Chapter 4

THE AFTERNOON TURNED out to be even more hectic than the morning as Sandy ran around the office delivering faxes and phone messages, collected the outgoing mail and tried to keep on top of everything else. The chat with Michael had buoyed her confidence so much that she was having no problem talking to anyone else now, not even Bertie, whom she’d found quite intimidating at first. But she had few thoughts for anyone other than Michael. She was totally entranced, for she’d never dreamed she’d find it so easy to chat with someone like him. He wasn’t like a boss at all, in fact none of the agents were, but there was something different about Michael, something even more down to earth and easier to deal with than the others. She suspected that it was to do with him being working class too, like her, even though he had gone to Oxford later.

But no, it went deeper than that. She didn’t want to start kidding herself here, but she hadn’t been able to help noticing the way he looked at her, nor how keen he had been to talk to her. Blimey, he had asked her enough times, had even ended up coming in to see her, which couldn’t be normal for a man in his position. No, she definitely reckoned he fancied her and God knew she fancied him. After all, looking like him, how could anyone not?

She was so engrossed in her fantasy world that, had the lift doors not opened around five o’clock to deliver one of the most beautiful women she had ever laid eyes on, she might actually have ended up persuading herself it was all an attainable dream. But just one look at the stunning creature who was at least six feet tall, with the most gorgeous long blonde hair, exquisite slanting eyes and a smile that was just too lovely for words, was enough to crush Sandy’s hopes to dust and make her want to dash across the office to shove the woman back in the lift before Michael ever set eyes on her. Then, realizing it was Michael the woman was smiling at, she felt sick inside, and watched miserably from her office as he slipped an arm around the woman’s shoulders and walked with her down the steps into the well.

‘Ah, Janey!’ Jodi cried jumping up from her chair and going to the door. ‘Bobby Mack’s been trying to get hold of you. Have you got your mobile turned off?’

‘The battery’s dead,’ Janey answered. ‘Did he say where I could reach him?’

By now Janey and Michael were coming up the steps towards Jodi’s and Sandy’s office. ‘He’s at Wembley,’ Jodi said. ‘Michael, the contracts guy at Vargo is holding on the line for you.’

‘OK, I’ll take it in my office,’ he said. ‘Don’t forget to introduce Janey to Sandy.’

Sitting at her desk, Sandy’s heart swelled to think he hadn’t forgotten her, even though the last person she wanted to meet was his bloody girlfriend.

Her face was stiff and her voice stilted as Jodi introduced them, and not even when Jodi explained that Janey was one of the agents did Sandy feel herself thawing. She could sense Janey’s confusion at her hostility and even knew the point at which Janey put her manner down to shyness, but all the time, deep down inside Sandy wanted to scratch the woman’s eyes out because even if she was an agent she was probably still Michael’s girlfriend.

‘What, Janey?’ Jodi laughed after Janey had gone and Sandy had asked point-blank if she was right. ‘If she is then it’s news to me,’ Jodi said. ‘It’ll be news to Bobby Mack too, who Janey’s been living with for the past eight and a half years.’

Sandy lowered her eyes. To be told that Janey was living with someone else made her feel better, but not much, for seeing her walk into the office like that, so willowy and elegant and heart-stoppingly lovely, had shown Sandy just how ridiculous she was even to be thinking the way she had about Michael.

‘They’ve got a couple of kids,’ Jodi was saying while sorting through the paperwork in front of her. ‘Actually, they’re Bobby’s kids. Janey took them on when she and Bobby moved in together. Their mother died in a car crash. They were so young when it happened I don’t expect they even remember her now. Sad, isn’t it? But Janey’s a great mum. She used to be a model. Did all the catwalks in Paris and Milan. Most of her clients are models who want to be actors. A couple have made it, actually, like Beena Fairbanks, she plays the sidekick in Lampson PI, I expect you’ve seen her, and Gary Bruce, he’s just got a regular part on The Bill.’

‘Does Michael have a girlfriend?’ Sandy asked, the words coming before she could stop them.

Jodi’s pause was momentary as her eyes flicked towards Sandy, then returned to what she was doing.

Embarrassed, Sandy looked out to where the two booking assistants were putting on their coats ready to go home. She forced herself to laugh in the hope of lightening her question. ‘I’m sure someone like him must have lots of women after him,’ she said.

