smiling.
They strolled home, yawning, for it was very late. As they got into the elevator a middle-aged man appeared, hurrying. Travis held the doors open for him, calling, ‘It’s all right, Sam, I’ve got it.’
‘Thanks,’ said the man. He smiled and nodded at Charlene.
‘Charlene, this is my friend, Sam Barton. He and his wife live on the floor below us.’
‘And you don’t have to tell me who this is,’ Sam said, shaking her hand. ‘You’re the talk of LA.’
The three of them exchanged pleasantries until the elevator stopped, and Sam bid them goodnight, departing with a curious look at Charlene.
‘Nice guy,’ Travis said as they finished the journey. ‘We must have him and his wife to supper. You’ll like Rita.’
‘Are they in the business?’ Charlene asked. She had fallen easily into the habit of referring to the entertainment world as ‘the business’ as though there was no other. In Los Angeles it was easy to believe that was true.
‘In a way. He works in one of the studios, on the financial side. She used to be a model and a dancer.’
In her own room she prepared for bed, then went to stand by the window and look down on the gleaming city. Just below, she could see the garden, and Travis, sitting there. He was leaning back against a tree, his eyes closed, his lips moving.
It would be fascinating, she thought, to be a bird in the nearby bush, and hear what he was saying. But she doubted she would ever understand him. Today he’d puzzled her afresh-calm, agitated, unpredictable, but never less than the kind man she valued so dearly.
She drew the curtain and stepped back.
Down below, Travis opened his eyes, glancing up to the top of the building. Again he murmured the words that had struck a nerve.
‘“Useful piece of stage equipment.” Well, I’ve been warned.’
They settled into a comfortable pattern, treating each other with the cheerful friendliness of siblings. At her suggestion, he began calling her Charlie.
‘She’s the real me, sensible and practical. Charlene is the fantasy version.’
He nodded. ‘Very clever.’
He had to be away for a few days, shooting outdoor scenes. Every night he called to ask how she was, and she reassured him. Neither of them ever mentioned Lee.
She was glad of a few free days free. It gave her some time alone, which she felt she needed. Now everything about her had changed. Heads turned in the street, people nudged as she went past. If she’d needed confirmation of Travis’s fame, she was getting it.
Now some of it seemed to have rubbed off on her. Cameras appeared, voices called, ‘Look this way.’ She obliged, careful to look pleasant, but always escaped quickly.
‘And they keep asking me to give them a quote,’ she told him. ‘I don’t, of course, but they’re getting pressing.’
‘I’m sorry you’re having a hard time.’
‘I didn’t say I was having a hard time.’ She laughed. ‘It’s got its funny side, but I don’t want to risk saying the wrong thing.’
‘We’ll sort it out, I promise. We need to arrange things so that they come out the way we want. I’ll be home soon. I had hoped it might be tonight, but there’s been a big delay. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
In fact the delay was cleared up sooner than expected, and he managed to make it home at three in the morning. The apartment was dark and he entered quietly.
But as he crossed the hall he heard a burst of laughter from Charlene’s room. He wondered what could make a woman shriek with laughter at this hour, and didn’t like any of the answers he came up with.
The gentlemanly thing might have been to creep away, without asking questions about something that was none of his business. But he wasn’t feeling like a gentleman. If that was Lee, and he had a horrible feeling that it was, then the silly girl must be protected.
Then came her voice again.
‘Oh, come on, you can’t do that. No, really, you mustn’t. Behave yourself!’
Travis didn’t hesitate. In a flash he had the door open, seeking Charlene and whoever she was entertaining. But then he stopped on the threshold, taken aback by what met his eyes.
She was alone in the room, sitting at the dressing table, talking into a cellphone. She glanced up at him, and said, ‘Travis has just walked in.’ She looked up at him. ‘It’s my grandparents.’
‘Your-?’
‘I told you about them. They called me from Nairobi and I’ve been telling them all about you. Hello-Emma, yes, he’s still here. You can talk to him.’ She handed him the phone.
Even far away in Nairobi they had heard the news from Los Angeles and wanted to thank him for befriending her. Charlene switched the phone onto ‘hands free’ so that she could hear their voices and join in, and they all spent a very jolly ten minutes.
Afterwards he sat on the edge of the bed, trying to pull himself together.
‘You look absolutely knocked out,’ she said sympathetically. ‘Can I get you something?’
‘No, I’ll go straight to bed, thank you. I just need to get some sleep and…goodnight.’
He got out, fast.
Over breakfast next morning he said, ‘You really scared me last night, telling someone to stop what they were doing. I thought a man had broken in.’
‘No, it was just Frank and Emma. It’s incredible, at their age they’re such a pair of clowns.’
‘Yes, they sounded like good fun,’ he agreed. ‘I’ll hope to meet them some day. When are they coming back?’
‘Not for six weeks.’
‘But you’re not in a rush to leave me, are you?’
‘No, I like it here, if it’s all right with you.’
‘It’s a deal then.’
They shook hands and spent the rest of the meal making domestic arrangements. Travis had a cleaner who came in three times a week, but apart from that he managed for himself. When it came to food, he either ate on the way home, arranged a takeout or made himself a basic snack. Charlene made a list of his favourite meals, studied it and set herself to practise seriously.
‘You’re a great cook,’ he said a week later. ‘You get better every day.’
‘I do my best.’
‘Then congratulations. It’s a fantastic best.’
‘And there’s something else.’ She took out a large envelope, filled with pieces of paper. ‘I found this by accident. It just fell out and I had to gather up the papers from the floor.’
He groaned. ‘They’re receipts I’m supposed to send to my accountant. I’m afraid I let them get into a mess.’
‘I can see that. And where you’ve made notes and done sums-well, never mind. I’ve been through, trying to put them in some sort of order.’
She handed him the list she’d made, and his face brightened.
‘Hey, they actually make sense. I could send this to my accountant without a load of apologies. That’s great!’
‘So you don’t mind? You don’t feel I violated your privacy?’
‘Charlie, you can violate my privacy any time you like,’ he said fervently. ‘In fact there are several things-’
In a short time she was privy to all his financial details, including investments. His accountant was a big name but there were a hundred smaller matters that Travis needed to get organised before sending them to him. And
