‘What is your problem?’ Her voice was quivering with anger.
‘Don’t you know?’ he said finally.
‘Know what?’ she whispered.
‘It’s not you, Jessica. It’s me.’ He dipped his head and played with his hands, pushing the knuckles into the opposite palm.
‘Tell me, Joe. What’s wrong? Because I’m feeling pretty stupid at the moment.’
‘Look,’ he said, rubbing his hand across his mouth. ‘I’m gay.’
‘Gay?’ she repeated. It just wasn’t possible. Joe Kennington was the most macho man in America, an icon of straight-ahead masculinity – he was a father of two, for God’s sake! Jessica wasn’t naive; she knew at least a dozen Hollywood leading men who were hiding in the closet, but Joe? That was just crazy. She wanted the ground to swallow her whole.
‘But you and Sia . . .’ she said, sitting down next to him.
‘I love her, don’t doub
t that,’ he said. ‘And we were a real couple when we got married.’
‘So your kids . . . not out of a tube, then?’
He laughed, and the atmosphere lifted a little.
‘No, they’re all natural. And completely wonderful. So is Sia, but I guess she wasn’t enough.’ He sighed, shaking his head. ‘I’ve always preferred men, but I knew I’d have to hide who I was when I came out here, that’s just the way it is in Hollywood. But when I met Sia, I really did fall in love with her. I thought it was the real thing, and in a way, I was glad. It made life so much easier. Until I met Greg. He’s a teacher from Montecito. We share a house together now, right by Tori Adams’s weekend place.’
‘Shit,’ whistled Jessica, and he laughed.
‘Exactly. I’m older now, but not old enough that people wouldn’t care.’ He turned to look at her. ‘And you know what? It’s not about the money; I’ve got enough of that. It’s because I love what I do and I want to keep on doing it. Does that sound selfish?’
She smiled.
‘What the hell are you asking me for? I’m an actress in Hollywood, it doesn’t get more selfish than that.’
He smiled and touched her bare shoulder.
‘I was wrong about you, Jess.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I thought you were just another one of those hard bitches who’ll do anything to get where they want to go. But you’re okay.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, but she knew he was wrong. She would have fucked him and milked it for all it was worth. And she wouldn’t have given it a second thought. What was it he had said? That’s just the way it is in Hollywood. Damn right.
‘Still interested in the Clemente?’ She smiled.
‘Too right. It’s beautiful. I’ll get my art consultant to give you a ring this week, get a valuation.’
Jessica nodded. She really didn’t care how much it was worth, she just wanted it out of her bedroom. It had been a gift from Sam and held nothing but bad memories.
‘Hey, you know what?’ she said. ‘I’d love to see those Matisse sculptures of Tori’s.’
Their eyes met for a moment. Joe knew what she was saying: a favour for a favour. An invitation to Tori Adams’s party in exchange for her silence. Now that was what made Hollywood go round.
‘Sure,’ he said smoothly. ‘I’ll set it up.’
32
Andrew had been right: the village of High Marple was perfect, especially on a warm summer afternoon like this. Thatched roofs, flint walls, tidy little front gardens overstuffed with foxgloves and marigolds. The drive down had taken ninety minutes but had seemed quicker, with the windows wound down and the radio tuned to a cheesy eighties station as the meadows zipped by. Anna realised that the pressure she had been feeling over the past few weeks had been mostly self-inflicted. Yes, Helen Pierce had been watching her more closely than the Stasi, just waiting for her to slip up again, but Anna was fairly confident her work on the Balon libel trial had been spotless. And then there was Amy Hart. The rational side of her brain told her she was wasting her time, quizzing models and soap stars about the death of a party girl she had never even met. Yet there was an emotional pull to this case she had never felt in her working life before, and she knew that Amy’s death was something she wouldn’t stop thinking about until she had got to the bottom of what was going on.