Lucy Gordon - Plain Jane in the Spotlight

Then Travis saw something that soured his mood.

‘What the devil is he doing here?’

‘Who?’

‘Him.’ He jerked his head in the direction of a young man capering by the water’s edge.

‘Oh, it’s Lee,’ Charlene said. ‘Well, nearly everyone’s here, so I suppose he was bound to be included. And look, there’s Penny.’

Penny was laying firm claim to her fiancé, which should have eased Travis’s mind, but didn’t.

How did she feel about him? Travis wondered. She said it was over but now he knew that she was an accomplished actress. That was fine for presenting a mask to others, but he hated to think that she might be presenting a mask to him.

‘Shouldn’t you put me down now?’ she said.

‘Not until I have Joe’s permission,’ he said firmly, marching away up the beach.

She chuckled and buried her face in his shoulder. He only wished he could be sure she wasn’t looking back at Lee.

Vera was waiting with a large white towel spread out on the sand. Travis dropped to his knees and laid her out so that she showed to best advantage. Then he lay down beside her, propping his head up on one hand and gazing down adoringly.

She gazed back up, trying to match his expression. It was easy. Too easy, she thought with a flicker of alarm.

He’s only acting, said the warning voice in her mind. Don’t forget that.

And I’m acting too, replied her sensible self. I’m not falling in love with him. I’m not! I’m not! I’m not.

‘Let’s do this later,’ she said. ‘It’s too soon to lie down.’ She rose hurriedly, needing to get further away from Travis. This was dangerous.

Someone had brought beach balls, which were tossed high in the air. Much chasing and jumping followed, showing off several figures to advantage. But none were quite as fine as Travis’s figure, Charlene thought with appreciation.

Following the ‘stage directions’, they held hands to walk along the water’s edge, chased each other, laughed into each other’s faces and generally gave an expert performance.

His arm about her was strong and delightful and she was emboldened to raise her hand and lay it against his chest. She could feel the faint beat of his heart against her fingers and knew there had never been a moment as sweet as this in her life. Perhaps there never would be again, so she would remember and treasure this for ever.

‘How are you managing?’ he asked, leaning down so that he could speak quietly.

‘I’m enjoying it. I said I’d do anything and I meant it.’

For a moment something flickered in his eyes. ‘Anything at all?’

‘What do you think?’

‘I wish I knew what to think.’

From nearby, Joe, always keeping watch, complained, ‘You both look too serious. Say something to each other.’

‘You’re treading on my foot,’ Charlene told Travis fervently.

‘Something nice,’ Joe corrected.

‘You’re the most handsome man in the world,’ she declared.

‘Now you’re just making him laugh,’ Joe protested.

‘What do you expect?’ Travis demanded, grinning. ‘How can anyone keep a straight face like this?’

Some journalists and photographers appeared.

‘Hey, Travis, tell us about your lady. All Los Angeles is talking about her.’

‘Then you don’t need me to tell you,’ he said in a voice that sounded slightly uneasy.

She wondered if he feared to offend her by saying too much and was sure of it when he patted her hand, murmuring, ‘Don’t worry.’

‘Aw, c’mon. Just a quote. How did you meet?’

‘We bumped into each other in the studio,’ she said. ‘I’d lost my way and he…he found it for me.’ She gave a mysterious smile. ‘Maybe. Now, I think that’s all, don’t you?’

As they resumed their walk she said, ‘I hope you don’t think I said too much.’

‘That was brilliant!’ Joe spluttered. ‘The perfect story. You’re really good at this, isn’t she, Travis?’

‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘She is.’ He glanced over his shoulder at the paparazzi still in pursuit and said in a harassed voice, ‘Don’t they ever give up?’

‘They’re waiting for you to kiss her,’ Joe informed him. ‘Get on with it.’

He slid quickly away lest he be caught in the picture.

‘He’s right,’ Travis said.

‘Of course he is.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘We have to be professional,’ she assured him.

The sun was beginning to set, throwing a golden glow over the sand and making the water glitter. As if united by the same thought, they strolled a little way into the sea and paused, gazing into each other’s faces.

Gently he pushed the hair back from her face.

‘Time to be professional,’ he said, and lowered his mouth.

She’d thought herself braced against the impact but knew instantly that nothing could have guarded her from the feel of his lips. Gentle, hesitant, then firm, pleading, enticing, commanding.

It was all an act, she reminded herself wildly-mostly on the surface to fool the cameramen, and just a little between them to provoke her into the right reaction. Nothing for real.

Remember that!

But it was hard to remember while she was held so strongly against his chest, his bare legs against hers, his arm behind her head, holding her close.

Feelings chased each other through her in confusing whirls. Pleasure, excitement, a feeling that life had opened up new possibilities. But also fear, because she knew she was on the verge of losing control. She wanted him more-and more-and any moment now-

‘That’s it, gentlemen,’ came Joe’s voice out of the mists. ‘Mr Falcon just wanted a pleasant day, without you invading his privacy. Time you went.’

Nobody was fooled but they had what they wanted, and they began to drift away.

‘Are you all right?’ Travis asked softly.

‘Yes, I…I’m all right.’

‘I’m sorry about this. It’s not what you signed up for.’

‘Everything’s fine. I’m not going to make trouble, I promise you. Sensible and level headed. That’s what we agreed, and that’s what I’m giving you.’

He hesitated a moment, as though something had taken him by surprise. But then he gently released her, saying, ‘Of course. I know you always keep your word. It’s time we were going home.’

