TWENTY-FOUR

After lunch with Caresse in the MePa, M took a cab uptown. Her anxiety about Larry and her need to see him had grown more pressing towards the end of lunch, and she had instantly agreed when Caresse had suggested they skip dessert and coffee.

‘I’ve just got to get back to the studios,’ Caresse had explained. ‘There’s a big shoot this afternoon, and I’m needed.’ And so M had swiftly paid, and they had left, each taking cabs in different directions.

Now, as the driver pushed his way through the heavy traffic, M sat back against the seat, her thoughts turning inward. She couldn’t help wondering what Larry would say when he heard her news. During his first week in Toronto she had spoken to him every day, confided how well the shoot was going; he had sounded genuinely pleased for her. But he knew nothing about the startling and unexpected events of last week, and Kate Morrell’s extensive plans for her, because he had not returned her calls.

Six days of silence. Far too long, wasn’t it? They were engaged to be married, after all. Her thoughts raced, zeroing in on him. Had she made a dreadful mistake about Laurence Vaughan? Wasn’t he the man she believed him to be? Was she so influenced by her girlhood crush on him that she had been swept away romantically, caught up in the glamour of him? And finally, very simply, had she misjudged his character? She didn’t believe this was so, and yet his behaviour had been bizarre, even questionable.

Still, he had gone to Canada to investigate a problem for his mother, and maybe that problem had been so overwhelming that it had overshadowed everything else in his head. That was a possibility, she decided, and reminded herself to keep an open mind and not to be judgemental.

She began to think about all the things she had to tell him…that she had to leave for Paris in the middle of December, because Jean-Louis Tremont had to start fitting the clothes on her…that she was about to sign a multimillion-dollar contract with the designer. Unexpectedly it occurred to her that Larry might not want to come to Paris with her…a possible dilemma suddenly loomed.

When M walked into the apartment twenty minutes later she was surprised to hear Larry’s voice coming from the direction of the library. That morning she had left him in bed, looking worn out and damaged, and so she was glad he had felt well enough to get up. After putting her coat in the closet, she went to join him.

As soon as he saw her he murmured goodbye into the phone, and hung up, came to her immediately, a faint smile flickering on his mouth. He was pale and gaunt, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t look well after all, even though he was dressed and mobile, bundled up in a navy blue tracksuit and a heavy, knitted-wool cardigan of the same colour. Quite suddenly she was aware, for the first time, that he had lost weight.

Without saying a word he wrapped his arms around her, clung to her. ‘I’m sorry, so very sorry, M. I vowed I would never hurt you in any way, and look what I’ve gone and done. I’ve caused you nothing but heartache these past few days.’

She drew away from him, saw how bloodshot his bright blue eyes were, and answered gently, ‘Please, Larry, don’t keep saying you’re sorry. I accepted your apology this morning and, honestly, I know how contrite you are. What I would like you to do is explain everything from the beginning, if you don’t mind. And from the moment you got to Toronto. If you can do this I think I might be able to understand how you came to be in such a mess, so out of it, when I found you here on Saturday.’

‘I’ll tell you about Toronto. I want you to know what happened. Let’s go and sit near the fire.’ Taking hold of her hand he led her towards the fireplace.

Settling herself in the corner of the sofa, leaning against the soft cushions, M fixed her gaze on him. ‘I haven’t even asked you how you’re feeling. Sorry.’

‘Better. My legs are still weak, and my stomach’s sore, but thank God I’m rid of that ghastly headache. It was doing me in. A migraine, actually.’

‘I’m glad, let’s face it…Saturday was something of an ordeal for you.’

He nodded but said nothing.

Taking hold of his hand, squeezing it, she went on in the same low, steady voice. ‘Come on then…tell me about Toronto.’

‘Well, part of it you already know—’

She cut into his sentence, saying swiftly, ‘I want you to start at the beginning please.’

‘Okay, here goes. I thought Dad was perfectly normal when I arrived. He certainly didn’t seem ill or out of sorts, and he wasn’t afraid of the play, as my mother had suggested to me on the phone. In fact, to be honest, he was relishing the idea of playing the part of Cyrano de Bergerac, especially at his age. He’s seventy, you know. I went to a few rehearsals with him, and I knew at once that he had a good grasp of the part; after all, he’d played it a number of times before. And I was mystified by the worries my mother had expressed during her phone call.’

‘Did you bring that up with him?’

