Chapter 25
Felix sat in the meeting room, waiting for the others to arrive. Making use of the drinks machine, he’d poured a strong coffee and positioned himself at the far end of the table, facing the door. He wanted to get a good view of everyone entering, assess each member of the meeting fully. It had become a personal mission of his, to uncover the informer. Was he being a tad dramatic? No, on reflection he didn’t think he was. Surely everyone was entitled to their privacy? And, as Emma had pointed out, even more so if an ex-girlfriend with an axe to grind was pumping someone for information. Everybody knew how badly his and Anika’s relationship had ended. Hell, the whole world knew!
In Felix’s mind, there was no excuse to be so indiscreet. Whoever had informed Anika knew full well he wouldn’t want her to be privy to all his personal details. They obviously valued Anika over him. But who? That was the question he kept asking over and over.
Whilst he was in London, Felix had arranged to see Jennifer. Although they spoke often and exchanged emails, he missed her presence. Jennifer had always managed to keep him on the straight and narrow, not just career wise, but personally too. She kept him calm, stable. When all the bad press Anika had thrown at him was circulating, it was she who had given him good counsel. It was Jennifer who had saved him from breaking down, fearing his career would be over.
‘Who’ll want me, with this reputation?’ he’d said in defeat.
‘Your reputation is that of a damned good actor. This,’ she stabbed at the newspaper article, ‘is just a cheap pack of lies, as those stupid enough to read it will know.’
And, thank God, Jennifer had been proved right. She’d also advised him not to retaliate.
‘Never explain. Never complain,’ had been her direction, echoing the royalty party-line. That too had worked. Felix’s tight-lipped stance had created an air of intrigue and also esteem. Seeming to be above Anika’s malicious vendetta had earned him respect, especially in the film industry. The phrase, ‘all publicity is good publicity,’ had been proved true in Felix’s case.
Although Felix had no intention of speaking to the press about Anika’s arrest, he knew better than to assume it wouldn’t leak. Of course it would. A story like that was hot, sensational stuff and hardly likely to go unnoticed; the world and its wife would know exactly what he’d had to endure. He was about to become the injured party, and this time the good publicity would be most welcome.
All things considered, Felix was in a good position. The drama was on track, going well. He loved directing and… he loved Emma. It hit him like a bolt of lightning. Truth be told, he’d pretty much fallen for her when first hearing her sing. He pictured her sat at the grand piano in his huge, marbled hall singing, when he’d been struck not only by her sweet voice, but her beauty also. After seeing her again at the interview, he’d been drawn by her sparkling personality and sense of humour. Getting to know her further, he’d understood how both caring and grounded she was. She was the one and he’d do all in his power to keep her.
His thoughts were interrupted by Andy, the location manager.
‘Hi, Felix,’ he said, entering the room and helping himself to the drinks machine.
‘Hi, Andy,’ Felix replied, eyeing him carefully.
Andy turned and gave a cheery smile. ‘Had a good holiday?’ he asked, sitting down next to him.
‘Yes, thanks.’ Felix looked for any possible signs of guilt, but saw none. Andy was just his usual friendly self. Then in came mouselike Flo, the associate producer, followed by Mel, the casting director. As always, Flo appeared twitchy and agitated, but nothing new there. Whereas Mel was his usual confident self, though he did give Felix a rather uneasy glance before greeting him, which raised his suspicions.
Both the production and design managers were attending, but more crucially to Felix, the music director too. Laurence Willis had connections to the London Philharmonic Orchestra, and Felix needed to speak to the man.
As the meeting got underway, Felix reported that they were bang on schedule and hoped to get all the outside filming done within three weeks. This was met with nods of approval. Springtime would see the drama conclude, with the exception of the opening scenes which needed to be filmed early summer.
‘Or maybe late spring, if the weather’s decent,’ Felix advised.
‘Good to know it’s all on track,’ remarked the production manager, then turned to Laurence. ‘We’ve now to concentrate on the music, particularly the theme track.’
Felix waited with bated breath for the music director to speak.
‘Yes, I’ve been working on this,’ he replied with gusto, ‘and I really feel it requires lyrics to accompany the jaunty tune.’
Result, thought Felix. This was exactly what he’d been hoping for.
‘I see,’ said the production manager.
Felix coughed and cleared his throat. ‘Do you have a singer in mind?’ he asked.
Laurence looked surprised by the question. ‘No, not really. Why? Do you have any suggestions?’
‘Actually yes, I do,’ replied Felix assertively.
‘Who?’ asked Mel.
‘Emma Scholar,’ answered Felix, still looking at Laurence.
