Plain Jane in the Spotlight

CHAPTER TEN

AS SOON as they reached home Travis put on the television, as he always did, to catch up with the news. Almost at once he tensed, staring at the screen.

‘Isn’t that-?’ Charlene gasped.

‘That’s my father,’ he confirmed, turning up the sound.

‘…people who remember Amos Falcon from the old days are intrigued to see him in action again, and this conference in New York…’

Dazed, Travis sat down on the sofa, his eyes fixed on the screen. Charlene sat beside him, trying to imagine how this would be affecting him.

It seemed that Amos Falcon had been in New York for three days, during which time he had attended meetings and socialised with men as wealthy as himself. The only thing he hadn’t done was contact his son in Los Angeles.

Suddenly she felt Travis grow even more tense. Another man had appeared on the screen. He was in his thirties, had a facial resemblance to Amos and seemed on the best of terms with him.

‘…his son, Darius Falcon, who once seemed to have withdrawn from the world of finance, but who’ll be joining his father in this new opportunity…’

The item ended. Travis sat frozen.

‘He’s in New York,’ he murmured. ‘What time is it there?’

‘Three hours ahead of us,’ Charlene said. ‘He should be in bed by now.’

‘A good time to call him, then. No, wait.’

He began clicking buttons on his cellphone, looking for a message, Charlene thought. But there was nothing.

‘They didn’t say where he was staying,’ she said. ‘So where could you call him? Perhaps someone in his home would know. If you called-’

‘No!’ Travis interrupted her violently. ‘Never.’

Of course he wasn’t going to advertise that his father had ignored him, Charlene thought, blaming herself for thoughtlessness.

Travis named a hotel. ‘He’s always stayed there in the past.’

He dialled a number. Charlene moved quietly away. She had a horrible fear of what was about to happen, and knew he would hate anyone to see it.

But she left her bedroom door open and heard him say, ‘Fine, when he comes in would you give him a message? I’ll give you my home number and my cellphone. Any time will do, night or day.’

He hung up and turned to see her standing in the door.

‘Goodnight,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a long, tiring day.’

His message was plain. He’d spoken often of their closeness and his reliance on her, yet she could not help him now.

Quietly she closed the door.

Twice more during the night she rose and looked out discreetly. He was still there, silent and motionless. Never once did the phone ring.

There could be a simple answer. Amos might have stayed out overnight, or returned late and noted the message for later. The call would come. Surely it must.

Over breakfast she asked for the latest news, not revealing how much she knew.

‘I fell asleep,’ Travis said indifferently. ‘If the phone rang I might not have heard it.’

Her heart was heavy as she saw him off to work. Instinct warned her to fear the worst. She knew of Travis’s feeling of isolation, of being shut out from the heart of the family. He was obsessively aware of his father’s indifference to him, bordering on contempt. Now she saw the reality.

Amos had come to the country where his son lived but hadn’t contacted him, or even told him in advance. When Travis reached out he’d made no response. And Travis had been forced to watch him with brother Darius, the favoured son, as he himself would never be.

But Amos would call. He must. He would probably use the cellphone and contact Travis at the studio. But just in case he dialled the landline she would stay in all day.

Hours went past in silence. In the early afternoon the phone rang and she seized it up.

‘It’s me,’ said Travis’s voice. ‘Have there been any phone calls?’

‘No.’

‘I see. All right. I’ll see you tonight.’

He came home early, questioned her with a look, and shrugged when she shook her head. He settled on the sofa, watching television news, seeking further information about Amos. But there was nothing.

She brought him some coffee. ‘You look tired-’

The phone rang.

Their eyes met, sharing the same brilliant hope. He grabbed the phone.

‘Hello? Father! Good to hear from you. I heard you were over here. Maybe we could meet. I can get a couple of days off to fly to New York-what’s that? Oh, I see. Well, in that case-’

Curse Amos Falcon, she thought wildly. Curse him for daring to hurt Travis.

It broke her heart to see Travis’s face as hope died from it, leaving behind a dismal nothing.

The phone call ended. He stayed sitting on the sofa as though too weary ever to move again.

‘What happened?’ she asked, going to sit beside him.

‘He’s on his way back to Monte Carlo,’ Travis said in a blank voice. ‘He called me from the airport.’

‘Damn him!’

He shrugged. ‘I mean nothing to him. Why should he pretend otherwise? Right, that’s it. Time to be realistic. I think I’ll go out. Don’t wait up!’

‘Can’t I come with you?’

