Swan (33 page)

‘No thanks,’ I said.

‘Are you on a diet or something?’ she chuckled.’ I
noticed you didn’t have anything at the party. You’re being really good, Mads.
Wine’s got sooo many calories, hasn’t it?’ She glanced down at her swollen
stomach, patted it through her jumper. ‘Actually, I could probably do with
going on a diet myself. I’ve put on so much weight since Christmas it’s
unreal.’

‘I’m not on a diet! I’m pregnant,’ I blurted. There
just didn’t seem any other way of getting it out.

Beth stared at me, covered her mouth, then flung her
arms round me.

‘Oh my God, darling, that’s marvellous! I can’t believe
this. What wonderful, wonderful news!’

After a couple of seconds, we drew apart, held each
other at arms’ length. Beth’s face was clouded with reproach. ‘Darling, you’re
very naughty. How long have you been keeping this secret from me?’

‘Not long. I only found out yesterday.’

‘And I suppose David’s the father?’

I nodded.
Who
else?

‘Does he know?’

I hesitated, dropped my shoulders. ‘Not yet. That’s
what I wanted to talk to you about Beth. He’s away on business in Brazil at the
moment.. I don’t know how to break it to him. I’ve been thinking of phoning him
but really feel this is something I should do face-to-face. What do you think?’

‘When are you expecting him back?’

‘In a couple of weeks.’ I corrected myself. ‘No,
actually, probably two.’

Beth furrowed her brow, got up from the table and
started repositioning the sofa cushions. My sister always fidgeted when she was
perplexed about something. At length, she stopped in the middle of the room and
looked at me.

‘I would tell him sooner rather than later. You
don’t want it playing on your mind darling, stressing you out. And besides,
he’s got a right to know, Mads. In fact, he
needs
to know so that he can send you some money, help to support you.’ She shook her
head, tutted. ‘You’re quite a dark horse, aren’t you? I didn’t even know the
two of you were shagging!’

I coloured up, tried to talk about something else
but my sister was having none of it. ‘So when exactly did you unlock David’s
chastity belt? Have I missed something here? I thought you said the man was
frigid!’

I rolled my eyes exasperatedly. ‘Come on Beth, you
know I don’t like talking about stuff like that.’

Beth smiled broadly, didn’t say anything. Then she
changed the subject. Started fussing over me, giving me the low-down on her
pregnancy, her bizarre cravings and the agony of the birth itself. She didn’t
make it sound like very much fun. Finally before I left, she forced a stack of
parenting books on me.

When I got home, I sent Chet a text message
informing him of my pregnancy. All I could do now was wait.

* * *

I didn’t hear back from him the next day. Or the day
after. In fact, there was complete and utter silence. I tried to remain calm,
assuming that he probably just needed time to process it.

I waited four days, sent a follow-up message asking
if he had got the first one, repeated my baby news. When I didn’t get a
response this time, I grew very despondent. Agonised over it, couldn’t
concentrate on anything. What did Chet’s silence mean? Had he abandoned me,
gone off of me?

What made matters worse was that Beth kept calling
me, nagging me about it. ‘Darling, this is a scandal. He should get back to
you.’

Sometimes I just wanted to pick up the phone and
call him. Hear his voice. But I didn’t dare. I had promised him I wouldn’t and
there was no way I could go back on that, no matter how desperately I wanted
to. And anyway, there could be loads of reasons why I hadn’t heard back from
him: maybe he’d lost his phone, or maybe Pantelli was keeping a closer eye on
him than usual. I tried to delude myself, tried to keep upbeat about the
situation, but deep down I was growing more and more anxious.

On the weekend before Oscar night, Beth and I paid
our yearly visit to our parent’s grave - a chance to pay our respects. Reflect
about their lives and ours. We got to Grange Park Cemetery at twelve-thirty and
stood before Mum and Dad’s gravestones in the late-afternoon sun, our hearts
fit to burst; listening to the wind blowing through the trees. For a second the
two of us stood with our eyes closed, thinking about the past. Then I looked
across at my sister. Her face was riddled with emotion. She wiped away a tear,
tried to put on a brave face.

