Chloe's Rescue Mission (26 page)

The buildings around him were glittering with lights. It was almost like Christmas, and like the Christmases of his youth, he felt a lift in his spirits.

His heartbeat quickened. He needed to find the right opportunity to tell Chloe how he felt. The right moment would surely present itself. Even if he had to engineer it. He wanted her to know he wasn’t just some playboy hell-bent on another conquest. Emily had been so right to send him back to the party. Yes, he knew she was banking on him nurturing a relationship with Chloe. Like dear old Rose, it had been her mission to see him settled again, one day.

Tonight, by returning to the party, it would show his support for Chloe’s project in ways other than financial. He would be giving his time. Giving himself.

As he made a move back in the direction of the theatre, the lights around him brightened. A voice cried, ‘Watch out!’

Headlights were blinding him.

He lunged to the left – too late.

We were buzzing. It was all going on backstage. Champagne corks were popping, the noise level could be measured in high decibels and smiles were everywhere. In the centre of it all were Alicia-May, Beth and Morgan. The were hanging off each other, grinning whilst A-May took a selfie. ‘Chlo-wheee!’ they yelled when they saw me. I hadn’t heard that cry for years.

‘Get over here!’ A-May beckoned.

She pulled me in at the other side of her and raised her phone again.

‘Chardonnaaaaaaay!’ we chorused.

A tray of fizz in plastic goblets hove into view, carried by Mum, while Owen followed with a very sleepy Tom.

‘Fantastic!’

‘We pulled it off!’

‘What a night.’

‘Brilliant!’

All around us, people were celebrating and I didn’t plan on being left behind. I knocked back half my drink.

Owen was beaming. ‘Great job, Chloe. A-May, you were on top form. What a build-up. As for the finale, with the old Cock-o-the-North making his dramatic entrance... Wow! Really got the eyes watering, that did.’

‘Owen, you sentimental old softie.’ Beth pushed him playfully.

‘If it did it for me, you can bet it did it for everyone else,’ Owen reasoned.

‘Men in kilts will do it for me, every time,’ Morgan said, smoothing a hand through his hair. ‘Those donation buckets will be bulging.’

‘Of course! Where are they, Owen?’

‘The cash is in the theatre safe. The manager said we can come back for it tomorrow.’

‘Any idea how much we got?’

‘Half time tally was over two grand.’

‘What?!’

The buckets were a last minute idea of Mum’s. She’d nipped down to her favourite DIY store to buy four of them.

‘Fancy going clubbing?’ asked Beth, her voice loaded with anticipation.

‘Tonight?’ I asked.

‘No time like the best time,’ said A-May.

I hadn’t been clubbing for about four years. Not since meeting Warren. Clubbing was a scene for young-free-and-singles.

I qualified in the last two categories.

‘Mum’ll take Tom back to the hotel. Go on, Chlo, it’ll be fun.’

I looked down at my costume. I had a pair of battered cotton trousers and a vest in the changing room.

‘Dingo is dead casual,’ Alicia-May said. Dingo was a hip club in town where celebrities chilled out. Joe Public would need to take out a second mortgage for the membership. ‘I have tickets. Garfield Alexander fixed it for me.’

Garfield Alexander – one of Britain’s top agents.

Beth looked at me. ‘No’ clearly wasn’t an option.

I nodded. ‘Okay but we have to pack up our stuff, first.’

Twenty minutes later, Mum stood with a pile of bags, bouquets and a small boy waiting to be transported back to the hotel. Owen headed out to find her a taxi, while we three girls powdered our noses and glossed our lips. Morgan gave us each a flamboyant hug, before making his way to the Albert Hall to meet up with Dante.

‘I’m so thrilled we’re going to Dingo,’ Beth crooned as she tweaked a fuchsia-pink strand of hair over one eye. ‘I wonder who’ll be there.’

I was wondering how soon I could leave, since exhaustion now seemed to be sapping energy from my veins.

‘Honey, we’ll be there, that’s all that matters,’ A-May said as she stuffed a hand into her bra and hauled one boob into position followed by the other.

The door burst open, followed by Owen. Mum, who was hugging Tom to her, bent to lift one of the bags but Owen held up both his hands, like he was about to deliver a sermon.