‘He does,’ Jodi confirmed. ‘All the time. The current one’s name is Kate Feather. She’s some kind of high roller with the European Parliament, but don’t ask me what. Class, beauty and brains. The woman makes me sick, or she would if I didn’t like her so much.’ She grimaced, then, tucking her fluffy dark hair behind her ears she said, ‘God knows how long she’ll last, though I have to say it seems to be going pretty strong right now.’ She glanced up as Shirley walked past the office, waved good-night, then went back to what she was doing.

‘He’ll drop her soon enough, though,’ she continued, ‘he always does.’ She looked at Sandy and gave a rueful smile. ‘You should see the state some of them get themselves into when he tells them it’s over,’ she said, ‘makes you wonder if they ever heard of pride. He tells them right at the start that it’s not going anywhere, the trouble is they never believe him. I mean, he goes out with them, you know takes them on dates and stuff; sometimes, if he’s getting on particularly well with one, he might take her to the boat he keeps in Cannes or to his house in the Caribbean, but none of them ever last very long.’ She sighed and shook her head.

‘God, the times women have rung up here, or even turned up in the lift, in a right mess because he’s not returning their calls or they’ve found out he’s seeing someone else. You can’t help feeling sorry for them, because every one of them thinks she’s the one who’s going to change him and make him settle down, and it comes as a real shock when they find out they’re wrong.’ She leaned forward and, resting her chin on her hand, gazed absently out at the darkening night.

‘I sometimes wonder if he ever will settle down,’ she said, almost to herself. ‘It’s been such a long time since Michelle, he must be over it by now, but …’ She shrugged and turned to Sandy. ‘You might remember it,’ she said. ‘It was in all the papers at the time. Michelle Rowe? Do you remember her?’

Sandy was frowning. ‘The name rings a bell,’ she said. ‘Oh, yes, I know, wasn’t she in that series about Bosnia? She played the mother who never found her kids.’

Jodi nodded. ‘That was her. Michael bought the book and commissioned the series specially for her. They made a bundle on that, I can tell you. Everyone did, it was so successful.’ She paused for a moment then went on, unprompted. ‘She was fresh out of drama school when Michael first met her,’ she said. ‘He saw her in a Sam Sheppard play at the Latchmere and signed her up that night.’ She chuckled. ‘Listen to me, signed her up! What he did was fall smack, bang in love with her. She did with him too. They were inseparable the two of them. I think they’d only been together a couple of weeks when she moved in with him. Of course, having Michael as a lover she could hardly go wrong, could she? But she had real talent as an actress, I mean she was good. Everyone thought so, even the critics. Did you see her in that film, Good-night to Ben Bower? God, she was brilliant. I cried buckets when she walked up to that grave. She got a BAFTA for that. She was nominated for Gone Without Trace, the series about Bosnia, but someone else got it, Jessica Pollinger, but that was a political decision and everyone knows the award should have been Michelle’s. Anyway, she and Michael were working together on a movie when she left. It was the first time Michael had gone into producing. It was something he’d always talked about doing, but he was so tied up with other things he just never got round to it. Then this script came up that was dead right for Michelle and she was so excited about it that Michael decided to go with it. He’d have been a brilliant producer, everyone says so. He still gets offers now, but he always turns them down.’

‘Why?’ Sandy asked.

Jodi’s lips flattened as she shook her head. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘It’s not something he ever talks about. All I know is when Michelle walked out he pulled the plug on the movie and has never mentioned it since.’

‘Why did she walk out?’ Sandy asked.

Jodi looked at her in surprise. ‘It was in all the papers,’ she said, ‘don’t you remember? She ended her relationship with Michael, gave up acting and went off to work for Save the Children, or some charity like that. It was the TV series that did it. She got so into the part and was so torn up by all the things that were happening to the women and children in Bosnia that she just had to do something to help. And her idea of doing something to help was to go over there and get right into it.’

