is Stella Sweeney. We met once, in Bryce Bonesman’s apartment. I wonder if I could speak to you about Gilda Ashley.’

After a long pause, he said, ‘There’s a coffee shop on the corner of Park and Sixty-ninth. I’ll be there in half an hour.’

‘Okay. See you then.’

I walked across town and found Laszlo Jellico’s coffee shop. I’d been at the table for about five minutes when he arrived. He didn’t look as big and bushy as he had that long-ago night in Bryce’s apartment. I stood up and signalled to him and he came over.

‘I’m Stella Sweeney,’ I said.

‘I remember you.’ His voice wasn’t as boomy as I recalled. He sat down opposite me. ‘So? Gilda Ashley?’

‘Thank you for meeting me. Can I ask where you first met her?’

‘At a cocktail party.’

‘So …? You clicked? You asked for her number?’

‘No. We barely exchanged two words. But the very next day, when I was taking my dogs to the dog park, I bumped into her in the street just outside my apartment. Serendipitous, right?’

‘Right.’

‘I thought it incongruous,’ he said. ‘Because she was from a different part of town. But she was –’

‘– visiting a client.’ I finished the sentence for him.

He chuckled coldly. ‘She got you too, eh? She popped up in my path and, boy, was she surprised! If her current career doesn’t work out, she could always turn to acting.’

‘So what happened?’

‘I found her to be charming and somehow it was agreed that she do-over my diet. Then she overheard me grouching about my paperwork and she offered her assistance. Very quickly she made herself … indispensable.’

I was thinking back to that morning in Dean & DeLuca. I’d been so grateful for a friendly face in this big fast city. It was to Gilda’s credit how quickly she’d made herself vitally important to me also.

‘We got on famously until she produced a collection of pages …’ Laszlo waved his hand in the air. ‘I hardly know how to describe it – lists and
symptoms and simplistic solutions to women’s health problems. She insisted it was a book. It was not a book. She wanted my help in getting it published. But it was entirely without merit. I couldn’t advocate it. Shortly after I refused my endorsement, she withdrew her … friendship. I gave her no further thought until suddenly she was being squired around town by that old fraud Joss Wootten. He made a contemptible attempt to taunt me because he was – if I remember his words correctly – “banging” my girl. And in the midst of his swaggering, he alluded to his tremendous good fortune in having had a chance meeting with Gilda in his dentist’s waiting room, no less.’

I had a flash of terror mixed with something close to admiration for Gilda.

‘I became – a little late in the day – mistrustful. I did a small piece of background research and …’ He shrugged. ‘And nothing. The University of Overgaard exists. It’s an online school but there’s nothing wrong with that. She got her piece of paper. Her qualifications as a nutritionist and personal trainer are real. Then today I heard that my old friend Bryce Bonesman plans to publish a book by her. And this book consists of – how did I describe it? – “lists and symptoms and simplistic solutions to women’s health problems”.’

I nodded.

‘She had her eye on the prize,’ Laszlo Jellico said. ‘And now she’s got it. She played me but I probably wasn’t the first guy and I doubt I’ll be the last. Speaking of which,’ he added. ‘I hear your husband is agenting her.’

‘He’s not my husband.’

‘Right. And he’s not ever going to be. Not if Gilda wants him.’

‘Gilda wants him.’ I was afraid I might faint.

Laszlo Jellico shook his head. ‘So Gilda’s going to get him. I’m sorry, kid.’

As I made my way home, waves of panic washed over me as I contemplated the reality that I’d lost Mannix. Mixed with the horror was humiliation, as I relived, again and again, the conversation in Bryce’s office.
We don’t love you, Stella.
There will be no second book for you, Stella.

There had been multiple betrayals
–
from Bryce, from Gilda and, worst of all, from Mannix. Why hadn’t he stood up and pounded the table and said he wouldn’t tolerate a book written only by Gilda?

By the time I reached the apartment, I was so overwhelmed I thought my head would burst.

Mannix was in the living room, in front of his computer. He jumped to his feet. ‘Where have you been? I’ve rung a thousand times.’

Breathless with anguish, I asked, ‘Are you really Gilda’s agent?’

‘You know I am.’

‘And her manager?’

‘I don’t know. I guess so. If I’m paid to do it.’

‘How could you?’ I was so wounded by his treachery that I could barely breathe. ‘You should be in my corner. Did you know she was going to pull that stunt today with Bryce?’

‘Of course I didn’t. I was as shocked as you were. But – Stella, please look at me.’ He tried to grasp me by the shoulders but I stepped away from him. ‘Neither of us has any income. She’s all we’ve got.’

‘I don’t want you working with her.’

‘Stella,’ he beseeched me fervently. ‘We’ve no other option.’

‘Has anything happened with you and her?’

