Bella was shaking like a leaf now, trying to stop herself from crying.
‘They all hated me in the town,’ she said. ‘They drew their curtains and whispered behind their hands about how evil I was. For three days I was alone in the house, surrounded by all those damn wreaths of lilies. But I couldn’t think about anything except Steve leaving me. I was half crazy with misery. It was only after a while that I realized what I’d done to my mother. Then the nightmares started.’
‘What happened then?’
‘I came South. There was a little money left when the house was sold. I got a scholarship to RADA, changed my name to Bella Parkinson, told everyone my father was a librarian, my mother a schoolmistress. Lies I told so often I almost came to believe them.’
She looked down at her hands, ‘Now you know everything.’
‘I knew most of it already.’
‘You did? But how? Did Steve tell you?’
‘A little. I’ve got a good information service.’
Bella gave a hollow laugh. ‘No wonder you didn’t want me to marry Rupert. The bastard daughter of a murderer. Hardly Debrett is it?’
‘I didn’t care a damn about your background.’
She looked up in surprise. Lazlo didn’t seem appalled, or angry or contemptuous, or any of the other things she’d expected anyone she’d ever told the truth to be. For once his dark mocking face looked completely serious.
‘Look,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t matter what happened before in your life. No-one minds except you. It’s what you are — talented, funny.’ He glanced down at her blotched, tear-stained face and smiled slightly. ‘Yes, even beautiful, that’s important. The Henriques have a pretty seamy past if you study it. Only four centuries back they were raping, looting and murdering to get the things they wanted. They just did it a few hundred years earlier than your father did. Besides, he wasn’t a murderer. He just killed someone in a fight.’
‘Like you did,’ said Bella.
‘Like I killed Miguel Rodriguez,’ said Lazlo, his face hardening.
Gently, he laid her back in bed, and got to his feet. ‘I’m going to get you a sleeping pill.’
It was only when he came back that she realized he was still dressed in the black shirt and dirty white trousers he’d been wearing all evening.
‘Why weren’t you in bed?’ she said.
‘I was reading. I don’t sleep a great deal. There’s usually something, or — er — someone better to do.’
She suddenly realized she was only wearing a very transparent nightgown, and that Lazlo had been holding her in his arms, and that only two nights ago, when he’d pretended to be Steve, he’d practically raped her. She felt herself going scarlet and slunk down under the sheets.
‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I shouldn’t have bored you with my problems.’
‘Bella,’ he said in amazement, ‘you’re apologizing to me. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?’
‘Don’t tease me,’ she said in a strangled voice. ‘I’m not in the mood.’
He laughed. ‘Hell being a woman isn’t it? It’s just not your century.’
Chapter Fifteen
She felt like a convalescent recovering from a very bad attack of ’flu the next day. She found herself impossibly shy of Lazlo, hardly able to meet his eyes. Most of the day she slept in the sun. And in the evening she sobbed herself stupid over
Next day he’d driven Bella back to London to start rehearsals on
Bernard, her hairdresser, picked up a strand of her hair.
‘That’s a bit of a mistake, duckie,’ he said. The pink rinse had turned green in the sun.
‘I’ll say,’ said Bella crossly. ‘I’ve decided to go back to my natural colour.’ Bernard looked appalled, ‘But what on earth is it?’
‘A sort of dark mouse, not unattractive.’
‘But, darling, you’re crazy. You’ve been blonde for years, no-one’ll recognize you. It’ll ruin your image.’
‘I’ve got to play a very mousey girl in my next play.’
Alas, no woman is a dedicated artist to her hairdresser.
Bernard grinned slyly. ‘Don’t give me that, dearie. You’ve met some nice, straight bloke who you think doesn’t like dyed hair.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Bella crossly. But she blushed crimson.
The weather grew even hotter. She had to rehearse all afternoon. It was impossibly stuffy in the theatre. She was just getting her teeth into her part when something happened to wreck her concentration. Five minutes later she was back in her dressing room.
‘What on earth’s the matter?’ said Rosie Hassell in alarm. ‘It was going so well.’
‘It’s Johnnie,’ stormed Bella, glaring at the handsome blond boy who played Konstantin, who was leaning against her dressing table.
‘Didn’t you see him sneaking on to the stage and letting loose that toad. He knows I’m terrified of toads.’
Johnnie started to laugh. ‘Bella, angel, the scene is played beside a lake. It should be absolutely crawling with frogs and toads and things. I was only trying to inject a little realism into the act.’
‘You were not,’ shouted Bella. ‘You were trying to put the fear of God into me.’
‘Oh well.’ Johnnie shrugged his shoulders. ‘If you’re going to be stuffy.’
‘I am. I bloody am.’
Roger Field stood in the doorway frowning. Two of his leading players hurling abuse at each other cannot have been the most edifying sight, but Bella was past caring.
‘I’ll report you to Equity and get you kicked out,’ she screamed at Johnnie.
‘That’s enough, Bella,’ said Roger. ‘The whole theatre can hear you.’
‘I don’t care,’ Bella shouted. ‘Do you know what he did? He put this toad. .’
‘All right, pack it in, Johnnie. Take that toad back to the Thames, or wherever you found it. I’ll talk to you later.’
Grinning broadly, Johnnie slouched out of the room.
‘I’ll kill you, kill you, kill you!’ Bella screamed after him.
‘Stop bawling like a fishwife,’ said Roger. ‘There’s someone to see you.’
‘I don’t want to see anyone,’ snapped Bella. ‘I want you to stop that horrible boy putting toads in my. .’ Her voice trailed off, for in the doorway stood Lazlo.
‘I’ll leave her to you,’ said Roger. ‘I hope you make a better job of calming her down than I did.’
Bella was speechless for a minute. Then she said, ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Watching your rehearsal,’ said Lazlo. ‘I was going to tell you how good you were, but I’m not sure if you deserve it. I’m glad you get abusive with other people besides me,’ he said.
‘It’s not funny.’ Bella slumped down in her chair and gazed at herself in the mirror. Mousey hair scraped back in an elastic band, shiny face without a scrap of make-up, shirt soaking with sweat, splitting jeans. Oh, damn, damn, damn. She’d meant to be so silken and beautiful next time she met him.
‘What do you want?’ she said, ungraciously.
‘I was going to ask you out to dinner, but I won’t if you’re going to be so ratty.’
‘Oh, well,’ she blushed and shuffled her feet.
