Valentine (20 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Farnworth

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BOOK: Valentine
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It was hot, desperate, feverish sex. She pulling off his
T-shirt, unbuttoning his jeans, he ripping off her underwear,
lifting up her dress and driving into her, grabbing
her wrists and holding them over her head, kissing and
biting her breasts, she raking her fingers down his back.
She ordering him to change positions, with her on top,
then him changing again.

'I fucking love you,' he panted, thrusting into her.

'Then fuck me harder,' she gasped. And with every
thrust it felt as if she was being wrenched away from Jack,
away from the tender, sensuous, passionate sex they'd had.
This was hard, selfish sex, both wanting to get their
satisfaction first and despite the waves of pleasure pulsing
through Valentine, when she came it felt like the end of
something. It felt like a destruction.

'Where the fuck have you been?' Lauren demanded as
Valentine let herself into the flat the following morning.
'We've all been out of our minds with worry about you!
Couldn't you have phoned?'

Valentine shrugged, too hungover and too disconsolate
to speak. She trudged into the kitchen and put
the kettle on. She had regretted her night with Finn as
soon as she had woken up.

Lauren followed her, arms folded, looking like she
meant business. 'Jack rang, desperate to speak to you. He
left his mobile behind when he went to rehearsal and
came back to all these messages from you. He's on the
train now.'

'Oh, so he's managed to drag himself away from
Tamara, has he?' Valentine said bitterly.

'What are you on about? There's nothing going on
between him and Tamara! He told me about that magazine
article; it was a complete fabrication. A fantasy on
Tamara's part.'

Valentine suddenly felt very wobbly. She sat down at
the table.

'Where have you been, V?' Lauren persisted.

She looked down at her hands as if she could somehow
avoid the question. But there was no getting away from
it. She couldn't lie. 'I've been with Finn,' she said flatly.

Lauren's mouth fell open in astonishment; she couldn't
even say her mantra.

'I slept with him. I thought Jack was having an affair
with Tamara Moore, so I thought I may as well.' Her
voice was cold and robotic. She was in shock.

Now Lauren had put her hands up to her mouth. 'You
are joking, aren't you?'

Valentine shook her head.

'Jack will be here in an hour. What are you going to
tell him?'

'The truth,' Valentine replied, giving a bitter little
smile. 'I've always hated liars. I wouldn't do that to Jack.'

'Oh V,' Lauren said with feeling. 'What a bloody mess.'

Valentine felt numb in the hour before Jack arrived. She
spent ages in the shower, as if the hot water could erase
what she had done, but all the perfumes in Arabia weren't
going to get this situation clean. She could hardly bring
herself to look at him when he walked into the flat. Lauren
had tactfully gone out.

'I'm here, see? I would never be unfaithful to you,'
Jack said as he went to hug her. Instead of returning it
Valentine stood stiffly with her arms by her side. She
didn't deserve the hug.

'Let's go into the living room,' she mumbled, as if they
were acquaintances.

'I was thinking more on the lines of your futon,' Jack
said playfully and then froze as he caught sight of
Valentine's stricken face. She turned and walked away
from him. He sat down on the sofa while she stood by
the window. 'I'm really sorry about that magazine story.
It's all lies. Yes I was out with Tamara, but we were having
coffee and what the picture doesn't show is that Seb was
with us as well and he'd just gone to the bathroom or
something. I admit that Tamara does seem to have a thing
for me, but I don't have any feelings for her. I swear you
can trust me.'

Valentine felt as if her mouth were full of dust. She
had broken what she had with Jack, smashed it into a
million pieces. He didn't know yet, but she would have
to tell him.

'But you looked so loved up in the picture,' Valentine
said sadly. 'And you were being so nice about her when
I was last up in Manchester. And she so obviously wants
you.'

'I felt sorry for her, that's all.' He paused then said
with passion, 'Valentine, you sound so strange. Has something
happened? Because you can trust me; I would never
be unfaithful to you.
Never
. Where were you when I rang
last night? I was really worried.'

'I was just out,' she replied, hanging her head in shame.
She had been so sure of Jack's guilt. Now she believed
him. She had jumped to the wrong conclusion; she had
ruined everything.

'Who with?' Jack asked quietly. Then when Valentine
didn't answer, he said with more urgency, 'Tell me, who
were you with?'

'Finn,' Valentine said, her voice barely audible. 'You
see, I thought you were with Tamara, and when you didn't
phone I believed that the story must be true.'

Jack had got up from the sofa and was standing in
front of her. 'Tell me you just had a drink with him.'

Valentine shook her head; she couldn't speak. But she
didn't have to. Her silence said it all.

