Michael took it from her and dabbed his eyes. ‘You know, I hate to be a killjoy,’ he said, as Ellen slapped him, ‘but there’s just one problem. Ted Forgon. He’s still got a thirty per cent holding of World Wide and ever since he got his hands on the controls of this movie … Well, I’ve got to tell you, from the talks I’ve been having with the lawyers, we’re going to have a pretty difficult time getting him to back off.’
‘If Chris Ruskin keeps voting in our favour, then we’ve got nothing to worry about,’ Ellen reminded him.
‘I’d feel happier if I knew which way Sandy was going to go,’ Michael confessed. ‘Do you know where she is?’ he asked Chambers. ‘Has anyone heard from her yet?’
Chambers was shaking his head. ‘I was going to ask you the same question,’ he said. ‘I found an e-mail from her that she sent just after she did the Larry King show, but it didn’t give any clue where she might be.’
‘But surely, wherever she is, she’s got to know by now that the crisis is over,’ Matty said.
Tom nodded thoughtfully. ‘You’re probably right,’ he said. ‘Maybe she’s just not ready to come back yet.’
Ellen looked at him curiously. ‘You make that sound as though you’ve got an inkling where she might be,’ she said.
‘Mmm, I think I do,’ he answered. ‘I could be wrong, but … Well, we’ll see.’
Ellen smiled and turned back to Michael. It had come over her very suddenly, the dizziness, and she didn’t want to make a fuss, but she had to leave now and she didn’t think she could do it without him.
One look at her face was enough to tell him what she wanted, and getting behind her he helped her up from her chair and joined in with her as she told the others not to fuss.
A few minutes later they were lying together on their bed, gazing down at their newly born son who was
sleeping
between them.
‘It’s going to be all right,’ she whispered, trying to fight back the fear. ‘I know it is. I just …’
‘Ssssh,’ he soothed. ‘It’s still early days.’
‘We’ll get through this,’ she said.
‘Of course we will.’
‘Do you promise?’
He smiled and reached over to touch her face. ‘I know I’ve come pretty close a couple of times,’ he said, ‘but have I ever let you down yet?’
‘No,’ she said, swallowing hard. ‘I just hope to God that I don’t let you down.’
‘If you’d called this boy Galen I might have been worried,’ he said, and she laughed.
Then, leaning over, he brought her mouth to his and kissed her with such tenderness that tears came to her eyes. Sure the next couple of months were going to be tough, getting through an ordeal like this could never be easy. But all that really mattered was that she was alive, and that their love, despite everything, just seemed to get stronger all the time.
Chapter 26
NIGHT WOULDN’T BE
long now in settling over the wide, sweeping landscape that glittered with every shade of green, and basked under a sky of a hundred different blues. All around hills rose from smooth, lush pastures and plunged to the depths of rocky gorges, where streams and rivers bubbled and gushed a journey to the distant sea.
The afternoon had been warm, but as evening approached and the sun began to fade, the temperature was dropping fast and the wind was starting to bite. Soon they would hear the whistle of ghostly gusts that tore through the mountains at night, and the ageing creak of trees bending to the force of the gale. Sandy’s guide, Colin, could identify almost every bird that called in the night, and every one of those that sang by day, along with all the living creatures that scuttled over the hills and dales and the endless variety of shrub, plant and tree that called this glorious place home.
Right at that moment though, as they strolled unhurriedly over that small stretch of highlands back to the house, Colin was in the midst of telling a joke, while Sandy, used to his humour by now, was already bubbling up with laughter.
‘So,’ he said, the earflaps on his hat bobbing as he walked, and his eyes glowing like coals in the warm hearth of their sockets, ‘the architect’s dog goes up to the
pile
of bones, arranges them neatly, in a kind of Eiffel Tower, then comes back to his master for praise. Fantastic, say the others. Then the mathematician’s dog goes up to the bones, arranges them in a straight line, counts them, then goes back to his master for praise. Amazing, say the others. Then the Hollywood producer’s dog goes up to the bones, crushes them to powder, sniffs them up his nostrils, screws the other two dogs, then asks for commission.’
Sandy burst out laughing, and carried on laughing as he treated her to one of his drier expressions.