Sandy was staring at her in amazement. Now that Jodi had reminded her she did remember the story, but what was having the biggest effect of all on her right now was the fact that she, Sandy Paull, was falling for the same man as Michelle Rowe – the Michelle Rowe – had gone out with. God, she could remember so well the way she and her sisters had devoured the story in the papers, and how everyone in the office had been talking about it too. It seemed so unreal, so beyond all her wildest dreams that she should be mixing with people like that. But she was, and now she had met Michael McCann Sandy couldn’t even begin to imagine how Michelle Rowe had brought herself to leave him, especially not for the reason she had. Not that Sandy didn’t care about children, but there were always envelopes to put money in, or pledges you could make on the telly, so why did anyone feel they had to give up a superstar career and the most fantastic man in the world to go and be an aid worker in some godforsaken part of the world? To Sandy it just didn’t make any sense.

‘How did Michael take it?’ she asked.

Again Jodi shook her head. ‘He was devastated,’ she answered. ‘Completely devastated. You see, they weren’t only planning to do the film, they were planning to get married too.’ She sighed. ‘He really loved that woman,’ she said softly. ‘I mean really loved her. And they were so good together. Always laughing and fooling about, here in the office or at parties, wherever they were. They were just made for each other.’ She paused as her mind wandered back through those times. ‘We didn’t see him for a month after she went,’ she said in the end. ‘He took off somewhere with Cavan, his brother. They went to his boat, I think. I never asked.’

‘Does he ever hear from her now?’ Sandy wondered.

‘Not that I know of,’ Jodi answered. ‘She tried to keep in touch at first, I think, but he never answered her letters. God only knows where she is now. I think she left Bosnia and went on somewhere else, but I don’t remember anyone ever saying where. We were all dead certain she’d come back once she’d got it out of her system, but it doesn’t look like she’s going to.’

They both looked round as a sudden commotion started up in the well and getting up went to see what was happening.

‘They’re mad,’ Jodi laughed, when they saw Zelda in a matching midnight blue head band and track suit, trying to push Michael off an exercise bike. ‘Completely mad.’

The others were all coming out of their offices and laughing as Zelda cuffed Michael round the ear and Craig launched into a hilarious Tour de France commentary to encourage Michael’s exhausting uphill pedal. The bike was outside Zelda’s office on the upper level, not far away, but Michael’s back was turned so Sandy couldn’t see his face.

Nevertheless, it felt strange to think of him as the man Jodi had just been talking about, the one who had been so broken up when his girlfriend left him that he’d never been seriously involved with anyone since. He must be over it by now, though, because like Jodi said it had happened at least three, maybe even four, years ago. It was just that he hadn’t met the right person since. That was all. Nothing to do with him still carrying a torch for Michelle Rowe.

‘Oh, there goes the phone,’ Jodi tutted, starting to turn back into the office.

‘It’s OK,’ Sandy said, ‘I’ll get it.’

‘Jodi, get the man a stretcher!’ Harry shouted.

As Jodi skipped off to join in the fun, Sandy went to answer the phone. ‘Hello, Michael McCann’s office,’ she said, reaching for her Post-its and pen.

‘Hi. It’s Kate,’ the voice at the other end said. ‘Is that Jodi?’

Sandy was silent for a moment as she realized this must be the Kate Jodi had mentioned, Michael’s current girlfriend. ‘Uh, no, it’s Sandy,’ she said.

‘Oh, I don’t think we’ve met,’ Kate said. ‘Are you new?’

‘I started today,’ Sandy answered.

‘Really? Then I hope it works out well for you. Is Michael there? I’m in a taxi, so we could get cut off any minute.’

Sandy was quiet again. Then, looking towards the empty doorway and feeling herself start to perspire she said, ‘No, I’m afraid Michael’s not here. Can I take a message?’

‘Yes. Tell him I’m pissed off he didn’t call me before I left earlier, but he can reach me at the Hotel Miramar after seven o’clock.’

‘If he rings in I’ll pass the message on,’ Sandy said and rang off just as Jodi came back through the door.

‘Why don’t you head off home now?’ Jodi suggested. ‘I’ve still got a few things to clear up here, but you must be shagged out by now, this being your first day and all.’

