London, the following June
From: [email protected]
To:
Subject: Urgent
Dear Nick
Hiya. I don’t know quite how to word this so I’ll get to the point. We have a daughter. She’s called Elisabeth. Beth for short actually. She’s eleven. Please contact me. It’s really very urgent.
Love Fran x
PS Photo attached!
No matter how many times actor Nick Wells read and reread the email he couldn’t get it to sink in. It made no sense. He was a dad? Had been for all these years? Without knowing? Detached, confused, deceived – these words barely summed up his shock.
He sat on a white leather sofa as big as a family car, in the lobby of the exclusive London apartment block where his brother Alex and his family were temporarily living in a smart penthouse until they could find a forever home of their own to move into. He’d been looking forward to meeting his new niece and nephew but since he’d seen Fran’s email in the taxi on the way over from St Pancras Station, a state of emotional paralysis had taken him over. Suddenly all he wanted was to get this done and he’d be out of here. The enthusiasm of boarding the Eurostar in Paris for a flying visit during a break in his shoot had evaporated.
He’d have to speak to his girlfriend Toni. They’d hardly spent any time together the past two or three months. The chances of changing that, turning something wild into something solid, a real relationship, seemed increasingly unlikely now.
He scanned the lobby, the wall of glass at the entrance, the shiny marble walls and floor, the light-filled space – it was all very different from the ramshackle old house he and Alex had shared with a bunch of friends in North London when he’d gone straight from school into his first acting role. During that brief time he and his twin had come close to leading normal lives. The memory tied a knot in his gut because that’s when he’d met Fran, working on the television show that had turned out to be his big break.
Agitated, he shoved his phone in a pocket, got up and walked over to the reception desk. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the shiny walnut veneer. He’d brought a gift basket for the babies which was balanced on one arm. He set it down and stepped away as if it was something rather embarrassing, waiting for the militarily-efficient concierge to get the go-ahead from Alex to buzz him through to the elevator.
‘Sorry for keeping you waiting.’ The concierge eyed Nick curiously.
‘What’s taking so long?’ He felt transparent as if the whole world had read Fran’s email.
‘They’re with magazine people. Taking photos of the new arrivals. You can go up as soon as I get the okay from the other Mr Wells.’
‘So they’re doing a family photo shoot are they? They kept that quiet.’ The reception desk phone rang and the concierge picked up. ‘The okay?’ Nick signaled a hopeful thumbs up.
‘Yes.’
‘Finally!’
He stepped into the glass elevator wishing he’d asked to use the stairs instead. His stomach churned as the ground below got further and further away. He set the beribboned gift basket on the floor, gripped the handrail with both hands and closed his eyes.
Reeling vertigo gave way to relief as he stood outside the polished oak door. When the door opened Alex locked him in a hug. ‘Hey! Great timing! We just finished.’
Close behind, Nick’s sister-in-law Maggie appeared holding Phoebe. ‘Hi.’ With her stylishly casual, blonde hair gathered up in a tufty knot, she swayed the baby and proffered one cheek. ‘Welcome Uncle Nick!’ He bent and gingerly air-kissed Maggie, anxious not to lean too close, scared he might crush her she was so delicate and tiny. He was awed by the baby.
He followed them into the vast living room and his stomach climbed into his throat. Through floor to ceiling glass, London lay spread out before him. He tried not to look. He couldn’t live here. If he stayed well back from the windows he’d be okay-ish. He grabbed onto the nearest surface, a granite counter top in the open plan kitchen. He sucked in a deep breath and let it go slowly.
Fighting his anxiety, he flattened the palm of his hand on the cold granite surface. Avoiding looking at the windows, the London Eye, the Houses of Parliament, the river, he zeroed in on a photo stuck to the fridge with a red magnet the shape of a London bus. It was keeping in place a picture of Alex and Maggie’s wedding. He picked out the figures in the wedding party. The bride and groom looking so happy. And his mother and father. They were shoulder to shoulder, smiling, in the same photo. That was previously unheard of. It was difficult to believe the picture wasn’t photo-shopped. Next to them was Maggie’s mother, the best man, AKA himself, and the bubbly bridesmaid, the girl with the sexy curves, the vivid red hair and the green dress. She jumped right out of the photo. He’d forgotten her name but he remembered her worrying about whether or not it was bad luck to wear green at a wedding. She’d talked about nothing else in the car on the way to the church.
‘Come and meet our son,’ Alex prompted.
Nick forced a tight smile and let go of the kitchen counter, steeling himself to venture closer to the terrifying views.
Over by the windows little Horatio was being fussed over, cradled in the arms of the photographer while her assistant pointed out the London sights to the infant. Alex joined them and took his baby boy in his arms.