‘No, it won’t be the sort of evening that you’d enjoy.’

‘Hey, stop there! Be careful. If you end up in a nightclub with a floozie it’ll do you more damage than you could cope with.’

‘No women, I promise, just-’

‘Just too much to drink, huh?’

‘Maybe just a little.’

She had a vision of the evening ahead if she left him unprotected. It wouldn’t be like last night when he’d got faintly tipsy before going quietly home with her. This time there would be a little indulgence, then a lot, more and more. The word would go around, people would text and his enemies would be alerted. Suddenly everyone who wanted to damage him would converge.

‘No way,’ she said, taking hold of him. ‘Don’t even think of leaving.’

But he eased away from her.

‘I’m going,’ he said. ‘I know you mean it kindly, but I can’t shelter behind you for ever.’

‘Travis, don’t do this. It’s dangerous.’

‘That’s for me to say. A man’s entitled to behave badly sometimes.’

‘Sure he is. And you behave as badly as you want, but do it here, with me. No witnesses. And if anyone asks if you behaved badly I’ll lie my head off.’

‘But that’s just another way of sheltering behind you. Don’t try to control me, Charlene.’

In despair she stayed where she was on the sofa, leaning forward with her head in her hands. This was what it had come to. She couldn’t really help him at all.

‘Come on, don’t make so much of it,’ he said, sitting beside her. ‘I won’t be long, but maybe it’s time I let go of your apron strings. Hey, are you crying?’

‘No,’ she said huskily.

‘Yes, you are. It’ll be all right, I promise.’

She looked at him, defenceless, tears pouring down her cheeks. ‘Please,’ she choked. ‘Please don’t do this. They’ll be waiting for you. They always are.’

‘Don’t you think that sounds a bit paranoid?’

‘Yes. I am paranoid. Sometimes paranoid is the right thing to be. Please, Travis, don’t go. I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying to stop you losing everything.’

‘I won’t-’

‘You will, you will. Oh, goodness, how can you throw it all away? Please-please-’

She was swamped by a sense of helplessness. His father’s behaviour had had an unnerving effect on Travis, seeming to imbue him with a sense of self-destruction, so that only rebellion would calm his spirit. He would pay a heavy price for it, and she, who’d vowed to protect him, could do nothing. Her weeping became more desperate.

‘Don’t cry,’ he said, brushing his fingers against her cheek. ‘Please, Charlene, don’t cry. I can’t bear it. Look…look I-’ There was a long silence.

She looked up, her eyes meeting his as she raised a tentative hand to touch his face.

‘Don’t go,’ she whispered. ‘Please don’t go.’

‘Charlene, what-?’

‘Don’t go.’

Now her fingertips were touching his mouth, drifting back and forth so that tremors went through him. Suddenly he seized her hand, kissing the palm fiercely, looking up with a question in his eyes.

‘Please,’ she murmured.

He gave a sudden groan. ‘All right, I give in. I’ll do whatever you want. You’re the boss lady.’

She looked at him, unable to believe it. The feelings that had risen and swamped her made the tears flow more than ever.

‘Don’t,’ he begged. ‘Don’t… Look…come here.’

His arms tightened about her, his lips brushed her wet cheeks.

‘It’s all right,’ he said fiercely, ‘it’s all right. I’ll do anything you want. Just tell me and I’ll do it.’

‘I just want you to be safe,’ she whispered.

‘And I will be safe, as long as I have you.’

‘You’ll always have me.’

‘Look at me,’ he murmured, lifting her chin with his fingers.

There was a dark light in his eyes, not the anger that had been there before, but one that seemed to open a new door. If only she knew-

Their mouths were close and she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips. Scarcely knowing what she did, she moved until they brushed softly against each other. It was the faintest touch, yet it was enough to bring back the moment on the beach when he had kissed her. She was shaking now as she had been then, and so was he. Now she sensed in him the same mixture of reactions-joy, disbelief, wonder, confusion-as she sensed in herself.

He lowered his mouth to touch hers more completely. Even then he was hesitant, but only for a moment, until he read the message of tender willingness in her lips, her hands touching his face. The wild excitement that had taken them by storm on the beach was there, but still lurking in the shadows, tempting them on with the promise of sweet discoveries, when they should have the courage to make them.

‘Charlene-’ He drew back a fraction. ‘Do you think-?’

‘Hush. What I think is…that this is no time for thinking.’

