Give Me Tomorrow Page 3

  Once the half-term week was over, Susan suggested to Karen that she babysat Peter at her house. It was a relief to get out of the flat although she dreaded the state the flat would be in on her return each evening. She also tried not to think about the heavy telephone bill Louise was running up. She used the landline all the time. It never seemed to occur to her to use her mobile. The worst of it was that most of her calls were long-distance ones to her agent and various other people.

  When she ventured to ask if there was any news about the so-called ‘exciting prospect’, Louise merely shrugged and muttered something vague about ‘these things taking time’.

  Susan asked Karen why she and Louise had fallen out but her daughter was cagey, shrugging it off as a ‘storm in a teacup’.

  ‘If she’s taking advantage, Mum, just kick her out,’ she said, and although Susan agreed that she would, they both knew that it was easier said than done.

  Louise had been at the flat for ten days when Susan began to have a suspicion that the marvellous job she had been so effusive about was either a non-starter or all in her mind. She became quiet and preoccupied and jumped every time the phone rang, racing to be first to pick it up. Then suddenly one evening, her mobile phone trilled out. Rummaging for it in her bag, she listened in breathless anticipation to the voice at the other end and slowly a look of excited relief lit her face. The call seemed to last forever but eventually Louise said goodbye and ended the call and looked at her stepmother, her face wreathed in smiles. Her whole demeanour had changed.

  ‘I’ll be off tomorrow morning, Susan,’ she said cheerily. ‘It’s been lovely staying with you and I really appreciate it. Thanks a lot.’

  Susan’s heart leapt. She was going at last! ‘Was that your agent?’ she asked. ‘Was it about the job?’

  Louise nodded. ‘Well, fingers crossed. There are some details to iron out yet. But anyway, I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.’

  She left soon after breakfast, before Susan had left for Karen’s.

  ‘Thanks for everything, Susan. I’ll be in touch,’ she said, pecking her stepmother on the cheek.

  ‘Where will you be staying?’ Susan asked.

  ‘With Dianne, an old friend from drama school. She’s got a flat in Earl’s Court and she’s always happy to put me up for a few days. I rang her last night. Would you just ring a taxi for me while I gather my stuff together?’

  As she disappeared into the bedroom, Susan lifted the receiver. One more call and it would all be over.

  Ten minutes later, she watched from the window as Louise stepped into a taxi down in the street.

  She was bursting with her news as she took off her coat later at Karen’s.

  ‘She’s gone,’ she said briefly, knowing there was no need to elaborate.

  ‘Louise – gone? Just like that?’

  ‘Just like that. She had a phone call yesterday evening and announced right after it that she was leaving this morning. She’s gone already.’

  ‘So – is it a job, or what?’

  ‘I asked that. She just said something about an exciting possibility.’

  ‘I take it she’ll be sponging on her friend, Dianne, again.’

  ‘She did say she’d be staying with her, yes.’

  ‘Oh well, at least you’ve got your home to yourself again. I’m sorry, Mum. I’m afraid it was partly my fault you got saddled with her.’

  ‘I wish you’d tell me what you quarrelled about.’

  ‘Maybe I will one of these days,’ Karen said, putting her coat on. ‘For now, just be thankful that she’s gone. If you’ve got any sense you’ll say no next time she asks to stay. I’m going to. It’s time we left her in no doubt about how we both feel, Mum. She’s always ridden roughshod over us and it’s time we called a halt to her freeloading. After all, she can’t be hard up.’ She kissed her mother’s cheek briefly. ‘Thanks, Mum. I’ll have to dash now.’

  What Karen said made good sense. It was high time they told Louise a few home truths. But she had the distinct feeling that Louise would find a way to be the injured party when they did. Somehow she always did.

  Chapter Four

  It was my fourth birthday that day. I’d had a party and I was really sleepy when I went to bed but something woke me. Rising up the stairs, I heard my parents’ raised voices. I couldn’t make out the words, just the frightening tone of their voices, sharp and ugly with anger; Mum’s shrill and Dad’s hoarse and rough. They were rowing again. I felt my heartbeat quicken and my tummy churned sickeningly. Pulling the covers over my head, I stuck my fingers in my ears. I must have gone to sleep again because suddenly it was morning and I was awake. Slipping out of bed, I padded through every room on my bare feet, searching the whole house for Mum. When I couldn’t find her, a wild panic filled my chest.