Larry looked at her swiftly, a horrified expression settling on his face. ‘God, no!’ he exclaimed, shaking his head. ‘They’re a bit competitive, those two. He’d be furious if he thought she doubted his talent. I said I’d come to see him because I needed a break, and also wanted to spend some quality time with him. One thing I did notice, though, was that he was irritated Mum was filming and couldn’t join him in Canada. But this aside, he was on an even keel…himself, very normal as far as I was concerned.’ Larry paused, rose, went to the drinks tray and opened a can of Coke. He filled a glass and, looking at M, he asked, ‘Do you want anything, darling?’

‘No thanks.’

Returning to his place next to her on the sofa, Larry took a swallow of the Coke, then said, ‘Then Edward arrived, and sooner than expected. Dad was pleased, because he always loves having his sons around him…he enjoys showing off a bit to us, and always expects us to give him over-the-top accolades. Anyway, I wasn’t well, my teeth were troubling me that weekend, and I missed out on a few meals with them. I finally did get to a dentist on Monday morning, and apparently I had two abscesses, and needed immediate treatment—surgery, actually. The dentist put me on painkillers, and because I was in agony I didn’t pay much attention to them, just took them as instructed, and went about my business…’ Larry stopped, stared off into the distance. Finally he turned to her, and said in a voice that was almost inaudible, ‘Although I didn’t realize it at first, Edward had set out to make trouble from the moment he arrived. Trouble for me, and perhaps, in a certain way, for Dad as well.’

Larry fell silent again, sat looking reflective, and after a moment, M said, ‘That doesn’t surprise me. In my opinion, your brother is your enemy.’

‘I think you’re probably right,’ Larry agreed. ‘He started to verbally pound me on Monday afternoon, telling me that Dad thought I should share the role with him, do it on alternate days to ease his burdens. And then, that night, Edward dropped a real bombshell on me. He told me that my father believed my mother was having an affair with another man, and that was the reason she hadn’t come to Canada.’

‘But she’s making a film, isn’t she?’ M asserted, her eyes narrowing.

‘Yes, and Edward said Dad’s positive she took the film in order to stay in London. To be with her lover.’

M looked at him askance. ‘Do you believe that?’

‘No. But if you really think about it, how would I know? I live in New York; she’s in London. I suppose it could be true. On the other hand, I don’t think infidelity is quite her style.’ He broke off, shaking his head. ‘All I know is that Edward insisted my father believed this, but that I couldn’t, mustn’t broach it with Dad because it had been a confidence between them, not to be repeated to me. However, Edward has always loved to upset me by saying mean things about our mother. He’s always been a bit of a bastard, and he’s jealous of me, of my success as an actor—that I do know.

‘In any case, everything got out of hand after that. The next day I went back to the dentist, and much later, when I returned to the hotel, Edward and Dad were having a terrible row. It was all about Edward’s messy private life: the ex-wives, the live-ins, his kids. And Dad was also really furious because Edward had asked for a loan of twenty thousand pounds in order to solve his personal financial mess.

‘I’ll spare you the details, because none of it was pretty. Then Edward turned on me, for no reason at all, said I was a no-talent, spoiled brat and Mum’s favourite; that I hadn’t produced any grandchildren to carry on the great Vaughan theatrical dynasty, whilst he had, and yet he was being punished for it. All his babble genuinely upset Dad, and he became even more enraged when Edward blurted out that I didn’t believe the story about Mum’s so-called affair. Edward announced that I had actually pooh-poohed it. Dad saw this as some kind of betrayal on my part, and told me so in no uncertain terms.’

‘Where was all this happening?’

‘Mostly in Dad’s hotel suite. Dad is a stickler for decorum, so our differences were put to one side when we were in public. But it was pretty bloody awful, and I think Edward was really off the wall last week.’

‘Do you think it was an act? A ruse to get money out of your father, and also to punish you by insulting your mother? And he was setting your father against you, wasn’t he?’ she pointed out.

Larry simply shook his head, looking as puzzled as M.

She then asked, ‘There’s one thing I’m not clear about…did your father ask you to share the role of Cyrano with him?’

‘Not exactly. He vaguely mentioned it when I first got there, said what a wonderful thing it would be for the producers if we did that, two big names, father and son, all that crap; but when I said I wasn’t interested, had to be back in New York for my own work, he just dropped it, laughed, and said he’d only been kidding.’

‘But was he?’ M now gave Larry a penetrating stare, convinced that his father had needed help with a difficult part, no matter what he believed.

‘I just don’t know,’ Larry eventually responded. ‘But he mentioned the same thing to Edward, and Edward took it seriously, and very much so.’

‘Don’t tell me Edward’s actually sharing the role of Cyrano with your father?’ M sounded astonished, and she couldn’t help marvelling at the duplicity of Larry’s brother.

‘For the next month. Then Edward’s taking it on by himself, and he will play the part until the end of the run. After that one month in the play, sharing the role, Dad will be let out of his contract and he’ll go back to London. Edward will be the star.’

