Beaumont Brides Collection (83 page)

‘You really think I’m that shallow?’

‘I think that’s about as close to ordinary life as you’re ever likely to come. Ask Claudia what it takes to become a real success, Mel. Your sister sweated her socks off to get where she is but she has no illusions, she knows that the theatre is a looking-glass world where it takes all the running you can do to stay in the same place. If you want to actually get somewhere you have to work at least twice as hard as that.’

‘I’m not running away from hard work. I’m refusing to repeat myself endlessly until I start to believe that’s all I can do.’

‘Really? Well you’re in the fortunate position of being able to take that line. You’ve been working for ten years and your clever uncle has invested all the money you’ve earned so that you can afford to be picky. Perhaps that’s your real problem. You’ve never had to struggle or call on any deep reserves of strength to see you through months, years even without a decent part. You’re like an oyster without the grit, Mel, a soft-centred chocolate, a little treat that slides down without any effort. Maybe you should go away and grow up a bit. But you won’t do it lying on beach, contemplating your navel.’

Mel had been holding her feelings in check for weeks. Trying not to show her unhappiness because she knew she was being unfair to her family. She knew her feelings were unreasonable. It had been her mother’s decision to stay away from Edward and he’d suffered every bit as much as she had. But that didn’t make them any less real and Trudy’s scathing attack was the final straw.

‘You think not knowing who your father is until you’re nineteen years old is easy? You think working on a soap opera day in and day out and still getting good school grades is easy?’ She placed her hands flat on the desk and looked her agent straight in the face. ‘You think sitting and watching your mother die is easy? You’ve seen me this year with my father and Claudia and Fizz, playing happy families at first nights and weddings and christenings. But don’t think you know me, because you don’t.’ She straightened, gathered her jacket and bag and paused in the doorway just long enough to say, ‘Don’t call me, Trudy, when I’m ready to start playing at make-believe again I’ll call you.’

As the door slammed behind her Trudy Morgan stared for a moment and then gave a hoot of laughter.

She would never have believed Melanie had it in her. Still chuckling she crossed to the window. Would the girl still be travelling on a head a steam by the time she reached the square. Or would she have had time to calm down?

*****

Steaming. Seeing through a red mist, positively vibrating with rage, her heart alone would have made redundant the entire timpani section of an orchestra. Melanie’s whole body was focused on her one purpose, to catch the first available flight to Sydney where she was the hometown girl made good that the crowds turned out for and not just another Beaumont.

And a second-class, inferior sort of Beaumont at that.

She didn’t even see the white-faced mime artist do a classic double take. Nor did she hear the ripple of laughter from his audience.

Swept along on a tide of blistering rage, her angry momentum carried her through the heavy glass door of the travel agent’s office with such speed that the man approaching it from the other side was forced to step back sharply to escape the abrupt and painful rearrangement of his profile. And still she was oblivious to her surroundings until, on a reflex honed by an acute sense of self-preservation, the man grabbed her shoulders to prevent her from cannoning into him.

‘Hey, there, slow down.’ The abrupt jolt almost stunned her, so deep had she been in her fury, so intent in her purpose. Melanie had never been so angry, had no idea that it was possible to feel that way and she raised her hand to her forehead, dazed by the suddenness with which she had been wrenched out of her temper. ‘Are you all right?’

All right? Of all the stupid... Of course she wasn’t all right! Then she took a deep shuddering breath. It wasn’t this man’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It would have been so much simpler if it were.

‘I’m sorry,’ she began. ‘I’m afraid I wasn’t looking...’ And then she was. Looking straight up into a pair of steel grey eyes that were regarding her with more than a touch of impatience. His voice too, she realized, had been more irritated than concerned. And with awareness came the realization that his hands were still clamped to her shoulders. The man clearly thought that if he didn’t hold on her she might collapse at his feet. And his expression left her in no doubt that he didn’t want the bother of picking her up again. About par for the day, in fact. She took a short breath and very firmly stepped back. ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated.