He gripped her arms tightly, and repeated, 'But it was
just a drink, wasn't it?'

Valentine could not bring herself to look at him; she
was crying now, hot tears coursing down her cheeks,
weeping with shame for what she had done and for what
she had lost.

'No!' Jack exclaimed, letting go of her and taking a
step backwards as if he couldn't bear to touch her, be
close to her. 'You screwed that worthless, gutless shit! How
could you? After everything we had together! You were
the one, Valentine.'

Now she looked up at him and the full force of what
she had done hit her.

'Well, I hope it was worth it for you.' Hurt, anger and
something worse in his voice – he despised her.

Valentine wanted to beg him to forgive her, that it was
a one-off, that it would never happen again, but the words
sounded so hollow and empty even inside her head.

'I love you, Jack,' she whispered.

'No, you don't fucking love me! That's not what love
is. You were so quick to believe that I had been unfaithful,
all because of what that shit did to you. Maybe you two
are meant to be together.' He walked away as if he couldn't
bear to look at her anymore. At the doorway he paused
and said coldly, 'You deserve each other. For all I know
you've been shagging him all along.'

'I haven't, I swear. I made a mistake. I know it sounds
mad but I really believed you were with Tamara. Can't
you forgive me?'

He shook his head. 'It's over.' And he carried on walking
out of the flat.

13
If Only . . .

The next month was a blur. So many times Valentine was
on the verge of calling Jack and begging him to forgive
her, but she kept remembering the expression on his face
when he realised what she'd done. If only she hadn't been
so quick to jump to conclusions. If only. If only. If only.
The world did not run on 'if only's. Lauren was a true
friend, never once saying, 'What the hell did you do that
for?' She listened to her endlessly talking about Jack, made
her cups of tea, poured her glasses of wine. Never judged
her. Her mum and Lottie were brilliant as well and insisted
on taking her out to the cinema or inviting her round for
dinner, not that she felt like doing anything other than
lying in bed. But she appreciated their efforts.

Acting would have been a distraction, but no auditions
came through for her. She got a series of temping jobs
and felt as if she was sleepwalking through the days, with
just misery for company and the painful knowledge that
she only had herself to blame. Her nights were given over
to fantasising that Jack could forgive her and they'd get
back together. She didn't give Finn a second thought. He
was away in the States again for another audition and
despite proclaiming that he and Valentine were meant to
be together she hardly heard from him.

Then Lauren announced that Nathan had invited her
to spend a month with him in San Francisco but that she
had said no, because she didn't want to leave Valentine
in such a state. Valentine wouldn't hear of it and urged
her to go, though she felt the dark side beckoning. Lily
and Frank were on her case. She had dreaded telling the
old timers about breaking up with Jack, fearing that Lily
especially would have a real go at her and tell her how
monumentally stupid and selfish she had been. But Lily
had just hugged her and said, 'My poor dear Valentine;
how wretched you must feel.' And Valentine had cried,
and cried and cried till her face was red and blotchy and
her eyes were so sore she could hardly open them. Frank
had taken to bringing up fresh fruit smoothies every
morning which he'd made especially for her, because he
and Lily were worried that she wasn't eating. And she
wasn't. Not even the siren call of peanut butter could
tempt her. How ironic; it seemed she could be fat and
happy or thin and unhappy.

She hadn't seen Piers since the disastrous lunch at
Nobu, as he'd been away filming, but the day after Lauren's
departure she received a call from Greta. Olivia had
arranged a birthday surprise for Piers; was Valentine free
on Friday? Yes, Valentine was free – her diary was wide
open. She was feeling so low she didn't even ask what
the surprise was, just registered that she needed to dress
for dinner and pack an overnight bag. On the day itself
she barely had the energy to get dressed and put on makeup,
but she forced herself to go through the motions. Piers
seemed pleased to see her and gave her a warm welcome
when the chauffeur-driven people-carrier picked her up.
Well, warm by his standards – he shook her hand slightly
longer than usual. Olivia seemed as cool as ever and the
supercilious Saul gave her one of his 'you're not worth
my while engaging with' greetings, his gaze fixed just
past her shoulder as if looking at someone far more
interesting.

'Happy Birthday Piers,' Valentine said, sinking back
into the leather seat and handing him his present. She'd
had no idea what to buy Piers. What did you buy someone
who had absolutely everything? In the end her mum had
come up with a suggestion that she give him a photograph
album full of pictures of her through the years.
Valentine had no idea how this would go down; she only
hoped that Piers didn't feel that she was trying to make
a point of how he hadn't been there for her.