  ‘Mum!’ I heard myself screaming. ‘I want Mum!’

  ‘Lou – Lou, wake up!’

  Someone was shaking my shoulder.

  ‘Lou, you’re dreaming again. Wake up now, love, everything’s all right.’

  I opened my eyes to see Dianne standing beside the bed. My heart was still pounding but I took a deep breath and sat up, shaking my head. ‘Sorry, Di. Did I wake you? Was I shouting again?’

  ‘Yes. I don’t know what those nightmares are about but they certainly seem to terrify you.’ Dianne sat down on the side of the bed.

  ‘I’ve had them on and off for most of my life,’ I admitted. ‘They usually recur when I’m nervous about something.’ I pulled myself up into a sitting position. ‘My parents used to have these horrendous rows when I was little and I’d wake and hear them.’

  ‘They must have scared you pretty badly if they’re still affecting you.’

  ‘They did. Then one morning my mum wasn’t there any more. I never saw her again.’ I shuddered, my stomach still churning at the memory of the dream. ‘When I was about eight I started getting bullied at school. The other kids said my dad had killed her and buried her body in the garden. That gave me even worse nightmares. Then, on my ninth birthday I got a card from her so I knew it wasn’t true. She’d written her address on it. I managed to keep the card but I never got to see the letter she enclosed with it; Dad tore it up and wouldn’t let me read it.’

  Dianne laid a hand on my shoulder. ‘Shall I make you a cup of tea?’

  I shook my head. ‘No. I’ll be OK once the dream has faded.’

  ‘You’re seeing this mystery guy tomorrow, aren’t you?’ Dianne observed. ‘Is that what you’re nervous about? You didn’t tell me much about it last night.’

  ‘There’s a lot hanging on it.’

  ‘You’ve never really told me much about him – or this project he’s planning.’

  ‘It’s not really a mystery. I haven’t said anything because I didn’t want to jinx it. You know how superstitious I am. I didn’t mention it to anyone at home. They don’t have a very high opinion of me or my talent and they probably wouldn’t have believed me anyway. When I was down in Devon in the summer with the Sunshine Follies, Harry came down and brought this guy along. His name is Paul Fortune. He’s a musician and composer and he’s written this musical called Oh, Elizabeth. It’s based on Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. Harry brought him backstage afterwards and apparently Paul had been quite impressed by me in the show. He said that he saw me as the perfect actress to play Elizabeth Bennet.’

  ‘Wow!’ Dianne’s eyes widened. ‘So is it him – this Paul Thingummy that you’re meeting tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, I’m having lunch with him and Harry. There was some ground-laying work he had to do before going ahead, like booking venues and rehearsal rooms – setting up advertising and so on, which is why it’s taken so long, but now it seems it’s all systems go. The show kicks off in the provinces and then – fingers crossed – eventually moves into the West End.’

  ‘It sounds like a great opportunity,’ Dianne said. ‘And I do wish you the best of luck. You’re sure there are no strings attached, aren’t you?
’

  I laughed. ‘No, of course there aren’t. Harry’s hinted that he might ask me to put up a small amount of the money, but that’s not a problem. I’ve still got most of the cash I got for the house stashed away.’ I looked at Di. ‘You know how old I am and how long I’ve been waiting for a break. This could be it; my last chance at making the big time.’

  Dianne looked doubtful. ‘Mmm, I’d be a bit careful if I were you. How much do you know about this guy?’

  ‘Basically just that he’s someone my agent knows. But Harry and I go back a long way and I trust him.’

  ‘I see. What was your initial gut feeling when you met him – this Paul Fortune?’

  ‘Frankly, wow, what a hunk!’ I giggled. ‘The three of us went out to dinner after the show and Paul and I hit it off like a house on fire right from the off.’

  ‘Are you saying you slept with him?’

  ‘Oh come on, give me some credit. They were only there the one night. Even I don’t work that fast.’