Having a lightbulb moment, the photographer waved a small camera. ‘Guys, I have a brilliant idea. How would you feel about a few behind the scenes shots? Casual? The photos behind the photos?’
‘Cool,’ Maggie beamed. ‘What do you say?’ She walked over to stand next to him. ‘The babies meet Uncle Nick?’
She went to hand over Phoebe. He recoiled. ‘Leave me out of it.’
‘But you’ve come specially to see them.’
‘To see them, yes. I don’t want to hold them.’ Maggie’s face clouded. She looked stricken. He felt terrible. All of a sudden he’d developed a new phobia. ‘I don’t know how.’ He made an effort to lighten up, disguise his reaction of horror. ‘I haven’t done it before.’
‘There’s nothing to it.’ Carrying Horatio, Alex joined them. ‘It’s amazing how quickly you get used to them.’
‘Try.’ Maggie held Phoebe out to him. His head pounded. He held out a finger to the baby. She took it in her little fist.
‘Strong grip.’
‘Take her,’ she encouraged.
The tiny fingers uncurled and he reclaimed his finger. ‘I can’t,’ he said, ‘I don’t want to. She’ll ruin my suit.’
Maggie laughed. ‘Nonsense. Take off your jacket and come over here.’ He shuddered as she pushed him towards a sofa. Anchored amongst the cushions he absorbed the knee-knocking view. His reaction to heights, he’d expected. A fear of babies, he hadn’t.
The photographer buzzed around, picking up a couple more cushions, and arranging them either side of him. Instead of objecting, he slicked on a professional smile.
‘Crook your arms,’ she instructed. ‘There’s a first time for everything.’
His heart lurched as he was forced to cradle not one, but two babies. In an instant the moment had been captured on camera.
Alex sat down next to him. ‘Not freaking you out too much?’
‘The babies? Yes, a lot actually.’
His brother laughed. ‘I meant the apartment.’
‘That’s freaky too. But not half as scary as these.’ He wished he was joking. Alex took Horatio from him. Phoebe squirmed, reached for her foot, grasped a sock and pulled it off, revealing five diminutive toes. He stared, taking in her tiny nails, her soft baby scent. When Maggie took her from him, he faked charmed reluctance, careful not to hand her back too eagerly, aware he’d offended her before. ‘How’s the house-hunting going?’
‘Good. We’ve seen a place we really like, but we want to take another look round before we make an offer.’
‘I bet you’ll be sad to part with your place in Cornwall.’
‘She won’t have to,’ Alex pointed out. ‘We’re keeping it as a holiday home.’
‘You know my friend Layla?’
Layla! That was her name. ‘Sure.’
‘I’ve asked her to revamp the cottage for us, redecorate the whole place.’
‘That’s what she does?’
‘Sort of. Amongst other things. She’s very arty. Anyway, it needs an update, and she’s agreed to turn it into a seaside bolt hole for us, somewhere we can escape to when we need to get out of London.’
‘Great,’ he said distractedly, ‘Sounds awesome.’
His gaze roamed the room wondering how to tell Toni about the email. His throat dried. They’d been dating for less than a year. But he’d started to think that this could be it, he could turn his life around with the socialite.
The powdery fresh smell of the babies lingered in his nose. Seeing Alex and Maggie together, he was struck with doubt. It wasn’t possible to visualize a future like this with Toni, even without Fran’s game-changing news. Could a relationship with a European princess ever be halfway normal? When he was in Paris she was in Rome. She’d been in London last weekend but it hadn’t fit with his schedule and this weekend she was with friends in Vienna. Unnerved, every muscle in his jaw tensed, as if he was bracing himself for a slap in the face.
As soon as the casual photos were done, Alex and Maggie took the babies into the spare bedroom-slash-nursery to settle them in their cots for a nap, while the photographer and her assistant packed up their stuff.
‘Bye Nick. Lovely to meet you. Thanks so much for agreeing to be photographed with the twins.’
‘You’re welcome. Good to meet you too.’ Nick shook her hand.
Still chatting excitedly about the babies, her new line of babywear designs, styling A-listers and the TV contract she’d landed on a popular morning show, Maggie accompanied the two women out into the corridor to wait for the elevator.
While she was away Alex grabbed a couple of cold beers from the fridge. ‘How are things in Paris?’
‘Not so good. The studio scenes were okay, but now we’re on location I’m leaning on the stunt guys much too much. We shot a rooftop chase last week. I nearly had a heart attack. I panicked. I hate relying on stuntmen. If it gets out, I’ll be the biggest joke in Hollywood.’
‘What are you afraid of? That’s what stunt doubles are for.’
He felt the reassuring pressure of his brother’s hand on his shoulder but a shiver ran down his spine. ‘I just wish I could chill about it and do my own stunt work. I’m not a natural action hero. I don’t have a head for heights.’
‘What does the production team say?’