‘Sounds like you know that dog,’ he remarked.
Still laughing she said, ‘I’ll bet I know its owner. So exactly how long were you in Hollywood?’
‘Twenty-six years,’ he answered. ‘I was an agent, then a producer, then I worked for the studios – then I got a life.’
Sandy laughed again. ‘How come you never mentioned it before?’
‘Because boasting about being a Hollywood producer would be a bit like boasting you got ebola.’ He grimaced. ‘OK, I’m being harsh, but there’s not a lot of reason to tell anyone who I was, or what I did in my earlier life. Besides, it was different back then, more about talent and loyalty, not like today. Today it’s all about deals; who’s making the biggest and fastest buck. There was no way I could beat ’em, so I joined ’em for a while, made myself a bundle, then came here to repair the abuse to my soul.’
Sandy smiled. ‘So did you know Ted Forgon?’ she asked, taking a set of earmuffs from her pocket and hooking them on.
‘I certainly knew of him,’ Colin answered. ‘He was one of the big players even then, but I don’t recall any dealings with him personally.’
‘You were lucky,’ she remarked.
His irony made a return, for during their many long
and
lively conversations these past two weeks he’d got to hear quite a bit about Ted Forgon.
They walked on quietly for a while then, descending the hill towards the small grey stone castle where orange lights glowed a welcome at the windows and a Scottish flag flapped from the turrets. By the time they reached the door Sandy was laughing again, her cheeks red from the cold, her eyes tearing up from the wind and mirth.
‘Och, Sandy, your timing is scary,’ Olivia said, as they brought a cloud of cold air into the large, flagstoned hall, which was home to a discreet reception area, several French antiques and an enormous log fire that was currently crackling and roaring in the magnificent hearth. Olivia, Colin’s rotundly pretty wife, was holding on to the phone while trying to bat away the cat that was making a languorous inspection of the desk. ‘There’s a call for you, dear,’ she told Sandy.
Sandy’s heart immediately jumped.
‘Will I put it through to your room, or would you like to take it here?’ Olivia offered.
Sandy was nonplussed. Though no-one knew she was here, she was well aware that the only person who was likely to guess would be Tom. She wondered if, subconsciously, she’d been waiting for him to find her, but that was absurd, she was ready to go back now, had even told Olivia and Colin that she’d be leaving at the end of the week.
‘Are you going to take it?’ Olivia asked, leaning over the desk for her husband’s dutiful kiss as he passed.
‘Who is it?’ Sandy asked.
Olivia smiled and Sandy’s heart turned over.
So it was Tom.
Taking the receiver, she held it in both hands and watched Olivia follow Colin through to the kitchens.
As the door closed behind them her heart tightened again. This was a call she’d been dreading, as well as longing for, ever since she’d arrived. It seemed suddenly
strange
that it was upon her, and though she’d rehearsed what she might say a hundred times, she knew even before she spoke that all her preparations had been in vain.
‘Hello,’ she said.
‘Well hi,’ he responded. ‘I was beginning to think you weren’t talking to me.’
She smiled. ‘I’ve been looking forward to talking to you,’ she told him.
‘Now that’s good to hear. Are you OK?’
‘Yes. How are you?’
He paused. ‘In need of a friend.’
Sandy’s smile wavered, as she sucked in her lips.
‘Will you see me? If I come?’ he asked.
Her eyes closed as warm emotions swept through her. ‘Where are you?’ she said.
‘At Heathrow. I can fly up there tomorrow.’
‘Then I’ll tell Colin and Olivia to expect you,’ she said.
It was just before lunch when Sandy finally spotted his rental car coming along the narrow winding lane towards the Retreat. Beneath her carefully cultivated calm she was a thousand times more nervous than she’d care to admit, but she was keeping it under control by insisting vigorously to herself that she really was ready for this. It wasn’t going to be easy, she knew that, but few things were.
Colin was behind the reception desk, sorting out paperwork, when she ran down the wide oak staircase into the hall.
‘He’s here,’ she said.
Colin looked up and smiled. Then, coming round the desk, he gave her a giant hug. ‘You’re going to be just fine,’ he promised.