‘No.’

‘She said you’ve become close.’

He paused. ‘… Maybe we’re closer than we once were.’

I went cold with fear. That was enough to confirm all the doubts and questions she’d stirred up.

‘Stella, I’m just trying to be honest.’

‘Mannix.’ I fixed him in my gaze. ‘I’m begging you to walk away from Gilda. She’s not what she seems. I met Laszlo Jellico. He says she uses people.’

‘Well, he would, wouldn’t he?’

‘Why?’

‘Because Gilda left him and he was in bits. He’s been a prick to her ever since.’

‘That’s not what happened. Gilda showed him her book and – Hey! What do you know about it?’

‘She told me.’

‘When?’

‘Sometime.’ He thought about it. ‘On the phone. Probably when I was in Ireland.’

‘What? You had lovely chats where you confided in each other?’

‘You’re making it sound …’

‘Oh God.’ I choked. I was done for. Gilda’s beauty and her
absolute certainty that she’d get what she wanted – I had no chance against that combination.

‘Mannix, she’s stolen my life.’

‘She hasn’t stolen me.’

‘She has. You just don’t know it yet.’

He compressed his mouth into a tight line.

‘Mannix,’ I said. ‘I know what you’re like.’

‘I’m not
like
anything.’

‘You are. You’re led by your dick.’

He recoiled. He looked sickened. ‘Have you ever trusted me?’

‘No. And I was right not to. We’re too different, you and I. We were a mistake right from the start.’

‘That’s what you think?’ He bit the words out. I realized he was very, very angry.

‘Yes.’ Well, I was angry too.

‘Really?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then I’d better leave.’

‘Then you’d better.’

‘Really? Because if you tell me to go, I’ll go.’

‘Go.’

He looked at me, his expression bitter. ‘You never told me you loved me. So I guess you never did.’

‘The time was never right.’

‘It’s certainly not right now, is it?’

‘No.’

He made his way into our bedroom and pulled a small suitcase out from a cupboard. I watched as he threw some clothes into it. I was waiting for him to stop but he went into the bathroom and emerged with a razor and a toothbrush, which he added to his stuff.

‘Don’t forget your medication.’ I lunged for his bedside
drawer, found a card of tablets and chucked them into the case.

Silently he zipped it shut and went into the hall, where he put on his coat. Even as he opened the front door, I thought he’d call a halt, but he kept going. The door slammed behind him and then he was gone.

That night, he didn’t come back and it was like living in a bad dream. I was tormented by thoughts that he was with Gilda, but I wouldn’t ring him. I’d always had to work hard to resist being annihilated by the force of his personality and this was more true now than ever. I held onto my pride like it was a shield – so long as I had it, I still existed.

At around six in the morning, he called me. ‘Baby.’ He sounded wretched. ‘Can I come home?’

I had to reach deep into myself for strength. ‘Are you still Gilda’s agent?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then no, you can’t.’

He called again at 10 a.m. and we had a near-identical conversation. It happened several times over the next two days. I didn’t know where he was living, but I couldn’t bear to discover it was with Gilda, so I didn’t ask. I could have got some clue about what he was doing by checking our bank account – to see if he was withdrawing cash or debiting costs to a hotel – but I was too afraid to look
.

I told no one what was happening because if nobody knew, then it wasn’t real.

But Jeffrey began to notice. ‘Mom, what’s going on with you and Mannix?’

Guilt flamed through me.

‘Have you and Mannix broken up?’ he asked.

I flinched at the words. ‘I don’t know. We’re having a … disagreement. He’s staying someplace else for a few days.’

‘It’s something to do with Gilda?’ Jeffrey asked.

I froze – how did he know? What had he seen?

‘I just noticed that Gilda isn’t around either.’ He gave me an anxious look. ‘But everything’s going to be okay?’

‘Hopefully.’

I still had a sliver of faith that, if I waited long enough, things would somehow right themselves spontaneously. But the hours ticked by and, hollow-eyed, I lurched from room to room, unable to settle to anything.

I had no one to confide in. I couldn’t ring Karen – she’d tell me that this had always been on the cards and that I shouldn’t be surprised. I couldn’t ring Zoe – she’d start crying and telling me that all men were bastards. And I couldn’t ring my best friend in New York because she was Gilda.

I wondered what advice I’d give to someone else in my position. I realized I’d probably tell her that she should fight for him.

But the only way to fight for Mannix was to keep delivering ultimatums.

The next time he rang, I repeated what I’d said in every other conversation: ‘Mannix, I’m begging you. Please stop being Gilda’s agent.’

‘I can’t not be her agent.’ His tone was urgent. ‘Our money’s running out, Stella, and this is the only chance we have.’

‘Mannix, you’re not hearing me: if you’re her agent, we have
no
chance. We might as well call it a day right now.’

