CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Why,
oh why, won’t he see me?” wailed Nina Fox, “Whatever they were arguing about,
it couldn’t possibly have been me so why won’t he tell me?”
“Of
course it was about you,” snapped her mother, “What else but a woman would two
grown men quarrel over that results in one killing the other?”
“But
there was nothing, ever, between Ray and me. We were just good friends, that’s
all.”
“Tell
that to the press.” Pat Fox sighed, “Not that anyone will believe you. You’re a
scarlet woman, my dear, like it or not. Still…” She gave a cynical sigh, “it
probably won’t do your career any harm.”
“How
can you say that, Mum, when poor Nathan is…Oh, but this is a nightmare, a
nightmare…! I can’t believe Nathan would or could kill anyone. He’s such a
quiet, gentle man.”
“It’s
the quiet ones you have to watch or so my mother used to say,” Pat Fox remarked
despairingly. She had come to give her daughter sympathy and support, but
somehow all was not going to plan. Every time she opened her mouth, the wrong
words tumbled out as if she had precious little control over her own
vocabulary. She tried again. “People used to say your father was a quiet,
gentle man and look at him…” She swore inwardly/ “If Nathan has a violent
streak perhaps it’s better to find out sooner rather than later…”
“Better
for whom, Mother? Not poor Ray, that’s for sure.”
“I
didn’t mean…”
“I
know what you meant, mother. You never liked Nathan from the start…”
“I
don’t dislike him,” her mother protested weakly.
“You
could have fooled me.”
“Never
mind all that now, dear. We have to face facts. Nathan has admitted to killing
Ray Bannister and is facing a murder charge, manslaughter at the very least.
Whatever, he will be going to prison for a very long time. Meanwhile, you have
to be strong and get on with your life.”
“And
what about me, where do I fit in?” a small voice mumbled from the doorway.
Neither woman had heard or noticed young Pip enter the room.
“Pip…!”
Nina flew to the child and hugged her. Pip submitted passively, glaring at Pat
Fox over Nina’s shoulder. “You’ll stay with me of course,” she declared
impulsively and almost had second thoughts on the spot until her mother
intervened.
“Don’t
be ridiculous, Nina. You can’t possibly take on a child.”
“I’m
not a child, I’m nearly fifteen,” Pip said quietly.
“She’s
not your responsibility, Nina. Let Social Services decide what to do with her, they’ll
know best.”
“What
to do with her?” Nina raged at her mother, “You talk as if she’s a piece of
unwanted furniture to be disposed of one way or another. Well, she isn’t, she’s
a child. More to the point, she’s Nathan’s child. He’d want me to look after
her.”
“Oh,
and what about your career...? He’d like to see that go down the pan, too, would
he? Besides, doesn’t he have a say in
this burst of maternal responsibility?”
“He
refuses to see me.”
“Quite.
At least he has the sense to draw a line under your relationship and so should
you. See sense, darling, and cut your losses,” she began to plead, “I feel
sorry for the child too, of course I do, but you can’t do this Nina, you simply
can’t.”
“I
don’t want to go into care,” said Pip in the same quiet, almost toneless voice
that she had adopted since her father’s arrest.
“Nor
will you,” Nina promised and hugged her tightly, “I’ll see to that.”
“Over
my dead body,” fumed her mother, instantly regretting her choice of words yet
again and promptly left the room, flustered and angry.
“We’ll
be best friends, you and me, right?” Nina put to the girl.
“Okay,”
said Pip.
“Best
friends,” Nina repeated, continuing to hold the slim form close and trying hard
to put the lack of response down to shock. The
poor kid must be terrified, she told herself although not entirely
convinced. Relations between her and Pip had, until now, been fair to
reasonable, nothing more or less. But
what choice do I have? She owed it to Nathan, surely, to look after his
daughter? The poor child had already lost her mother and brother and now her
father. But she mustn’t cry in front of Pip, she mustn’t. “I’ll be right back,”
she promised and fled the room.
Pip
wandered to the window and looked out, seeing nothing of the pretty garden. Her
father was innocent, so why had he told the police he killed Ray? It didn’t make any sense unless…He can’t have thought Nina had anything do
with it, surely? Is that why he’s lying,
to protect her? It was up to her,
Pip, to speak up…well, wasn’t it? But how could she confess to killing Ray.
Prison would be worse, much worse, than going into care or being stuck with
Nina. It should be Nina going to prison for murder. That has been the plan. “I
hate her, I hate her,” the girl muttered between clenched teeth. If only Nina
hadn’t been delayed or Max Cutler hadn’t been at the flat. If only…Max and Ray
hadn’t argued. If only…she, Pip, hadn’t tried to take advantage of the situation,
only to watch it fall apart before her very eyes.
Pip
sighed. Of one thing at least she was certain. She must say nothing. But she
would get her revenge. Oh, yes, she would make them suffer. Max, Nina, that horrible Pat Fox…I’ll show
them. And what of her father, what there?
“Poor
daddy…” she continued to voice her thoughts aloud albeit in a fearful murmur.
