Wildfire Read online

  The planning meeting, which stretched through the lunch-hour and well into the afternoon, was, as usual, an hilarious though extremely productive affair. Its purpose was to air new ideas, schedule the following month’s transmissions and shoot dates, reschedule where necessary and cover any other business that was relevant. Among the many subjects mooted for future programmes that day were an exposé of female flashers; an undercover assignment for Carrie and Reece who were investigating an MP frame-up syndicate; a trip to Los Angeles to check out what fads were in store for summer; and a celebration of fifty years of the transistor.

  ‘I’d like to know if anyone has any objection to me fronting the transistor programme, if we do it,’ Neil asked, blushing slightly for he was Check It Out’s newest recruit and hadn’t yet had any experience in front of camera.

  ‘None at all,’ Rhiannon answered enthusiastically. ‘In fact I think it’s a great idea since we’re only going to give it a fifteen-minute slot. It’ll be good practice. What did we propose for the other half?’ she added, hunting through her notes.

  ‘At the moment we’ve got female flashers down for a fifteen minuter,’ Lily answered. ‘I think Lizzy should front that. She’ll be brilliant.’

  Rhiannon laughed. ‘She’ll probably get us taken off the air, but yes, I agree she should do it. If we put the two together then we’d better make the flashers the second half as it’ll probably be a pretty impossible act to follow. So Neil, when you’re putting the transistor programme together bear in mind that you might need an out that links us somehow into female flashers.’

  ‘I can think of plenty,’ Jolene called out from where he was sitting at his desk.

  ‘I know I’m going to regret this,’ Rhiannon muttered looking round at the others. ‘In fact, no, I’m not going to ask. You two get together after the meeting. Just keep it at least half-way decent, OK? How far are you with this French gestapo programme, Rohan? The one about Les Renseignements Generaux?’

  ‘Yeah, we’re doing pretty well,’ he answered. ‘I’ve got a couple of days’ more shooting next week in Marseilles, then we’re done. So no problem about meeting the TX date.’

  ‘Good. I’d like to see some of what you’ve shot so far though,’ she said. ‘And you’ve been keeping in touch with the lawyers, I take it?’

  ‘And Special Branch,’ Rohan assured her.

  ‘They’re putting him through a witness protection programme when it’s all over,’ Jolene quipped.

  ‘They might need to,’ Rhiannon said darkly. ‘Anyway, I think that about winds us up for today. Oliver’s coming over later and you’re all invited to the Groucho for a glass of champagne, if you’re free.’

  ‘Well, wouldn’t you just know, it’s himself right here on the line,’ Jolene said, sucking in his cheeks. ‘Shall I put him through, mein Führer?’

  ‘Tell him she’s changed her mind,’ Reece shouted back.

  ‘Tell him I’m free,’ Lily added.

  ‘Join the queue, sweetie,’ Jolene responded archly as, laughing, Rhiannon picked up her phone.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ she said, turning her back on the rest of the office. ‘Everything OK?’

  ‘Everything’s OK,’ he confirmed. ‘And you?’

  ‘Perfect.’

  ‘I’ve got some good news,’ he said.

  Rhiannon sat up straight, hardly daring to hope that he was about to tell her the very thing she most wanted to hear. ‘We’ve got it,’ she whispered. ‘They accepted the offer?’

  ‘They did,’ he answered, the smile audible in his voice. ‘The agent just called. We should be able to move in right after we get back from honeymoon.’

  ‘Oh, Oliver!’ she cried, stamping her feet up and down in excitement. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’

  Laughing, he said, ‘I’ll be asking for proof later. In the meantime, Calvin and Polly have invited us to dinner at their place tonight. Do you want to go?’

  ‘But I’ve just invited everyone for a drink at the Groucho,’ she said. ‘I thought that’s what we’d arranged.’

  ‘We did. And there’s no conflict. Calvin and Polly aren’t expecting us until nine. They said to bring Lizzy along too, if she’d like to come.’

  ‘Oh God,’ Rhiannon murmured, clapping a hand to her mouth as a pang of guilt hit her heart – she’d completely forgotten about Lizzy and the fact that she hadn’t shown up all day.

