A Twist of Fate (18 page)

Paul was staring into me but at Tom's words he took a deep breath and stepped out to him. With a sigh he held out his hand. ‘I'm sorry. Shouldn't have reacted like that. Shit, what was I thinking?'

Tom gave a smirk and shook his hand. ‘Gave me a shock, I'll give you that. No wonder you survived that crash.' He gave me a smile then headed back up the corridor. ‘You see, Callie? You're worth fighting for.'

‘Are you all right?' I asked Paul, still holding him.

He nodded, squeezing his eyes shut, as if trying to shut out what had just happened. ‘Yeah … sorry, sorry, but when I saw him kiss you …'

‘It was hardly a kiss, just a friendly peck on the cheek. We were just chatting about regular stuff. I think he liked talking to a normal person for a change.'

‘I shouldn't have done that.' He turned away from me, angry with himself, and slammed his fist hard against the wall. ‘Fuck it!'

I flinched but tried to soothe him. ‘Don't worry. He was OK about it. He won't say anything.' I stroked his arm. ‘Your devotion is touching.'

He leaned over me, the passion which had pulsed through him earlier now tangible in blatant lust. ‘Christ, Callie, want you, want you, I always fucking want you.'

I could have let him take me there. Right there against the wall in the corridor. My nipples tingled at the promise of his abrasive touch, my lips plumped up expectantly for his bruising kiss.

‘Later, my darling. We have to go. Come on, this is ridiculous.'

I tugged his hand for a moment and we started down the corridor. Luckily, I'd let go of it when Laura came pacing down towards us. ‘There you are! Come on! We've been wondering where you were! We want to start filming in five.'

‘Sorry, we were just discussing what we were going to say.'

‘Yeah, well, please don't leave the green room again. We need to have you nearby.' Her snippy self-importance allowed no room for curiosity about us, luckily.

The make-up people fussed over us for a few minutes more and then we were beckoned up to where we'd enter the studio floor. I could hear the crowd going wild on the other side of the partition, and the show's theme tune played. Jack began his introduction. Oddly, my nerves had settled – the incident with Paul and Tom had rather taken my mind off it.

We were held, ready to go on. I watched the monitor and heard Jack talking seriously for a time about the crash, before lightening the mood with a gentle pun and introducing us. The assistant counted down the seconds for us again and we were ushered on.

Twenty-one

‘Please welcome our two miracle survivors, Paul Mason and Callie Frobisher!'

I felt Paul's hand on my arm again. It was relaxed and comforting, more natural than in the rehearsal. I remembered to smile and wave. Paul gave a sort of grin and just about managed to raise his hand.

Jack was the perfect host, greeting us with broad grins and shaking our hands. I remembered to sit demurely, a bit like the Queen in photographs, with my knees pressed together to the side.

‘So, you two … a week or so ago you were, what, enjoying a beach holiday, working … and now … what an incredible time it's been for you.'

‘Yeah – pretty extraordinary. You sort of think you can wind back time and go back to where you were then. Sometimes you have to remind yourself it's all happened,' I said.

‘Doing this takes your mind off it though,' added Paul.

‘Yeah, I mean, you guys are famous now. Everyone wants a piece of you.'

Paul laughed. ‘Seems that way. Even the guy in my corner shop's being nice to me.'

‘I know it's tough to go back over the crash but tell us what you can about it.'

I started first. ‘To be honest, I really don't remember much. I suppose it did all sort of slow down, like you hear. I wasn't panicked though. I was oddly calm. There wasn't much I could do.'

‘But you released her from her seat belt, Paul?' Jack asked him.

‘Yeah. I wish I could have done more, but there was no time and …' His voice trailed off. It was the first time I'd heard frailty in his tone, but he soon shook it off, holding his head up and speaking clearly. ‘Callie was the only one I could reach. I wasn't sure if she was still alive, to be honest, but luckily …' He looked at me and smiled, one of complete acceptance. I smiled back.

‘Here I am,' I said, turning back to Jack with a laugh.

‘And once you were on the island, things weren't too bad?'

‘No, a lot of wreckage had washed up, including catering trolleys and stuff like that. We had plenty of food and it was warm and dry.'

‘But it wasn't just wreckage that washed up, was it?'

‘No.'