Sandy looked at her, then turned quickly away as her throat suddenly tightened and the hunger pangs in her stomach intensified to pain. Kate Feather, and what she had just done, was abruptly eclipsed by the terrible reality of her immediate plight. If only she could stay here for the night, at least then she wouldn’t have to worry about how she was going to get back the next day – and maybe, just maybe, someone had left some biscuits or crisps in their desk …

Not seeing what else she could do, she reached for her coat and started to put it on. The desperation in her heart was making her light-headed and strange inside. In a way it was like it was happening to someone else. Maybe that was something she should hang on to, maybe she should pretend this wasn’t her at all; if nothing else, it might help keep the horrible claws of hunger at bay. And it shouldn’t be hard to pretend, not when almost nothing about today had seemed real anyway. It had all been so different from what she had expected, so exciting and exhilarating, and she hadn’t ever felt so happy nor filled with eagerness and hope for the future. It was just too horrible to think that it was all over already, but if she didn’t find some money for her fare in the morning it would be. It seemed so ludicrous and petty that she couldn’t scrape enough together for a single, never mind a return ticket to Barking, but she couldn’t. She’d tried all weekend to think of a way round this, but still she hadn’t come up with any answers and time was running out. A voice inside her started to rage, though against what and at whom she didn’t really know. All she knew was that she’d never been in a state like this before; there had always been a sister to borrow from, or a brother to cadge a lift from, and never in her life had she had to go without food.

She looked at Jodi who was busy now on the phone. If only she could find the courage to ask. Five pounds would be enough. It would get her a McDonald’s tonight and a return ticket for tomorrow. But what did she do after that? Who was she going to borrow five pounds from next?

Her eyes fell to Jodi’s bag sitting open on the floor beside her desk. It would be so easy to knock something over, go down to retrieve it and take the purse while she was there. She had never stolen anything in her life, but she had never been this desperate or hungry in her life.

Feeling sick with shame that she had even considered it, she tore her eyes from the bag, picked up her own and started for the door. She was going to have to think of something, though, because she just couldn’t bear the idea of never coming back here now. She belonged here, it was where she was meant to be. These people were her new family and already she was making plans for how she was going to work her way up so she could become someone Michael would be proud to love.

She glanced along the upper circle and for a moment toyed with the idea of talking to Zelda, but Michael was probably with her and Sandy would rather die than have him know what a predicament she was in.

She rode down in the lift with Harry and Thea. They were asking how she had enjoyed her first day and if she thought she could put up with them any more. Sandy laughed and told them she would try, while wanting to cry. When they reached the lobby she got out while the others continued down to the car-park.

Her journey home passed in a blur of hunger and despair, as the crowds whizzed by on their way home to families and hot food on the table. They would probably be shocked if they knew what a state she was in, because she certainly didn’t look destitute – not yet, anyway. Those she noticed the most were the lonely, bedraggled figures on station platforms or sitting huddled in shop doorways, begging. At least she had a roof over her head, but that still didn’t provide her with something to eat and how long was the roof going to last if she couldn’t keep up with her job?

It was just before eight when finally she let herself into the cold, cheerless little room on the first floor of what might once have been a fairly grand house. There were four more doors on the landing, two to other bedsits, one to the toilet and another to a shower room with cracked and stained tiles and a mouldy plastic curtain.

Closing the door behind her she didn’t bother to flick on the light as she covered her face with her hands and started to cry. She’d spent all weekend shut in this room crying, as she tried to think what to do – it had changed nothing then and it was going to change nothing now. But she couldn’t stop. She was so hungry and lonely that she just didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t even go home because she didn’t have the money for a ticket.

Tears streamed down her face as her breath caught on the terrible fear welling inside her. Her body was stiff with cold. Her head throbbed and her stomach was growling for food. She wondered if she was going to starve to death here in this horrid little room with its chipped sink and water heater in one corner, single bed with no sheets or blankets in another and a damp, musty old cupboard where her clothes were hanging in the other. She thought about Michael and her tears grew thick with shame at the way she had sat at her desk day-dreaming about a fairy-tale romance and story-book rise in her career, when this was the reality of her life. What a miserable, loathsome little fool she was to think that a man like Michael McCann would even consider having someone like her in his life. And what the hell had made her lie like that to his girlfriend, when she was sure to get found out and was probably never going to see him again anyway, so what was the point in trying to break up his relationship?

