‘Then it seems fitting that we get to know her next then, doesn’t it? Fiona, are you ready?’
Chapter 36
SOFIA BRADBURY
‘Bloody thing!’
A frustrated Sofia stopped waiting for a suitable opportunity to remove her hearing aid out of the view of the public eye. Instead, she yanked it out and rummaged through her handbag before inserting it into the rapid battery charger.
A career spent on stages and sets and in front of loud, cheering audiences had taken its toll on her hearing. She hated wearing the aid – regarding it as a sign of weakness – although its ability to translate languages had once helped her to understand the director of a Japanese TV commercial for brandy.
If she had heard properly, then she was not on a reality TV show and this was a real life or death situation. And if, as the images on her screen suggested, it was also being broadcast worldwide, it would have a much larger, global reach than she could have ever imagined. Sofia should have felt terrified. Instead, she had never felt more alive. She valued her life on the stage more than her life off it, and now the whole world was her audience.
She slipped the charged aid back into her ear just in time to hear someone reveal the dead body of the pregnant girl’s husband was hidden in the boot of her car. Itwas an incredible twist of fate. Sofia had starred in countless dramas that were lauded for their capricious twists and turns. Every producer worth his salt would be chomping at the bit to have a big reveal like that tucked up their sleeves.
Sofia studied Claire’s face and body language.Guilty as sin, she thought. She knew her type; she had met more than her fair share of Claires on the showbiz circuit over the years. They were shrewd and manipulative and stopped at nothing to land the roles they thirsted for.
She bit the soft, fleshy insides of her cheeks to stop her lips from curling into a smile and revealing her satisfaction at Claire’s unravelling. It meant, of course, that Sofia was now in prime position to be saved. But to be sure, she would need to put on an Oscar-winning performance. There was no dead body hidden in Sofia’s vehicle, but there were plenty of skeletons in her closet.
‘Hello, Sofia.’
A female voice startled her. She scanned her screens until she realised it belonged to the juror with frightful hair and a matching frightful plaid suit. She would have preferred a man to have questioned her; she had a much better rapport with the opposite sex.
Sofia noted a clock appear in the right-hand corner of the screen. It began counting down immediately. She imagined herself walking into the Old Vic to rapturous applause. She cleared her throat and offered her audience the warmest of smiles. ‘Good morning to you. And to whom am I speaking?’ Sofia asked.
‘Fiona Prentice.’
‘Fiona, hello. You are the brave soul charged with saving my life then, are you?’
She watched as Fiona offered a smile that didn’t match her eyes. Her demeanour was bold but her pupils were dilated as if apprehensive.
‘Well, let me make this easy for you, Fiona. I hold no grudge against you or anyone else who chooses not to vote for me. I have led a full, wonderful life, beyond what I could’ve ever imagined. And if my fate is to see out my final hours in front of this delightful audience, then I will die as I have lived. I can’t think of any better way to go.’ She paused to wait for imaginary applause to die down. ‘By the way, this is Oscar,’ she continued, holding up her bemused dog and waving his paw towards the camera. She allowed him to lick the side of her face, hoping it might win over animal lovers.
‘For the benefit of those people who may be unaware of who you are, could you please tell us a little about yourself?’ suggested Fiona.
Sofia took a deep breath and placed the dog back by her side. ‘Of course. Well, where to begin? I’ve been a working actress since I first trod the boards as a girl in the West End, and it’s thanks to my public that I’ve been able to sustain such a long career. I’m not going to tire you all by reeling off everything you’ve probably seen me in or the many awards I’ve been given, so let’s just keep it brief and say that I have been blessed.’
‘Does it concern you that you’re the …most senior… of the remaining Passengers?’
References to her age often left a bitter taste in Sofia’s mouth, but not this time. ‘I might not have as many years left in me as some of the others trapped in these godawful cars, but should it mean that I’m denied the opportunity to live the rest of my life? I do hope not. I believe that I still have such an awful lot to give.’
‘Can you give us an example of what? I know you’ve done a lot of charity work over the years.’
Good girl, thought Sofia.That saves me having to shoehorn it into the conversation.
‘Oh, bless you for remembering,’ she continued with false modestly, before spending the next three minutes of her allocated time recalling the charities and hospitals represented. ‘But yes,’ she said finally, ‘I suppose my charity work is one of the things that I’m the proudest of and it’s what brings me the most pleasure. As much as I enjoy entertaining the people and being – what did Prince Harry once call me … oh, that’s right, a “national treasure”– it’s raising money for good causes that is closest to my heart.’
‘Some of the equipment your money paid for saved my daughter’s life,’ added Fiona.
Sofia edged further towards the screen. This was going even better than she hoped. ‘Oh, really? Tell me more, Fiona, darling.’
‘Nine years ago, Kitty underwent brain surgery to remove a benign tumour using doctors that your money helped to train and in a hospital that you helped to build. So I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you from the both of us.’
‘You are very welcome. When it comes to fundraising, people have thrown around figures like twenty-five or thirty million pounds, but they’re just numbers and who’s counting? I’m so pleased that your little girl is one of the hundreds to benefit from my hard work.’
Sofia became aware of the clock reaching the one-minute mark.
‘Some of the other Passengers are parents,’ continued Fiona. ‘When you obviously care so much about children’s charities, do you mind if I ask why you chose not to start a family?’
