Читать книгу Secrets of Cavendon: A gripping historical saga full of intrigue and drama - Barbara Taylor Bradford - Страница 19

‘It takes a lot of courage to be brave,’ Alicia said, staring across the table at Constance Lambert. She shook her head, and muttered, ‘Oh, sorry. That does sound ridiculous, doesn’t it?’ Her eyes suddenly brimmed with tears.

Constance reached out, took hold of Alicia’s hand. ‘I know exactly what you mean. It takes a great deal of strength to be brave in this kind of situation, darling.’

‘It was just so unexpected and he was, well, brutal, really, in the way he told me, so blunt, unfeeling.’ Alicia rummaged around in her bag for a handkerchief, tears sliding down her cheeks.

‘So it seems,’ Constance murmured, her voice sympathetic, gentle. ‘And you’re not the first woman to weep over a man. Or the last. Women have been doing that for centuries.’

Constance looked off into the distance, as if recalling something, her face contemplative. Then she said in a low voice, ‘Men can be real sods at times.’

Alicia wiped her cheeks, blew her nose and attempted to smile at Constance, but it faltered almost at once. Once again, Constance took hold of the younger woman’s hand, held it comfortingly.

The two of them were sitting in the lounge area of Brown’s Hotel, having afternoon tea. They were very close; Constance and Felix had been Alicia’s theatrical agents since the beginning of her career in British films. She had not become a big star, but she was an actress of some standing. Beloved by the public, she worked on a regular basis and always in good movies. They had established a successful career for her, and looked after her interests scrupulously. And she relied on them, trusting them implicitly. However, it was Constance she had turned to in her upset over Bryan Mellor, knowing how well Constance understood her on an emotional level.

Constance broke the silence, when she said in a slightly puzzled tone, ‘There’s one thing I do find strange, and that is Bryan’s decision to do Victor Chapman’s Shakespearean tour of Australia. That’s certainly not going to embellish his career in any way at all. In fact, it’s a bit of a comedown, in my opinion. And by the way, Felix agrees.’

Leaning forward, Alicia confided, ‘I’m glad you said that, because that was exactly what I felt. On the other hand, he is a bit odd, sort of quirky, and he’s stubborn; he wants to do his own thing.’

‘He’s a man, what do you expect?’ Constance remarked, a bleak smile flashing across her face. Then she added, ‘But let’s look at it in another way, Alicia. Bryan could have just broken it off, walked away. He didn’t have to put thousands of miles between the two of you …’ Constance cut her sentence short, looking thoughtful yet again. ‘Unless he did it to prevent himself from coming back to you; in case he’d be tempted to reconcile, knowing he was unable to resist you.’

A startled look flickered in Alicia’s blue eyes, and she exclaimed, ‘Why would he want to have me back? I just told you how … harsh he was. Here’s the thing, Connie. I believe he had been planning to break up with me for a while. Just consider how sneaky he was about his clothes, saying he was taking them to the cleaners. He was probably packing his suitcases.’

‘True enough. Look, if he left anything behind, be it a tie, a book, anything at all, just get rid of it. Send it back or, better still, throw it away. Reminders of a man can be bothersome.’

‘Thank you for thinking of that. There are a few bits and pieces. I’ll mail the stuff to his flat.’

‘Don’t waste the postage; he’s gone, sailed away. Throw the things in the dustbin. Get him out of your life. You’ve got to move on. Now. At once.’

‘I’ve decided to go to Cavendon, get out of the flat. There’s too much of Brin there at the moment.’

‘Good idea. And stay there for the next ten days. Now that the picture has been postponed for two weeks, for those important rewrites, you can relax, go over your lines – although, knowing you, they’re already committed to memory.’

Alicia smiled for the first time that day. ‘Yes, they are.’

‘You must think of the future,’ Constance announced, her voice suddenly firmer, more decisive. ‘I know Felix told you that the associate producer is a big fan of yours. He’s hinted to Felix that he might want you for his next production. There’s a lot to look forward to, darling. And you mustn’t moon over Bryan Mellor. He’s a lost cause.’

