Eleanor turns away. ‘Wait here,’ she says over her shoulder.
Amy is desperate to pee. When a girl rushes past, Amy taps her on the arm and asks where the loo is. The girl indicates with a flick of green-painted nails at the gap through which Eleanor went.
Amy follows a corridor past filing cabinets, girls at desks and racks of equipment. Eleanor is stretched out on a white leather recliner talking on the phone. She does not see Amy. On the other side of the vast studio, a girl stands under brilliant lights. Several people dressed in black fuss around her. Seymour is bent over a camera on a tripod.
‘Seymour! Sorry, darling but you have to take this call, he won’t talk to me!’ barks Eleanor.
As Amy slides into a bathroom, she sees Seymour shake his shoulders in annoyance.
David looks up. A police car is pulling into the front yard. He stands, then sits down.
‘Is this the property of Mr Seymour Stratton?’ says one of the three policemen getting out of the car.
‘It is,’ replies David strumming a chord, ‘but Mr Stratton is not here.’
‘We have a warrant to search the property,’ says a second policemen. ‘Is there anyone else living here at present?’
For the next hour, two policeman search the farmhouse, cottage and outbuildings. A third man stands near David; it’s unnerving that he looks younger than him.
The sun has moved and David sits in shadow. He is cold. When the phone rings again, David does not move.
‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ asks the policeman.
The phone stops ringing, then starts again almost immediately. ‘Is there someone you don’t want to talk to?’
‘No, not at all.’ David jumps up guiltily. As coolly as he can, walks to the office followed by the policeman. ‘Hallo?’
‘Hallo. Am I speaking to David Bond?’
‘Yes, it’s me. Who’s this, please?’
‘This is Sister Sarah. It’s about Maggie Bond who is your sister, I understand?’
‘Yes, she is. Why, what’s happened?’
‘Your sister was involved in an accident this morning. A horse kicked her in the face. She’s been to X-ray and now she’s in my ward with concussion and a badly-fractured jaw. She’s comfortable, not quite awake yet but coming round. You can visit tomorrow afternoon between two and four o’clock.’
‘I see. Oh my God, this is an awful shock…You say she’s alright? I must phone our mother. What ward number is it? Please send Maggie my love. Say I’ll call Mum and I’ll be in to see her tomorrow.’
When David comes off the phone, he sees the policeman has been listening.
‘It’s my sister,’ he says. ‘She was kicked by a horse and is in hospital with a broken jaw.’
The policeman grimaces. ‘I’ve got a sister. Wouldn’t like that to happen to mine. Bit of a tricky day for you, all in all, eh?’
It is fortunate that one of the policeman searching the property has a fondness for dogs. Seeing Molly in a pen with her pups distracts him. When his superior calls his team together, this sergeant does not admit he has not completed part of his search. The marijuana plants growing among the tomato and cucumbers in the greenhouse remain undiscovered.
‘Hallo?’ says Seymour.
He hopes he does not sound as irritated as he feels. He didn’t want to do this low-rent catalogue job in the first place. Photographing leisure wear on second-grade models was not how he wanted to spend his time. But increasingly few design departments had the big budgets required for major fashion shoots these days. He wanted the job finished by mid-afternoon. Which was not going to happen if he was disturbed.
‘Seymour, hallo. It’s Naresh.’
‘Naresh? Oh, hi man. I haven’t had time today to call my lawyer friend, I’m busy doing…’
Naresh interrupted: ‘I’m not calling about Sunil. It’s about Julian.’ Naresh speaks in a measured way. ‘He’s been arrested. His friend Simon and I saw him being taken away by the police. And Simon was beaten up. He’s here with me at the shop.’
‘What? What?’ Seymour stares at the receiver in his hand. ‘Hold on a minute, please.’
Eleanor, hearing the tone of his response, is moving towards Seymour. He stalls her with a raised hand.
‘Eleanor, I have to leave for Somerset immediately. I’ll tell you everything later.’
He heads off her question when she opens her mouth. ‘No questions. Stay here. Help Andrew complete the shoot.’
He nods at one of the young men dressed in black, who stands up a little straighter.
‘The shot list is planned, the models are booked. This project must be finished today. Andrew and Eleanor will see that it is. Now excuse me.’
That’s when he sees Amy on the far side of his studio. He shakes his head in frank disbelief, dips into a side room and shuts the door firmly behind him.
‘Hi Naresh, I’m back. Listen, can you or Simon get down to the police station? We need to get a message to Julian. Tell him my lawyer will be there as soon as possible. Until then, Julian should say nothing to anyone. Assure Julian that I’m on my way. And thank you. I won’t forget this, Naresh. ’
Seymour leaves a message for his lawyer. Then he gathers his jacket and car keys and leaves the studio.
Amy is pressed against the sofa as though she might melt into it.
Eleanor glowers over her. ‘You never answered me, Amy. Why are you here?’
‘Getting a ride back to the farm,’ she says jumping up and piling down the stairs after Seymour.
24
Her favourite female singer is on the radio. Melanie’s husky voice is celebrating roller skates and her quirky song fills the car as Seymour edges his vehicle though the traffic. People on the pavements could be wearing skates, they whisk along so quickly. Amy sighs with relief.
‘Turn off the radio,’ Seymour snaps.
She glances at the crowd. At least she’s not part of that frantic melee. She’s riding with her lover who, even if he’s grumpy, makes her feel like a starlet.