‘And the producers accepted this?’

‘Why not? Don’t forget, Edward’s had the lead in a very successful American television series for years, and now it’s finished it’s gone into re-runs. Listen, it plays in Canada as well as the US and the UK, and Edward’s a big name. Obviously not to be sneezed at, as far as the Canadian producers are concerned. Therefore, no problems.’

‘Edward’s pretty devious, isn’t he?’

Larry grimaced. ‘And then some. As for my father, I do think he was serious when he asked me to share the role, but when I refused he dismissed his offer as a joke, not wanting to appear foolish or needy.’

‘So he does require help with the part. Is that what you’re saying? And that’s why Edward is in the picture?’

‘No, I’m not saying that at all. Dad doesn’t need help with the part, he practically knows it off by heart by now; he’s done it enough times in the past. What he wants is company. He’s lonely, M. Very much so. You see, he’s used to being surrounded by his family. My mother, Thomas and Horatio in London, and also Portia and her little girl, and his brother Jack, and Jack’s brood, his daughters Eloise and Diana and his son Maximilian. Our uncle and cousins. I’m sure you know that my Uncle Jack and his offspring are actors, and very much a part of our theatrical dynasty, don’t you?’

M nodded. ‘Yes, of course I do, and they’re all marvellous, by the way.’

‘What I’m getting at is that on reflection I do believe my mother should have been with him in Canada.’

‘So why did she take the film?’ M asked, a brow lifting.

‘Money. It’s always about money with my parents. They have a big overhead, and Dad’s tried hard for years to put money away for us. I keep telling him to stop, that we can fend for ourselves, but he won’t listen.’

‘Is he going to lend money to Edward?’

‘I don’t know, it never seemed to get resolved when I was there. But I doubt it. Dad simply can’t spare it, I’m sure. I guess they made a deal about the play, though. Edward’s probably getting all the money, and Dad’ll take this loss just to get home to Mum.’

‘To find out what’s going on with her?’ M suggested pithily.

‘That as well, yes, but mainly I think he’s motivated by his loneliness. He’s lost when he’s away from our bunch. “His lot”, as he calls us.’

‘I can understand that,’ M murmured. ‘I come from a large family myself.’

Larry sat back, his expression thoughtful, as if he was pondering something. He said, very slowly, in a low voice, ‘The point of that whole story is this, M. I was so aggravated and nervous because of the rows, my father’s upset, and Edward’s lousy treatment of me, and in terrible pain with my teeth, I just kept popping pills. Unfortunately, I became hooked on them again.’

M sat up, stared at him blankly, unable to say a word, frowning, wondering what he meant by ‘hooked on them again’? She didn’t dare ask, afraid of the answer. She held herself still, waiting.

Clearing his throat, Larry hurried on: ‘There’s something I must tell you. About five years ago I had pneumonia, and I became addicted to the prescription drugs I was given, especially anything containing codeine. My mother was the first to become aware of it, and she got me into a rehab clinic in London at once. I had eight weeks of treatment. There were some rumours about me being hooked on pills at the time, but my mother managed to keep the lid on the story. Fortunately, through a great PR woman, the rumour was soon well and truly quashed. I survived with hardly a blemish to my reputation, and went on to do some good work. I won a few awards and stayed clean. And I knew I must never touch prescription drugs ever again.’

‘I see,’ M murmured, then asked, ‘So why did you?’

‘Truly it was the extreme pain with my teeth, and the horrendous aggravation Edward caused, his battering of me. I don’t blame my father at all. But Edward’s a menace, dangerous.’

‘Then you can’t go near him ever again. You must keep him at a distance.’ Leaning closer, M continued in a steady voice, ‘You must go into a rehab clinic here, Larry, I honestly believe you need help, and so does Dr Branden. He told James Cardigan he thinks you have an addictive personality, and obviously you do, in my opinion. You must get help.’

‘Yes,’ he said, throwing her an odd look and quickly asked, ‘By the way, how did you find Matthew Branden? Through James?’

‘That’s right. When I discovered you on Saturday, at lunchtime, and saw the state you were in and couldn’t rouse you, I didn’t know who to ask for help. I was afraid to call an ambulance, because I knew your presence in a hospital would leak out, be perceived as a drug overdose, especially in view of your fame. But I was terrified you were going to die if I didn’t get assistance. I was really scared and at a loss. So I called James, asked him to bring a doctor, and he showed up with Dr Branden, who’s his own doctor and a friend.’

‘Thank you, M, thank you for saving my life.’

