‘You have such a way with words,’ Ren said, openly staring at her now, entranced.
‘Weird, Phoebe said the same thing,’ she replied, reaching out to move the hair out of his eyes.
‘Phoebe?’ Ren murmured. ‘Oh yeah, Phoebe.’
She leaned in towards him and I held my breath until it burned. I watched as Ren pulled her into his lap, a low moan echoing over the phone and through the air as their lips met. Three loud beeps snapped me out of my trance and I let out all the air in my lungs with a ragged gasp as a small, white piece of plastic fell from Bel’s fingers, onto the ground behind the sofa, confirming my contribution to the evening was complete.
It was wrong to watch but I couldn’t look away. The reality of what I had done smashed into my body, hammering the truth into every cell and atom.
‘She really loves him,’ I reminded myself as I crawled away, staying low on my hands and knees until I reached the living room. ‘You did a good thing for good people.’
Why then, I wondered as I dragged myself onto the sofa, the vision of Ren leaning in to kiss my friend playing over and over and over in mind. Why was it that every time I did something for the greater good, I ended up alone? Not that it mattered, there was no chance now, and now there was no chance, I could finally admit the truth to myself.
I was falling for him as well.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘My husband was smoother than a greased-up dolphin,’ Myrna said happily as she led me on a tour of her mansion. ‘Slick, handsome, so charming. I knew he was the one the first time I met him.’
‘How old were you?’ I asked, practically swooning over the dining room. No need to ask if any of these pieces came from West Elm; more likely West Elm came to Myrna’s house for inspiration. ‘When you met?’
‘Nineteen. He was thirty-eight. No one batted so much as an eyelid.’
‘Different times?’ I reasoned. ‘I suppose it was OK back then.’
‘Not really, but all the men were doing it and we didn’t have the power to stop them.’ She held out her left hand and admired the chunk of sapphire that decorated her ring finger. ‘I was one of the lucky ones. I loved my Wally something fierce and he loved me right back. You’d be surprised at how rare that was.’
‘Still fairly rare,’ I told her. ‘So I don’t think I would.’
Ever since I woke up on the settee Sunday morning, all I’d been able to think about was Bel and Ren, Ren and Bel. It was usually easier in the light of day. Thoughts that haunted you in the night were never quite so scary with the sun teasing them out of the shadows, but this was the exception to prove the rule. I’d done everything I could think of to distract myself. I filled an ASOS shopping basket with hundreds of pounds of clothes I would never actually buy. I hate-watched a house tour of my least favourite influencer’s new ten-million-dollar home. I even attempted to Do Exercise, but none of it worked. I liked him, I liked him so much. As absurd and pointless as it was, facts were facts. I liked Ren but because of me, Ren was with Bel and no number of house tours, kneeling push-ups or Free People bralettes could change that.
‘We built this house when we got married, Wally’s wedding gift to me.’ Myrna closed the door on the dining room and walked me into a bigger, brighter sitting room than the one I’d visited on Thursday, full of exquisite furniture as well as a baby grand piano, which sat expectantly in the corner. ‘Do you play?’ she asked when she saw me staring.
‘I had lessons when I was little but no, not really,’ I replied. I was too terrified to touch it, my common little fingers were not worthy.
‘Wally had a plan,’ she said, running her own fingertips over the glossy wood. ‘He always had a plan. We agreed, I would take a break from the movies and “just have fun”, those were his exact words. Then when we were good and ready, we would knuckle down to the real work and start a family. But life doesn’t workaccording to your plans no matter how well they might be laid, as we soon found out.’
‘Wally passed away?’ I prompted gently.
Myrna sat on the bench in front of the piano, transferring her weight on to an ebony walking stick with an ornate golden ball set into the top to lower herself down.
‘He got drunk as a skunk and fell down the goddamn stairs.’ She lifted the lid of the piano and tinkled two high keys. ‘The doctors declared it a coronary incident to save face, but I was the one who almost had a heart attack when I found him the next morning. He was a drunken fool, always had been. He died the way he lived: good and liquored up.’
Not sure what to say, I played it safe and said nothing.
‘Don’t feel bad, it was no secret Wally liked the sauce,’ she added. ‘But he could have been a little more careful around the staircase, he designed the damn thing after all. I should have put in those godawful baby gates. Naturally, the hideous children from his first marriage claimed I’d pushed him for the insurance money, but they’d watchedDouble Indemnityone too many times. That money was as much mine as his, I came from a good family, I made a decent salary at the studio and I was sensible with my savings. And if I’d killed him, I’d have come up with something a damn sight more creative than pushing a drunk fool down the stairs.’
Rolling up the ostrich feather-trimmed sleeve of her midnight-blue silk pyjamas, she began to play properly. Naturally, she was magnificent. I smoothed down a wrinkle in my skirt as she closed her eyes, lost in the music. Following Myrna’s orders, I’d dressed up to visit.None of my clothes were right, so I’d borrowed from Suzanne’s wardrobe. My sister only ever wore white tops, black bottoms and variations on that theme, but for reasons best known to her and her late night online shopping, her walk-in wardrobe was packed with unworn clothes in bold, bright colours, all with the tags still hanging from their sleeves. I’d chosen a long cream-coloured dress with a pretty rose print and a neat square neckline, something feminine I thought my host might approve of, but when I arrived, I was informed I looked like a gypsy come to steal the shingles off the roof. I did not care for the description and Myrna did not care to learn the word gypsy was considered a slur.
‘It must have been hard, losing the love of your life so young,’ I said, clapping as the song trailed off. ‘No wonder you became a, um … you know.’
‘A what?’ she stilled her hands over the keys and smiled. ‘A recluse? A hermit? Darling, I mourned Wally but I didn’t shut myself away from the world on purpose. You’d be surprised how few people want to hire the wife of their dead pal for their movie, no matter how beautiful or talented she might be. I was tainted. Overnight I went from a rising star to Wally’s widow, and officially no longer an ingenue. Once I saw how it would be, I announced that I had retired from acting and, soon enough, everyone forgot about me. I did it on my terms, as I always had.’
‘People forget about you very quickly if you let them,’ I said, perching on the very edge of a pistachio-green brocade upholstered couch. ‘I’m sorry.’
She closed the lid of the piano and used the walking stick to pull herself up to standing. ‘Don’t be. Noteveryone wants to be famous forever. Now, would you like to see the pool? According to the vulture of a real estate broker my stepchildren appointed, it’s something of a showpiece.’
‘Sounds delightful,’ I said, finding a smile as she guided me out into the garden.
