‘As close as, damn it. You had your victory and then I was no more use. I congratulate you. Cutting out the dead wood is good business practice, although even a heartless robot like myself hesitates before using it on people.’

‘Don’t call yourself a heartless robot,’ she cried. ‘I’ve never said that-’

‘Can you swear you’ve never thought it?’

‘No…never…’ she said jerkily.

‘You’re lying. The truth is there in your face. You’ve thought that and worse. Charlie told you I’m a control freak, didn’t he? And perhaps I am. But I’m not the only one, Pippa. Maybe I have pulled the strings of Charlie’s life, but so have you. The difference is that I pull strings in the open, not behind anyone’s back.’

Seeing that she was too stunned to speak, he turned with an air of finality and went to the door.

‘Be sure to send me your bill,’ he said, and walked out.

She could hear his retreating footsteps, followed by the sound of the elevator going down. She felt cold-deeply cold, too cold to move-with a coldness that would last for the rest of her life, freezing her heart, turning her to something inhuman.

But Roscoe already saw her as inhuman. His contempt left no doubt about that.

And that was good, she told herself resolutely. He was safer that way. As long as he was safe, she could bear anything.

Charlie called her, full of excitement about his approaching big night.

‘Mum’s giving a big party that night,’ he bubbled, ‘and she wants you as the guest of honour because you made it all happen. She’s thrilled about my new career. Roscoe can’t understand it.’

‘Obviously he isn’t thrilled.’

‘He wouldn’t be, would he? I don’t see him any more now I’m out of the firm, and he won’t be at home on the night. OK, so I’ll tell Mum you’re coming.’

‘Charlie-’

But he’d hung up, leaving her reflecting that Roscoe wasn’t the only member of his family who liked to call the shots.

The day of Charlie’s show started badly, with another car breakdown. This time Pippa faced the inevitable and dumped the vehicle. She took a taxi to the Havering house, arriving to find all the lights on and Angela waiting for her on the front step, flanked by neighbours who clapped and cheered as her taxi drew up.

‘Roscoe’s not here,’ Angela confided. ‘He’s so annoyed about the programme that he’s not coming.’

‘How do you feel about it?’ Pippa asked.

‘It’s what Charlie wants. And besides,’ Angela added in a low, confiding voice, ‘he can be a bit of a naughty boy, and if he gets into a little trouble now and then, well-it won’t matter so much, will it?’

So, despite appearances, there was a realistic brain beneath that fluffy head of hair, Pippa thought. More realistic than Roscoe about some things.

Dinner was a banquet, and then everyone crowded around the huge television screen on the wall. There was the opening music and the announcer came on.

‘Hello, folks! It’s time for Pick a Star, the programme where you, the viewer, vote the star in and the dunces off. And tonight’s contestants are-’

As soon as Charlie began his comedy act, everyone knew this was the winner. None of the other seven contestants could hold a candle to him. Even Pippa, who knew how rigorously Lee had had him trained as a favour to her, was impressed by his quality.

‘Now it’s voting time, folks-the moment when you choose the winner. Here are the phone numbers.’

When he got to Charlie’s number everyone scribbled frantically and hauled out their cellphones to ring and cast their votes. Angela dived for the house phone and put her call through.

‘How long do we wait?’ Angela asked.

‘Half an hour,’ Pippa told her, ‘but Lee said there wouldn’t be any question. He’s sure Charlie will win and go on into the next round but, even if he doesn’t, Lee’s got an agent already interested in him.’

The minutes crawled past and at last it was time to gather around the set to learn the winner. When Charlie’s name was announced, the room erupted.

There he was on screen, triumphantly repeating his act, his face full of delight, and more than delight: fulfilment. The applause grew, the credits rolled. It was over.

One by one, the guests departed. A beseeching look from Angela made Pippa stay behind the others and she understood that Angela didn’t want to be alone. Her house was going to be very empty now.

She led the way into the conservatory and poured Pippa a glass of champagne.

‘It’s so kind of you to stay a while, my dear. I know everything’s going to change now, and I’m ready for it as long as Charlie is doing what will make him happy.’ She added in a confiding tone, ‘I must admit that I hoped you and Charlie…but there, he says you’re like a friendly big sister.’

‘I hope I am.’

‘Oh, dear, how sad.’

‘Sad?’

‘I would have loved to welcome you into the family as Charlie’s wife.’ An idea seemed to strike her. ‘You don’t think you could make do with Roscoe, do you?’

‘What?’

‘I know it’s a lot to ask, but you never know, you might make him human.’

‘Angela, please don’t go thinking like that. There’s no way Roscoe and I could ever…please don’t.’

‘No, I suppose you’re right. I’m being selfish, I suppose. I’ve always wanted a daughter because you can’t talk to a man as you can to a woman, and I’ve had nobody to talk to since my husband died. Charlie was just a child and Roscoe…well, he’s only interested in making money. To be fair, he gives it too, but he seems to think that’s all that’s needed.’

‘Gives it?’ Pippa echoed cautiously.

‘He’s got charities he gives to, hospitals in the Third World, that sort of thing, but signing cheques is easy. It’s affection he finds difficult.’

‘But maybe it’s just a different way of showing affection,’ Pippa said urgently. ‘Putting your arms around a sick child is fine and beautiful, but if that child is dying for lack of the right medicine, then surely it’s the man who signs the cheque that buys the medicine who’s shown the real feeling? At any rate, I’ll bet that’s what the child’s mother would say.’

Angela stared at her. ‘You sound like Roscoe.’

‘And he’s right,’ Pippa said robustly. There was a curious kind of satisfaction in defending Roscoe when he wasn’t there. It was when he was there that the trouble started.

‘Have you ever tried to talk to him?’ she asked gently. ‘You might find more sympathy in Roscoe than you thought.’

‘Do you think so? Have those wonderful all-seeing eyes of yours bored into him and found something the rest of the world missed?’

This was so close to the truth that Pippa was momentarily lost for words. She recovered enough to say, ‘Who knows? He works so hard at not letting people see what he’s really like, almost as though part of him was afraid.’

‘Afraid? Him?’

‘Sometimes the man with the strongest armour is the one who needs it most for…whatever reason.’

‘You may be right,’ Angela sighed. ‘It’s just that I’ve always found it hard to forgive Roscoe for William’s death. If he’d taken on a bigger share of the work-’

‘But he was just a boy,’ Pippa protested. ‘About the same age Charlie is now. Would you blame Charlie in the same way?’

‘No, of course not, but-’ Angela checked herself as though the realisation had startled her. ‘Roscoe has always seemed different.’

Seemed is the word,’ Pippa said. ‘He was young, learning the business and probably completely confused. Then his father died. Maybe he blamed himself, then he discovered that you blamed him-’

Вы читаете A Mistletoe Proposal
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату