Authors: Kate Kray
Rosie had helped in her own way. She had her own prop store, with a whole range of wigs, hair dyes and false moustaches. As police and prison authorities kept careful records of a criminal’s distinctive marks, like tattoos and scars, Rosie would use theatrical make-up and temporary tattoos. She would give the gang members new physical identities, including facial scars and tattoos on their hands and arms, for any witnesses to remember and report to the police. Rosie loved Johnny, and so wanted to please him that she did just what she was told, even if he was belittling her in front of his men. ‘You’re an out-of-work, frustrated actress, ain’t ya?’ Johnny would say. ‘You can put all that training to some good use… now, give him a moustache, or dye his hair, or something.’
That was the reality of her married life back then – if Rosie wasn’t making tea and sandwiches for the brutes in the lounge, she was putting tattoos, wigs, or false moustaches on them. That was what ‘had to be done’ when Johnny and Eddie were climbing the ladder to success. But it wasn’t the life she had wanted for herself.
As the train passed Bath Spa, Rosie took a sip of her now-cold coffee, and considered how lucky she was to be out of all that… and to have never have been tried with aiding and abetting.
By the time the train lurched into the station at Bristol, Eddie’s thinly-veiled threats were still echoing inside her head, and Rosie was finding it hard to focus on the important meeting ahead.
‘Could you help me again?’ Rosie asked her fellow passenger.
‘Uh, yes. Of course,’ he replied, clearly a little nervous at speaking to her directly.
After he had carefully taken Rosie’s bag from the rack, Rosie gave him a smile.
‘Thank you, Mr.…?’
‘Harris,’ he said, after a telling pause.
‘Are you following me?’ she asked, her chin up and looking right at him.
‘What makes you think that?’ he said, defensively. ‘No, of course not.’
‘Oh,’ she said, ‘my mistake.’
Definitely a copper
, thought Rosie.
She had no problem finding a taxi outside the station, and was soon checking in at the hotel, a beautiful building that overlooked the rejuvenated waterfront. It emerged that Andrew – or, rather, his production company – had reserved the loft suite for her. It had a truly stunning bedroom, with a vast, comfy-looking bed with crisp, white, Egyptian-cotton sheets. The bathroom, with its luxurious twin baths, was large enough to play squash in. Looking at her watch she saw she was in good time for the meeting, so she selected Stevie’s number on her mobile and pressed ‘call’.
‘I swear…’ Rosie said, pulling open a set of French windows to take a look outside, before murmuring, ‘Oh my God,’ as she stepped onto the balcony that overlooked the courtyard. ‘You should come here with Joe, Stevie, the next time you are over. You
have
to see this place.’
‘I’ve no problem with that,’ Stevie replied. ‘So, are you meeting with Andrew tonight?’
‘No, no. It’s for work,’ Rosie said. ‘He said he probably won’t be able to make it.’ Just then, there was a knock at the door. ‘Oh, hang on a minute, Stevie.’
Stevie waited patiently on the line, and listened while she heard Rosie thanking someone. Seconds later, she was back on the line.
‘Okay… guess who
that
was?’
‘No!’ said Stevie, ‘So he
did
make it. Funny that.’
‘He just popped up to say hello, to touch base. We’re meeting for dinner in the bistro downstairs later, at eight o’clock.’
Stevie giggled. ‘This is it! This is it, girl! He’s going to wine you and dine you… then he’s coming back to your room!’
‘Oi!’ said Rosie. ‘I can’t believe you just said that! No, it’s just work, okay? Just work… honestly. I’ve got to be professional.’
‘Professional about what?’
‘Stevie, stop it! As if!’
‘Well, we’ll have the same conversation in the morning then, shall we?’ Stevie said, unable to contain her glee.
After saying their goodbyes, Rosie ran a bath and laid out her little black Gucci dress on the bed. Looking at its daring neckline and short hemline, she began to question whether it was appropriate for a dinner meeting.
Oh well
, she thought,
it’s all I’ve got
.