  ‘Something the matter?’ he said.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Rhiannon answered, feeling a very belated concern start to creep over her. ‘No one’s seen Lizzy all day and it’s not like her to . . .’ She broke off as with immaculate timing Lizzy strolled nonchalantly into the office and started laughingly to deal with the barrage of questions that assaulted her.

  ‘She’s just arrived,’ Rhiannon said quietly, watching the noisy reception that Lizzy was receiving.

  ‘You sound worried,’ Oliver remarked. ‘Is she OK?’

  ‘I think so,’ Rhiannon answered. ‘She looks OK. I just wonder where she’s been.’

  ‘Well once you’ve found out, do what you can to get her to come along tonight,’ Oliver said. ‘She’s been a bit of a recluse since we got back from Africa. Is she still upset about Andy, do you know?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Rhiannon replied. ‘If she were, she’d be sure to tell me and she hasn’t said anything.’

  ‘So you don’t want me to get in touch and find out what’s going on at his end?’

  ‘No. It’s best not to interfere.’

  ‘OK. I’ll leave it to you to call Calvin and Polly to let them know if Lizzy’s coming, shall I?’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’ Then suddenly brightening again as she remembered the wonderful mews house in Holland Park, she said, ‘Have you got the photographs of the house so we can show off tonight?’

  ‘Yes,’ he laughed.

  Rhiannon waited as putting a hand over the receiver he spoke briefly to his secretary, then came back on the line saying, ‘What about your father? Have you thought any more about inviting him to the wedding?’

  Rhiannon sighed. ‘I haven’t come to a decision yet,’ she said. ‘I mean, I want to, at least I suppose I ought to, but I can’t without inviting the airhead too.’

  ‘Is she really so bad?’

  ‘She’s insufferable. And the feeling’s mutual, I can assure you,’ Rhiannon said hotly. Then laughing she said, ‘Oh, who cares about them. The important thing is that you’re there.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll be there,’ he laughed. ‘In fact I wouldn’t miss it for the world. But there is one little snag, I’m afraid. I have to go over to New York the week after next.’

  A sudden chill descended over Rhiannon’s heart. ‘Will you be seeing Straussen?’ she asked.

  ‘Probably. But I don’t want you to think about it, OK? I’ll handle it.’

  ‘How long will you be gone?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet. But I’ll be back in plenty of time for the wedding.’

  ‘You’d better be,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I have to go. I want to find out what Lizzy’s been up to.’

  ‘OK. I’ll come and pick you up around six. Oh, by the way, did you see that piece in today’s Express about your old friend Galina Casimir landing herself some multi-million-dollar cosmetic deal?’

  ‘Yes, as a matter of fact I did,’ Rhiannon replied, surprised that she’d forgotten about it until now. ‘Quite a coup, eh?’

  ‘A coup indeed. Makes you wonder how much Max Romanov had to do with it.’

  ‘Max Romanov? Why would he have anything . . . ? Oh yes, of course, there was something about him and Galina in the papers at the time of the trial, wasn’t there? Is she still seeing him then?’

  ‘God knows,’ Oliver laughed. ‘I just seem to recall reading something about them somewhere along the line. Anyway, time to go. See you at six.’

  ‘Lizzy!’ Rhiannon called, replacing the receiver and getting up from her desk. ‘Lizzy, are you all right? Where have you been all day?
’

  ‘Where have I been?’ Lizzy cried theatrically. ‘Where haven’t I been, more like. But first things first. Did you book the wedding?’

  ‘Yes,’ Rhiannon laughed. ‘We booked the wedding. It’s on the thirty-first of this month, so make sure you’re free. Now, where have you been?’

  ‘Charing Cross Hospital, Chelsea Police Station, you name it, I’ve been there.’

  Rhiannon’s face dropped. ‘Why? What happened? Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Lizzy chuckled. ‘There was just this incident outside Harvey Nichols this morning . . . Oh hell, it’s a long and boring story, just suffice it to say that it managed to keep me tied up for most of the day and every time I tried to get to a phone it either wasn’t working or it had been vandalized and the battery on my mobile is down. So in the end, when they finally decided to let me go, I thought the best thing to do was just come straight here. Et, voilà, here I am.’

  Rhiannon was staring at her suspiciously. ‘What kind of an incident?’ she said.