He hesitated only a moment, as if needing to be quite sure. Then he rose slowly, taking her hand for the short journey to his room. The huge windows, looking down over the lights of the city, were uncovered. But they didn’t draw the curtains across. There was no need. Up here, in the dark, nobody could see them as their clothes fell away.

For a while, lying on the bed, they were strangely still, silently asking each other questions, seeking answers, happy when they found them. Then the first movements, tentative, discovering each other, realising that all was well.

His touch was gentle, fingers drifting across her naked skin, pausing, exploring slowly as though ready to retreat, but never doing so. She was glad of that. If he had stopped now she would have been devastated. She tried to convey her feelings through her own fingertips, caressing him softly, letting him know that this was right, perfect. The moment when she became his was the sweetest of her life.

Afterwards there was peace, the joyous satisfaction of lying back with his head on her chest, both of them totally still. In a few moments she was asleep.

She awoke in the early hours to find Travis restless, moving here and there as though desperately seeking something. His eyes were closed and his breathing deep. He still slept, but even in the depths of sleep something was disturbing him.

She touched him gently and at once he grew still. After a moment he moved again, reaching out until his hands encountered her, touched her face, her eyes, her lips.

‘I’m here,’ she whispered. ‘I’m here beside you.’

Slowly she felt the tension drain from him. A long sigh came softly from his lips. He turned so that his head was resting on her shoulder, and after that he never moved again until they awoke together in the early morning.

He rested on his elbows to look down at her.

‘Is everything all right?’ he asked.

‘Everything’s fine with me. Did you have a good night’s sleep?’

‘I did in the end. I don’t know what happened. I was restless for a while. I wanted to wake up but I couldn’t make it happen. But then suddenly all the trouble vanished and everything was peaceful.’

‘Dreams can be like that,’ she whispered.

He stroked her face. ‘Was it just a dream? Charlene, I don’t know how to say this, but-’

‘Then don’t say it,’ she whispered, her finger over his lips. ‘Not now.’

He rose from the bed, divided by two conflicting desires, to be close to her, feeling her warmth and comfort enfold him again, and to be alone with his confused thoughts.

Which of them, he wondered, had led the other into the bedroom? He’d been the first to rise to his feet, take her hand and draw her after him. But he knew he would never have done so if he hadn’t felt her willingness, sensed that she was urging him to take action and would be disappointed if he didn’t.

So who had led who?

But there was another question, more urgent, more worrying.

Last night she had rescued him, as so often before. But who was the woman who had come into his bed? Charlene, the lover who had touched his heart? Or Charlie, the sister and protector who pandered to his needs like a nursemaid?

And if it was the second, might there not be a tiny hint of contempt in her kindness?

That thought made him shiver.

Over the next few days Charlene had the feeling that Travis had changed towards her. He never spoke of the passion they had shared, nor did his manner invite her to speak of it. He seemed uneasy in her company, as though he felt they’d come too close and was trying to step back. Several times he took her out to dinner, but always with other friends present. It was as though he didn’t want to be alone with her.

She waited, hoping that he would open his arms to her and take her again into his bed, where they could rediscover the tenderness that had been so special. Then she would know what it had really meant.

But she waited in vain. Travis seemed to have put their lovemaking behind them as completely as if it had never happened. Sometimes she would look up to find him regarding her with a strange questioning expression. But when he saw her glance he would immediately begin to talk about something unimportant.

With pain and dismay, she realised that he’d turned to her, not in love but in need. She could give him something he’d found nowhere else, but he wasn’t ready for the next step. Perhaps he never would be.

But she refused to give up hope yet. It would take time for them to find each other, but she would be patient. There was everything to gain.

A location shoot caused him to be away in Washington for several nights. His calls home were cheerful, but left her wondering if he was glad to be away from her. Perhaps she would know everything when she saw him again.

But when she met him and Joe at the airport there had been a development that briefly blotted out everything else.

‘I’ve had a call from Marcel,’ he said. ‘His wedding is next week.’

‘Next week?’

‘Yes, it’s got to be fitted in with some money-making project.’

‘How does the bride feel about that?’

Travis grinned. ‘I should have mentioned; it’s her money-making project. So next week we’re off to Paris.’

‘Can you get time off?’ she asked.

Travis looked over his shoulder to Joe, walking just behind them. ‘You said there’d be no problem, didn’t you?’

‘Sure thing,’ announced Joe. ‘Great PR stuff. You’re a Falcon among Falcons. Big names. Lots of spotlight. Go to Paris, have a great time and do your stuff, both of you.’