And then one of the girls who worked in the office was at his side. ‘Is everything all right, Mr Wolfe?’ she asked. ‘Are you hurt?’

His eyes never left Melanie’s face and she gave another little gasp as something seemed to heat in them, something intense, something she thought, almost desperate. Then, whatever it was had been obliterated and his eyes were as cold as steel.

‘I’m fine. I can’t say the same for this young woman.’ He stared at her for a moment longer, then eased his shoulders in a movement so slight that it could scarcely to be classed as a shrug. ‘You’d better slow down before you hurt yourself. Or someone else,’ he said. Then he nodded briefly to the girl at Melanie’s side.

‘I’ll call back for the tickets in about twenty minutes.’

Melanie shivered slightly, but couldn’t have said whether it was the suddenness with which he had jolted her from her temper, or the strange impact of the man’s eyes that made her feel as if she had been touched by a force of nature. A damped down, hidden force. Like a slumbering volcano.

‘If you’d like to come and sit down, one of our assistants will help you.’ Melanie had quite forgotten the girl at her elbow, but now as she looked round the office she discovered herself to be the single point on which every gaze was fixed.

‘What? Oh, no. No. It’s all right.’ She was already backing out of the office as fast as her slightly shaky legs would carry her. ‘I think I’d better... That is, I need to think...’ She stopped, took a steadying breath. ‘I’ll come back later.’ Maybe. The girl’s concern was palpable and Melanie did her best to produce a reassuring smile. ‘I think I need a few minutes to gather my thoughts. I’ll go and have some coffee.’

‘Would you like to take some brochures with you?’

‘Oh, no. Thanks. I know where I’m going.’

Or did she? Because despite what she had told Trudy, she was rushing straight back to Oz and the comfort of old friends. Going back not forward. But as the adrenalin rush evaporated from her system she certainly felt an urgent need to sit down somewhere quiet to try and make sense of what she was doing.

Sense was not going out of its way to co-operate. As she crossed the square to a wine bar, this time travelling at considerably less than the speed of light, she saw the exquisite double take with which the mime artist swivelled the attention of his audience towards her. Her momentum faltered slightly, but she kept on walking.

*****

Before she had gone more than a few yards there was a tap on her shoulder. She swung round determined to tell the man to find someone else to pick on, but there was no one there. A tap on her other shoulder and still no one.

The crowd was laughing quite openly now, but she wasn’t in the mood to play straight man to a clown. She took a deep breath and for a moment she remained perfectly still before turning to ask him, very politely, to leave her alone. But when she came face to face with him, he was standing with his hand over his heart, every line of his body exquisitely portraying the bashful little man in love with a beautiful girl. In spite of everything, she smiled.

That was a mistake. Encouraged, he immediately responded by producing an outrageous daisy from thin air, presenting it to her with a ground-scraping bow.

Three floors above the square, Trudy shook her head. The boy was superb. Graceful, funny, pathetic in turn as he wooed Melanie with his art. She was still smiling as she turned back to her desk and pressed the intercom on her desk.

‘Get me Claudia Beaumont, will you, Lisa?’

A few moments later the telephone rang. ‘Trudy?’ Claudia’s voice floated seductively from the receiver. ‘How did it go?’

‘Not well. She wouldn’t even discuss the sitcom. I’m afraid it’s going to take more than that to keep her in England.’

‘Damn. Luke was certain that a new challenge would keep her here. Any ideas?’

‘Not one. Unless you know of anyone smitten enough with the child to underwrite her in A Doll’s House.’

‘You’re kidding.’

‘I wish I was.’ Claudia let out a long slow whistle. ‘Precisely. I gave her rather a hard time I’m afraid.’

‘Poor Melanie.’

‘She doesn’t need your sympathy, darling, she gave me an equally rough ride and if she was poor there wouldn’t be a problem, she wouldn’t be able to turn this down. I’m really worried about her going back to Australia. They adore her there and they’d give anything to get her to stay. They’ll spoil her rotten, tell her how wonderful she is and before you know it she’ll be back in the soaps. Can’t Luke do something?’

