Private Lives

‘Yeah, you know how it is when you’re in the zone,’ he lied.

‘And would that zone happen to include the South of France, too?’

Sam swallowed.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Sam, I read the British papers. You were spotted at Moulin de Mougins on Saturday looking very friendly with a pretty brunette. If you were trying to stay off the radar, it didn’t work.’

Sam swore under his breath. He hadn’t intentionally taken Anna to such a famous restaurant; he’d just wanted to treat her, make her feel special. But now it was out, he knew he’d made a big mistake. To the gossip mags, it would look as though he was sneaking around, trying to keep his new relationship a secret – and that would only make them more interested. And just when he wasn’t sure what he’d got himself into.

‘So who is she, Sam?’ said Jim.

‘Anna Kennedy.’

‘The lawyer?’ gasped his agent. ‘The one who dropped you in this shit? What, was it a thank-you for fucking up the injunction? Or just for fucking up your life?’

‘Jim, you know it wasn’t like that, and besides . . .’ he hesitated, ‘I like her.’

Jim didn’t say anything for a moment.

‘And have you heard about Jess?’ he asked finally.

Sam frowned.

‘What about her?’

‘Jessica’s been in a car accident, Sam. That’s why I’ve been calling you.’

‘You’re kidding me!’ His heart seemed to skip a beat. ‘When was this? How is she? Was it bad?’

‘Last week, and she’s okay, but that’s only because someone up there is watching over her. Some crackhead ploughed into her in a stolen car; she could have been crippled.’

‘Jesus,’ whispered Sam, feeling a flood of guilt. What if she had been badly hurt, or even killed? And this was last week? Why hadn’t he heard about it? He’d been trying so hard to refocus, he hadn’t bothered taking anyone’s calls – except Anna’s.

‘Where is she now? Hospital?’

‘Back home. Barbara’s looking after her.’

‘I should call her,’ he panicked. ‘I mean, if you think she’ll even take my call?’

‘Buddy, it’s always worth a shot.’

He called her the second he got off the phone with Jim. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to say, but he felt he needed to speak to her. After all, they’d been engaged a long time; you couldn’t just turn those feelings off like a tap. Or a faucet, perhaps.

‘Hello?’

Sam’s heart sank. Jessica’s mother.

‘Hey, Barbara, it’s Sam,’ he said as brightly as he could. ‘Do you think I could speak to Jess?’

There was a cold silence for a moment.

‘I really don’t think she wants to speak . . .’ said Barbara, then the line became muffled. In the background, Sam could just make out the exchange: ‘Lemme speak to him.’ ‘No, you’re not up to it, he’s only gonna upset you.’ ‘Gimme the goddamn phone.’

There was some bumping and hissing, then Jessica came on the line.

‘Sam? Is that you?’ Her voice sounded shaky and weak. Sam felt dreadful.