He put on a tone of sincerity. ‘Did you find many bodies?'

Paul said frankly, ‘Yeah. I buried them temporarily under branches. They've all been identified and repatriated now.'

‘So you were spared what must have been horrific discoveries, Callie?'

I hesitated, rubbing my hands together. ‘I found one.' The bloated face of the man in the lagoon came back to me suddenly. I breathed deeply to steady myself, in through my nose, out through my mouth. These questions were already tougher than in the rehearsal. Paul shifted closer to me and I looked to him for comfort. ‘I'd gone swimming and he was under the water. But it served as a reminder, not to forget, not to assume that anyone's life is worth squandering.' I smiled meekly to try to offset the unease.

‘Sure, sure,' said Jack. ‘Difficult, very difficult. But you two got on all right?'

‘Yes. We had to,' I joked. ‘I was stuck with him.'

Paul smiled. ‘She's crap at making shelters, I tell you.'

‘It was the wind!' I laughed.

‘Something like that,' he smirked. I met his eyes and my mind was full of us rolling about on the blankets, our limbs a tangle as the shelter fell around us.

‘But come on, you say nothing happened, but seriously, guys …' I smirked awkwardly and leaned away from Paul. ‘Moonlight, sea, isolation, and look at you, you're both gorgeous – aren't they a good looking couple, folks?' he asked the audience, who promptly cheered and whistled loudly. ‘You cannot honestly tell us nothing happened between you?'

I shook my head and Paul exhaled a laugh and rubbed his eyes wearily. ‘Nothing happened.' Outright lying clearly came easier to him than me.

‘Well, what about it now then? We're all desperate for you to get together, aren't we?' More whistles and cheers. ‘You obviously get on really well and rely on each other. I mean, Callie, he saved your life!'

‘She doesn't owe me anything,' Paul was quick to say.

But the whistles continued, along with a chant which quickly picked up, worked into a fever pitch by Jack himself, ‘Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!'

I started to panic. This was not what either of us wanted. ‘No, really! I have a … I have umm …'

‘A boyfriend?' Jack offered.

‘Yes.'

I'd said it before I realised. I wanted the frenzied circus to stop. It did. The crowd fell silent with a groan of disappointment. I glanced at Paul. He was staring at his feet, back to rubbing his hands. He did it when he was uncomfortable, I'd noticed. I wanted to take his hands and pull him into me. I wanted him to at least look at me, but he kept his head right down.

The interview was more predictable and tamer after that but my heart was hammering and I thought I must have sounded ridiculous. Paul was easy and relaxed, and I hoped beyond hope he understood.

It was time for Tom to come on. I glanced at Paul again, but he still wouldn't look at me. Nausea took hold. Tom sat next to me and his knee kept knocking mine. I shuffled away but then found myself close to Paul. Tom was funny and charming and luckily we just had to sit there and smile. I just wanted it to end – I wanted nothing more than the end.

At last there was a music act, during which we all just sat silently in the dark, pretending to enjoy it. I was sandwiched between two men. One, I wanted more than life itself, but who I may have just pushed away, the other I felt would jump on me given half the chance and emotionally drain me. When the song ended, the lights went back up and we were supposed to smile and applaud warmly. I just about remembered to. Jack wound things up and the cheers for us were nearly as great as for Tom. At last the cameras stopped rolling.

‘All OK?' Jack asked the editor who replied in the affirmative. We wouldn't have to reshoot anything. ‘Thanks, guys, thanks. Great stuff. Nearly got a snog out of you two.' He winked at me. I laughed it off again.

‘No.'

‘Oh, I forgot. You've got a boyfriend,' Jack laughed sarcastically and gave Paul a slap on the arm. ‘Get in there, man. I would,' I heard him half whisper as he went off.

People bustled around us, removing our mics and giving us various disclaimers to sign. Paul scrutinised them intently. I wanted everyone to disappear. I wanted just him. When he'd been sorted, he turned and paced off the set. I followed, my heart thudding hard.

‘Paul!' I called. He didn't turn back. ‘Paul!' A few heads turned to look at me.

He headed swiftly through the corridors and I only caught up with him outside. ‘Stop, for God's sake!'

Finally, he paused and turned to face me, his face closed. ‘Yes?'

