‘You’ve had your fun but this is downright cruel. It’s all very well for Guy bloody Cassidy to warn me against giving you the third degree but ‘I am your sister, after all. So stop pretending to be interested in my glittering career and tell me everything, before I explode!’
Janey glanced at her watch. Nine whole minutes; whoever would have thought Maxine would be capable of restraining herself for that length of time?
‘Everything you need to know?’ she said innocently. ‘Right. Well, first of all you sieve the flour into a bowl. Don’t forget to add a pinch of salt. Then you--’
‘Stop it!’ Maxine shrieked, picking up a dripping, slippery mass of seaweed and advancing towards her. ‘Tell me about Alan. Tell me why he left ... why he came back ... what he’s been doing ... what you’re going to do.’
The trouble was, by the time Janey had finished telling her, Maxine was no longer so sure she wanted to know.
What she found almost impossible to understand was the fact that Janey actually seemed to believe the incredible line her bastard of a husband had been stringing her. As far as Maxine was concerned, she’d never heard such a heap of total and utter bullshit in her entire life.
‘... So that’s it,’ Janey concluded, reaching for the Bollinger and tipping the last of it into their empty glasses. With a sidelong glance in Maxine’s direction, she said with a trace of defiance, ‘Go on then, your turn. You must have an opinion.’
Mere words couldn’t even begin to convey her opinion of Alan Sinclair, thought Maxine, almost beside herself with silent rage. But she also realized she’d been right about Janey, who clearly wouldn’t tolerate even the mildest of criticisms. One wrong word and she would leap to Alan’s defence. Any suggestion that he might have been less than honest and it would be champagne corks at thirty paces.
But she was an actress, thank goodness, and she could out-act even her unspeakable brother-in-law any day of the week. For the sake of her pride, Janey was going to have to make the discovery of just how unspeakable he really was, in her own time.
For the past week, Maxine’s dramatic talent had been stretched to the limit, pronouncing -
in entirely convincing tones - ‘When you have Babysoft in your bathroom, you know you have the best.’ Now, perched on a cold rock at the far end of Trezale beach, she stretched it that little bit further and said simply, ‘Oh Janey, what on earth were you expecting me to say? You’re happy, and that’s good enough for me. I’m glad he’s back.’
They were making their way back along the shoreline when Janey unwittingly asked the question Maxine had been gearing herself up for.
‘So what else happened in London? You must have gone to a few parties; did you meet any nice men?’
Janey was carrying the glasses. Maxine, who had stuffed the empty Bollinger bottle inside her jacket, was skimming pebbles across the water. She watched the last pebble collide with a wave and disappear from view. A gust of wind blew her hair into her eyes and she used the extra seconds it gave her to compose herself.
‘I went to a party,’ she said finally, ‘and met a nice man.’
‘And now it’s my turn to be kept in suspense?’ Janey protested. ‘Come along now, don’t be shy! Give me the gory details.’
‘I’ve known him for a while.’ Maxine took a deep breath and wished she could have persuaded Guy to part with two bottles of champagne. A little extra Dutch courage would have come in useful. ‘But until the party I didn’t even know I liked him. You know him too; quite well, in fact. And I don’t think you’re going to like it much when I tell you who it is.’
Janey thought hard for a moment. With a perplexed shrug she said, ‘Well, you’ve got me.
But if it’s an actor ...’ Her eyes widened in mock amazement and she clapped her free hand to her chest. ‘You don’t mean ... Mel—’
‘Look, he loves me and I love him,’ said Maxine rapidly. ‘It’s serious stuff. I know you hate him, but you have to believe me ... for the first time in my life I really do feel—’
‘Mel Gibson?’ shrieked Janey, and several seagulls beat a panicky retreat.
‘Bruno.’ Maxine’s shoulders stiffened in an unconscious gesture of defiance. There, she’d said it. Now all she had to do was pray Janey didn’t burst into tears.
But Janey was starting to laugh. ‘Is this a joke? Max, that’s not fair. Come on now, I told you everything!’
‘And now I’m telling you. It really isn’t a joke.’ The words spilled out fast, jerkily. Maxine took another steadying breath. ‘He turned up at the party on Friday night and practically kidnapped me. Except I wanted to be kidnapped,’ she amended, a shiver running down her spine even as she recalled the sheer romance of it all. ‘He wants to marry me. He’s leaving Nina. Oh Janey, it was as much of a shock to me as it is for you, but it just happened! I can’t even begin to describe how I feel ...’
‘Well,’ said Janey as the gulls continued to wheel frantically overhead. ‘I’m stunned.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry I’m stunned, or sorry it’s Bruno?’
‘You know what I mean.’ Maxine bit her lower lip. ‘I’ve been dreading telling you. Do you absolutely hate me?’
‘I don’t hate you. I can’t believe you’re being so incredibly stupid,’ sighed Janey, ‘but of course I don’t hate you. Max, the last time I came for a walk along this beach, somebody gave me the most almighty lecture. I can’t remember it word for word, but it had something to do with keeping well away from Bruno Parry-Brent because he was an unprincipled, sex-crazed, triple-timing shit-gigolo-bastard who would bring me nothing but everlasting grief.’ Pausing, she tilted her head to one side. ‘Now does that ring any bells with you, or do you have a twin sister I don’t know about?’
‘Oh hell,’ said Maxine uncomfortably. She braced herself once more. ‘Look, I know I said all those things but that’s the whole point; he would only have made you miserable. You’re a nice person and you expect everyone else to be nice, too. You’re trusting, unselfish, honest; as far as people like Bruno are concerned, it’s practically an open invitation to behave badly. They can’t resist it. And I know,’ she added with passion in her voice, ‘because I’m like Bruno too. I don’t trust men, I’m a selfish bitch and I lie like the clappers. Don’t you see, Janey? Bruno and I were