After her bath, a final dab of perfume, and a critical glance in the mirror, she left the room, floated down the wide, sweeping staircase, and walked to the meeting at Straw/Gold’s offices and production studios, which was just round the corner from the hotel.
The meeting, as expected, ran over. It was only after Tom and Sir Laurence James – who was well into his sixties and a big enough star to dictate anyone’s schedule – started to complain, quite vocally, that Andrew wound it up.
Once they were back at the hotel, Rosie arched her eyebrows and smiled as she made her way through Roman-style pillars into the hotel’s restaurant. The 30-strong party took their seats around a colossal table that had been especially arranged for them, and Rosie was delighted to find that she was sitting opposite Andrew. The evening passed in a haze of animated conversation, fuelled by vast quantities of champagne and wine. Towards the end of the meal, Rosie suddenly became aware of how flirtatious she and Andrew were being… she had hardly spoken to anyone else all night!
After dinner, as the cast and crew were saying their goodbyes, Andrew offered to walk Rosie to her room. Without saying a word, she took his arm, and they left together. As they reached the door, there was a brief, awkward moment. Rosie was full of trepidation. The only man she had ever slept with was Johnny, and if she invited Andrew in, she knew what was going to happen. Her heart was thundering with anticipation and she could feel her nervousness with each snatched breath. She was searching every corner of her brain for something to say, but could do nothing but stare. Eventually, Andrew spoke.
‘You are so beautiful,’ he said, studying her face. ‘When I look at you, I find it hard to believe that you are here with me. I’m worried I’m going to wake up.’
Putting her arms tentatively around Andrew’s neck, she pressed her mouth to his.
‘Did that feel real?’ she asked.
He nodded, and pulling her close. It was passionate but… gentle. Gentleness was not a quality that Rosie had really experienced before, so she was taken aback. But she knew then what would happen… she took Andrew by the hand and led him into her room.
Once inside, Andrew took control. He put his arms around her, and kissed her passionately as he undid her dress, letting it slip it off her shoulders. Rosie’s inside tightened into a thousand knots. She hadn’t slept with a man since Johnny was imprisoned.
Five years ago
. A tsunami of warmth engulfed her as Andrew laid her, naked, onto the bed. Rosie watched him undress, the sight of his body sending pulsing shivers down her tingling spine.
Their lovemaking was tender and loving. Andrew seemed to know how to please her in ways that she had never experienced. Being with him, there was an intimacy that she couldn’t really understand. And afterwards, Rosie realised just what had been missing in her marriage to Johnny. He may have thought he was a good lover, but, in reality, he just fizzed around the bedroom like a sexed-up firework. Andrew’s lovemaking, however, was sweet, tender and unselfish.
As she lay in his arms, looking into his dark eyes, he whispered, ‘I don’t know what happens from here, but whatever it is, I want us to be together.’
Rosie answered without hesitating: ‘So do I.’
F
or the following few weeks, Rosie was intoxicated with happiness. Her new relationship was growing stronger by the day and felt almost beyond her control. Although falling head-over-heels for someone had not worked out for Rosie in the past, it felt so right this time. After all, as she told Madge, she was basically a kid when she met Johnny. That said, she did feel like a teenager again – heady and giddy. The change in her was obvious to everyone, including the lady who served the tea at the local café. Of course, Stevie, Aunt Madge and little Ruby, were well aware of the cause.
Ruby was especially happy for her mum, and it was obvious that she liked having Andrew around. Here, for the first time in her life, was the father figure that had always been absent… although Rosie suspected that the new iPod, laptop, and digital camera that Andrew had recently given her might have had something to do with her mood. Ruby constantly told anyone who would listen just how brilliant Andrew was. For the first time in years, Rosie felt really alive. It was wonderful having someone who genuinely cared for her, romantically. In fact, Andrew was fitting into her and Ruby’s lives so easily, that they were quickly becoming inseparable. She even quickly caught herself wondered how she had managed without him.