  Dianne wrinkled her nose. ‘Just be careful, Lou. I know how much you want to grab what looks like a great opportunity and I also know how impulsive you can be. Just how much of your money is he after, if you don’t mind me asking?’

  ‘I’ve no idea, he might not want much at all,’ I hedged. ‘Anyway, it seems that every cast member will be putting a share in and we’ll all get it back, plus dividends when the show takes off.’

  ‘If the show takes off.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Di, don’t pour cold water on it. What makes you such a cynic? I don’t understand you. You were one of the most talented students in our year,’ I told her. ‘With your looks and talent, you could have been a star by now if you hadn’t given the idea of a stage career the elbow.’

  ‘Or I could have been penniless and homeless. The theatre is far too precarious for my liking, Lou, and in spite of what you say I never really felt I had any real talent. As it is I’ve got a good steady job that I enjoy, a nice flat and a reliable income and I still enjoy a bit of amateur work.’

  I grinned at her. ‘Bor-ing. Still, whatever floats your boat, I suppose.’

  ‘Do you think it’s a subconscious anxiety about this project that’s causing you to have these nightmares about your childhood?’

  ‘No. I get them from time to time. As for this new musical, I can’t wait.’ I paused, wondering whether to voice the thought that was in my mind. ‘I think I know what is causing them, though. Since Dad died I’ve been thinking a lot about my mother, wondering if she’s still alive and what she’s doing. I’ve had this really strong feeling that I’d like to find her again.’

  ‘Why, when she let you down so badly? It’s an awful long time ago and after all, you’ve got Karen and your stepmum.’

  I shook my head. ‘They’ve never felt like a real family to me. I’ve always felt like the odd one out. As a kid I felt resentful that they’d stolen Dad away from me. I think he understood that. It was probably why he left me the house. And I’ve never been able to shake off the feeling that the split might have been my fault.’

  Dianne shook her head. ‘You were only a little kid. How could it have been your fault?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. I suppose all kids from broken marriages feel like it. Anyway, I’d like to know the real reason for the split and only she can tell me.’

  ‘OK, so if you want to try and find her why don’t you go ahead? It shouldn’t be that difficult.’

  ‘I wouldn’t know where to start.’

  ‘They say that the Salvation Army is good at finding people. You could try them for starters.’

  ‘Well, maybe,’ I said. ‘But she could have married again – have a different name. Thinking about it and doing it are two different things. Anyway, my main priority right now is my meeting with Paul tomorrow.’

  ‘Have you ever talked to anyone about it?’

  ‘Trying to find my mother, you mean?’ I shook my head. ‘Susan and Karen wouldn’t understand. Neither of them ever met my mum. Dad married Susan when I was ten and there are too many years between Karen and me for us to feel like sisters. Anyway, she’s as different from me as chalk from cheese. She and her precious Simon are so bourgeois and horrendously smug with it. They always make me long to shock them out of their complacency.’ I bit my lip at the memory of the shoplifting episode. I’d never gone over the top quite that far before. It was a lot worse than a wind-up and I baulked at telling Dianne about it. She’d never understand. ‘I’m afraid I can’t resist rattling her cage,’ I said lightly. ‘Old habits die hard.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Dianne smiled ruefully. ‘I remember the practical jokes you used to play at drama school; quite merciless, some of them. But going back to your family – Susan’s always been a good stepmum, hasn’t she?’

  ‘I suppose so. She’s a bit of a pushover though. She never comes out with what she’s really thinking – just makes bland comments.’

  ‘Which – if I know you – makes you even more secretive?’

  I couldn’t help grinning. ‘You’re right. I try to keep in touch. I visit whenever I can but quite frankly, I don’t think any of them would give a damn if they never saw me again.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not true.’ Dianne glanced at the alarm clock. ‘Look, it’s past one. Maybe we should both get some sleep now.’

  Dianne looked in before she left for work at eight o’clock the following morning.

  ‘Here, I’ve brought you a black coffee.’ She put the cup on the bedside table. ‘Don’t go back to sleep.’

  I emerged from under the duvet and tried to force my eyes open. ‘Thanks, Di, you’re an angel. I’ll get up and have a cold shower when I’ve drunk it. That should wake me up.’