‘Do you remember that time Dad dressed up as Elvis
for Mum’s fortieth?’

‘Yeah,’ I laughed, ‘and he sung
Hound Dog
. It was hilarious.’

‘Actually didn’t he sing
Love Me Tender
?’

‘No, no, definitely
Hound Dog
. Don’t you remember when he started dancing on the table
and fell off?’

Beth chuckled. ‘Oh yeah. That was classic.’ She
swallowed hard. ‘I miss them so much, Mads. Sometimes it’s like I can’t
breathe.’

‘I know ...’ We both fell silent again. I watched
Vicky tearing up ferocious tufts of grass and bellowing at the top of her
lungs. I smiled indulgently. Sweet, precious little Vicky. It was like watching
the reincarnation of Mum.

‘It’s over with Phil.’

‘Huh?’

‘We’re divorcing.’

‘What are you talking about?’

Beth glanced at me, her lips trembling. ‘I tried to
make it work. I tried to put the past behind me but I can’t. The trust is gone.
[E14]
 
The sparkle has gone and I can’t get it back. It’s over.’

I stood very still, processing this information. ‘So
what are you going to do? With the house, I mean. Are you kicking him out
again?’

‘I don’t know. I want a fresh start. That house
holds too many painful memories. We’re thinking of selling it and splitting the
proceeds. I think I fancy living by the sea. Perhaps Brighton or somewhere. The
sea air will be good for Vicky too.’

I gazed into the distance. ‘I understand. I’ll miss
you if you move out of London, but I understand.’

She held my hand. ‘Brighton’s not so far. It’s only
a short train journey. And you can stay weekends. It’s not going to change
anything between us, I promise you.’

I nodded.

‘Darling, can I ask you something?’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Have you heard back from David yet?’

‘Er, no, I - ’

Beth squeezed my hand more tightly. ‘I just want you
to know that if anything happens, if David let’s you down in any way, I’m
always here for you darling. You won’t have to bring up the baby on your own.’

‘Beth, I don’t know what to say. I mean, I mean ...’
My voice trailed off. I struggled to articulate what was in my head.

‘Darling, all I’m saying is that I’ll support you no
matter what. You’ll always have a place with me and Vicky if anything goes
wrong. When the baby is born, you can move in with us and we’ll bring up our
kids together. We don’t need men. We can survive on our own.’

‘But David hasn’t abandoned me, Beth. Okay, so I
haven’t heard back from him yet. But I have faith he’ll be there for me. He has
to be.’

My sister looked at me sceptically. ‘If he isn’t,
then you’ve got me. I want you to know that.’

I smiled blandly. ‘Thank you.’ The level of Beth’s
support touched me.

‘Darling ...’

‘What?’

‘There’s something else you’re not telling me, isn’t
there?’

‘What do you mean?’ I glanced at her fearfully. Did
she know about Chet? No, how could she?

My sister stared at me for a couple of seconds. Her
eyes were reading me, trying to work me out. ‘Just my intuition, that’s all. I
feel like there’s something you’re hiding from me. Something you haven’t told
me. We never used to keep secrets from each other. I know you. I know you well.
There’s something’s going on, isn’t there? You never were a very good liar.’

A lump formed in the back of my throat. Vicky had
started rolling around on the grass, waving her arms erratically, pretending
she was a choo choo train.

I struggled to keep my head clear. ‘Honestly,
there’s nothing I’m keeping from you. If there were I would tell you. I trust
you implicitly.’

‘Are you sure? You know you can trust me with a
secret, don’t you? Anything you tell me would be in the strictest confidence.’

For a moment, I agonized whether or not to tell her
the truth. Get the whole thing off my chest. But deep down, I knew I couldn’t.
I could never betray Chet. So I nodded and assured her again that everything
was fine. It wasn’t. But that was what I had to keep telling myself. I had to
keep my delusion alive.

