Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that her producer, Nathan Hurd, had planted his hands on his hips, a sure sign that he was displeased. He hated it when she admitted on the air that one of their shows wasn't wonderful, but her famous royai guest on the last program had been incredibly long-winded and even her most impertinent questions hadn't livened him up. Unfortunately, that program, unlike the one they were now taping, had been broadcast live, so they hadn't been able to redo it.
"With me this evening are four attractive young people, all of them children of famous peers of the British realm. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to grow up knowing that your life has already been mapped out for you? Do young royals ever feel like rebelling? Let's ask."
Francesca introduced her four guests, who were comfortably seated in the attractive living room arrangement that approximated the New York studio set where "Francesca Today" was normally taped. Then she turned her attention to the only child of one of Great Britain's most renowned dukes. "Lady Jane, have you ever thought about chucking family tradition and running off with the chauffeur?"
Lady Jane laughed, then blushed, and Francesca knew she had the beginnings of an entertaining show.
Two hours later, with the taping finished and her young guests' responses lively enough to keep the ratings up, Francesca stepped out of her taxi and entered the Con-naught. Most Americans regarded Claridge's as the ultimate London hotel, but as someone who didn't want to be away from home in the first place, Francesca felt that the better choice was the tiny Connaught, which had only ninety rooms,
the best service in the world, and a minimal chance of running into a rock star in the corridor.
Her tiny frame was swathed from chin to midcalf in an elegant black Russian sable, which was set off
by a pair of perfect pear-shaped four-carat diamond stud earrings that sparkled through the windblown chestnut of her hair. The lobby, with its Oriental rugs and dark-paneled walls, was warm and inviting
after the damp December streets of Mayfair. A magnificent staircase covered by a brass-bordered carpet circled upward six stories, its mahogany banisters gleaming with polish. Although she was exhausted from a hectic week, she managed a smile for the hall porter. The head of every man in the lobby turned as she made her way to the small elevator located near the desk, but she didn't notice.
Beneath the elegance of the sable and the expensive dazzle of the pear-shaped studs, Francesca's clothing was frankly funky. She had changed from her more conservative on-camera outfit into the clothes she had worn to the studio that morning-cropped, tight-fitting black leather pants accompanied by an oversize raspberry sweater appliqued with a taupe teddy bear. Matching raspberry socks, neatly folded over at the tops, set off a pair of Susan Bennis flats. It was an outfit that Teddy especially liked, since cuddly-looking bears and leather-clad motorcycle gangs were among his favorite things. She frequently wore it when they went out for the day, whether to raid F.A.O. Schwarz for a chemistry set, to visit the Temple of Dendur at the Metropolitan, or to pay a call on a slimy-looking pretzel vendor in Times Square whose wares, Teddy insisted, were the best in Manhattan.
Despite her exhaustion, the thought of Teddy made Francesca smile. She missed him so much. It was awful being separated from her child, so awful that she had been seriously thinking about cutting down on her work schedule when her contract came up for renewal in the spring. What good was it to have a child if she couldn't spend time with him? The veil of depression that had been hanging over her for months settled lower. She had been so short-tempered lately, a sure sign that she was working too hard. But she hated to slow down when everything was going so well.
Stepping out of the elevator, she glanced at her watch and made a quick calculation. Yesterday Holly Grace had taken Teddy to Naomi's house, and today they were supposed to go to the South Street Seaport Museum. Maybe she could catch him before he left. She frowned as she remembered that Holly Grace had told her Dallas Beaudine was coming to New York. After all these years, the idea of Teddy and Dallie in the same town still made her nervous. It wasn't that she feared recognition; God knew there wasn't anything about Teddy that would remind Dallie of himself. It was simply that she disliked the thought of Dallie having anything to do with her son.
She slipped her sable over a satin-covered hanger and hung it in the closet. Then she placed a call to
New York. To her delight, Teddy answered the phone.
"Day residence. Theodore speaking."
Just the sound of his voice made Francesca's eyes mist. "Hello, baby."
"Mom! Guess what, Mom? I went to Naomi's yesterday and Gerry showed up, and him and Holly
Grace had another fight. Today she's taking me to the South Street Seaport, and then we're going to her apartment and order Chinese. And you know my friend Jason…"
Francesca smiled as she listened to Teddy rattle on. When he finally paused for breath, she said, "I miss you, honey. Remember, I'll be home in a few days, and then we'll have two whole weeks of vacation together in Mexico. We're going to have such a good time." It was to be her first real vacation since she had signed her contract with the network, and the two of them had been looking forward to it for months.
"Will you swim in the ocean this time?"
"I'll wade," she conceded.
He gave a scornful masculine snort. "At least go up to your waist."
"I'll compromise on my knees, but no farther."
"You're really a chicken, Mom," he said solemnly. "A lot more chicken than me."
"You're absolutely right about that."
"Are you studying for your citizenship exam?" he said. "The last time I asked you the test questions,
you messed up the whole part about bills getting passed into law."
"I'll study on the plane," she promised. Applying for American citizenship was something she had postponed far too long. She had always been too busy, too tightly scheduled, until one day she realized that she had lived in the country for ten years and had never cast a ballot. She had been ashamed of herself and, with Teddy helping her, had begun the lengthy application process that same week.
"I love you big heaps, honey," she said.
"Me, too."
"And will you be especially nice to Holly Grace tonight? I don't expect you to understand, but it upsets her when she sees Gerry."
"I don't know why. Gerry's cool."
Francesca was too wise to try to explain the subtleties of male-female relationships to a nine-year-old
boy, especially one who thought all girls were jerks. "Just be extra nice to her, sweetie," she said.
When she had finished her phone call, she undressed and began getting ready for her evening with
Prince Stefan Marko Brancuzi. Wrapping herself in a silk robe, she walked into the tiled bathroom where plump cakes of her favorite soap sat by the roomy tub, along with her customary brand of American shampoo. The Connaught made it their business to know their guests' grooming preferences, along with the papers they read, how they wanted their coffee in the morning, and, in Francesca's case, the fact that Teddy collected bottle caps. A supply of unusual European beer caps always awaited her in a neatly tied parcel when she checked out. She'd never quite had the heart to tell them that Teddy's idea of collecting bottle caps was based more on quantity than on quality, with Pepsi currently beating out Coke by 394.
She eased herself into the hot bathwater and when her skin had adjusted to the temperature, settled back and shut her eyes. God, she was tired. She needed a vacation so badly. A small voice nagged at her, asking how much longer she was going to go on like this-leaving her child to fly all over the world at the drop of a hat, attending endless production meetings, skimming stacks of books every night before she went to sleep? Lately Holly Grace and Naomi had been with Teddy more than she had.