Welcome to the Real World (32 page)

T
he ceremony seemed to go on for an interminable amount of time. It couldn't pass quickly enough for Evanand not for the reasons that he'd already logged. All he wanted to do was get through this and then find Fern. He'd had no idea that she would be here today, and he knew that was why Rupert had decided on keeping the identity of the opening singer a secret from him. The way that Lana was smirking smugly at him seemed to indicate that she was in on the secret, too. Plus there was no way that she'd leave something like that to chance after everything else had been organised with such military precision. Just wait, he'd have a word with the scheming pair later even though he was overjoyed that they'd brought Fern back into his life. They must have known that he was going through agonies without her but was too damn stubborn to be able to fix it for himself. Sometimes it paid to have good friends on board.

Evan did his duty with the rings for Lana and her new husband, Christophe Vouray, an up-and-coming tenor from Paris with whom Evan had sung a few times in the past. And, it was true to say that he was honoured that the couple had chosen him to be Christophe's best man even though her fiance was aware that Evan and Lana had history. Lana looked ecstatic with joy, Christophe, too. For now. It had been a short and stormy courtship that, Evan suspected, would be followed by an equally short and stormy marriage. With two such huge egos circling in close proximity, their married life would be like the Clash of the Titans. It would take a special kind of man to handle Lana Rosina on a permanent basis, as Evan knew all too well. He'd tried, albeit briefly and with a certain amount of halfheartedness. Still, it was churlish to be thinking negative thoughts at their wedding and, in his heart, he did wish them both the very best of luck.

The exchanging of the rings complete, Evan took to the stage while the register was signed by the happy couple and sang 'The Prayer' with a new verve in his voice. He added his own silent prayer that Fern would be waiting for him with open arms when this was all over. If she'd agreed to be here, then that surely meant she was considering a reconciliation.

Finally, the strains of the overture from the
The Marriage of Figaro
flooded the gardenthe opera on which Lana and Christophe met while performing together in Germanyand the important part of the proceedings was concluded.

Evan shook Christophe's hand and clapped him on the back.

Lana turned to him and kissed him on the cheek. 'Thank you, Evan, for all this,' she said, gesturing around the garden. 'It wouldn't have been the same without you.'

'Congratulations,' he said, and returned the kiss.

'I thought you and I might have made it this far' she shrugged 'once upon a time.'

'You're much better off with Christophe. He'll be more than a match for you.'

Lana laughed as she raised an eyebrow. 'Maybe it will be your turn next?'

'Maybe,' he said, and he certainly hoped so if he could slay his demons once and for all. 'I take it you knew that Fern would be here?'

'Of course,' Lana said. 'Now you can go and find her.'

'That's just what I had in mind.'

He kissed her again and, as Lana and Christophe made their way back down the aisle, accepting the congratulations of families and friends, he slipped away from the throng to go in search of Fern.

Rupert was pacing up and down on the terrace. He looked pale and was barking into his mobile phone while clutching a glass of champagne with the other hand. When he saw Evan, he terminated his conversation.

Evan took the steps up to the terrace two at a time, suddenly finding the energy that had been missing for so long. 'You old dog,' he said to Rupert as he approached him. 'I didn't know you were such a schemer.'

Rupert's eyes failed to meet his.

'She's good, isn't she?' Evan knew that he was grinning stupidly. 'I told you she was.'

'I signed her a few months ago,' Rupert admitted. 'She's something else.'

'You sly old bastard, why didn't you tell me?'

Rupert still avoided looking at him.

'Well?' Evan wanted to know. 'Where is she?'

Rupert shuffled from foot to foot like a schoolboy caught smoking by the headmaster.

Evan's mood darkened. 'Are there any more secrets that I need to know?'

His agent nibbled his lip nervously. 'I think I might have made a horrible mistake.'

'What? Why?' Evan looked around. 'Where's Fern?'

He saw Rupert gulp. 'She's left.'

Evan was taken aback. 'Already?' Perhaps he'd read this situation all wrong. 'What exactly have you been up to, Rupert? She did know that I was going to be here?'

'I might have forgotten to mention that.'

Evan lowered himself into a nearby chair. 'So she didn't want to see me?'

His agent pulled another terrible face. 'That might not be the entire problem.'

'She's not hooked up with that Carl guy?' He didn't think he could bear it if Fern was now with someone else.

'That doesn't quite cover it, either.'

'Then what?

'I think Fern thought that this was actually your wedding to Lana,' Rupert confessed. 'And I don't think I told her that it wasn't.'