Chapter
Twenty-Four

When it came to Oscar night, I was so down about everything
I couldn’t even be bothered to tune in. Due to the time difference, the
ceremony at the Kodak Theatre in Hollywood was taking place in the early hours
of Monday morning, UK time. To have watched it first-hand, I’d have needed to
stay up all night and I had to be up early for work.

Anyway, from previous experience I’d found watching
the whole show to be a tedious affair. Most of the ceremony was spent on what
the public perceived to be the lesser categories: best costume design, best
make-up and so forth. Going the whole hog meant twiddling your thumbs for ages,
listening to unfamiliar names being called out, praying for the best actor/best
picture awards. I’m sure that Angelo Kowalski’s friends and family were
ecstatic he did Oscar winning sound mixing for
Electro City
, but their sentiments probably weren’t shared by
anyone outside the film industry. The harsh reality was, despite filmmaking
being a collaborative progress, often involving the work of hundreds of people,
the average Joe on the street was only concerned about the actors: the faces
they saw on billboards. Nobody cared who did the special effects that made the
Titanic sink – all they wanted to see was Leonardo and Kate getting it
on.

It was a nightmare getting to work in the morning.
As usual there were inexplicable delays on the Northern Line. The train stalled
at Moorgate for no apparent reason, then after successfully trudging through
two more stations, stopped again, much to the chargrin of the disgruntled
commuters. One man looked like he was going to have a fit.

When I finally got to the office, I found the place
eerily quiet. Usually by nine o’clock there were at least ten or twelve people
at their desks taking calls. Not today.

After I’d hung up my coat and taken my headset out
of my locker, I spied William by the water cooler, pouring himself a drink.

‘Where is everybody?’ I asked.

He shot me a disinterested glance. Took a large gulp
of water from his polystyrene cup, wiped his mouth on his sleeve. ‘They’re all
in Meeting Room One. Apparently there’s something on the TV they’re all harping
on about. Go in now and you might just catch it.’

Hurriedly, I made my way to the meeting room. Why
was my heart beating so fast? I opened the door and found everyone huddled
round the TV, their eyes wide as saucers.

‘What is it?’ I whispered to Alice as I took a seat
next to her.

‘Sshh, just watch. I can’t believe this.’

I turned to the screen and saw they were tuned to
the BBC breakfast news. There was a female reporter speaking outside the Kodak
Theatre in Hollywood. The woman’s face was agitated, excited. Before I could
catch what she was saying, the transmission cut to footage of Whoopi Goldberg
on the theatre stage, preparing to announce Academy Award nominations. Whoopi
looked magnificent in what I can only describe as a fabulous multi-coloured,
multi-feathered prom dress.

‘It’s been quite a night, hasn’t it folks? Well,
it’s finally here - the moment you’ve all been waiting for. The nominees for
Best Actor ...’ She paused and began fiddling with the cream-coloured envelope
in her hand. Then she stopped, stared at the camera and pulled a funny face.
‘You know what? I think we should vote for it by applause! Let the people
judge.’

Boisterous cheers of approval reverberated around the
theatre. Pausing between each name for dramatic effect, Whoopi then read
through a list of the five nominees. The loudest cheers erupted when Chet’s
name was called.

‘And the Oscar goes to ... Chet Vincent!’

The whole place went wild. The camera intercut
between emotional shots of Chet’s family and Woody Allen (who I later
discovered won Best Picture for
Everybody
Loves Sid
). Then, as Whoopi joined in the crescendo of applause, Maria
Esposito and Chet’s agent Ted Cohen stepped up to collect the award on his
behalf.

Maria looked stunning in a flesh-coloured
Valentino
dress that gave the illusion she was completely
naked. It reminded me of the dress that Monroe wore when she sung
Happy Birthday Mr President
. Maria’s
face was contorted with emotion as she and Ted stood for a couple of seconds
basking in the overwhelming response from the audience.