They were deporting him to Italy ...
Webb said flatly, looking into Venetia's strained white face with dark smudges under her eyes, "What does the name mean to you, baby?"
She shook her head, fingers still clinging to his arm. "I swear I don't know! Except that a-a man I know, this friend of mine, told me I should mention it if you got leery.
That's all he said, honestly! You can call from the pub if you don't believe me-I have a number. You can ask him anything you want-whatever you need to convince you ..."
There were two coin telephone booths inside the crowded pub, both empty. Webb ordered drinks, flirted casually with the barmaid, and looked at his watch. "Damn!
Cotta make that call before it's too late. Watch our drinks, sweetheart."
He could watch Venetia from the hot glass booth. She was sipping her drink and flirting in her turn with one of the musicians. And the danger signals were still going off in his mind.
A cautious male voice answered on the first ring, speaking with a thick brogue.
"Yes?"
"This is Carnahan. I'm a friend of Venetia's." "Ah yes." No surprise in the deep voice.
"There is someone here who would like to speak to you. You're alone?"
"Yeah."
And then another voice he hadn't heard in years-the same heavy accent he remembered.
"Antonio?" No one but Nino had ever caned him by the Italian version of his second name. "It's good to hear you, fine to know you've done so well, eh? Now"-briskly, giving him no time to answer "-you come to see me and we talk. But be careful, you hear?" A chuckle. "I am glad that the woman did not find you too easy to convince. It makes me proud."
EXHAUSTION SEEMED TO HAVE SEEPED into Anne's bones, melting them. What would happen if she fell asleep right here on Carol's couch, while everyone else was still talking? Carol and Harris and Yves and even Karim, who had suddenly turned up, smiling his white-toothed grin. Carol had invited everyone to her tea party ... and the tea had turned into hors d'oeuvres and cocktails somewhere along the line; why try to remember when?
Publicity-the new movie. Harris and Yves were arguing about just how much publicity, She heard other names mentioned for the major roles. A South American playboy, for instance, who raced cars and loved hunting. She'd heard the name before; it brought an image of smiling magazine pictures. But just for an instant. God, she was tired! Everything was catching up with her at once.
"Drink your martini up, darling. I have another one on the way." Carol was good at playing the gracious hostess. Harris, sitting by her, stroking her arm. "Anne, can you be ready to leave for California in three days? You're becoming a nervous wreck, love, and the change of scenery will be good for you. You can relax, laze in the Sun for a week before we start shooting Greed for Glory. And I know you're going to be great."
She must have answered him, because he leaned forward to kiss her lightly. "I'm going to make all the arrangements. You don't have to worry about anything-will you remember that?"
Everyone was insistent that she mustn't worry. Even Craig, who wanted her to leave London-leave England. Well, it was all working out that way, wasn't it? But where was Webb? Anne remembered, belatedly, that Webb didn't know yet. He'd wanted Claudia to play her part; or so Carol had said. But surely he wouldn't mind when he found out? Because he hadn't been seeing Claudia recently; he'd spent most of his time with her. And she didn't care what Craig said-she wouldn't believe any of it!
Tired of people telling her about Webb, warning her ... if Webb didn't want to be with her, he wouldn't be. Keep it simple and uncomplicated, Anne!
"Hello, lovely thing. You look very lonely, sitting here all by yourself. Just like you need company." Karim put his arm around her shoulders, easing her against him; and it would take too much effort to pull away. "Listen," he whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear, "why don't we go away from here and be together? I want you-and even more when you look like a frightened gazelle!"
Rousing herself, Anne gave him a reproachful look. "Why do you keep talking that way?" she murmured. "Venetia's probably waiting up for you!"
"Venetia? Hah! I am not her property. And in any case, she's not around. She's gone to visit some old aunt of hers in Ireland. I didn't ask her when she would be back, because I did not care. Is that clear?"
Ireland! Like a needle prick the thought stiffened her, wak: ing her out of her torpor.
Coincidence? Webb didn't need to pretend, not with her. And he'd asked her to go along with him, hadn't he?