'T
hat is possibly the most hare-brained plan I've ever heard.' Evan raked his hands through his hair. 'I ought to sack you for this cock-up.'

There was panic in Rupert's eyes. 'I'm sure we can sort something out.'

'How could you fail to tell her that it was Lana's wedding but not mine?'

'I didn't think she'd come if she knew you were here at all. You're both as stubborn as each other. But I didn't think she'd assume it was you getting married. Why would she think that?'

'For the same reason she assumed that I was engaged to Lana.'

'There seems to be a distinct lack of communication between you two, if you don't mind me saying.'

'Well.' Evan strode out into the street. 'We'd better follow her so that we
can
start talking. I need to get this ironed out once and for all.' He broke into a run and dashed to the front of his home while Rupert followed at a pained trot.

'What about the photographs?' his agent wanted to know. 'Lana will go spare.'

His agent, still muttering, picked up his stride in an attempt to keep pace.

'I've done enough for Lana,' Evan shouted back over his shoulder. 'Now I have to do what's right for me.'

A line of limos waited outside Evan's home, but there wasn't a chauffeur in sight. He paced along the pavement. 'Where are all the goddamn drivers?'

'I'll go and find one,' Rupert said and started to scuttle off.

'Don't you go anywhere,' Evan warned. He wrenched open the door of the nearest limoa stretch one that could hold about twenty people in comfort. 'Can you drive?'

Rupert looked at him in abject horror. 'Darling, I've lived in London all of my life. Why would I need to be able to drive?'

'Get in. Come on.' Evan slid into the driving seat and looked blankly at the controls.

Reluctantly Rupert got in beside him. 'I didn't know that you could drive.'

'It's been a while,' Evan said through clenched teeth as he looked at the array of dials and switches. How car dashboards had changed since then.

Rupert's hand shook as he buckled his seat belt. 'Exactly how long?'

'I don't know, Rupert.' And it was true. He'd been driven everywhere for as long as he could remember. Evan didn't think he'd been at the wheel of a car since he was a callow youth. 'For heaven's sake stop interrogating me and help. How do we get this damn thing started?'

'You turn the key,' Rupert pointed out.

Evan turned the key and the car lurched forward, smashing into the limo parked in front of them.

Rupert unbuckled his belt and started to get out.

'Stay where you are,' Evan ordered.

'It will be a lot quicker if I just go and find a driver. A qualified driver. One with a driving licence. One who won't get us killed.'

'How hard can this be? It must be like riding a bike. Give me a minute and it will all come back.'

Evan pressed the gas and the car lurched back again, this time smashing into the limo behind them.

Rupert put his head in his hands.

'I'm not used to the automatic gear shift,' Evan said. He stamped the accelerator again and lurched out into the street. 'See? Nothing to it.' And he smiled at his agent as they kangarooed down Fulton Street in pursuit of Fern.

E
ven though we arrive ahead of schedule, the plane is ready for us in no time and I board gratefully. This is the unmitigated joy of having your own private plane and not having to wait in the departure lounge for a scheduled flight with hordes of tourists. I could never have imagined in my lifetime that I would be experiencing such luxury. Hopefully, it will make up for the shortcomings in other areas of my life.

Within minutes of boarding we're already in the air for the short flight to Los Angeles. When we reach cruising height, the steward comes to offer us drinks. I choose some orange juice in the hope that it will quell my thumping headache. Carl orders a bottle of beer, and when it arrives the glass has been frozen and is so cold that he can barely hold it.

'What I wouldn't give for a nice warm pint of British beer,' he says.

I raise a smile. 'Do you think Ken the Landlord is missing us?'

'No. He'll be dining out on the story of your success for the rest of his life. He'll be the man who gave the world-famous Fern her first break.'

I laugh. 'I can just see the headlines now.'

Because Carl and I are the only passengers, we stretch out in our seats and I kick off my mules with a deep and heart-felt sigh. Carl takes my hand and toys with my fingers. 'Feeling okay now?'

'A bit better.'

'You did very well to cope back there,' Carl assures me.

'Did I?' I take a sip of my OJ. 'I feel terrible for snapping at Rupert.'

'It was a pretty stupid thing for him to do.'

'He's done so much for us,' I say. 'I should apologise to him.'

'And he should apologise to you for putting you in that situation.'

'Maybe he didn't realise how much I still felt...' My sentence peters out.

'For Evan?'

I nod. What else can I do?

'How do you feel now?'