She pressed her hands to her face, seething and sobbing with fury and frustration. She hated it here; she hated the traffic that roared across the flyover outside her window; she hated the wallpaper that was peeling off the walls; she hated the stripes of light across the floor from the Venetian blinds, the electric rings caked with other people’s food, the paint-stained carpet, the neighbours who ignored her and the mattress on which she had to lie huddled in her coat for warmth. But most of all she hated herself for being so stupid as to have thought she could come to London on seven hundred and fifty-three pounds and survive.

Hearing the main door downstairs slam closed, she sank to her knees and sobbed as though her heart would break. Another door slammed and she heard someone moving about in the room below. It was probably the woman she’d seen coming out of there on Saturday, the one who had said hello and smiled as she passed. The thought of a friendly face made her cry even harder. Why the hell hadn’t she thought to share a flat with someone, rather than be here on her own like this? If she had flatmates she might have friends and someone to borrow money from. But it was too late even to go looking for somewhere to share now, for she’d given all her money to the landlord of this miserable dump.

By the time she finally dragged herself over to the bed her face was ravaged by despair and her whole body was juddering with the aftermath of tears. She felt weak and cold, and so hungry she couldn’t bear it, but she was a little calmer now, too exhausted perhaps to care much any more. But she did care. She loved her job and the people who worked there, and she wanted to go back more than she had ever wanted anything in her life. So somehow she was going to have to find a way out of this mess, because if she didn’t she really was going to end up begging in doorways or starving to death. And now she’d met Michael and seen what her life could be like, she just couldn’t let that happen.

‘God, is it that time already?’ Michael said, looking at his watch as Zelda walked into his office and sank her ample body into the sofa.

‘No, it was that time an hour ago,’ she responded, dusting something out of her substantial cleavage and putting her feet up on the coffee table.

Michael dropped his pen and stretched. ‘Jodi still here?’ He yawned, only just noticing that it was pitch dark in the well.

Zelda nodded and enjoyed a yawn of her own. ‘She’s copying the final drafts for Vic and Ally,’ she answered. ‘We’ll bike them over to the National first thing tomorrow. What was that?’ she said cocking an ear. ‘A gin? Och, laddie, you know what it takes to make an old lady happy.’

‘Coming right up.’ Michael laughed, getting to his feet. ‘By the way, I spoke to Alex Drew just now,’ he said, walking round his desk to the bar he kept in the bottom of the bookcase. ‘Gloria’s got one tit bigger than the other he tells me.’

Zelda bubbled with laughter. ‘Oh dear,’ she said, tucking a wisp of her cherry-red hair behind one ear. ‘No wonder she didn’t want to take off her top. Still, the main thing is she fulfilled her contract and I’m sure with the kind of technology they’ve got today they’ll manage to straighten things out in the edit.’

Laughing, Michael passed her a drink, then turned back to fix one for himself. ‘Brandy and coke?’ he said to Jodi as she came in the door.

‘Does the Queen fart?’ she responded, collapsing beside Zelda on the sofa.

‘Does she?’ Zelda asked, turning to look at her.

‘Is anyone else still here?’ Michael said.

‘Everyone else went home hours ago,’ Jodi told him. ‘God, my feet are killing me,’ and kicking off her boots she put her feet up next to Zelda’s. ‘What’s that perfume you’re wearing, Zelda?’ she said. ‘It smells like a toilet.’

‘Dettol,’ Zelda answered. ‘I cut my hand on that blasted exercise bike. I’m sending it back, by the way, it goes too fast. Michael, are you going to the screening of Miraculous tomorrow night?’

‘I don’t know, am I, Jodi?’ he asked, handing her a drink.

‘It’s in the diary, but it’s clashing with something else. Can’t remember what, off the top of my head.’

‘Well, if you are,’ Zelda said as Michael carried a Scotch on the rocks back to his chair, ‘can you take your mother? I promised I would, but I’ve got to fly up to Manchester tomorrow to see Pru Duffield.’

‘No problem,’ he said. ‘Did Kate ring, by the way?’ he said to Jodi.

Jodi shook her head. ‘I told you, you had to call her before one o’clock or she was on her way to Brussells.’

‘She’s in Brussells?’ he said.

Jodi nodded.

He grinned. ‘An evening at home on my own,’ he said. ‘I can’t remember the last time.’