‘I don’t think I’ve heard of her…’ Laurence frowned.
‘No, you won’t have, but I’d like you to meet her,’ said Felix.
‘Emma? Isn’t that your housekeeper?’ Mel snorted with laughter.
Felix turned and gave him a deadly glare.
‘No, Emma’s my girlfriend,’ he stated, all the time observing the effect the information had on him. Mel did indeed look astonished by the news. Was this more juicy gossip to report back? He’d hated the way Mel had belittled Emma and had jumped in rather defensively. He faced Laurence again. ‘Emma is an extremely talented singer and I’d love to introduce you to her.’
‘I’d be delighted.’ Laurence smiled politely. Ever the gentleman, he too hadn’t cared for Mel’s attitude.
‘Okay, we’ll leave that with you both and you can give us an update next meeting,’ said the producer.
And so the meeting continued, lasting another hour. As it drew to a conclusion Felix felt a real sense of achievement. He couldn’t wait to tell Emma the news. As they all filed out of the room, he once more eyed Mel, who, he noticed, refused any eye contact with him. Could this be the mole?
Jennifer sat back in her armchair and considered what Felix had just
relayed. He’d called at her home in Richmond and they were in the living
room drinking tea. It had been strange to see her pouring from a teapot
in front of the fire, instead of tapping a keyboard behind a desk. After
digesting Felix’s words, she slowly nodded her head.
‘Yes, I think it could be Mel, judging from what you say,’ she concluded.
‘But why?’ asked Felix. ‘Why would he let Anika know by business?’
‘Maybe he was doing it inadvertently? Being pumped for information without realising it?’ Then she leant forward. ‘Do you remember at the first casting meeting, he’d suggested Selina McKenna for the role of Lady Scarlett?’
‘Yes, he did, Selina McKenna, Anika’s close friend,’ replied Felix with a sense of realisation.
‘So why did he suggest her?’ asked Jennifer.
‘Coincidence? She is a good actress.’
Jennifer gave a harsh laugh.
‘Or maybe he was being schmoozed by her, being buttered up to gain a part.’
Felix had been in show business long enough to know this did happen with casting directors. Some actors would stop at nothing to land leading roles.
‘But she didn’t get the role,’ said Felix.
‘No, but Mel did put her name forward, which makes me think they’d had some form of dialogue. She’ll have flattered him, bought him dinner, supplied him with wine and praised him to death,’ stated Jennifer with vigour, latching onto her theory.
‘And in return, he’d have her as a contender for Lady Scarlett’s role… and chirped like a canary.’
‘Exactly!’ agreed Jennifer. ‘The silly old ham was being reeled in. Selina may have got a plum role as well as gaining information for her friend.’
‘But all this is speculation,’ said Felix.
‘Well, confront him then,’ retorted Jennifer with an arched eyebrow.
Emma was in her element wandering round Felix’s penthouse suite.
She’d never known such luxury.
‘If you need anything, just ring the concierge,’ said Felix before leaving for his meeting that morning.
How the other half live, thought Emma from the rooftop terrace, gazing down at Hyde Park. She observed the joggers, the dog-walkers, the young mums pushing prams and the tourists strolling along the pathways. It amazed her how lush the grounds looked, considering it was late autumn and in the heart of London. Then she turned to the swimming pool on the terrace, covered now for the cold months, but imagined how inviting it would be come summer.
Inside was just as impressive, with thick cream carpet throughout, a large black leather sofa and recliner, inset electric fireplace and a large, state of the art kitchen. Huge picture windows ran along the south-facing side, flooding the apartment with natural light, offering panoramic city sky-line views.
Emma had also been impressed with the welcome they had received. Although clearly a new face, she’d been treated with the same utmost courtesy as Felix from the staff on reception. They’d arrived the night before and Emma had gaped in awe at the city sparkling below them in the darkness. She’d felt safe, high up on the top of the apartment block, well out of the way. She understood why Felix had chosen to live here. It was private, but in a different way to his property on the peninsula in Samphire Bay. Emma knew which home she preferred and was already missing the beloved Art Deco house.
In her excitement, she decided to ring her dad. Perry picked up straight away.
‘You wanna see this place, dad,’ gushed Emma.
Perry chuckled. He knew she and Felix were in London and was glad for the call.
‘Not too shabby then?’ he laughed.
‘It’s amazing!’ she trilled.
There was a slight pause. Perry hoped his daughter wasn’t about to take a real shine to London. The last thing he wanted was Emma spending more time there than at Samphire Bay. As if reading his mind, Emma continued.
‘But I miss my beautiful Art Deco house.’