‘It’s chaos outside. A car mounted the pavement and ploughed into some poor bloke. There’s a couple of ambulances, a fire truck, you name it, it’s all out there. I’ve got a taxi waiting round the corner, Mrs S, let’s go.’

He grabbed the bags and led her into the street.

Out of morbid curiosity, we three headed out too.

There was quite a gathering. A hard core bunch loitered with prurient interest, while others took a quick look and moved on.

A siren howled as one of the ambulances shifted into the road, and set off.

‘That’s somebody’s week ruined, possibly even the rest of their life,’ I said, a cold shiver travelling down my spine.

Alicia-May hugged us both to her. ‘Best to count your blessings, every day,’ she said. ‘You never know what’s around the corner.’

Dingo did not live up to expectations. Unlike the flashier, commercial clubs, Dingo appeared surprisingly down-market. It was old. It was crusty round the edges and the loos smelled of damp. The music played was an eclectic mix of blues, techno and eighties disco, but there wasn’t much dancing going on. In fact, there wasn’t much of anything going on, apart from a lot of talking, drinking and possibly – because I didn’t actually see any – a touch of Charlie snorting.

Garfield Alexander was seated with a couple of people I felt I should have recognised but didn’t. He generously ordered champagne when we arrived although, if asked, I’d have gone for a double espresso with an espresso chaser.

Alicia-May was totally the centre of attention, which suited me fine. I could sip my fizz, smile beguilingly and hope to God I didn’t drop off.

God wasn’t listening.

Some time, around one o’clock, Alicia-May nudged me awake. ‘Come on Sleeping Beauty, we have to be up in a few hours for the
Wake-Up!
Show.’

Of course. The car was fetching us at six. Deep joy. But it was all in a good cause and after that, I might actually sleep for a week.

Alicia-May looked disgustingly fresh-faced at six in the morning. I just looked disgusting. I was banking on the make-up artist wielding her cosmetic brushes with the skill of Leonardo da Vinci.

We were directed to the make-up room so we could be transformed. I sat back and closed my eyes. I counted my breaths and gave a brief thought to potholing. This was preferable to that. Definitely. Good old Duncan.

A TV in the room screened the opening credits to the
Wake-Up!
show.

A cool cleansing cloth was wiped over my face and then a soft cloth patted it dry. Bliss.

My make-up girl, Tracey, was quietly humming
Million Love Songs
while she worked. It soothed me.

A-May began humming too.

To show solidarity, I joined in.

The show presenters were running through a summary of today’s delights. ‘And we hear from Alicia-May Golding and Chloe Steele on the success of last night’s variety show to raise money for the Joshua Steele Theatre. Sadly, of course, this has all been eclipsed by the news that Duncan Thorsen, who has been a big supporter of the project, was injured, last night, in an accident outside the Royal Theatre. Over to Jeremy at the news desk for more details.’

I sat bolt upright and clutched Tracey’s arm as I focused on Jeremy’s grave features.

‘That’s right, Kerry. Duncan Thorsen and two other pedestrians were hit by a taxi that mounted the pavement only yards from the Royal Theatre. It’s believed the driver may have suffered a heart attack at the wheel. All are being cared for in St Thomas’s Hospital, and are reported to be in a stable condition.’

I shot a look at Alicia-May, whose eyes had widened in shock. I lunged for my handbag and pulled out my phone. I’d put it on silent last night and forgotten to turn it on again.

‘Who can I call?’ I asked to no-one in particular. ‘Marlean,’ I answered, ‘I’ll call Marlean.’

‘At six-thirty in the morning?’ A-May asked.

‘Crap! She won’t be at work yet, will she?’

‘Don’t worry, Chloe. He’ll be in excellent hands at St Thomas’s.’

‘The hotel, they must know something.’

I fumbled and swore as I made mistakes finding the number.

The receptionist was apologetic. ‘I don’t know anything,’ she said. ‘I’ve only just come on duty.’

I thanked her and hung up.

‘If I call the hospital, do you think they’ll tell me?’ I asked Alicia-May.

‘Not unless you’re family.’

‘Of course! Emily will know. She’s his sister. I should have asked the receptionist to put me through to her.’