  ‘Well, good luck.’ Dianne hesitated in the doorway. ‘Lou – if you get a few spare minutes before you leave, could you tidy up a bit?’

  I bit my lip. ‘Sorry, Di. I know I’m a slob. If I get time I’ll put some of my stuff away.’

  ‘Great. And while I remember, there isn’t a scrap of food left in the fridge so maybe on your way home you could pop into the supermarket and get something for tea. I’ll have to dash now. Bye for now.’

  When I’d showered I did my best to tidy up the stuff I’d left lying about in Di’s living room. It wasn’t that bad and I felt slightly resentful that she’d actually asked me to do it. I’d have sorted it eventually, and this morning I had other things on my mind.

  Once I’d stuffed the last pair of tights down the back of the sofa and hung the towels back on the bathroom rail, I set about preparing for the coming meeting. In spite of what I’d told Susan, I actually only possessed one decent designer outfit, a classic black suit by Chanel. I washed my hair and borrowed Di’s hairdryer to blow-dry it. Twisting it up into the French pleat I peered at the roots. I should really have had them touched up but it was too late to worry about it now. It would have to do. Five years ago, a brightening rinse would have been enough to revive its vitality but now the dreaded greys were all too evident and I was till trying to ignore the faint lines that had begun to appear round my mouth. Sitting at the dressing table, I half-closed my eyes and regarded my reflection, thinking about Jane Austen’s Elizabeth Bennet, the part I was hoping to get. It would mean dropping almost twenty years. The one and only time Paul Fortune had seen me on stage I was wearing a glamorous evening gown and full stage slap, then later at the restaurant seated opposite him at a candlelit dinner table. When he saw me in the cold light of day, would he change his mind about offering me the part?

  I took a deep breath and reached into my bag for the little sapphire necklace that I’d relieved Susan of. It had belonged to my mother. I remembered seeing her wearing it and it should have been mine by right anyway, so when I saw it lying on her dressing table I had no feeling of guilt about taking it. I decided to wear it now – for luck. Fastening it round my neck, I slipped it inside the neck of my top. Then I laid out the collection of concealers, foundations and blushers
that would hopefully bring about the necessary transformation.

  The table for lunch had been booked at an Italian restaurant in the Strand. In my eagerness I arrived too early. Anxious not to appear too keen, I disappeared into the ladies’ and lost some time reapplying my lipstick and fussing with my hair. When I decided I was just late enough to appear relaxed yet not impolite, I gathered up all my courage and made my way to the bar.

  I spotted them at once and sighed with relief. At least they had turned up. Pausing, a little out of their line of vision, I assessed them both. They looked an unlikely pair; bald, bespectacled Harry in his usual formal dark-grey suit and tie; Paul in jeans and a black roll-neck sweater, his dark hair longish and flopping slightly over his brow. I took a deep breath and breezed in.

  ‘Hello, you two. I’m so sorry I’m late. I had such a job finding a taxi.’

  Paul stood up and offered his hand. ‘How nice to meet you again, Louise. What can I get you to drink?’

  I hardly tasted my lunch. In fact I can’t even remember what I ordered. I was too busy assessing Paul’s thoughts and wondering if he still felt the same about offering me the part. As soon as the dessert had been served, Harry made his excuses.

  ‘I hate to eat and run but I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you two now,’ he said, getting up from the table. ‘I’ve got an important meeting at two. But I’m sure you can manage without me.’ He smiled. ‘Let me know how your meeting goes,’ he whispered in my ear as he bent to drop a formal kiss on my cheek.

  ‘I’ll be in touch.’ I smiled up at him.

  When he’d gone Paul asked if I’d like a liqueur. I shook my head. ‘I won’t, thanks. It’s a bit early in the day. But don’t let me stop you.’

  ‘I don’t want any more to drink either,’ he said. ‘I prefer to keep a clear head.’ As he glanced at his watch I wondered if, like Harry, he was about to make an excuse to leave, but he looked at me enquiringly. ‘Look – if you’re not doing anything else this afternoon, would you like to come back to the flat with me? I could play you some of the numbers I’ve written for the show and you could have a copy of the script to take home and read. What do you say?’