‘Be careful of what you’re saying.’

‘I’m only saying the facts.’ I was scared to death. ‘You have to get away from her.’

‘Or?’

‘Or else we’re finished.’

‘Right.’

He hung up.

I sat staring at the phone, then I saw that Jeffrey was in the room. Shame drenched me. He shouldn’t be hearing stuff like this. He was too vulnerable; his short life had already been subjected to too much upheaval.

‘Hey, Mom.’ He tried to sound chirpy. ‘Let’s go out for a pizza.’

‘… Okay.’

We went to a neighbourhood Italian and we both made an effort to be cheery and I felt a bit more hopeful when we returned.

We were taking off our hats and scarfs by the coat stand in the hall, when I noticed something not right – Mannix’s heavy boots were gone. They usually stood by the front door with the other winter shoes and there was a faint outline of them on the carpet. But they were gone.

Breathless, I ran into the bedroom and threw open the wardrobe; Mannix’s side was empty.

‘Oh my God.’ I was gasping for breath.

Followed by Jeffrey, I raced around the apartment – Mannix’s computer was gone; his sports bag was gone; his chargers were gone. With each fresh realization, it was like being punched in the stomach.

With fumbling fingers I opened the safe: I couldn’t find his passport. I scrabbled through all the documents and papers and still couldn’t find it, and finally I admitted the truth: he was gone. Properly gone.

I ran and knocked on Esperanza’s door. ‘Did you see Mannix? Did he come here while Jeffrey and I were out?’

But Esperanza was conveniently blind and deaf. ‘I see nobody, madam.’

I threw myself on my bed and curled into a ball. ‘He’s gone.’ Tears began to pour down my face. ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘You told him to go, Mom,’ Jeffrey said.

‘He wasn’t supposed to do it.’

I curled in on myself even tighter and I howled like a child, then I caught a glimpse of Jeffrey’s terrified face. Instantly I choked back my grief. ‘I’m okay.’ I sounded like an animal trying to speak. My face was drenched with tears. ‘Sorry, Jeffrey.’ I sat up. ‘I don’t mean to scare you. I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.’

Jeffrey was making a call. ‘Betsy, it’s Mom. She’s not so good.’

The following morning, Jeffrey sidled into my bedroom.

‘Sweetie.’ I sat up in bed. ‘I’m sorry about yesterday.’

Betsy had come over, with a Xanax she’d purloined from Chad; she’d made me take it. After a while I’d calmed down and eventually I’d fallen asleep.

‘Mom, can we go home?’ Jeffrey asked.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Home to Ireland?’

‘No, sweetie. You’re in school here. You’ve got to finish that.’

‘But I hate it. I hate the other kids. All they talk about is money and how rich their dads are. I don’t want to go to that school any more.’

‘What are you saying? You want to … drop out?’

‘Not drop out. Just give it up for this year. Start again in September at my old school in Ireland.’

I went silent for a long time. This was catastrophic. Everything was crashing down around me.

‘Are you on drugs?’ I asked.

‘No. I just hate my school.’ Then he admitted, ‘I sort of hate New York.’

‘I thought you loved it.’

‘In the beginning. But the people here, they’re not like us, they’re too tough. And Betsy’s not coming back to us. She’s all grown-up now. She’s gone.’

‘I’m sorry, Jeffrey.’ I was consumed with remorse. ‘I’ve been a terrible mother to you.’

‘Not everything was your fault. But I want to go home.’

‘Would you like to live with your dad?’

‘Not really. But I will, if that’s my only choice. Think about things, Mom. You have no book deal and Mannix and you have broken up – you’ve no reason to stay in New York.’

Silently I contemplated the bitter truth of his words.

‘How do you know I’ve no book deal?’

‘Betsy told me. She said everybody knows. So can we go home?’

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘We’ll go home.’

‘Both of us?’

‘Both of us.’

‘Do you mean it?’

Did
I mean it? I was moving into very dangerous territory – I couldn’t mess Jeffrey around. If I said we were going back to Ireland, then we really
were
going back to Ireland. It was like deciding to board a fast train knowing I wouldn’t be able to get off.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I mean it. We won’t be able to move back into our old house right away. We’ll have to give the tenants a month’s notice.’

‘That’s okay. I’ll stay with Dad. And you can stay with Auntie Karen.’

I rang Mannix, who answered immediately. ‘Baby?’

‘You can move back into the apartment.’

‘What are you saying?’ He sounded hopeful.

‘Jeffrey and I are leaving New York. We’re going back to Ireland.’

‘You’re leaving New York?’ He was shocked. ‘When?’

‘Two days’ time.’

‘Really. Right.’ He couldn’t hide his anger. ‘Well, good luck with that.’

‘Thanks –’