‘What? She’s an adult. If she wants to take a year off and disappear there isn’t a thing we can do about it.

‘It seems out of character. She’s a family girl, and she’s been over-protected. When I think of the way you behaved at her age.’

Claudia pulled a face at the telephone. ‘You think there’s something more than a holiday behind this?’

‘Maybe. But she’s worked hard for years in television,’ Trudy pointed out. ‘It could be that she’s just lost the taste for it. What does Edward think?’

‘He doesn’t know. He’d already left on his honeymoon - but I know it’ll break his heart if she drifts away.’

‘Will it? He’s got a new wife to keep him happy. And a new step-daughter.’

‘Heather? Puh-lease!’ Claudia paused. ‘Oh, dear God. You don’t think that’s behind this sudden need to get away? I would have said that Melanie didn’t have a jealous bone in her body.’

‘And I would agree you. But on reflection it is possible that it’s the new Mrs Beaumont who’s brought on this attack of the sulks. The papers have made a great deal of fuss about the wedding. How Edward has finally got over the death of the precious Elaine.’

‘Oh, don’t. It’s been a nightmare. If people only knew.’

‘Well they don’t. They don’t know that Edward loathed Elaine, or that she made his life a living hell and they don’t know that he loved Melanie’s mother. It must have hurt. Happy ever after would have seen her mother in Diana’s place.’

‘But her mother is-’

‘Dead.’ Trudy paused. ‘Forgotten?’ she enquired, not very kindly.

‘Of course not! Surely she can’t think. Oh, Trudy, what on earth can we do?’

‘Nothing. Or at least nothing that isn’t weeks too late. Isn’t there a man around to distract her?’

‘A man?’ Claudia cocked an errant brow at the telephone. ‘Don’t let the thought police hear you suggesting something so politically incorrect.’

‘This is an emergency, Claudia. It’s the best I can come with at a moment’s notice.’

‘Well Andy Gilbert is still carrying a torch -’

‘Good grief, Claudia, I said a man. Someone capable of driving every other thought out of her head. If he hasn’t managed to do that by now he’s not going to be any use to us. What this situation needs is a midnight lover.’

‘A midnight lover?’

‘The kind of man that dreams are made of, darling. Surely I don’t have to spell it out to you? You married one.’

Claudia laughed softly. ‘If she finds someone like Mac you might never get her back, Trudy.’

‘I’ll take that risk.’

‘Then I’ll put my mind to it, although I have to warn you, men in that category are rarer than hen’s teeth. I’m sure Dad could sort this out in a moment if he were here.’

‘How long are the honeymooners planning to be away?’

‘Who knows? Luke and Mac chartered them a yacht in the West Indies as a joint wedding present. Neither of them have any commitments to rush back for so they’ve decided to take their time, go where they like, do as they please.’

‘Some people have all the luck. Claudia… You’ve worked with Mel, how good is she? Really?’

Claudia laughed. ‘You’re her agent, Trudy, why are you asking me?’

‘Because I want to know.’

There was small silence and then Claudia said, ‘Melanie is better than anybody will ever give her credit for, Trudy, better than she probably realizes herself. The trouble is she makes it look so easy that people assume she’s not working at it, that she’s just being herself.’

Trudy grimaced. ‘That,’ she said, ‘explains a lot.’

*****

Melanie laughed. She knew how it was done but the sponge flower compressed in the clown’s palm expanded so swiftly that it seemed to appear from nowhere. But she still wasn’t going to be sucked into his act for the amusement of the crowd.

She declined the flower with a quick shake of the head and stepped around him. The crowd, with one voice went, “Ahhhh ...”

It was almost irresistible. Almost. But as she turned away he was there again. He was not tall. She was five feet seven in her thickest woolly socks and this man barely topped her, yet he was holding the crowd that had gathered to watch him in the palm of his hand with the power of his presence.