In the event Piers's reaction was startling. As soon as
he saw the photographs his eyes filled with tears and he
reached out for her hand. 'Thank you, Valentine. This is
a wonderful present. I'm only sorry I wasn't there for you,
but I want you to know that I'm here for you now.' He
seemed to be struggling to compose his feelings as he said,
'Olivia, take a look at this. Isn't it absolutely charming?'

Olivia was sitting in the front seat; she briefly turned
around and said, 'I will later, darling. You know how carsick
I get.'

Olivia's travel sickness meant that she required
everyone to be silent on the journey. Piers and Saul both
put on headphones and watched films on their laptops
while Valentine gazed blankly out of the window. She
had imagined they were probably headed for some luxury
hotel for dinner. Three hours later they were driving into
the centre of Manchester and pulling up outside the The
Lowry Hotel. Valentine knew it was supposed to be a
luxury hotel, but even so it seemed a long way to come.
It was also a coincidence as Frank and Lily were up in
Manchester as well, seeing Jack's play. Valentine started
to have a bad feeling about this whole Manchester trip,
the bad feeling just got a whole lot worse with Olivia's
next comment. 'We just have an hour to freshen up before
the play begins.'

'What play is that?' Valentine asked, with a sinking
feeling.

'
Lear
, didn't Greta tell you?'

Valentine shook her head. Of all the plays in all the
world, why, oh why did it have to be that one? How could
she see Jack again and know that she had lost him? It
would be unbearable. But now she was here, how could
she not?

'I'm really looking forward to meeting your boyfriend,'
Piers put in. 'We're hoping he'll join us for dinner.'

Valentine's heart sank further still; this just got worse.
She felt as if Olivia must have arranged this surprise just
to torment her. 'Actually, I'm not sure if that will be
possible.' She hesitated. 'We broke up a month ago.'

Olivia's 'Oh,' said
I told you so
.

Piers looked at Valentine. 'I'm sorry to hear that. We
had no idea, otherwise we never would have put you in
this situation, would we, Olivia?'

Olivia shook her head. But Valentine couldn't help
wondering if she was telling the truth. Wasn't she supposed
to be good friends with Tamara's mother?

'Are you going to be OK coming to the theatre?' Piers
continued. 'I understand if it's too painful for you.'

'I'll be OK,' Valentine managed, thinking of Lily and
Frank. Perhaps if Jack saw her with the couple he'd think
less badly of her, remember that he'd once loved her.
Perhaps there was a tiny flicker of hope.

The Royal Exchange was packed. Valentine scanned
the rows for Lily and Frank, but couldn't see them
anywhere. She hoped the train journey hadn't been too
much for Lily; she'd been looking so frail lately.
Valentine's party was in the third row from the front.
Now she was not only feeling apprehensive about seeing
Jack after the play, she was feeling nervous
for
him. This
was a really big deal. She desperately wanted it to go
well for him.

She need not have worried. From the moment Jack
appeared as Edmund, bastard son of the Duke of
Gloucester, in Act I he was mesmerising. He was sexy,
brutal, and persuasive. A man of no conscience, who
didn't care what he had to do to get what he wanted.
Valentine had thought that she wouldn't be able to see
beyond the fact it was Jack, but he played his part so well
that she almost forgot she knew him. It was a tour de
force and she sensed that this would be the making of
him.

The same could not be said of Tamara as Cordelia.
She was toe-curlingly bad, playing her as a simpering girl
rather than a strong-minded, principled young woman,
and she murdered her wonderful speeches. As Valentine
had predicted it was a relief in Act V when Lear carried
her lifeless body on stage after she'd been hung; no doubt
most of the audience had been itching to strangle her
themselves from Act I.

'An utter triumph!' Piers declared, clapping loudly at
the end.

'Valentine, I know it's awkward but do you think you
might be able to introduce Jack to Piers? He would be
perfect for his next film,' Olivia whispered, so Piers
could not hear. Clearly a woman with an empathy
bypass.

'I'm not at all sure that Jack is even speaking to me,'
Valentine said quietly. 'And anyway, won't Tamara wonder
why I am with Piers?'

'Tamara knows about the situation.' She said 'situation'
as if the thought of Valentine being related to Piers
was distasteful to her. 'Tamara's an old family friend and
I trust her completely.'

Valentine felt a sudden flash of resentment because
Piers had been so insistent that she tell no one. Olivia
and Piers led the way to the bar, with Valentine trailing
behind, accompanied by the still-chinos-wearing Saul. Did
he not possess any other trousers?