Jodi looked at him in amazement. ‘It’s nearly nine o’clock, Michael,’ she said. ‘The evening’s already over. So shall we get on with this?’

Michael leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. ‘So,’ he said, stifling a yawn, ‘what did you think of Zelda’s little lame duck?’

Zelda blinked and took a large mouthful of gin.

‘Actually, I quite liked her,’ Jodi answered.

‘Why do you sound so surprised?’ Zelda objected.

‘Well you’ve got to admit, she’s a bit weird,’ Jodi responded.

‘She’s not weird at all. She’s just shy.’

‘Weird,’ Jodi insisted. ‘And OK, shy. But given a chance, she could probably turn out all right, despite the queer accent. She’s certainly not as thick as some we’ve had. She’s got a mega-crush on you, by the way.’

Michael’s eyebrows went up.

Jodi chuckled. ‘Look at him, pretending he didn’t notice,’ she said to Zelda. ‘Honestly, Michael, you’re easier to see through than Sharon Stone’s knickers.’

Michael looked at Zelda. ‘Where does she get this stuff?’ he asked.

Zelda blinked. ‘You, I expect,’ she answered. ‘And speaking of …’

‘Before we get off the subject, there’s something I should mention,’ Jodi interrupted. ‘I tried calling the numbers Sandy gave me earlier, you know, to check out if they were kosher …’

‘Why did you do that?’ Zelda protested. ‘She’s hardly a criminal …’

‘Zelda, there was a time in her life when Myra Hindley was just the girl next door,’ Jodi pointed out.

Zelda choked on her drink. ‘Surely you’re not suggesting …’

‘No,’ Jodi interrupted. ‘All I’m saying is there’s something about our Sandy that’s not quite adding up, or isn’t sitting quite right. So I just thought I’d try the numbers, see who answered.’

‘And?’ Michael prompted.

‘One just rang and rang, the other was a greengrocer in Ealing.’

Zelda looked sheepishly at Michael, whose amusement at the interest in Sandy was fading fast. ‘I told you, she was sent by the Lynne Masters agency,’ Zelda said defensively. ‘We’ve always had good people from them in the past.’

‘Zelda, the last time we took in one of your waifs we almost ended up in court,’ Michael reminded her.

‘Ah, yes, but the last one didn’t come through an agency,’ Zelda pointed out. ‘Sandy did, and I know Lynne Masters, she wouldn’t send us anyone duff.’

Michael looked at Jodi. ‘What do you think?’ he said.

Jodi shrugged. ‘I reckon we should give her a go,’ she answered. ‘I mean, she’s here now, so we might as well.’

‘OK,’ Michael said. ‘But the first sign of anything untoward, she’s out.’

‘God, he’s so hard,’ Jodi commented.

‘Ruthless,’ Zelda agreed.

‘Can I go home now?’ Jodi asked Michael.

‘Just try that other number again,’ he said. ‘The one that rang and rang.’

Jodi padded obediently off to her office, rooted out the phone number and dialled it again. This time she got a reply.

‘Well, it seems to be where she lives,’ she said, carrying her coat into Michael’s office where he and Zelda were by now talking about other things. ‘Sandy,’ she reminded them when they looked at her blankly.

‘Did you speak to her?’ Zelda asked.

Jodi shook her head. ‘A woman answered and said yes, Sandy Paull lived there, but it wasn’t convenient for her to come to the phone right now.’

Michael and Zelda looked at each other. ‘He thinks that’s sinister,’ Zelda said to Jodi.

‘Don’t you?’ he asked.

‘She might have been in the bath,’ Zelda pointed out.

Michael shrugged. ‘Did you say it was you calling?’ he asked Jodi.

‘Yep,’ she replied, ‘and the message I got back was that Sandy might not be able to make it until lunch-time tomorrow, but that we weren’t to worry she would definitely be coming.’

Michael looked from Zelda to Jodi and back again.

Jodi had seen that look before. ‘Duck,’ she advised Zelda.

Michael’s face was deadly serious. ‘If she turns out to be a plant from another agency,’ he said, ‘a thief, a stooge from the press, or God forbid someone from Ted Forgon, then I’m warning you now, heads will roll,’ and getting to his feet, he took his coat from the stand, picked up his briefcase and walked out of the room.