‘Look, come on … it was so difficult. I just wanted to draw the attention away from us. You know what it felt like. It was the obvious thing to do.'

‘Was it?'

‘Paul, you know it means nothing.'

‘Not to that bloke you've got hanging off you – Roderick.'

‘Rupert.'

‘He'll think he's well in now.'

‘I'll tell him right now that I had to say that to shut them up, that it doesn't change anything.'

‘You still haven't told him to get lost though, have you?'

I sighed. ‘Look … if you think about it, it's actually quite good to use it as a smoke screen. At least it'll stop people focusing on us. It was ridiculous back there.'

‘Knew we shouldn't have done the fucking thing.' He turned and kicked a post. Visions of him pinning Tom to the wall asserted themselves in my mind.

‘But I mean it. If people think I'm with someone else, they'll stop bothering about us.'

‘How're you going to do that then? Give them lots of photo opportunities of you two groping each other?'

‘No! They don't even know who he is. All I've done is say I'm spoken for.'

‘They'll find out. I'm surprised they haven't already, and although this lover boy of yours is hardly my best mate, it's not fair on him, is it? Giving him false hope, using him?'

I frowned with guilt. ‘Don't say that.'

‘That's what it is. I don't like it.'

‘He knows where he stands. I'll talk to him today.'

‘He doesn't know about us though, does he?'

‘Look, Paul. We can't pretend there's nothing between us and keep up this intensity as well. It's hard to have it both ways.'

‘It's you who doesn't want to tell anyone about us, Callie. We agreed, but it was your idea.'

The weight in my stomach was making me dizzy. ‘Look, I hate this, I hate it. Let's stop.'

He sighed but said nothing.

I stepped into him. ‘Paul?' I reached out a hand. He looked down at it and let me thread my fingers through his. ‘I'm sorry.'

He turned to me, his face softening with tender resignation. ‘Me too.'

He leaned in and balanced his forehead on mine, his eyes closed. Our mouths instinctively sought each other out, but I held back, remembering our position. ‘Not here.'

‘Want you.'

‘Always,' I murmured. ‘But we've just gone through all that to avoid discovery. Don't spoil it now.'

‘I just wish I could take you for a drink.'

‘Can't you?'

He looked at me solemnly. ‘No. People would immediately think we're boning each other.'

‘Boning each other?' I smiled. ‘That has a certain elemental quality to it. Can't wait for you to bone me.'

‘I've got to get back to work. What time tonight?'

‘Nine? I'm having an early supper with a friend – a girl friend.' I stressed.

‘That's good. Shit, I've got a permanent stiffy thinking about it.'

My mouth was watering. I could feel saliva pooling on my tongue. ‘Want to taste it.'

He smirked. ‘You know what I love about you, Callie? On the surface you're this quiet, sensible, good little posh girl, and under it all … you're a dirty little nympho.' He grinned. I gasped in shock but couldn't dispute it.

‘With you I am. I hate not being able to carry you inside me all day. I hate it. Hate being empty of you.'

His phone rang, fortunately. If it hadn't we may have had no option but to take each other among the recycling bins of the studio.

He took it out and pouted. ‘Work. I'm bloody late. Going to have to go, Cal.'

‘I'll see you later.'

He started to head off. ‘Yeah … I'll see
you
later.' He pointed at me, walking backwards, one hand in his pocket. ‘All of you. I'll be ready, Callie. I'll be ready and waiting.' With the most delicious lop-sided grin, he turned and sauntered around the corner.

I stood staring after him. Happiness glowed off me, our dispute forgotten.

And then my phone rang. Rupert. Oh, not now, please, not now. I just let it ring, waiting for it to stop. He'd leave a message. Long and tortuous. I'd have to talk to him later.

Twenty-two

I was starting to make contact with friends again. They'd been good, giving me space, waiting until I was ready. I'd always been ready, but my time with Paul had been too precious to give to anyone else. But it was becoming silly, and I missed them. I met up with Tina, whom I'd known since school, for supper. We went to a small bistro down the road, tucked away from photographers. She didn't pry about the island, she didn't patronise me, she wasn't overly sympathetic – she was just Tina, and it was great to see her. We discussed the
Jack Northam Show
and I told her about how I'd blurted out the boyfriend thing and now I had to explain to Rupert.