Now they would be alone and something more might happen between them, she thought happily. But Joe intervened like an awkward demon, announcing that he’d booked a table for them at one of the city’s most glamorous restaurants.

So the performance continued that evening under glittering chandeliers. They talked but it meant nothing. Charlene had a sense that he was keeping slightly distant, as though wary after the day’s events. She could be patient. Perhaps when they got home he would speak more freely.

But at last he closed his eyes and said, ‘I think I’ve had too much to drink. We should get home before I have an embarrassing collapse.’

He left with his arm around her shoulders, murmuring, ‘You don’t mind propping me up, do you?’

She patted his hand. ‘It’s what I’m here for,’ she said tenderly.

Charlene looked forward to taking him home, seeing him warm and comfortable, even perhaps happy. That was really all she asked. That he should be happy.

There was no hint then of what was to come, and how it would devastate him.

AS SOON as they reached home Travis put on the television, as he always did, to catch up with the news. Almost at once he tensed, staring at the screen.

‘Isn’t that-?’ Charlene gasped.

‘That’s my father,’ he confirmed, turning up the sound.

‘…people who remember Amos Falcon from the old days are intrigued to see him in action again, and this conference in New York…’

Dazed, Travis sat down on the sofa, his eyes fixed on the screen. Charlene sat beside him, trying to imagine how this would be affecting him.

It seemed that Amos Falcon had been in New York for three days, during which time he had attended meetings and socialised with men as wealthy as himself. The only thing he hadn’t done was contact his son in Los Angeles.

Suddenly she felt Travis grow even more tense. Another man had appeared on the screen. He was in his thirties, had a facial resemblance to Amos and seemed on the best of terms with him.

‘…his son, Darius Falcon, who once seemed to have withdrawn from the world of finance, but who’ll be joining his father in this new opportunity…’

The item ended. Travis sat frozen.

‘He’s in New York,’ he murmured. ‘What time is it there?’

‘Three hours ahead of us,’ Charlene said. ‘He should be in bed by now.’

‘A good time to call him, then. No, wait.’

He began clicking buttons on his cellphone, looking for a message, Charlene thought. But there was nothing.

‘They didn’t say where he was staying,’ she said. ‘So where could you call him? Perhaps someone in his home would know. If you called-’

‘No!’ Travis interrupted her violently. ‘Never.’

Of course he wasn’t going to advertise that his father had ignored him, Charlene thought, blaming herself for thoughtlessness.

Travis named a hotel. ‘He’s always stayed there in the past.’

He dialled a number. Charlene moved quietly away. She had a horrible fear of what was about to happen, and knew he would hate anyone to see it.

But she left her bedroom door open and heard him say, ‘Fine, when he comes in would you give him a message? I’ll give you my home number and my cellphone. Any time will do, night or day.’

He hung up and turned to see her standing in the door.

‘Goodnight,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a long, tiring day.’

His message was plain. He’d spoken often of their closeness and his reliance on her, yet she could not help him now.

Quietly she closed the door.

Twice more during the night she rose and looked out discreetly. He was still there, silent and motionless. Never once did the phone ring.

There could be a simple answer. Amos might have stayed out overnight, or returned late and noted the message for later. The call would come. Surely it must.

Over breakfast she asked for the latest news, not revealing how much she knew.

‘I fell asleep,’ Travis said indifferently. ‘If the phone rang I might not have heard it.’

Her heart was heavy as she saw him off to work. Instinct warned her to fear the worst. She knew of Travis’s feeling of isolation, of being shut out from the heart of the family. He was obsessively aware of his father’s indifference to him, bordering on contempt. Now she saw the reality.

Amos had come to the country where his son lived but hadn’t contacted him, or even told him in advance. When Travis reached out he’d made no response. And Travis had been forced to watch him with brother Darius, the favoured son, as he himself would never be.

But Amos would call. He must. He would probably use the cellphone and contact Travis at the studio. But just in case he dialled the landline she would stay in all day.

Hours went past in silence. In the early afternoon the phone rang and she seized it up.

‘It’s me,’ said Travis’s voice. ‘Have there been any phone calls?’

‘No.’

‘I see. All right. I’ll see you tonight.’

He came home early, questioned her with a look, and shrugged when she shook her head. He settled on the sofa, watching television news, seeking further information about Amos. But there was nothing.

She brought him some coffee. ‘You look tired-’

The phone rang.

Their eyes met, sharing the same brilliant hope. He grabbed the phone.

‘Hello? Father! Good to hear from you. I heard you were over here. Maybe we could meet. I can get a couple of days off to fly to New York-what’s that? Oh, I see. Well, in that case-’

Curse Amos Falcon, she thought wildly. Curse him for daring to hurt Travis.

It broke her heart to see Travis’s face as hope died from it, leaving behind a dismal nothing.

The phone call ended. He stayed sitting on the sofa as though too weary ever to move again.

‘What happened?’ she asked, going to sit beside him.

‘He’s on his way back to Monte Carlo,’ Travis said in a blank voice. ‘He called me from the airport.’

‘Damn him!’

He shrugged. ‘I mean nothing to him. Why should he pretend otherwise? Right, that’s it. Time to be realistic. I think I’ll go out. Don’t wait up!’

‘Can’t I come with you?’

‘No, it won’t be the sort of evening that you’d enjoy.’

‘Hey, stop there! Be careful. If you end up in a nightclub with a floozie it’ll do you more damage than you could cope with.’

‘No women, I promise, just-’

‘Just too much to drink, huh?’

‘Maybe just a little.’