The producer had sensed the deflation among his troops. ‘There is always the possibility that we might return to London. It’s happened before.’
But again that hadn’t cut much ice. It had happened before, but with established shows that had merely been ‘rested’ from West End production for a couple of years, before returning fresh for another sell-out run. Jason Conway knew this, and so did the experienced cast.
‘So, what do you think you’ll do, Lizzy?’ Sophie asked, as they made their way out of the meeting. Sophie was in her early twenties, and had got her big break quite early in her career. She was a real talent. And, importantly, while some people in the business would step on your head to climb the ladder, Lizzy didn’t think Sophie was like that at all, and she was more than happy to give her advice.
‘I think I’ll be looking for another job,’ she replied.
‘You wouldn’t consider touring?’
‘No, and to be honest, Sophie, I don’t think it would be a good career move for you.’
‘But I need to pay the bills.’
‘You’ll get into another show, no problem.’
‘Maybe,’ Sophie replied, not sounding convinced.
‘There’s no maybe about it, Sophie. You’re a fantastic vocalist, and a great actor. You could turn your hand to a number of things – singing, television, maybe even film if you’re given the opportunity.’
‘You think so?’
‘I know so.’
‘Thanks.’ Sophie smiled. ‘I know you’ll be all right, Lizzy, because you’re the best.’
‘Hey’ – Carly, another one of the girls broke in – ‘you both up for a drink across the road? You know, drown our sorrows?’
Lizzy thought of Emma, alone in the flat. ‘Sorry, I’ve got to be somewhere else. Have a drink or three on me.’
Lizzy exited the theatre and headed for the tube, en route back to Emma. She was just about to descend the steps to the underground station when her phone rang.
‘Lizzy, Adrian Spencer here.’
She grimaced, standing aside for a businessman as he strode past into the station. The last thing she needed right then was another conversation with Adrian Spencer. But, at the same time, she was intrigued about the reason the TV researcher would have to ring her. ‘Adrian, hello.’
‘Whereabouts are you?’
‘I’m just outside a tube station, in the West End. Why?’
‘Because I want to see you,’ he said.
‘And what makes you think that I want to see you?’
Lizzy’s response elicited a laugh. ‘You would if you knew what I was going to say.’
Lizzy nearly cut the call there and then. The guy was talking in riddles again, and she really didn’t have the patience for it. ‘Look, I’m busy right now. I can’t just drop everything.’
‘I know about Peter Myers,’ he said.
Lizzy’s interest sharpened, but she wanted to test that he wasn’t just bluffing. ‘Know what about Peter Myers?’
‘That he escaped from custody and is still on the loose as we speak.’
Lizzy traced her tongue across her bottom lip. He obviously had his contacts. ‘That isn’t public knowledge,’ she said. ‘Who told you?’
‘I have my sources.’ She could hear him smiling. ‘To be successful in my job, you have to cultivate your contacts.’
‘In the police.’ Lizzy made the connection. She had been reading all about those sorts of goings-on in the newspapers.
‘I don’t reveal any of my sources, Lizzy, so I’m afraid you’ll just have to speculate as to how I know what I know.’
‘It must be someone in the police, because no one else knows,’ she said. ‘But I don’t particularly care. As you’ll appreciate, we’ve all got more important things to think about at the moment.’
‘That’s why I’m calling.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Meet me,’ he said. ‘Where exactly are you?’
Lizzy shook her head as she relented. She was allowing herself to be played by him. ‘Covent Garden.’
‘Meet me in Trafalgar Square, under Nelson’s Column – the side facing the National Gallery. I’ll be there in half an hour.’
‘What’s going on?’ the man said, looking anxiously at Sally, who was sobbing.
He was athletic in appearance: toned and well over six feet tall, dressed in a tracksuit. He closed the door behind him.
‘It’s okay,’ Sally said, trying hard to stifle her sobs. ‘I’m fine.’
The man looked at her for a few moments, his brow furrowed. He then turned his attention to Will, who was wishing he could be anywhere else. ‘Why is Sally so upset?’
‘I’m sorry,’ was all that Will could think of saying. ‘I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to upset her.’
Sally had started to calm down, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. ‘Can you please just leave, Will.’
Will nodded, glad to have the excuse to go. ‘Of course. I am really sorry, Sally.’ Thankfully, the other man let him pass without another word, although Will got the impression that he was holding himself back.
Once outside, Will strode across the playground, back towards the exit. By the time he had left the school grounds, he had started to really worry.
What if, right now, Sally is telling that man my confession?
He would still be seeking an explanation for her upset, and she might just reveal the truth.
As Will crossed the road, he wished that he had just let their relationship end at that earlier phone call.
It’s all Dad’s fault!
What the hell had he been thinking, getting involved in that way, throwing accusations around and revealing the blackmail attempt?
His interfering had just made things worse.
Will looked at his watch. He could make up the extra time at work. Instead of heading back to the office, he made for his father’s house. He needed to stop him from causing any more damage.
‘Will. Hi!’
Will was taken by surprise to see a heavily pregnant Miranda open the door. He had assumed she would be at work. ‘Hi, Miranda. Is Dad at home?’
‘Yes, yes, he’s up in his study. Come in, I’ll call him down.’
‘It’s okay,’ Will said. ‘I’ll go up to him.’
‘Has something happened? Have they found Peter Myers?’
‘Not that I know of. Everything’s fine,’ he lied. ‘I’m on an extended lunch break. I just needed to chat to Dad about something.’
He left Miranda downstairs and knocked on the study door.
‘Yes?’ Edward must have heard him talking to Miranda, as he didn’t seem surprised to see his son. He simply looked up from his desk, pen in hand. ‘William. You’re not working today?’
