Chapter 11 #2
‘You’ve got to stop being so spineless,’ Freddie added, trying to sound stern. ‘Ooh, this is so cool,’ he squealed excitedly, spoiling the effect. ‘I feel like the head nun in The Sound of Music, telling Maria to get back and nail the Captain before the Baroness gets her mitts on him.’
‘I don’t think that’s quite what the Mother Superior was advocating,’ Ken said.
Freddie ignored him. ‘I could gaze out of the window and sing “Climb Every Mountain”, if you think it would help,’ he said eagerly.
‘I don’t.’
‘On the contrary.’ Ken smiled. ‘It would be just the thing to send you haring back to Italy as fast as your legs would carry you.’
Kate smiled grudgingly. ‘Anyway, it’s hardly the same situation.’
‘True,’ Freddie allowed. ‘Maria was afraid she’d given her feelings away because she got a bit hot and bothered when the Captain was giving her a twirl in his lederhosen.’
Despite herself, Kate giggled.
‘And who’d blame her?’ Freddie continued. ‘You, on the other hand, came right out and swallowed his ceremonial sword. I think it’s safe to say your cover is well and truly blown.’
‘Much as Will was,’ Ken said.
‘Oh, I don’t know why I’m laughing,’ Kate moaned. ‘It’s not funny. And you two could try not enjoying it so much either.’
‘Well, we could try,’ Freddie said, ‘but I doubt we’d get very far.’
‘The point is, you’ve shown your hand already, so what have you got to lose?’ Ken said.
‘Certainly not any dignity,’ Freddie said chirpily. ‘That ship has sailed.’
She knew they meant well, but Kate was feeling seriously ganged up on. As if he had sensed this, Ken’s tone changed. ‘I know it’s not an easy thing to do,’ he said gently, ‘but this is Will we’re talking about – the love of your life. I mean, he is, isn’t he?’
‘Yes.’ Kate sighed defeatedly. ‘I wish he wasn’t, but he is.’
‘Well, that’s that, then,’ Ken said, with an air of finality, grabbing the fat Sunday paper he had brought back from the shops and shaking it open.
He was right. If she had any chance of being with Will, she had to go for it. At least then if it didn’t work out, she would have nothing to reproach herself with. But she had to do something else first.
‘I’ve got to break up with Brian,’ she said. She might never have Will, but she couldn’t use Brian as a safety net – it wasn’t fair on him.
It occurred to her that she had never had to dump anyone before – she was usually the one dumped – and she didn’t have a clue how to go about it. She knew all too well how painful it was to be dumped, and she dreaded having to do that to Brian. It was a lot easier to be the dumpee.
Suddenly Ken sat up with a jolt, almost choking on his coffee.
‘What is it?’ Kate and Freddie asked in unison.
‘Oh, nothing—’ he spluttered, folding the paper he’d been reading while Freddie slapped him on the back.
‘What?’ Without waiting for an answer, Freddie picked up the paper and opened it to the page Ken had been reading.
‘Oh my God!’ He darted a panic-stricken glance at Kate.
Kate looked at the paper in his hands. ‘Oh God – May Kennedy,’ she said faintly. It was the paper in which Tina’s journalist friend had her social column – though ‘column’ was something of a euphemism since it took up the entire back page.
‘Look,’ Ken said brightly, ‘it’s going to be a beautiful day. Let’s do something!’
‘Like what?’ Freddie asked, eyes still on the paper.
‘We could go to the zoo,’ Ken said.
‘The zoo?’ Freddie looked askance at him.
‘Now you’re really scaring me,’ Kate said.
‘It’s not that bad,’ Freddie said.
‘Just give me the highlights.’
‘It’s quite short,’ Freddie said, and proceeded to read the whole thing.
‘“Friends of Ireland’s favourite celebrity couple, Will Sargent and Tina Roche (and yours truly counts herself as one of their closest friends and most devoted fans)” – smarmy cow!
– “will be saddened to hear that all is not well, with rumours rife of a split after Tina fled the house in Tuscany where the couple were staying just weeks before her birthday. Friends were already starting to descend on Florence for what promised to be the party of the year. Earlier in the week Tina had joined Will at the beautiful villa in the Tuscan countryside, to which he had decamped for the summer with Walking Wounded, but she made a hurried departure from the house in the early hours of this morning in an obvious state of distress and it appears she will not be joining Will in England for his father’s funeral.
‘“News of Sir Philip’s death came as a great shock…” blah, blah, blah. She goes on about Philip Sargent for a while.’
‘It’s not that bad,’ Kate said tentatively.
‘Wait, there’s more at the end,’ Freddie said, his eye scanning down the page.