'Stupid,' I say. 'I should move on with my life. So many things are finally starting to go our way. I should be counting my blessings.'
Not wasting time pining for someone I can't have,
I add silently. I go for a bit of overenthusiastic bluster. 'Look at all the great things that are happening for us. We're playing a major concert this evening in front of thousands of people. We should be so proud of what we've achieved.'

'And you've always got me,' Carl says. 'Even though you may not want me.'

'Oh, Carl,' I sigh. 'How could I ever manage without you? You're my rock.'

'Don't forget it,' he reminds me. 'Behind every successful woman is a faithful man in a dodgy denim jacket.'

'Thank you,' I say as I kiss his fingers to my lips. 'Thank you for being you.'

Carl looks out of the window. 'Do you still love him?'

'There's no point in having this discussion, Carl. It's over. That chapter of my life has ended. He's married. I've got to get over him. What else can I do?'

My friend looks into my eyes. 'You didn't say no.'

I didn't, did I? 'My mind's such a jumble right now,' I say honestly. 'Just be patient with me.'

Looking over Carl's shoulder, I watch as the city grows tiny in our wake. Somewhere back there, the celebrations for Evan's wedding will be in full swing. He and Lana will be laughing and all loved-up and I can't even stand the pain of thinking about that.

There's nothing else for me to doI just have to forget about Evan David. Move on. Put him right out of my mind. Right out of it. From now on my career will be my sole focus. Menparticularly opera singerswill come a paltry second to my single-minded pursuit of fame. I might have left my heart in San Francisco, but there's absolutely no need for me to leave my brain there, too.

E
van had lost count of how many people had honked their horn at him. Or how many times he'd gesticulated back. Rupert was slumped down in his seat, peering at the road through gaps in his fingers and uttering intermittent howls of terror.

'Shut up, Rup,' Evan said. 'We're nearly there.'

They were still careening their way to the airport. The kangarooing had subsided to a violent lurch, and Evan was almost managing to keep within the lines of the lanes on the highway. The hills of San Francisco had proved trickier. They'd bottomed the stretch limo three times and had hit two parked cars. Rupert had jumped out to put his business card under the windscreen wipers, so no doubt they'd be picking up the bills for repairs in due course. They looked like junkers, so maybe Evan would just buy the owners new cars to appease them.

'What time did you say this charity concert was?'

'She's due on in just a few hours. Timing is very tight.'

Evan frowned. 'You're telling me.'

He pressed the accelerator farther to the floor, ignoring the speed limit. The limo whizzed into the airport slip road, clipping the kerb as it did before Evan slewed it sideways into a parking space right by the terminal building.

Rupert blessed himself with the sign of the cross. 'My whole life flew before my eyes,' he said.

'Was it good?'

'Yes,' Rupert said thoughtfully. 'I've had quite a nice time.'

'Come on,' Evan urged. 'Let's find Fern.'

'And I would like my life to continue. So I won't be getting into another car with you for a while.'

'Don't worry,' Evan said. 'I'll be sticking to singing from now on. I know where my talents lie.' Driving, it seemed, wasn't one of them, and yet he was sure that he had once been quite good at it.

Evan raced into the terminal building, Rupert trailing behind him panting heavily. 'Scheduled or private?' Evan shouted back to his agent.

'Private,' Rupert puffed.

Evan swung towards the VIP area and was instantly recognised as a regular flyer by the stewardess at the desk. 'Good afternoon, Mr David. How can I help?'

'I'm looking for a young woman called Fern Kendal. She's due to fly out to L.A. today.'

The woman looked at her computer screen. 'I shouldn't really give out this information,' she said, giving a coy smile, 'but for you...'

Evan waited, tapping his foot impatiently while he did so. If this was a romantic comedy film the hero would always just catch the plane and there'd be a dizzying reunion where he swung the heroine around in his arms.

The woman continued to tap down her list of departures. Eventually, she looked up apologetically. 'I'm sorry, but you've already missed her. Ms Kendal's plane took off a few moments ago.'

But this was the real world and he'd arrived just too late. Evan felt his heart sink. Rupert came up behind him, panting heavily. 'Good news?'

Evan shook his head. 'No. She's gone.'

They crossed to the window and saw the tail of a plane heading into the distance. Evan wondered whether Fern was on it.

'You need to get my jet ready,' Evan said.

'It's your jet that Fern's on,' his agent admitted.

Evan's face darkened. 'Then hire me another one. Or
buy
me another one. Book me a goddamn commercial airline. Tie me to a carrier pigeon. I don't care, Rup. Do whatever it takes. I have to be in L.A. tonight.' Evan grasped his agent by the shoulders. 'I can't let her get away this time.'