'Piers has something in mind for Jack. Tamara has
been telling him how talented he is.' He paused. 'And he
is. It's a pity you're not still with him; looks like he'll really
be going places. It would have been good for your career.
Any parts yet or are you still "resting"?' A most vile chinos-wearing
traitor!

She ignored the comment about her work and said
sarcastically, 'With your degree of sensitivity you should
think about having a relationship column.'

Saul gazed over her shoulder. 'Actually, I'm too busy
writing successful movie scripts.' As they walked up to the
bar, Valentine wrung a tiny piece of satisfaction out of
the situation by doing the whatever-minger signal behind
his back.

A table had been reserved for Piers and his party, with
champagne on ice. 'Jack is exactly what I've been looking
for, with that combination of menace and raw sexuality,'
Piers said enthusiastically to Valentine. 'He couldn't be
more perfect.'

'No he couldn't,' Valentine replied sadly.

'Sorry,' Piers said. 'That was tactless of me.'

At that moment she spotted Lily and Frank and waved.
The pair walked slowly over to the table, Lily clinging to
Frank as if she could hardly manage to walk. 'Piers, these
are my friends Lily and Frank,' she said as the couple
finally made it to the table.

Piers smiled. 'Good to meet you. You'll join us for a
glass of champagne?'

Valentine noticed that Olivia looked slightly peeved by
Piers' offer of hospitality and while Piers made polite
conversation with the couple she sat in glacial silence,
only nodding when Frank told her how much he had
loved her performance in one of her films.

'Oh look!' Lily exclaimed. 'There's Jack! He's coming
over!'

Valentine's heart was racing so fast she felt like the
time Lauren had made her take poppers as a dare. His
hair was still damp from a shower; he was dressed in
jeans and a black T-shirt. He'd had to pump up for
the part of Edmund and his body looked fitter, in both
senses of the word, than ever. His lovely muscular arms
were now even more lovely and muscular. He looked
briefly at Valentine, then quickly looked away without
acknowledging her. That hurt, but then what did she
expect? She watched Lily and Frank congratulating
him, Lily doing her usual over-the-top 'You're such a
star, darling,' routine, while Jack smiled and shook his
head.

Then Piers introduced himself, sticking out his hand.
'Piers Hunter. I just wanted to congratulate you on an
awesome performance. Won't you join us for a drink?'
Piers briefly looked at Valentine as if checking it was OK;
well, it was too late now. Jack sat down next to Lily and
continued to avoid eye contact with Valentine. She hung
her head and picked at her thumbnail. It was very hard
holding it together in front of him. Saul poured everyone
a glass of champagne, while Piers continued to enthuse
about Jack's performance.

'And of course Tamara was divine too,' Olivia put in.
'I can imagine you would both look fantastic on film
together, such chemistry between the pair of you.'

Valentine had a sudden urge to throw her champagne
into Olivia's smug face. Why was she being so insensitive?

Just as Valentine thought things couldn't possibly get
any worse, they took a turn for the so much worse as
Tamara turned up, put her arms round Jack's neck and
kissed him. And this was not a 'well done for your performance'
kiss, this was a 'you belong to me' kiss. Just in case
anyone was in any doubt that this was what it signalled,
after she'd said her hellos to everyone else (a particularly
gushing one to Piers), seeing that there was no seat, she
slid onto Jack's lap. Her tiny frame was no doubt light as
a feather. Valentine looked at Jack disbelievingly, as
Tamara whispered something in his ear and giggled. How
long had this been going on? Had he been lying about
his relationship with her? She looked at Lily, then at Frank,
who both looked equally shocked. To pull herself back
from the abyss she was hurtling towards she tried her trick
of listing everything she had to be thankful for in the
world. She had wonderful friends, she had a great relationship
with her mum, she had her health, she'd lost
weight . . . but it was no good. She felt utterly crushed.
Tamara chose this moment to speak to her.

'So what's new with you, V?'

Valentine was about to shrug and mutter, 'Nothing,'
feeling too dejected even to pretend. But Lily spoke up
for her. 'V has got several auditions lined up, one with a
very prestigious director.' Valentine appreciated the lie.

'Oh, what parts?' Tamara replied.

Lily tapped a finger against her nose. 'All hush hush
I'm afraid.'

'Well now,' Olivia spoke, clearly expecting everyone's
attention, 'I suggest dinner – Tamara, Jack? We'd love it
if you could join us.' Her invitation was not extended to
Lily and Frank.

'Thanks, but I am taking Lily and Frank out for dinner,
as they came all the way up here to see me,' Jack replied.

Olivia was forced to back-track. 'Well, of course they
must come too.'

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