“Oh. Yeah. Well, you see, there's a bloody good reason for that.”
“Yes?”
“Bloody good . . .”
Maddie and Jazz watched him try and get out of this one.
Jazz's phone rang. “Bloody hell, I can't get a thing done,” she muttered before picking it up.
“I'm going to do it,” said a voice that sounded as if it was in a mangle.
“Do what?”
“Chuck Simon, like you told me,” said George almost inaudibly.
“Jesus,” whispered Jazz in awe. “When? Where?”
For the first time she realised that a single George was as unknown territory to Jazz as it was to George herself.
“Do you think that blond bloke at the audition really liked me?” asked George.
“I'm sorry, I fail to see the significance,” said Jazz in her favourite pompous tone.
“Never mind,” answered George. “Will you come round tonight? We can talk tactics.”
“Of course,” said Jazz sincerely. She just stopped herself from saying, “It will be my pleasure.”
“Thanks,” whispered George.
“We'll be nasty about Simon together,” promised Jazz. “It'll be fun.”
“There isn't anything nasty to say about him,” said George pathetically, remembering his broad shoulders and forgetting his broad rump.
“Oh, I'm sure we'll find something,” said Jazz. “I seem to remember he only has one eyebrow. I always meant to ask you if it goes all the way round his head.”
Jazz could hear her sister smile. “See you tonight,” she said.
Jazz put the phone down and started her piece. Title - Taking Control. She finished it forty minutes later, and then read the dailies.
Chapter 4
The doorbell rang at number 5, Winchester Road, Hampstead and Sara Hayes took a last look at herself in the gilt-framed mirror.
The doorbell rang again and she went to answer the front door. She smiled at her welcome guests.
“Hello, popsie,” she said to Maxine and the two gave each other air kisses. The affection bordering on gratitude that Sara felt for her new confidante, Maxine, was as much to do with the fact that she was married, as it was to do with the fact that she was unquestionably less attractive than her. Next to Maxine, Sara looked even more stunning. Happily, Maxine's fondness for Sara was based on her friend's amazing good looks and daring single lifestyle. Next to Sara, Maxine didn't feel so married and dull. Nothing bonds some women together more than their differences.
“Charles!” exclaimed Sara as warmly as she could to Maxine's husband, whose shoulders sloped at such a sharp angle she wondered that his blazer didn't fall off.
Expensive wine was handed over and surprised delight expressed. Then they all went into the lounge, where the lights "were dimmed and some carefully selected dinner jazz was playing quietly in the background.
“Are Harry and Jack here yet?” asked Maxine, as she sank into the soft, deep plum-coloured sofas and looked round appreciatively at the large room.
“No, they're keeping us waiting, naughty boys,” winked Sara affectionately and poured out two gin and tonics.
She couldn't help but be excited. It had been two weeks since the audition and Harry was bound to reveal what parts he had given her and Maxine. She was on tenterhooks to know. She was in danger of being typecast as a bitch, which as every actor knows, is good for the short term, but if you had real ambitions, like Sara, it had to stop. This would be a golden opportunity for her to be seen to work for charity, and it could also be the chance she'd been waiting for, for over ten years, to finally work with Harry Noble. She had been desperate to work with him ever since her brother Jack had made friends with him at RADA.
Maxine cared only slightly less passionately about getting a part in the play. She used to be an actress too before she had become big in celebrity fundraising. Her little black book now had more names in it than Who's Who. But it would be nice for her to get a bit of exposure again, just like the good old days, when she and Charles Caruthers-Brown had met.
Charles had first seen Maxine in the chorus of a West End production of Forty-Second Street, and he'd been so bowled over by her that he'd sent her an enormous bouquet of red roses backstage that night. After that, he had come and seen every performance for a fortnight until she had agreed to go out with him.
It certainly wasn't love at first sight for Maxine. Charles courted her very cautiously, and eventually, after seven months, a holiday in the Bahamas on his private yacht and a diamond necklace with matching tiara, she fell head over heels in love with him. After they married, her career had taken a back seat while they did up their London home and their country home, and she'd been only too happy to get involved in some high-profile fundraising "work. She "was to be involved in the fundraising aspect of this production too, but had auditioned with the hope of getting back into the limelight — and of adding the great Harry Noble to her little black book. In fact, she couldn't quite believe that she was going to be in the same room as him tonight. Neither could Charles. Even he was a bit tense.
The doorbell rang again and the men arrived.
Everyone stood up and said, “Ah,” as they came into the lounge. Jack Hayes's smiling face appeared round the doorframe first, followed almost immediately by his tall, slender frame. He ambled in, all jollity and eagerness to please. His cheeks were as rosy as ever and his eyes shone with warmth and interest. He was a tall man, but next to Harry, he looked slight, and beside Harry's crow-black hair, his blondness looked almost silly.
The genuine pleasure that Jack exhibited at being there would have eased the tension somewhat, had it not been for Harry's seeming indifference. Jack greeted them all warmly, kissing his sister and her friend on the cheeks and shaking Charles's hand vigorously. Harry stood in the corner and nodded his greetings to them, without a smile. Everyone was delighted by him. He made no reference to having met Maxine or Charles at the auditions and, as general conversation began, he let Jack do all the talking, preferring instead to study the various ornaments in the room. Sara grew more and more irritated with her brother. Why wouldn't he shut up, so that Harry could talk? After twenty tense minutes, the hired butler came in and announced that dinner was served.
The dining room was vast and decked out in rich red and gold with sumptuous velvet curtains swept up at the sides of the sash windows. A suit of armour occupied the corner of the room, somewhat unnerving those with sensitive dispositions. Sara had arranged the place cards so that she was sitting opposite Harry. Maxine and Charles were facing each other and Jack was at the head.
As they ate the gazpacho soup, Sara could wait no longer.
“The last time we were all in the same room, Mr. Noble, we were all desperate for your approval,” she said, with pretence at a coy smile. She had insisted on calling Harry Mr. Noble ever since he'd won the Oscar. He had never expressed displeasure at it, so she had kept it up whenever she was trying to be more intimate with him.
“Oh yes,” said Maxine, affecting surprise at the subject. “Can you put us out of our misery and tell us if any of us made the grade?”
She and Sara laughed in amazement at the idea and Jack joined in willingly. Charles was now preoccupied with his soup. The food had taken away what nerves he had felt at the thought of meeting Harry Noble. Harry Noble was just a man but soup was soup. Even if it was cold.
“Oh, you can assure yourselves I approved heartily of you all,” said Harry, and continued to eat.
Sara tried again.
“Did any of us spring to mind when you cast the part of... say ... Elizabeth Bennet?”
Harry kept on drinking his soup.
“Perhaps that girl - now what was her name?” Sara laughed gently, “You called her the Ugly Sis—”