‘Chloe,’ Alicia-May leaned over and put her hand on mine to stop me making another call. ‘Chloe, it’s still half-past six in the morning. If she was at the hospital with him last night, she’ll be fast asleep now.’

The look on her face told me I was over-reacting.

And why should I care so much?

I wasn’t family.

I wasn’t even his girlfriend.

‘Right. Yes. I’ll call later.’

‘He’ll be fine. He’s a big strong guy.’

‘Taxis are bloody big too.’

‘Honestly, Chloe, they just said they were in a stable condition. Nobody mentioned intensive care or life-threatening injuries, did they?’

‘No.’

‘Right. So stop worrying, honey. It’ll all be okay.’

I sat back in the chair, and allowed Tracey to smooth something cool and creamy over my face. She wasn’t humming now, though.

Later, as we walked to the Green Room, Alicia-May put her arm around me and said, ‘Does Duncan have any idea how bad you got it for him?’

‘I don’t even think I knew it myself.’

‘You gonna tell him?’

I swallowed and shook my head. ‘No.’

Straight after the TV interview we were off to record a radio interview. Again the pressing topic was Duncan, and again I had nothing to tell them. ‘I’m really not being coy,’ I said with unnecessary emphasis, ‘I don’t know any more than you do.’

I felt Alicia-May’s hand over mine. ‘But we’re all hoping and praying that he and the others make a speedy recovery. It’s upsetting for all concerned.’

When we came out of the interview, I tried getting an answer from the hospital but – surprise, surprise – they wouldn’t tell me anything. I bet every journalist and his dog was pestering them for information.

I took a taxi back to the hotel and asked the receptionist for news.

‘Um, why don’t you speak to his family?’ she said, ‘I can put a call through to his sister, if you like.’

That didn’t sound good. I assumed there was awful news to be broken.

‘Please,’ I said, aware of the desperation in my voice.

Emily sounded surprisingly cheery when she answered. Oh, God, I thought, she’s putting a brave face on it. ‘Emily, it’s Chloe. I heard the awful news about Duncan. How…how bad is it?’

‘Well, he’ll no’ be doing the Highland Fling for a while but he’s going to be okay.’

Okay. He was going to be okay. ‘He’s not…I mean…Oh, good. That’s good to hear. So glad to hear it. I really am.’

‘Are you in the hotel?’

‘Yes.’

‘D’you want to come up for a coffee? Jim’s taken Harry to the Science Museum. They’ll be gone ages.’

‘Of course.’

I’d only known Emily a few hours but I still threw my arms around her like a long-lost relative. ‘What a relief for you,’ I said, with a deep sense of my own. ‘How is he, really?’

‘He’ll live. He has a fractured femur and three cracked ribs. They’ve got him in surgery now.’

‘When will he be out?’

‘They said the surgery should be over anytime now. But there’s no point going in till this evening. The leg isn’t fully broken, so that’s good. But he’ll be several weeks hobbling around on crutches.’

‘And the others?’

‘I hear the driver had a heart attack but is recovering. The others weren’t hit, just took a dive out of the way.’

‘It could have been so much worse.’

‘Aye. It doesn’t bear thinking about.’ She smiled. ‘Now, come and sit down. Room Service will be up with your coffee in a mo.’

I sat on the sofa. ‘Your suite is a mirror image of ours,’ I said, aware how trivial that sounded, under the circumstances. ‘Duncan’s made a good job of his hotels, hasn’t he?’

She came and sat next to me. ‘He has, you’re right. He generally makes a good job of most things he turns his hand to.’

‘I can imagine.’

‘Which is why I’m so glad he’s got you in his life, now. You’re another good choice he’s made.’

I opened my mouth to speak and shut it again.

‘My brother can seem a very closed person but that’s only cos he’s hiding a whole heap of emotion. He keeps himself in check so he can make sure he gets everything done; looks after everyone else, y’know?’

‘I think so.’

‘But I’ve noticed a difference in him these last few weeks – since he met you.’

‘He’s er…’ I thought for a moment, ‘What has he said, exactly?’

‘Aw, nothing specific. But there’s been a brightness about him, a return to the Duncan I remember as a lad, and I reckon that’s down to you, Chloe.’

My heart had begun beating so hard, she’d be calling an ambulance for me soon.