  ‘Just a traffic incident. Someone got knocked to the ground and they had to be carted off to hospital and then the police got involved – oh, I don’t know. It was all pretty chaotic, you know how these things are.’

  ‘But you weren’t hurt?’

  ‘No. Look at me, I’m absolutely fine,’ Lizzy grinned, holding out her arms and doing a quick spin. ‘Just bored stiff with all that red tape and dying for a glass of the sparkly stuff. I take it we are all off somewhere to celebrate.’

  ‘We are,’ Rhiannon grinned, linking her arm through Lizzy’s and walking her into her office. ‘Then we’re invited to Calvin and Polly’s for dinner. And guess what? You know the house I told you about in Holland Park? The mews house? Well Oliver just called and we’ve got it.’

  ‘No!’ Lizzy gasped. ‘That’s fantastic news. When do I get to see it?’

  ‘Oliver’s got some photographs. There’s a chance we’ll be able to move in as soon as we get back from honeymoon.’

  ‘Oh God, I’m so happy for you,’ Lizzy smiled. ‘Everything’s working out just the way it should. You deserve this, Rhian, you really do. Which reminds me, did you see the piece in the Express . . . ?’

  ‘About Galina Casimir?’ Rhiannon chuckled. ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘Bitch,’ Lizzy remarked.

  Rhiannon’s eyebrows went up. ‘It’s all in the past now,’ she said. ‘And actually, considering the way things have turned out, I guess you could say she did me a favour.’

  ‘A favour!’ Lizzy cried. ‘You were six days away from marrying that man when she took off with him. She was supposed to be your best friend, for God’s sake. You had the dress, the cake, the presents, the honeymoon booked . . .’

  ‘All right, all right, don’t rub it in,’ Rhiannon laughed. ‘You’ll start giving me nightmares. And I’m not saying I wouldn’t like to poke her in the eye with a sharp stick if I ever saw her again because I would. But really, when it comes right down to it, she’s just not important any more.’

  ‘So you won’t be inviting her to the wedding?’ Lizzy grinned.

  ‘Very droll,’ Rhiannon smiled sweetly.

  ‘And what about your dad? Are you inviting him?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Rhiannon sighed. ‘Oliver thinks I should, but to be honest, I don’t think he’d be terribly interested. I hardly ever see him now and he’s never really forgiven me for the fiasco of the last time, which he’s still convinced was my fault. So much for parental support, eh? Anyway, if I did invite him I’d have to invite that dreadful little tart he’s married to and the very thought of her in her white high heels, black tights and broad West Country accent with those screaming little brats hanging on to her shoulder straps is making me go hot and cold already. Whatever my father saw in her I’ll never know, except what does any fifty-year-old fool see in a twenty-year-old pair of tits?’

  ‘Makes you wonder what she ever saw in him, really, doesn’t it?’ Lizzy remarked. ‘Without wishing to be rude, of course.’

  ‘Rumour has it that because I went to a private school she assumed he had a pile of money stashed away. I imagine she’s found out by now that it was the insurance from my mother’s death that financed my education. Anyway, a call came in for you earlier that I just know you’re going to be thrilled about.’

  Rhiannon’s eyes were sparkling with mischief and Lizzy’s heart leapt into her throat at the prospect of the call coming from Andy. In fact it had to be from Andy, because there was no one else she’d be thrilled to hear from and Rhiannon knew it. ‘Oh, who was it?’ she asked, flipping open the cover of a bridal magazine in an effort to appear casual. ‘You know, you’d look fantastic in something like this,’ she said, turning the magazine for Rhiannon to see. It was pathetic, she knew, but suddenly she didn’t want Rhiannon to answer because if the call hadn’t been from Andy she didn’t want to know. She wanted to stay high on the hope, if only for a few more moments, because today had been one of the worst of her life since Richard died and she didn’t think she could keep this mask of normalcy in place much longer, especially not if she had to deal with the crushing disappointment of finding out that Andy still hadn’t been in touch.

  ‘Have you seen the price?’ Rhiannon said, as they gazed down at the breath-taking Ungaro creation on the page.

  ‘What is money when you’re in love?’ Lizzy responded airily. ‘And really, you’d look absolutely gorgeous in a dress like that. You’re tall enough and curvaceous enough.’ This was crazy and she knew it. She was using flattery now to try and soften Rhiannon into giving her the response she wanted. ‘So who was the call from?’ she said abruptly.