At the other side of London, at Photo Elite’s office on the Fulham Road, Victoria stood in the office of Michael Sutton, owner and head of the agency, listening to him carefully.

When he had finished, she exclaimed, ‘I don’t like what you’re saying, Mike. You’re actually suggesting that you’re troubled by the fact I’m living with a man because you promised Paloma Swann you’d keep an eye on me. That’s it, isn’t it?’

He nodded. ‘I also promised your aunt the same thing, and these rumours I’ve been hearing are worrisome. I do feel a certain sense of responsibility, you know.’

‘You can stop at once. Aunt Alice and Paloma have Charlie Stanton and Greta Chalmers keeping an eye on me, and that’s already too many people.’ Throwing him a cold, hard stare she added, ‘I am disappointed in you; I thought you knew what kind of girl I am. Someone’s spreading bad things about me, things which are not true.’

Michael went bright red, the flush starting in his neck and flooding up into his face, and he looked chagrined. ‘I ought to know better – shouldn’t listen to a bit of odd office gossip,’ he muttered, feeling like an idiot.

‘The man I was seen with, well over a week ago now, was Declan O’Sullivan, the actor. He happens to live in the flat above me. The other Saturday he and I were leaving at the same time and he gave me a lift, since we were both coming down to Chelsea.’

Michael knew she was extremely angry and he didn’t blame her. He’d been foolish to listen to a disgruntled member of staff, never mind bringing it up with her. Taking a deep breath, he said contritely, ‘I’m very sorry, Victoria. I made a mistake. I hope you’ll accept my apology.’

‘Yes, I will,’ she answered at once, not wanting any problems to linger with her boss. She wondered if she should tell him about Phil Dayton watching her building at times, and decided against it.

Michael said, ‘I have an assignment for you which I know you’re going to like. That was the real reason I wanted to see you today.’

‘Oh.’ She paused, giving him a quizzical look. ‘What is it?’

‘Photographing Alicia Stanton for Elegance Magazine. It’s your big chance. Your first solo job.’

A smile settled on Victoria’s face. ‘When? I know she’s about to start a new film.’

‘Apparently shooting starts a bit later now. I’ve been told there’s some rewriting on the script to be done. Shall I accept? Will you do it?’

‘Of course I will … I’ve known her since I was a little girl.’

He grinned, glad that her anger had subsided. She was his favourite. Everybody’s favourite, in fact. How could he have been so foolish? Listening to pettifogging gossip like that. I’m stupid, he added under his breath. Plain bloody stupid.

It was seven when Victoria left the agency. She glanced up at the sky as she went out onto Fulham Road and saw that it was heavy with dark clouds; rain threatened. After developing negatives for several hours, she was tired, and pleased to climb on to the top deck of the bus, where she relaxed and turned her thoughts to photographing Alicia. She was aware it would be a wonderful project, that she could get some unique shots because she knew Cavendon and its secret places so well.

As the bus wound its way through the London streets, past the gaping holes and the endless rebuilding that had begun, she couldn’t believe that she had earned her first proper assignment. Her thoughts were still on the new job when she walked slowly up Belsize Park Gardens. It was a long commute from the Fulham Road to here, especially on a rainy evening. Suddenly she stiffened. There it was again. Phil Dayton’s grey Vauxhall parked a little further up the street.

Immediately caution kicked in. She turned and ran back down towards the main road, where a cab with its light on was passing. Hailing it, Victoria opened the cab door and jumped in. ‘Quick! I need to be somewhere else right away,’ she exclaimed to the driver.

‘No bovver, miss,’ the Cockney said. ‘Where to then?’

‘Phene Street,’ she answered. ‘The far end.’ Then she sat back, crouching down a bit as they passed the grey car.

She was not only infuriated but a little bit afraid. Phil Dayton’s obsession with her, for that was what it was, was abnormal. And tonight it had become troubling. She didn’t relish the idea of being in her flat knowing he was sitting out there. It was too creepy.

As a child she had not only learned caution and wariness, but also to anticipate trouble, and therefore to be on her guard, always prepared. These traits were now ingrained in her.