She nodded, swallowed hard and put on her bravest smile. He was right, of course, but keeping her courage forward was going to be tough. Easier now, though,
than
it would have been before she came here, and because of the subtle and tremendous changes it had wrought in her, she understood why Tom had taken refuge at the Retreat so many times himself.
He knew Colin and Olivia well. They had helped him through some of his bleakest, most despairing moments during the turbulent months after Rachel’s death, buoying him with their quiet strength and infinite kindness. They would never call themselves counsellors, nor did they welcome any such labels as spiritualists or healers, they simply liked to think of themselves as friends. But they were much more than that, for the way they shared their view on the world, and on life, was so enriching to the soul and inspiring to the mind that it was impossible to go away from here unchanged for the better.
They saw everything life delivered, whether good or bad, as a means of measuring courage or appreciation; or perhaps as a reassurance of existence, or an exercise in endurance; almost always it would involve a strengthening of character, and an often necessary levelling of ego. They never preached or advised, nor did they lay claim to any special affinity with God; they simply welcomed their friends, and friends of friends, with warm, open hearts, and a wry irreverence that was as rewarding to be a part of as the tranquillity and seclusion of this wild terrain.
Perhaps two weeks wasn’t long enough to effect all the changes she’d have liked, or felt she needed, but she was sure some of the more important ones were taking place – those that were going to help her to experience and explore her life much more fully and less fearfully than she had before. She was now beginning to understand the reasons behind her desperate attachment to Michael, her piteous search for love and acceptance, that had come from her feelings of inferiority and lack of self-esteem. It was as though she had needed Michael, then Tom, to validate her existence, to give her a place in the
world
she didn’t feel worthy of alone. Until now she’d had no appreciation of herself, nor of her success, hadn’t understood at all who she was, or why she should matter. All she’d known was the anger and bitterness that was locked up inside her, the self-pity and resentment that had driven her to inflict injury and malice on those who refused to recognize and accept her. She’d been all twisted up in knots of jealousy over Ellen, whom everyone seemed to love, and who made her feel so inadequate and unattractive. She realized now that it was her own mind that had created these problems, that she had allowed her ego to set up defences and hostilities that had no need to be there, for only she saw herself as undeserving and meaningless, so only she could do something to change that.
In fact, it was Tom who had first tackled her warped and damaging view of herself and set it on the right track. He had done so in many subtle as well as obvious ways, like taking the kind of interest in her that no-one had much bothered with before; getting her to feel good and right about herself after all the disastrous flirtation, thinly veiled prostitution, and heavy-duty desperation. She realized now that one of the reasons he had never slept with her was because he didn’t want her to use her body to befriend him – he wanted her to understand that she was worth knowing as a woman first, a woman of many more qualities and much greater depth than just those of a lover.
Of course, the other reason he had resisted her was because he didn’t love her, but though it hurt to know that, she was up to dealing with it now. At least, she certainly hoped she was, because his car was drawing up outside, and though she’d worked hard trying to persuade herself these past two weeks that she only
thought
she was in love with him, underneath it all she was still a long way down the road to believing it was the truth. After all, he was an extraordinary man, with
such
complexity of character and so many great qualities that even Olivia agreed it would be very hard not to love him.
Giving Colin a last quick hug, she took a glance in the mirror at the simple jeans and big sweater she had chosen, then went to open the door. A blast of icy wind barged past her and rearranged Colin’s desk on its way to the hearth. Hurriedly she pulled the door closed, then seeing Tom walking round the car, she broke into a smile and ran across the forecourt to greet him.
‘Hey, look at you!’ he cried, catching her up in his arms and spinning her round. ‘You look great. The cold weather obviously suits you.’
‘Oh, it’s so wonderful to see you,’ she told him, hugging him hard and looking up into his laughing face. ‘I can hardly believe you’re here.’
He grinned. ‘It’s a great place to get me to come find you,’ he responded. ‘Are you planning on staying for good?’
‘I’m leaving at the end of the week,’ she answered, slipping an arm round his waist as they walked back to the house. ‘I’ve thought about you such a lot – I was so scared for you, terrified that you might never come back and if you did that you might never forgive me. But now you’re here, and I’m going to tell you right out that I don’t have a single regret about what I did.’