The next moment the car swung wildly around a corner so that she had to move quickly to cling to Travis.
‘OK?’ he asked.
‘Sure. No worries.’
‘Charlene,’ he said, as he sensed something amazing,
‘I guess I am.’ She chuckled. ‘Don’t ask me why. It’s mad, crazy. Whatever I expected, it wasn’t this.’
‘Me neither,’ he admitted. ‘But that’s life, isn’t it?’
‘I guess it’s more fun that way.’
‘Definitely. And at all costs, let life be fun.’
Now he too was laughing, enfolding her in his arms. She felt his body in her hands, against her own body, and she knew a flash of wisdom. It was lucky she was in no danger of falling in love with him, because otherwise this delicious moment could seriously threaten her common sense.
Luckily she was safe. Quite safe.
She repeated that again. Completely safe.
After a while he said, ‘I think we could risk it now,’ loosening his grip and easing her up from his shoulder.
‘I’ve made a mess of your hair,’ he said, brushing it back.
‘And of course my hair is what I’m chiefly concerned about.’
‘Well, some girls would be,’ he said wryly. ‘Never mind. When we get home you can spend the day looking after yourself.’
‘Where do you live?’
‘Beachwood Canyon, part of the Hollywood Hills.’
Soon she could see the land rising steeply above them, crowned by the famous HOLLYWOOD sign that defined this magical place. Much of Hollywood’s activities had now drifted to other parts of the city, but this was where it had all begun. Humphrey Bogart had lived here, also Charlie Chaplin. In this place was enshrined much of the city’s glamorous history, especially in the part known as Beachwood Canyon.
As they climbed higher and higher, Charlene gazed out of the window, riveted. Soon they were driving along a street lined with palm trees, until they came in sight of a three-storey block.
‘I’m on the top floor,’ he said.
His cellphone rang and he answered it impatiently. ‘Yes, I’m on my way-something came up-I’ll call you back.’
‘Am I making you late for work?’ she asked anxiously.
‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll show you in and then dash off.’
Luck favoured them in the elevator ride to the top, and they entered his home without being seen.
‘I’ve got to go now,’ he said at once. ‘The spare bedroom’s over there. Make yourself at home. Raid the fridge. The place is yours. Here’s my phone number. Call me if anything worries you.’
‘I can’t call you while you’re working,’ she said, aghast. ‘What would your bosses say?’
‘Nothing. The only thing that upsets them is if I damage my public image. But if I behave like a spoilt brat on- set it’s just dismissed as part of my “great star” personality.’
The wicked gleam in his eyes robbed the words of conceit. To him it was all a joke, she realised, and if the joke was against himself he enjoyed that best of all.
‘We’re not filming today, just rehearsing again. So call me if you need to.’
‘All right, I’ll do whatever you think best.’
‘Now that’s wisdom talking. And don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.’
He vanished.
Yes, she thought. He could make her feel that all would be well as long as he was there. It was a rare gift.
The apartment was luxurious but in a down-to-earth way that pleasantly surprised her. Instinct told her that the man who lived here wasn’t ‘full of himself’ as he might so easily have become. He just liked his own way. Which was fair enough, she reckoned.
Charlene spent the day as he’d said, making herself at home, eating a snack from the fridge, always alert for a call from Lee. But when the phone rang in the late morning it was Travis to ask how she was. Later he called again to say he was on his way home.
But from Lee, not a word.
When Travis arrived he gave her a searching look and said quietly, ‘Nothing?’
‘Nothing.’
‘He just needs a little time to think about it. Now, let’s have supper, if you can stand my cooking.’
He was no chef but his cooking was edible. As they devoured chicken he said, ‘Lee kept giving me some odd looks today. He doesn’t know whether he’s coming or going.’
‘I think he’d like to be going,’ she said sadly. ‘Then he could get away from me.’
‘He’s probably just confused. He might be a father, or he might not. He needs to know for sure before he can decide how he feels.’
‘You talk as if you know,’ she said curiously.
‘It happened to me once. We’d known each other a while, then she said she was expecting but she didn’t know if it was mine or not. In the end we found that it wasn’t.’
‘Did you mind?’ she asked, struck by a new note in his voice.
‘It might have been nice. A baby anchors you to reality, tells you where you belong.’
‘But you have all those brothers.’
‘Yes, but at a distance. I hear about them, and about my father, and it’s like getting messages from another universe. If her baby had been mine nothing could have kept me away, and Lee will probably be the same when he knows.’
‘Yes,’ she said, knowing she didn’t sound convinced.
‘Are you really in love with him?’
‘I don’t know. We had that time together-and it was so sweet, so close. I really wanted that closeness.’
‘I know the feeling,’ he said quietly. ‘And at least I had my brothers, even if they lived at a distance. But you have nobody except your grandparents, is that right?’
‘I have a stepbrother, James, but we’re not in contact. My mother and his father took a trip to celebrate their wedding anniversary, and never came back. Their plane crashed. The last time I saw James was at their funeral.’
‘And your grandparents? Are they any comfort to you in this situation?’
‘I haven’t told them. They know I’m in Los Angeles but not why. If it works out badly I don’t want to spoil their African holiday.’
‘So you knew it might work out badly,’ he said, ‘right from the day you came out here?’
‘Yes, well-you always hope for the best, don’t you?’
‘That’s right. Keep on hoping.’
Travis squeezed her hand and they sat in silence for a moment.
‘What do you think of this place?’ he asked at last, rising to fetch more coffee.
‘Fascinating. Especially your bookcase. All that Shakespeare.’
‘You were naturally surprised to find that a TV actor is bright enough to understand Shakespeare.’
‘No, I didn’t mean that,’ she said hurriedly.
He grinned. ‘Didn’t you? All right, I’ll take your word for it. Actually, the only play I know well is
‘Were you Lysander or Demetrius?’ she asked, naming the two young male leads.
‘Neither. I played Puck.’
Of course, she thought. Puck, the fiendish but delightful elf, described by one person as a ‘shrewd and knavish sprite’ and by himself as ‘that merry wanderer of the night’. He spent the play performing roguish tricks and laughing at the chaos that resulted.
Strangely, Puck was the perfect role for Travis. His ‘romantic hero’ looks might seem more suitable for one of the lovers but the sense of delightfully wicked mischief that pervaded him suggested a different story. And something told Charlene that this was his true self.