They won’t put him in prison forever…will
they? Her blood ran hot and cold. She almost fainted. Only the sound of a door
opening and closing forced her to stay on her feet and turn around. She even
managed a smile. “Best mates,” she agreed loudly, almost choking on the words
as Nina came towards her, arms outstretched.
Pat
Fox’s prediction proved true in so far as the glare of publicity surrounding
Ray Bannister’s murder, inquest and funeral then, months later, Nathan
Sparrow’s trial and subsequent conviction for manslaughter did Nina’s career no
harm at all. April Showers, already scheduled for the axe, took on a new
lease of life and its popularity, along with that of its star, leapt in the
ratings. Thanks to a new panel of scriptwriters and a talented supporting cast,
Nina’s delighted manager was soon able to negotiate a substantial rise in
salary. Nina herself bathed in mixed reviews, more concerned with her personal
life than her acting ability, and was soon able to afford a luxury apartment in
Chelsea. She and Pip moved in, once more under the spotlight of certain
tabloids, and Pip took over the day-to-day running of the place as well as
remaining at her old school.
Nina
was more than happy to let the Nathan’s daughter do much as she pleased and
wasn’t ungrateful. She laughingly called Pip her domestic affairs manager and
paid her a generous allowance. They enjoyed, or so Nina thought, a warm almost
sisterly relationship although, somehow, she never felt completely at ease
around the girl. How can I, she’d
reason with her conscience at least twice a day? Nathan Sparrow’s seven-year
jail sentence hung over them like a heavy cloud; there were times she imagined
she only had to reach up, poke a finger, burst it and drown in the ensuing
flood.
While
Nathan’s persistent refusal to see her continued to cause her pain, Nina
settled for making the best of things. All of these considered, she was happy
enough, if only for keeping busy and being constantly spotted in the street and
pestered for her autograph. This had happened before of course, but only on
occasions, never to this extent. Oh, but
how she loved and hated the attention!
Pip
had gone to the cinema with a school friend on the evening Max Cutler first
turned up, unannounced and unexpected, at the Chelsea apartment. Nina had never
particularly liked the man nor had she set eyes on him since Ray Bannister’s
funeral but she was feeling low with a bad cold, awfully bored, and greeted him
at the door with a dazzling smile. “Why, Max. How nice! Do come in. Well, well,
this is a surprise. I haven’t seen you since…” her voice faltered as it always
did whenever anything to do with her ‘situation’ was mentioned. By thinking of it as such, it helped displace
the reality. By avoiding mention of it at all, she was able to put it aside and
concentrate on the moment. “What can I offer you to drink?”
Max
seemed to sense her feelings and she was grateful to him for that. Apart from a
few initial, cursory references to their last meeting, the conversation
remained general, chatty, and almost pleasant all evening. Nina found herself
more relaxed than she had for some time. Nor, for once, was this entirely down
to numerous gin and tonics.
“You
look fantastic.”
“Thank
you. But you’re a terrible liar, Max darling. I have a rotten cold and I look
an absolute mess.”
“You
could have fooled me.”
“You
certainly know how to cheer a girl up anyway,” she laughed - and started
involuntarily. It had been a while since she had laughed spontaneously. In that
instant, she warmed to Max Cutler. “So tell me Max, what have you been doing
with yourself?”
“While
you’ve been making headlines and topping ratings?” he grinned, “Not a
lot.” He hesitated. “To be honest I’ve
been something of a recluse since…it all happened. Ray and I were good friends,
we go back a long way. I suppose the police grilled you too?” She nodded,
sipped her drink and refused to look at him. Max saw he was treading on
dangerously thin ice. Reluctant to undermine Nina’s welcome, whose warmth had
both flattered and surprised him, he settled for a cheeky grin and forced a
chuckle. “But you can’t keep a bad penny down for long. I decided it’s high
time I surfaced and got on with my life.”
“Starting
with me?” Nina made no attempt to conceal her cynicism.
“Why
not…? A man has to start somewhere, why not with a beautiful woman?”
“Are
you making a pass at me?” she giggled.
“Do
you want me to?” he countered mischievously.
Not really, Nina thought, but avoided
saying so. Instead, she contemplated this handsome, charming creep and decided
that, yes, he would do, for now at least.
Throwing herself into work and boring parties
was all very well but all work and no play was such a frightfully dull way to
live. Besides, Nina smiled inwardly, a girl couldn’t keep going to parties on
her own or the damn tabloids would soon get bored too, if they weren’t already.
She frowned, fancying she’d noticed a subtle lack of interest in her affairs
lately as far as the papers were concerned. The glossies could always be relied
on to dredge up a load of eye-catching drivel of course, punctuated by
photographs she tirelessly posed for according to the rules of the fame game.
Her face lit up. Suddenly, she wanted more than this constant round of
bullshit. She loved Nathan Sparrow in spite of what he had done to her, to Pip,
to Ray, to all of them. Only, Nathan wasn’t here and Max Cutler was…so…what the
heck?
“Did
you come here just to chat or to seduce me?” she asked directly and was tickled
pink to glimpse the hint of a blush among the designer stubble.