They would text each other every day to arrange whose house they would go to that evening – ‘yours or mine’, which within a week had become just ‘Y or M?’ More often than not, they would choose Rosie’s little home. Andrew got on with Aunt Madge well, too, often collecting her and Dibble, and taking them to the dog groomers. When it fitted in with his schedule he would even drive Ruby to and from school, something that seemed to make her deliriously happy.
Before long, Andrew had asked Rosie and Ruby to move into his home, a breathtaking four-bedroom house in Westbourne Grove, not far from Notting Hill. Rosie was thrilled. It
was
a big step, she knew that, but it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do – the next step in building their life together. Besides, Ruby’s school was just around the corner from Notting Hill, and Aunt Madge was still only a short drive away. So she made arrangements with an estate agent to try and rent her own house in Hewitt Way.
Rosie and Ruby could hardly believe how beautiful their new home was. It was set over four floors, and had a very modern exterior – a curtain wall of honed black granite, with steel panels and opaque glass. Once inside, Ruby ran into the kitchen. ‘Mum,’ she screamed, ‘you’ve got to look at this!’ It was stunning, fitted out by a famous German manufacturer that Rosie had never heard of before.
With their jaws almost dragging on the floor, they followed Andrew up the stairs, and found themselves staring out over a beautiful view of the nearby park, thanks to some frameless, floor-to-ceiling windows.
‘No
way
!’ said Ruby, as she was shown her new room. ‘This is, like,
a billion times
bigger than my old room.’ Rosie had to agree – it was pretty special. All the bedrooms were fitted out with granite or marble en-suites.
Next to the room that she would share with Andrew was his study, equipped with a bespoke glass desk and packed with every conceivable gadget – tripods, cameras, projectors, and plenty of expensive-looking items that were a mystery to both Rosie and Ruby. You name it, he had it.
Andrew put his arms around Rosie and insisted that now it was
their
home, and that they should treat it as such. The only place, he told them, that he insisted be kept private and strictly out-of-bounds was his study. He was adamant that he should have his own personal space – ‘a retreat’. After all, he reminded Rosie, he did have a business to run.
He then showed them the two outside terraces – one on the first floor and another on the second. After he had explained how to work the music system – that ran throughout the house – and had shown them the home cinema in the basement, Ruby asked, ‘Aren’t you worried about getting robbed?’ In a rather nonchalant way, but not bragging, he told them about the state-of-the-art security system that had been installed to keep the house and the two-car garage secure.
Rosie was lost for words. It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful house she had ever been in. True, she’d seen some gangsters’ mansions back in the days with Johnny, but they seemed gaudy and fake in comparison. The only thing absent in their new home, she felt, was a woman’s touch. She had been initially unwilling to bring this matter up in conversation, but when she finally did, Andrew agreed completely. So Rosie – sometimes accompanied by Andrew and Ruby, sometimes alone – went on numerous shopping trips all over London, picking out bedding, furniture and knick-knacks. Before long, the house began to look like a real family home.
Soon after moving in, Ruby had started to show interest in all things media related. When she wasn’t on her new laptop – she could access the internet from her room, and spent hours chatting to her friends on social networking sites – she would be out and about playing with the new camera that Andrew had given her. It fact, she had developed a real interest in photography, perhaps inspired by Andrew, as it was one of his great passions. For Rosie, it was heart-warming to know that the two of them had a common interest and were getting to know each other.
In fact they were getting on so well that one Saturday afternoon, as Rosie was taking Ruby shopping, she looked up at her mum and said, ‘Andrew’s lovely, isn’t he? I’m so glad that he wanted me to move in with him, as well as you.’
‘Of course he did,’ Rosie said. ‘You wouldn’t catch me moving anywhere without you.’
‘He’s so sophisticated… completely different from Dad,’she said. ‘In fact, I wish he
was
my dad.’
Rosie stopped in her tracks, and gave her daughter an enormous hug. She could feel herself welling up. ‘At least things are working out for us now, darling. Aren’t they?’