In the Still of the Night

As he rang off, Harriet asked anxiously, ‘Annie wasn’t at home? She did say she was going to the hospital to see her mother.’

‘Maybe she’s still there, then.’ Sean dialled again. ‘I’ll get the hospital’s number from Directory Enquiries.’

He got the number and rang the hospital. After talking to the ward sister he rang off and looked at Harriet, frowning. ‘She saw her mother, and left there over an hour ago. What the hell can she be doing?’

‘Perhaps she stopped off on the way home to do some shopping?’

‘I’ll kill her,’ said Sean, his voice rough. ‘She’s supposed to be resting, not wandering around shops.’

Mike Waterford was eavesdropping. ‘Find Annie, and you’ll probably find Fenn,’ he drawled mockingly. ‘They go back a long way, don’t they, Harriet? That’s why she got him that part; it was a pay-off, to make sure he held his tongue. They’ve been an item, secretly, for years. I’m told she even had his baby.’

Sean and Harriet stiffened, exchanged startled, shaken looks. How on earth had he got hold of that story?

Mike drawled on, ‘I always knew she was a bit in the kinky line; if I so much as looked at her, she nearly threw a fit.’

‘She’s got good taste, that’s all,’ Sean said through his teeth.

Mike gave him a sarcastic smile. ‘Charming. No, the reason she didn’t fancy me was because she knew I’d want a normal relationship with her. She’s the type that only fancies older men. The Electra complex, that’s what they call it, isn’t it? Always looking for a substitute Daddy.’ He flicked a mocking look at Sean again. ‘Tough, Halifax. You’re not quite old enough for her. You haven’t got a prayer.’

‘Watch your mouth, Waterford,’ Sean said savagely. ‘There’s a law about spreading scandal, especially when what you’re spreading is a lie. Annie never had an affair with Derek and she never had his baby. If Annie sues you for spreading foul lies about her, it could cost you a lot more than money. Billy would sack you for damaging the series, for a start, and your fans might not be so keen on a hero who goes around spreading spiteful lies about Annie Lang.’

Mike didn’t back down, he gave a defiant, cynical grin. ‘Oh, but it isn’t a lie – I got it from a very good source! Fenn himself!’

‘Derek told you?’ Harriet was appalled. ‘But Mike, it isn’t true, believe me – I know for certain that Derek was lying.’

‘He actually told you, himself?’ Sean slowly asked, frowning, and Mike hesitated, then shrugged.

‘Well, no, actually it was Marty Keats in wardrobe who told me, but she’s been sleeping with Fenn, and she swears he told her.’

‘Well, one of them lied,’ Sean bit out. ‘So don’t go around repeating it, unless you want to get out of the series.’

‘Don’t you threaten me, Halifax,’ Mike Waterford said. ‘I’m not afraid of you!’

Sean turned on him aggressively, dark red with temper, his hands clenched into fists, and Mike looked startled, swung away, and walked off, hurriedly.

Harriet groaned. ‘It must be all round the studio by now. I’m going to have to tell Billy, you know. If I don’t and he finds out he’ll kill me.’

As they drove through the forest, Annie felt a strange stirring inside herself, as if she was waking from a long winter dream to find spring beginning. The day was chilly but bright, sunlight pierced the forest glades, gleamed among the dark trees, lit the vistas like searchlights, and when they parked outside the old house and walked up the flagged path she saw snowdrops among the withered grass like flakes of snow.

Johnny unlocked the front door, which creaked as it swung open. Annie’s heart was beating hard under her ribcage, as if trying to crash through it.

She walked into the house and heard him close the door behind them. They were alone in the house again and she was trembling.

‘You’re cold,’ he said, concerned. ‘I’ll make a fire in the grate.’

‘No, really …’

‘It won’t take five minutes. It’s laid, ready. I just have to put a match to it.’

He knelt down in front of the cold hearth and she had a vivid flash of déjà vu. He had knelt down like that, eight years ago, in front of that hearth, on a cold dark day in winter, and lit this fire for her, and they had lain down in front of it and made love with firelight playing over their naked bodies.

A deep sadness welled up inside her at the memory. The lost happiness shone like the sun piercing the forest. It had gone, it could never return; she would never be eighteen again, or as wildly, inexpressibly in love.

Johnny used the old bellows hanging up by the fire to blow life into the wood, which began to crackle, a tongue of flame licking hot and red up the black chimney.

He stood up. ‘Stay in front of the fire and I’ll make us some tea.’ He smiled at her and unshed tears burned behind her eyes, then he went out and she sat down on the faded old hearth rug and stared into the fire, seeing pictures in the flames. She automatically began feeding the fire with the wood kept in the brass scuttle on the hearth.

She remembered the night when a mouse had crept out from its hole while they were making love and had sat there watching them with bright, round eyes.