She realized suddenly that Carol was turning away from the door, having seen Harris and Yves out. She looked at them with her eyebrows raised. "Well, you two? Made up your minds yet?"
"I have made mine up!" Karim said positively.
At about the same time, Anne shrugged away from his too-tight arm, saying, "I think I've had too much to drink. I'd really better go back."
"Back to where, darling?" Carol sounded impatient as she crossed the room, the skirt of her long hostess gown outlining her magnificent legs. "Look, let me call first, will you? I don't care for the idea of your being alone tonight, Anne. I'd never forgive myself if ..." Switching to a false brightness, she picked up the telephone. "Just hold on a minute, hmm, sweetie? Webb's such an unpredictable bastard, as we both know!"
It seemed ages before Carol put down the receiver with a decided "click."
"Well! I guess he decided to stay on-or catch a later flight. Who knows, with that son of a bitch? But you can stay over here. I've got extras of everything, including bedrooms. And no, baby, I won't listen to any arguments. I mean, it would be silly!
We'll just leave a message with the desk in case Webb does turn up tonight."
In the end Karim went away disappointed, trying to hide his scowl when he realized Anne meant it. "Well, there will be other times, yes? You may play the coquette-it intrigues me even while it makes me angry! You know that, I think, because you are very feminine. You deny me because you are fascinated, and afraid because you know when the little games we play are ended, I will have you."
"Oh shit! What a character!" Carol pulled a disgusted face. "But at least he doesn't play let's-pretend, does he? Come on to bed, love. You look about ready to pass out!"
She fell asleep almost instantly, wearing a silky nightgown borrowed from Carol. Not giving herself time to miss her own nakedness and Webb's, pressed closely against her.
Unfamiliar skirts twisted around her legs, stopping her from kicking out, from trying to swim frantically to the surface, pale-green and tantalizingly close above her. And as always in her Dream, the sea had her again.
Long streamers of kelp wrapped themselves with insinuating gentleness around her body like the arms of a false lover, holding her down when she would have struck out despairingly for the surface. She was suspended in two places at once. The sand was cold and crunchy under her bare feet, and the sea-water chill against her body.
She could see her own hair, silvery strands floating around her face. And she knew with a mounting terror that she had to escape, had to get free of the encircling bands of seaweed that tightened, and tightened ... but they held her fast. She screamed, and knew despairingly that now the water would come rushing into her open mouth.
She was drowning, and no one could save her. How could they, when she wasn't supposed to be here and nobody knew?
"Anne I Anne, wake up! Are you okay?"
It was Carol and not Webb bending over her. Carol's long red hair brushed her shoulders. "My God, baby! Do you often have nightmares like that? The way you screamed .. ."
She was all damp with perspiration, even her face. It took her some time to realize she was sobbing uncontrollably. Last time she had had the Dream, Webb had held her close, very tight.
"Annie! Baby, you're safe," he said, soothingly. "What was it?"
"I –I had the nightmare again. The Dream .. ."
"The same one? Hey, didn't your shrink tell you that telling your dreams scares them away? Tell me about it, baby."
"I always go back there in the Dream .. ."
Shaky, half-awake whisper. "Back to where? Tell me."
"To the house. Spindrift, where my grandparents lived. Only everyone else called it the Mallory place. My-my mother used to take me there when I was a little girl, and I used to love the ocean, until-until one day .. ." She stopped, swallowed, closing her eyes.
"One day what?"
She made herself force the words out. "One day she-drowned. My mother. And I found her first, you see. We'd gone down to the beach together-I think we did! But I was waiting for her, and waiting-and she didn't come. I kept waiting. I was afraid to go back up alone, so I ran up and down the beach looking for her and I-I thought it was a piece of driftwood at first, and then I saw her hair ..."
Turning her face, she'd pressed it against his warm flesh. "In my Dream," she whispered, her voice muffled, "it's me that's drowning. I-I know how it feels, Webb! It happens to me!"
"Hush now, that's enough. Don't talk about it anymore, don't think about it, love."
Webb's hand stroked her hair gently; she felt him move closer, adjusting his body to hers. Flame through her belly then, as the Dream faded and reality came back.
But this time it wasn't Webb but Carol who hung over her, long nails digging into her shoulder. A different, colder reality. Why couldn't it have been Webb?
Carol shook her, repeating something sharply. "Are you sure you're awake now?
Shall I get you some water to drink? You sure had me scared for a moment. I thought there were burglars in here! Want to come in my room with me?"
Carol was treating her like a child! Anne shook her head stubbornly. "Oh no, I'm fine now, honestly! I'm sorry I woke you up, Carol."
"That's okay." But Carol still looked doubtful. She gave a short laugh. "For a moment there I thought you were still hallucinating off that Colombian Gold we were smoking.
Shit, it even sends me into a spin, just a couple of drags. You should have let Karim stay, and we could have shared. I understand he's got more than enough to go around!"
Anne swallowed one of Carol's tranquilizers; and this time when sleep overtook her, it was like falling into a long black tunnel. There were no more dreams, and the darkness held her fast until late into the morning.
Webb had still not returned when she tried calling at eleven o'clock, still trying to blink the heavy dregs of sleep from her eyes. The impersonal voice at the desk told her there had been no messages.
"It's so damned typical of him!" Carol snapped, adding briskly, "Well, at least you do have a key, don't you, pet? Give the bastard a shock-get your clothes and move out, why don't you? You could stay here; I'd really love to have you. And Harris will be coming over this afternoon to talk about tickets and travel arrangements and stuff. I think they want to take some pictures tonight, when he makes the big announcement.
End of talent hunt, and all that!" She laughed her famous husky laugh. "Christ, I'm starting to sound British, aren't I? I'll be glad to get back home for a nice long rest after this. In time for the Awards. And who knows, this time next year maybe you'll be up for an Oscar! It's a crazy upside-down life, baby, but fun, as you'll find."
She thrust newspapers, an untidy pile, at Anne without waiting for a reply. "Here, why don't you read these if you want to while you're having your coffee and rolls? Elsie's got your bath running-she's a treasure, and I might just steal her to go back to the States with me."
Where was Webb? Stupid of her to wonder-but if anything had happened ...
Thank God-nothing! No headlines screaming of an airplane crash. Just more politics: the worsening situation in Belfast, hints that the Irish Republican Army was being secretly financed and supplied with arms by foreign sources.
Anne tossed the papers away, torn between relief and anger. Oh, damn Webb! And damn her weakness for him! Carol was right, she should be sensible for a change and turn the tables on him. Break it off before he did.
But she had still not been able to define her feelings when Craig picked her up, his face carefully blank. "Good old Craig!" Carol had whispered over a bubble of laughter. "He is faithful, isn't he? And attentive just at the right times. You're lucky, Anne!" Wasn't that what everyone kept telling her?
"It seems as if everything I've tried to tell you recently has been the wrong thing, Anne," Craig said when they were alone. "And I'm not happy about the role I've been cast in, any more than you are, I'm sure. I'm glad you've made some kind of decision, though-as little as I approve of your latest venture! Carol Cochran is honest in her own way, I suppose. Which is more than I can say about that Tressider woman."
"Venetia? Why do you keep on bringing her up, Craig?"
His face took on its familiar, guarded look, and he wouldn't answer her directly. "For God's sake, Anne! You're not a naive child. Venetia Tressider is a wild, misguided woman with too much money and a penchant for causes. Usually the wrong ones.
She's headed for trouble, and could drag in everyone she's been associated with.
Anne"-he sounded distracted for a moment, smoothing his hair back in an uncharacteristic gesture-"I don't think I've been able to make you understand yet how damned vulnerable you are! There are people who could and would use you without scruple. And whether you like it or not, you're in the middle of a damned ugly situation. The sooner you're out of it, the better and easier for us all. And look, if I've put your back up again, I'm sorry! But it's been a strain-on me, on Duncan, especially after what's happened. On a lot of other people as well. There's almost been a damned diplomatic crisisover this!
"Craig, that's enough!" Her head had begun to ache, and almost unconsciouslyshe began to massage her temples with her fingertips. After last night, this was too much.
God, she was so mixed up! What was Craig really trying to say? What was she doing with him? No, she didn't understand.