“Do
you want me to seduce you?”
He
was no less direct than her and Nina was surprised how much she genuinely
wanted, suddenly, to sleep with the man.
It
seemed ages since she’d had sex. There had been countless opportunities, most
of them rejected with polite contempt. Some men she had brought home; with
others she had gone, not exactly unwillingly, to their appalling houses or
apartments they actually had the gall to believe could impress anyone.
Invariably she had been drunk or they had. But she and alcohol were old
friends. She had always been able to take more than most and stay on her feet.
Whatever, nothing much had happened. Her alter ego had seen to that. What the
press chose to make of these occasions was something else of course.
Frequently, over black coffees and toast at breakfast, she’d been in fits of
near hysterical laughter for reading about this escapade or that with the
latest in an interminable line of desirable men. Desirable, was that what she
meant? She corrected herself. They had been available, that was all, and she
had used them just as they had tried to use her, if not more so. Naturally, she
had been subtle if not, exactly, discreet. Wasn’t she, after all, practically a
grieving widow? Certainly, she was a dumped fiancée in shock. But she couldn’t
be expected to keep up appearances forever, could she?
“You
can hardly seduce me while you’re sitting over there and I’m sitting here like
a bloody lemon,” she giggled again, “so why don’t we go into the bedroom and
you can show me what I’ve been missing?”
Max
roared with laughter and Nina joined in. Of one accord they rose, went to each
other and embraced, still rocking with laughter even as they kissed.
That
was how Pip found them when she returned to what Nina liked to call “home”.
Neither heard her enter or noticed her standing in the doorway, a slight,
vulnerable figure with the strangest expression on her face.
Having
refused to take time off school to attend Ray Bannister’s funeral, this was the
first time Pip had seen Max Cutler since she’d watched him stab his lover in
the chest then flee in panic. She had often wondered whether or not he believed
he’d killed Ray and what sense, if any, he made of her father’s
confession. Now, here he was, as cool as
you please, one foot in Nina’s bed if she, Pip, was any judge of a situation.
She coughed politely and was amused to see them spring apart like a pair of
school kids caught out sharing a needle behind the bicycle sheds.
“Pip,
I didn’t see you there…” cried Nina but quickly regained her composure. “Look
who’s dropped in to say hello. You remember Max, of course?”
“Of
course,” said Pip with a thin smile, “But I’m off to bed. Have fun you two…”
she called and ran upstairs.
Not
until she heard the girl’s bedroom door click shut did Nina turn her attention,
a trifle self-consciously, back to Max. “We have someone’s blessing at any
rate,” she joked but neither laughed.
The spectre of Nathan Sparrow loomed between them and neither quite knew
how to be rid of it. “Pip has the right idea,” Nina murmured cryptically, “I’m
for bed too. You, darling, can do as you damn well please.”
Max
helped himself to another large scotch and sat down in the same armchair Nina
had vacated only minutes before. He could still feel her warmth, smell her
perfume and taste her kiss on his tongue. She would be a fine catch. He
grinned, well aware that he was no minnow himself. Good looks, oodles of charm
and his late father’s fortune - even if his mother manipulated the purse
strings for now, damn her - saw to it that he enjoyed a lively lifestyle. Well,
most of the time. His smug expression clouded over.
He
hadn’t meant to kill Ray. Ray was a good bloke, the best, one of the few true
friends he’d ever had. If only I hadn’t
panicked and ran but called for an ambulance, maybe Ray would still be alive.
As for Nathan Sparrow’s confession, it defied belief. Either the man was a
crank or…he believed someone else had killed Ray. If so, it had to be Nina. The
same idea must have occurred to Nina herself so why hadn’t she spoken up? By
all accounts, Sparrow wouldn’t even see her. It was weird, no doubt about that.
But it had got him off the hook so why should he concern himself? Hadn’t he
wasted enough sleepless nights already, waking up the next morning feeling so
bloody awful he’d invariably turn over and spend a similarly sleepless day
running through that fatal evening at Ray’s flat in his mind time and time and
time again? But he was over all that now...wasn’t he? Sparrow was behind bars.
It was time for Max Cutler to do what he did best, grab himself a life. Much as
he hated to admit it, he needed someone, anyone, to help him get back on his
feet. Discovering cocaine helped…or had
it? Whatever, he needed that
too. But not right now. Right now, he was about to rediscover that ancient art
to which the likes of Max Cutler were born. Nina
bloody Fox, too, if I’m not mistaken.
Nina
lay stark naked, on the bed and watched him undress. He shed his clothes like a
chameleon slyly changing its colour until he stood before her, a pale god,
feasting on her undisguised contempt. “You could use a good tan,” she commented
dryly.
He
climbed on the bed beside her. “Anyone can get a tan,” he replied with a boyish
grin that, despite a faint repulsion for the man, Nina found engaging. “Never
trust a ship that sails under false colours.”
“And
should I trust you?” she murmured, half teasingly, as his arms closed around
her straining body and his mouth descended on hers.
Max said nothing.
To be continued on Monday