‘“Meanwhile, Tina is remaining tight-lipped about the alleged split, but her exit from the villa came just hours after the hasty departure of one Kate O’Neill—”’
‘Oh no!’ Kate groaned in anguish. ‘She actually mentioned my name?’
‘“—one Kate O’Neill,”’ Freddie nodded, resuming, ‘“sparking rumours that a third party was involved. Kate, the youngest daughter of the actress Grace O’Neill, had been working as a cook at the house. Personally, I feel that this is just a temporary blip, and that this gorgeous couple will soon be as loved-up as they ever were. I’m sure I’m not alone in wishing them well – the Irish social scene would be a far drearier place without them.
The phrase “made for each other” is over-used, but in this case, it just happens to be true. ”’
‘Well, she would say that, the stupid cow,’ Freddie went on.
‘She’s just miffed at being done out of a party,’ Ken added.
‘Still…’ Kate said despondently. She knew that May had been instrumental in promoting Will and Tina as Ireland’s premier celebrity couple, largely at Tina’s instigation.
Naturally she would talk up the fairytale she had helped to create.
Besides, she was Tina’s friend. But she couldn’t shake off a niggling doubt that maybe May knew what she was talking about – after all, she must have spent plenty of time with them as a couple.
‘It’s not that bad,’ Freddie said consolingly, ‘apart from the naming and shaming bit. I mean, it could have been a lot worse, couldn’t it?’
‘It’s not that bad in itself,’ Ken said. ‘I mean, as far as it goes…’ He left the thought hanging in the air.
Kate knew what he was getting at. ‘It’s the fact that it’s out there,’ she said.
It had put the whole thing in the public domain, fuelling speculation and spiking interest, and Kate had an awful feeling that this was only the beginning.
* * *
Waking early the following morning, after a fitful night’s sleep, Kate found Ken and Freddie already up, sitting side by side at the breakfast bar eating toast and marmalade.
Freddie was wearing boxers and an old Walking Wounded tour T-shirt that he often used as a sort of dressing gown, but Ken was dressed for work in a sharp suit, crisp white shirt and red tie.
The bar was covered with newspapers and, when Kate came in, Ken hastily shuffled one to the bottom of the pile.
‘Morning, Kate!’ he said cheerily – too cheerily, Kate thought.
She eyed the pile of newspapers. ‘You got them all?’
Freddie looked up from the tabloid he was reading. ‘Ken went out first thing.’
‘And?’ she asked warily.
‘You want the good news or the bad news?’ Ken asked.
‘There’s good news?’
‘Well, there’s nothing in The Irish Times,’ he joked feebly.
‘Ha, ha.’ She looked at Freddie, who was once more engrossed. ‘How bad is it?’ she asked him.
‘It’s bad…’ he said slowly. His eyes widened as he read on. ‘It’s very bad.’
‘Define very bad.’
‘They’ve got details.’
‘Details!’ Kate shrieked. ‘You don’t mean—’
‘Yep – the whole story. Blow job and all.’
‘I thought Tina was remaining tight-lipped,’ Kate said shakily.
‘According to this, it comes from “sources close to the couple” or “close friends of Tina’s”.’
Gwen and Julie, Kate thought. No doubt Tina had given them the okay to blab so that she could feed her side of the story to the papers while appearing to maintain a dignified silence.
‘Well, I might as well know the worst,’ she said, with more conviction than she felt. Steeling herself, she climbed onto a stool at the opposite side of the counter. Freddie handed her a paper open at the relevant page.
‘“Tina’s love rival” – love rival! – “has been revealed as curvy cook, Kate O’Neill, thirty-two.” Thirty-two!’ she squealed. ‘They can’t even get my age right!’
‘You’re thirty-one in this one,’ Freddie said, waving his tabloid.
‘I’ve got thirty,’ Ken added.
‘And they call me curvy – that’s a euphemism for fat.’
‘So does this one,’ Freddie said. ‘Listen to this. “Curvaceous Kate, thirty-one, is the daughter of Grace O’Neill, one of our most cherished actresses.”’
‘Mum will like that.’
‘She gets a mention in this one too,’ Ken said. ‘It says, “The buxom brunette—”’
‘Buxom!’ Kate screeched in outrage.
‘“The buxom brunette,”’ Ken continued, ‘“is the daughter of Grace O’Neill, fifty-six, one of Ireland’s finest actresses.”’
‘Fifty-six!’ Kate gasped. ‘Mum won’t like that!’
‘Why? How old is she?’ Ken asked.
‘Fifty-six.’
‘Then she definitely won’t like it,’ Freddie said.
‘God, how many ways are there of saying plump?’ Kate huffed. Meanwhile, Tina was described as ‘willowy’, ‘stunning’, ‘leggy’ and ‘super-fit’. The contrast was obvious and deliberately bitchy.