  ‘Oh yes.’ Rhiannon grinned. ‘Sharon the fruitcake Spicer.’

  Lizzy’s eyebrows went up as turning over another page she heard herself say, ‘Oh God, not her again.’ Inwardly she was falling apart. The sharp sting of tears blinded her eyes; the desperation in her heart stifled her breath. Why was this happening? Why did it matter so much when it shouldn’t matter at all? Had she really reached such a point of loneliness that she could allow herself to behave like this?

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ Rhiannon said, still looking at the magazine as they flicked idly through.

  Taking a breath, Lizzy forced a smile to her lips. ‘I wonder what she wants this time,’ she said, suddenly remembering that Sharon Spicer had once told her she was a Samaritan. Dear God, Lizzy, no, she gasped inwardly. Don’t even think about it. The woman’s insane.

  ‘Why don’t you call her and find out?’ Rhiannon teased.

  Lizzy laughed, then groaned. ‘Sharon Spicer is just about the last person I need in my life right now,’ she said. Then glancing at her watch she added, ‘What time are we off for that drink? I need to make a couple of calls first. And did anyone make notes of the planning meeting? I’d like to see them when they’re ready.’

  ‘Speak to Jolene,’ Rhiannon answered. ‘And maybe you could scribble down your own ideas so I can take a look at them.’

  ‘Or maybe’, Lizzy suggested, ‘we could discuss them over lunch tomorrow.’

  ‘We could,’ Rhiannon answered, turning to her diary, ‘except it looks like I’m already booked. Mike Melbourne, parliamentary whip and wicked raconteur. Should be fun. Why don’t you come along?’

  ‘No, it’s OK,’ Lizzy said, her smile starting to falter. ‘I can use the time to write my commentary for the South Africa film. Jolene tells me I have the great pleasure of editing through the night on Thursday.’ Just what she needed, she was thinking, to sit there hour after hour, frame after frame, watching Andy’s face, listening to his voice and feeling almost as though he were in the room with her. ‘Just popping to the loo,’ she said and before Rhiannon even had a chance to look up she was gone.

  Minutes later she was sitting in a lavatory cubicle, her face buried in her hands, rocking herself back and forth as she let the tears flow. She was so lucky, she was telling herself forcefully. So damned lucky that they hadn’t pre
ssed charges for what she had done that morning. Just thank God the man in the car had a wife who suffered with PMT too, so he knew what it could do to a woman. He’d understood; at least he’d tried to understand and the policewoman at Chelsea had been sympathetic too. More than sympathetic for she’d given Lizzy the phone number of a doctor who specialized in hormonal stress problems and he’d agreed to interrupt his National Health rounds at Charing Cross Hospital to see Lizzy privately for an hour just after lunch.

  She had some medication now. Something to soothe her nerves and calm the pains in her head. Maybe, after she’d taken the pills for a couple of days things wouldn’t seem so bleak any more. Maybe she’d have her life back in perspective and stop weeping like a child or boiling over with anger and resentment. And, please God, she’d stop hating Rhiannon for being so happy and having everything a woman could ever want in her life, at a time when she, Lizzy, was so inconsolably depressed and felt as if she had nothing at all.

  ‘Come on,’ she whispered to herself, forcing her head up and wiping her face with her fingers. ‘You have to pull yourself together. Things aren’t so bad really.’ Tears welled in her eyes again as she thought of Richard, but pushing her mind past it she took several deep, shuddering breaths and tried again. She was going for a drink with the rest of the team, then she’d been invited to dinner at Calvin’s and Polly’s. So this evening she wasn’t going to be alone. She’d have company. She was going to be with people who cared for her and whom she cared for too. OK, it was all about celebrating Rhiannon’s and Oliver’s wedding plans – and the house, she mustn’t forget the house – but was that really so difficult when in truth she was happy for Rhiannon? It was just hard to show it right now, that was all. But she would. She’d have herself together in a moment and then she’d be the Lizzy everyone knew and loved. The Lizzy who made them laugh, who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, who was coping so well with being on her own. She smiled sadly at her reflection. Perhaps if she said that often enough, she would wake up one morning and find it was true.