‘I didn’t tell them. Because I wasn’t the casting director’s number one choice for the role in the first place. If the executive producers decide to make a sequel and word about my phobia gets around, they might rule me out, hire someone who’s more cut out for the role than me.’
‘That’s not going to happen. There’s no one better than you for the part. You’ll nail it. But not if you suffer in silence. Tell somebody.’
Nick admired his twin brother. He’d looked up to him since they were kids, but Nick had never been good at taking advice. ‘I can’t.’
‘So you’ll do what? Keep quiet and hope for the best? That’s not much of a plan.’
‘You’ll be the first to know if I think of a better one.’ He slugged his beer. ‘Alex?’ He clenched his teeth, uncertain whether to share the news in Fran’s email with his twin. He caught his brother’s eyes and knew by his look that he sensed something was wrong.
‘What? What’s up?’
‘Do you remember Francesca Matthews?’
Alex laughed. ‘Of course I remember. You were crazy about her for all of about five weeks. What about her?’
‘I’ve got a problem. Look.’ He tapped at his phone and handed it to Alex so that he could read the email for himself.
‘Is she for real? Why’s she only telling you about this now?’
‘I know, right?’
A muscle in Alex’s jaw twitched. ‘Have you opened the attachment?’
Nick shook his head, too deeply wounded to admit that he hadn’t had the guts to look at the photo.
‘Do you want me to?’
‘No. Give it here.’ He took back his phone and swiped the screen. ‘Okay here goes.’
The picture of a girl, pretty with fair hair and almond brown eyes opened on his phone. His heart froze and he passed the phone to his brother.
‘I’ve got to admit she’s the spitting image of you.’
‘What do you think I should do?’
‘If I were you I’d demand a DNA test. It might sound harsh, but it’s the best way forward. You’ve got to know for sure if she’s yours. Not just for your sake. For hers!’
‘What about what you just said? She looks like me.’
‘Looks can be deceptive. Take us!’
‘True.’ Nick had to agree. They were fraternal twins, and although they were a similar height and facially their bone structure resembled each other, Alex had dark hair and blue eyes whereas he was fair with brown eyes. ‘What I don’t get is why she kept this from me? Why didn’t she tell me eleven years ago?’
‘Exactly. Just because the girl looks like you doesn’t mean she didn’t get those looks from someone else. Arrange a paternity test. And you should hire a good lawyer to act as an intermediary, give you some legal advice.’
‘I don’t like the sound of that.’
Alex shrugged. ‘You might want to think it over before you do anything.’
Nick looked at the photo again. He had a feeling. He didn’t reckon a DNA test would change the fact that was staring him in the face. And Fran said she needed him to make contact urgently. There wasn’t time to go looking for a legal expert. He could do that later if necessary.
‘Listen. Can you keep this to yourself? Just until I’ve had a chance to find out what it’s all about? Don’t say anything to Mum. There’ll only be fallout and histrionics.’
Alex nodded solemnly. ‘You want me to keep it a secret from Maggie?’
‘I wouldn’t ask you to, normally. But it’s my secret, not yours, and as you pointed out I might not be the dad at all.’
‘Fair enough. There’s no sense in getting everyone excited about the idea of a new family member until you know if it’s true.’
‘Right.’
‘Let me see the photo again.’ Alex took the phone from his brother’s hand and studied it carefully. ‘I’ve got a feeling you’re a dad though.’
‘Same.’
‘Let me know as soon as you get the test result. You don’t need me to tell you to be careful how you handle this. The press getting hold of it could give you a lot of grief. I can think of one or two journalists who’d have a field day with a piece on Nick Wells abandoning a baby at birth and refusing to acknowledge that she’s his!’
‘That’s not how it is.’
‘It doesn’t matter. You know that.’
Nick had to physically hold back from face-palming. His reputation in the press was mud. He’d been making a real effort to change. He was tired of the love-rat image which had followed him around for the last ten years. He hadn’t minded when they were acting in hit TV show Mercy of the Vampires in LA. In fact he’d thrived on it – part of the hype that went with heading up the cast with his brother.
‘If it’s true it’s personal. Not for public consumption.’
‘You may not have a choice. You need to tread carefully. Fran didn’t want anything from you for eleven years? And suddenly now she does?’
Coming back into the apartment Maggie made a beeline for the gift basket. She untied the ribbon, and rustled the cellophane wrapping in a flurry of anticipation revealing soft toys and an array of cute presents. ‘This is gorgeous Nick. Thank you.’
‘I have a confession,’ he said, ‘I had a personal shopper pick stuff out. I don’t know the first thing about babies.’
‘Join the club. Funnily enough not many of us do until we have one of our own.’
Alex threw a look of love towards his wife. ‘In our case two.’
Injured by Fran’s email Nick bit back his emotions and buried his fear.