The next few days were hectic. Travis devoted himself to filming while Charlene went on a shopping binge, accompanied by Julia, whose advice was expert.

She remembered their first evening in Los Angeles, discussing Shakespeare and the time she’d played the role of Helena.

Another unwanted female, she thought. She spends most of the play trailing after her lover, begging him not to reject her. He comes back to her in the end, but only because someone has cast a magic spell on him. That’s not the same as the real thing. Strange how I always got that sort of part.

But was it really strange? she wondered. The plain one. The girl chosen as a last resort. The one with whom the hero would ‘make do’. That had been her on the stage, and was it now, perhaps, coming true in her life?

Travis might one day come to love her a little, but not as she loved him. If there was one thing certain in the universe, it was that. He might make do with her. Children, stability, the feeling of being wanted for himself and not for his fame. These things were what he yearned for, and to win them he could decide to do without romantic love.

One of Helena’s lines came back to her.

Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind.

Travis’s eyes must have told him that she was plain, despite his kind remarks about her figure. His mind had told him that she had qualities of sympathy and understanding that he needed. But could that substitute for love?

Her own love had looked not with eyes that could be distracted by his handsome appearance, but with a mind and heart that saw the man who concealed himself from others, yet reached out to her. There was no way she could not have loved him.

On the day of departure he did a final session at the studio and she went with him, to be ready as soon as he’d finished. While he worked, Joe took her to the canteen. The two of them got on well, and he missed no chance to express his admiration for the service she was doing the studio.

‘Thank heavens for you,’ he said now. ‘You’re going to help him get that film part. The only reason Alaric Lanley is in the running is because he’s better known. You help to keep Travis in the headlines, and that’s good.

‘This wedding is another chance. The Falcon dynasty, the great Amos-well, OK, maybe not great. People say he’s the biggest bastard in creation, so how did he father a lovely guy like Travis? When you meet him, sweet-talk him, OK? Try to get a picture of the three of you together.’

There was serious doubt whether Amos would be there, but Charlene judged it more tactful not to mention this and slipped hastily away to powder her nose.

Returning a few minutes later, she could see that Joe was on the phone and was about to retreat when she heard him say, ‘Look, Travis, why don’t you just marry the girl? All right, all right, no need to blast my ear off-yes, I know but-Travis, will you listen to me? Charlene’s good for you. I can see how well you get on and she’ll keep you safe-there’s no need to say that-I didn’t mean to offend you. We’ll say no more.’

Now she backed away hastily. She desperately needed to be alone to come to terms with the devastating conversation.

She hadn’t heard Travis’s end, but she didn’t need to. At the thought of marrying her he’d exploded. The mere idea of it offended him. Joe had spoken of safety and ‘getting on well’. He was promoting a convenient marriage, and clearly Travis wanted none of it.

How ridiculous her dreams appeared now! All the signs had been there when they’d swapped jokes about their unromantic friendship.

‘You’re safe with me,’ she’d said. ‘You’re not my type.’

He’d pretended to be insulted, but actually he was relieved.

Marry her? How he must be laughing at the thought!

When she was finally calm enough to return, she found the call finished and Joe cheerful.

‘Travis called to say work’s finished and we need to get over there fast. He’s all ready to go and the photographers are in place.’

‘Oh…yes,’ she said uneasily.

‘What’s the matter? Why do you suddenly look like that? Not getting cold feet, are you?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Too late for that. Travis needs you.’

‘I’m ready,’ she said at once.

She couldn’t back out now without explaining why, and there was no way she could reveal what she’d just learned.

So she became an actress again, smiling for the camera, smiling for Travis, embracing him, letting him usher her into the car, waving to the little crowd that had gathered.

‘I really need this!’ he exclaimed, squeezing her hand. ‘Time off in Paris, and you all to myself.’

‘You’re always with me,’ she said lightly. ‘You need to be with your family while you have the chance.’

‘The family, yes.’ His sudden beaming look touched her heart. ‘As many of them as we can get together. Maybe all of them, I don’t know-’

She gave a theatrically blissful sigh. ‘Oh, I’m looking forward to this trip. I’ve always wanted to see Paris. And look, I can go exploring on my own if you want to spend time with your brothers with no womenfolk around.’

He eyed her ironically. ‘Nice try, but I’m keeping my eye on you at all times.’

Charlene shook her head. ‘That’s one thing you don’t need to do and you know it. Now, wave at the crowd. They’re calling to you.’

As always, he did as required, performing perfectly, while wondering exactly what she’d meant by ‘and you know it’.