‘I am. But I needed to speak to you.’ He clenched his fists, trying to stop the trembling in his hands. ‘You went to speak to Sally.’
Edward placed his pen on the desk. ‘Just close the door.’ Will did as requested and Edward continued. ‘How do you know about that?’
‘Because she told me.’
‘You’re still in touch with her?’
‘Yes. We got back in touch recently.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I wanted to.’
Edward laughed in disbelief. ‘What, you wanted to reconnect with the woman who plotted to murder you?’
‘Sally isn’t a bad person, Dad.’
Another laugh. ‘William, I’m not sure that you’re the best judge of personality.’
Will swallowed his rising anger. ‘I didn’t come to discuss that. I came to ask why you went round to Sally’s place, accusing her of being the blackmailer.’
‘Because it all points towards her,’ his father replied. ‘She has the past form, and she had the means of finding out about what you did, because of her close connection to Stuart.’
‘So you just went storming over there, without any evidence.’
‘It all points towards her,’ his father repeated.
‘How did you even know where she lives?’
Edward stayed silent.
‘You got her address from my flat, didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’ Edward heaved a sigh from deep within himself. ‘I had to do something, William. I wasn’t prepared to let it carry on, and just sit by.’
‘God, Dad, do you know what trouble you’ve caused?’ Will stared at his dad uncomprehendingly. ‘Sally knows all about it now! She knows the truth, and she might have told other people.’
Edward stood up. ‘What? I didn’t tell her.’
‘No, but I did.’
‘
What?
Why the hell would you do that?’ Now it was Edward’s turn to look on in disbelief.
‘Because it just happened. It wasn’t planned.’ Will was sullen.
Edward shook his head. ‘Sometimes, Will, you are your own worst enemy. It’s almost like you want something bad to happen – you bring it on yourself.’
‘Thanks for that, Dad. Thanks for your support.’
‘Oh, grow up, William.’
‘Maybe I am finally growing up, Dad. And I’m sick of being controlled by you.’
‘Fine,’ Edward said, throwing his hands up in the air. ‘If you don’t want my help, then that’s up to you.’ He turned back to his desk and started blindly sorting through the papers there. ‘But good luck finding the money to pay the blackmailer.’
Will shook his head. ‘Typical cheap shot.’
Edward was about to fire back a response when they heard a sudden groan from the other side of the door.
Will flung it open to see Miranda outside, bent double against the wall, breathing hard. ‘It’s the baby,’ she said, from between gritted teeth. ‘I think it’s coming.’
Edward looked horrified. ‘But it’s not due for another month and a half!’
Miranda glared at him. ‘You’d better get my bag ready. And then you can tell me the truth about what the hell’s going on.’
Chapter 28
‘Lizzy, hello.’
Lizzy was standing beneath the statue of Admiral Nelson. She had been admiring the twenty-foot-high Norway spruce Christmas tree nearby, a tradition of the festive season in London. She had turned as Adrian Spencer approached, his hands buried in the pockets of his trench coat. The sky was dark and threatening rain, the wind whipping up litter around her feet. ‘Adrian.’
‘We must stop making a habit of this,’ he said.
Lizzy smiled a tight smile. ‘Don’t worry, I intend to.’
Adrian laughed. ‘Oh, Lizzy, I do love your feistiness.’
Lizzy shuddered at the thought that he might be trying to flirt with her. ‘You’ve got something to tell me?’
‘Yes.’
‘So, what are you waiting for?’
Lizzy thought she saw a smile flicker across his lips. ‘I wanted to reiterate what I said about Peter Myers. He’s extremely dangerous. You all need to be very careful of that man.’
Lizzy couldn’t believe it. ‘Is that it? Is that why you brought me here, to tell me that Peter Myers is a dangerous man?’
‘I—’
‘Don’t you think we know full well how dangerous he is? I mean, he nearly killed Richard, and he kidnapped Dan and me! We don’t need you to tell us to be careful.’
‘I know you don’t,’ he said.
‘Are you enjoying this?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ He looked taken aback.
‘How did you feel when you were told that Peter Myers had escaped? I bet you were glad.’
‘No, I wasn’t.’
‘Really? Don’t you like watching us suffer, and living in fear?’
‘You’ve got me wrong, Lizzy! I’m not the one who’s pleased about this.’
Lizzy stopped. ‘Who
would
be pleased about it?’
‘Firework Films,’ he replied.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, they’re the ones who will benefit from everything that’s happening. I’ve got nothing to gain, but they certainly have.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Lizzy, you can’t have forgotten about the docudrama.’
Lizzy blinked. ‘Of course I haven’t.’
‘Well, what do you think Firework Films’ reaction will be when they hear the news that Peter Myers has escaped?’
‘I have absolutely no idea.’
‘I can tell you exactly what their reaction will be. Elation. It’s more drama for their documentary. They won’t be able to believe their luck, because for them, the plot is just getting better and better. And one thing’s for certain – they won’t be thinking about the welfare of you and your friends.’
‘Surely they’re not that mercenary?’
He smiled. ‘Firework Films is single-minded when it comes to achieving its goals. They don’t care who they hurt, as long as it makes good television.’
‘They’re really that bad?’
‘I worked for them, Lizzy, remember? I know what they’re like. The participants in some of their programmes were exploited, made to look like fools.’
‘But don’t people complain, if they’re being exploited as you say?’
‘No. Most of the people who feature in their programmes are, by definition, vulnerable. They can’t stand up for themselves. And in the instances where they have raised concerns, Firework Films has a very effective response strategy.’