‘I think we all saved it, Larry—in fact I’m sure of it. And that’s why it can’t happen again. Listen to me, heed what I say. What if you took prescription drugs again when you were alone? You might accidentally kill yourself. You must promise me that you’ll go into rehab. At once,’ she repeated more forcefully. She stared at him, her face set, her voice tough when she added, ‘I do mean this week. You must go and see Dr Branden, and he’ll get you into the right place. Immediately.’

‘The right place is Silver Hill in New Canaan. I’m sure he’ll arrange for me to go there.’

‘Do you know it?’

‘Only by reputation.’

‘And you will go? Definitely? Do you promise?’

‘Yes, I don’t want to die, I don’t ever want to get into that kind of mess again.’ He took hold of her hand. ‘I promise you I’ll get myself cured, and as fast as possible. It’s the first of November on Wednesday. I’ll have the whole month to clean up. You see, I’d still like us to get married in December.’ He smiled at her, but the smile slipped when he saw how unresponsive she was.

‘You’re still angry with me, aren’t you?’ Larry asserted, continuing to stare at her.

‘No, I’m not; I was never angry with you, Larry, certainly not about the drug overdose,’ she replied in a businesslike tone. ‘I was only frustrated and exasperated when you didn’t return my calls. Furious…and hurt.’

‘I should’ve called,’ he murmured, filled with regret. ‘I tried, but there was always a row, or something erupting or problems—’

‘And late at night,’ she exclaimed, interrupting, ‘when you were alone and could’ve called me, you didn’t because you were stoned—knocked out flat by the Vicodin, no doubt.’

Ignoring her sarcasm, he said, ‘Yes, you’re correct. I was. All I wanted, needed, was to sleep. Also, my teeth were troublesome.’ He took a deep breath, unexpectedly changed the subject. ‘Anyway, I want to hear your news. I know the shoot went well, so what was the final result?’

She had to resist the temptation to say something nasty to him and instead remained silent, gazing at him through accusing eyes.

He saw the hurt look in them, reached for her hand, edged closer to her, and said in a genuinely contrite voice, ‘I’m sorry, honestly I am. And I’m very delinquent. I’ve been so busy talking about myself and my problems with my brother and my father, I never even asked you about your news. Oh, M, I’m so sorry.’

‘My news is that I’m about to become the new face of Jean-Louis Tremont. He’s building half the haute-couture spring/summer collection around me, and I have to be in Paris by the middle of December for my fittings. I’m planning to sign the contract later this week.’

‘Hey, darling, this is wonderful news! Congratulations! He must have been thrilled with your pictures, wasn’t he?’

M nodded, but she wasn’t prepared to give an inch at this moment, the hurt and worry uppermost in her mind. ‘Jean-Louis flew over to New York, because Kate Morrell, who runs the American end of his business, was convinced I should be his “New Face”, as she calls it. It did go well, very well indeed. Luke took marvellous shots, and I guess I’m on my way.’

‘I’m so happy for you, and very proud. So, can we get married before you leave for Paris? And can I come with you? It could be our honeymoon, couldn’t it? That would be wonderful…Christmas in Paris, together on our honeymoon. Oh, M, please don’t look so angry, please say yes.’

She sat staring at him, her face still cold, closed, thinking of the past week. At last she said in her quietest voice, ‘It was six days, Larry. I didn’t hear from you for six days. I called you every day, sometimes twice, and left messages, and not a word from you.’

Unexpectedly, against her own volition, she burst into tears, began to sob, all of her pent-up emotions of the previous days coming to the fore…her frustration, anger, worry, and fear for his life converging, overwhelming her.

He brought her into his arms and soothed her, hating himself for what he had done, stupidly, unthinkingly. He was instantly filled with guilt and shame, and he was afraid…afraid of losing her, this wonderful, marvellous girl who had become his whole life. What a blasted fool he had been, letting Edward verbally abuse him, get to him. He should have just packed and left Toronto. Instead, he’d fallen off the wagon, as his mother called it, fallen into the role of victim once more, and he was appalled at himself.

M sobbed and sobbed as if her heart were breaking, and he didn’t know how to stop the tears or calm her down, and so he just held her tightly, trying to soothe her, promising her he would never let her down again, never hurt her in any way. And eventually there were no more tears to shed; she lay limp in his arms, still heaving. Eventually he lifted up her face, looked into her eyes, and told her with absolute sincerity, ‘I give you my word I’ll see the doctor tomorrow. I’ll go into rehab at once. I’ll be clean for the rest of my life. I’m so sorry I did this to you, M. Please believe that.’ He sighed deeply, went on, ‘I should have told you about the problems I had five years ago. By not telling you I was lying by omission. And we mustn’t do that to each other. There must only be truth between us.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘Only truth. And it’s all right, Larry, honestly. I do love you…with all my heart.’