‘Oh, it’s your house now, is it?’ teased Perry with a grin.
‘Well, no, but I’m the one cleaning it,’ she replied tartly, making Perry chuckle again.
Then, a thought occurred to Emma.
‘Dad, you will be living at Bunty’s, won’t you, when you get married?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ said Perry, guessing what was coming next.
‘But what about Fisher’s Cottage?’
Perry had already decided on this. Technically, it belonged to him, but it had been Emma’s home before he had married Val. So, in his mind, it was Emma’s house.
‘That depends on what you want to do with it,’ he answered. ‘As far as I’m concerned, Fisher’s Cottage is your home.’
‘But—’
‘No buts, Emma,’ cut in Perry firmly, ‘it’s your house. You may decide to sell or rent it out. Give it some thought,’ he wisely finished.
‘Oh, right,’ Emma chewed her lip in thought, not expecting this scenario.
‘So, what have you got planned today?’ asked Perry.
‘I’m waiting for Felix to come back from his meeting, then we’re going out for dinner tonight.’
‘Very nice,’ smiled Perry, enjoying her enthusiasm. If his girl was happy – then so was he.
Later that evening Felix and Emma were led to their table at a top
restaurant tucked discreetly away down a side street in Knightsbridge.
Felix had waited to tell Emma all the details about the meeting, despite
her asking how it had gone.
‘We’ll talk about it later,’ he’d said, wanting to set the scene nicely over a candle-lit dinner. Once they’d chosen from the menu Felix ordered a bottle of the best champagne, feeling the occasion warranted it. After it was poured, Felix raised his glass. ‘I’d like to propose a toast,’ he announced.
‘Oh yes?’ Emma smiled, wondering where this was leading.
‘To your singing career,’ he cheered.
Emma frowned, not expecting that. ‘Err… right,’ she said. Then added, ‘What career exactly?’ Surely, he hardly thought performing the odd gig with the band constituted a singing career?
‘The one, I hope, you’re about to embark on,’ he declared with a wide smile. He then proceeded to tell Emma all about the meeting and how he’d planned to introduce her to the music director.
Emma sat, jaw dropped and eyes wide.
‘You mean… I could be the one singing the theme song to Lady Scarlett Investigates ?’ she spluttered.
‘Yep.’ Felix nodded, working hard to contain his grin.
‘OMG,’ she gasped. A terrifying thought struck. ‘But what if he doesn’t like my voice?’
‘Of course he’ll like it,’ snorted Felix. ‘You have the voice of an angel.’ He gave a sexy grin and quietly uttered, ‘And the body of a goddess.’
Emma giggled and raised a provocative eyebrow.
‘And yours isn’t that bad either,’ she replied clinking his glass.
The following day Felix had arranged for Emma to meet Laurence at the
recording studio. Laurence started by playing the theme tune on a
keyboard. It was, like he’d said in the meeting, a jaunty, upbeat
melody, reflective of the drama. The music was very reminiscent of the
roaring twenties, but, as Laurence had also previously stated, cried out
for lyrics. When he’d passed the song sheet to Emma, her eyes had lit
up.
‘Oh, it’s so apt!’ she cried, reading the lines with glee. This seemed to please Laurence.
‘I’m glad you think so. Now, shall we have a practise?’
Emma gave a deep breath. This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for her whole life.
‘Let’s,’ she replied as confidently as possible.
Felix put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
‘Try to relax,’ he whispered soothingly.
She gave a wobbly smile. ‘I’ll try.’
‘You’ve got this,’ he winked.
Emma was given headphones and directed into a glass booth. Grasping the song sheet tightly, she waited for Laurence to give the nod. He played the opening bars and signalled Emma’s introduction. Shoulders back, she sang her heart out.
‘Lady Scarlett, super sleuth,
With her emerald eyes and raven hair,
She’ll figure it out,
Without a doubt,
Such a quick mind and elegant flair!
Lady Scarlett is on the trail,
Hunting for clues and fingerprints,
She’s on the case,
Looking for a trace,
The culprit will get caught in an jinks!’
She finished and stared directly at Laurence, who thankfully was beaming. Giving her the thumbs up, he spoke through the headphones.
‘That was great, Emma.’
Oh, the relief!
‘Let’s try again, taking a slightly longer pause between the two verses, yeah?’
‘OK,’ she nodded. Felix gave her another encouraging wink. Off she went again – and again, until finally Laurence clapped his hands in approval.
‘I think we’ve got it!’ he proclaimed.
Emma could have cried for joy. Her life’s ambition was fulfilled. Her voice had been recorded. She was about to sing to the nation.