Barbara Taylor Bradford’s 4-Book Collection

‘No, it’s not. Actually, he’s the son of a very prominent man.’

Katharine looked at Norman sharply. ‘How do you know, if he uses a false name? Did Terry tell you?’

‘No, he didn’t. In fact, Terry had no idea who the hell he was until I filled him in. You see, this bod was getting to be a bit of a nuisance to Terry, so I made a few inquiries about him.’ Norman laughed grimly. ‘He’s the black sheep of a prominent family, and not on good terms with his old man. Anyway, I believe he was having lunch with Terry at the flat today, when they had a row. And then Rupert slashed him with the knife.’ Norman’s head moved up and down a few times jerkily, as though he was confirming his suspicions to himself.

‘But why?’ Katharine asked, horrified that anyone would want to harm Terry.

‘Jealousy,’ he pronounced.

Taken aback though she was, she refrained from commenting. Finally, she said, ‘Don’t tell me Terry pinched one of his girl friends.’

‘Well, yes, and then, no. It’s a shade more convoluted than that …’ Norman ran his hand through his thinning hair, blinking rapidly, obviously distressed. ‘I’ll try and make the story as simple as possible. About six months ago this Rupert chap met Terry at a party. He claimed to be a playwright. Anyway, he attached himself to Terry. Like a bloody leech, I don’t mind telling you. I warned Terry he was a sponger, a hanger-on of the worst kind, but Terry simply laughed at me. He seemed to be impressed with the bloke, God knows why. He thought Rupert was entertaining. Rupert was trying to shove a play down Terry’s throat, one he’d written. He wanted Terry to help him get it staged, and to star in it. Bloody cheek, if you ask me. And a load of codswallop, it was. Drivel. At least Terry had the sense to say no to that little project, but still, he wasn’t able to shake Rupert. Terry was beginning to get fed up with him, and they had some sort of a barney. Rupert made himself scarce for a few weeks. Suddenly, out of the blue, he was back on the scene with Alexa Garrett in tow. He introduced her as his girl friend, and, I must say, they did seem very chummy. Stone the crows, the next thing I know she and Terry are shacking up together and madly in love. Talking of marriage. Bloody hell, you could have knocked me down with a bloomin’ feather.’

‘And so that’s why Rupert stabbed Terry? Because he was jealous of him?’

‘No, I don’t think so …’ Norman gave Katharine the most careful of looks, and his voice was muffled as he told her, ‘I think the bugger was jealous of Alexa. I think … well, to be honest, Katharine, he’s a bit decadent in my opinion. You know, swings either way on a windy day. AC-DC.’

Katharine was staring at Norman, momentarily nonplussed. Eventually, she asked incredulously, in a surprised voice, ‘Are you trying to tell me this Rupert what’s-his-name has a thing about Terry?’

Norman nodded. ‘I bloody well am! But hey, Katharine, it’s not mutual! Terry’s as straight as a die. Nothing in the least bit bent about our boy. He loves the ladies too much to tango with the gents, as you well know. And I know for a fact he hasn’t encouraged the chap, other than being friendly with him. Terry can be generous to a fault.’

‘But didn’t Terry realize that this Rupert was …’

‘Queer as a coot?’ Norman interjected and laughed sarcastically. ‘No, not initially. Rupert Reynolds is a deceptive kind of bloke. He always had a lot of dolly birds hanging around, and was for ever boring us, boasting about his conquests. But I began to get an inkling about his predilections a couple of months ago, when he started acting possessive with Terry. I remarked about it, but Terry just laughed again and brushed it off. ’Course, I’d alerted him. Then Alexa confirmed my suspicions and Terry had to listen to her, now didn’t he? You can imagine Terry’s reaction. He dropped Rupert like a hot spud. Yes, Master Reynolds was suddenly persona non bloody grata around the old homestead. We haven’t seen hide nor hair of him for weeks.’

‘Until today,’ Katharine volunteered.

‘That’s right. When I got to the flat and found Terry bleeding on the bed, he muttered something about Rupert being bonkers, and repeated it several times too. I couldn’t make out everything he was saying, but blimey, Katharine, it don’t take much to put two and two together, does it?’

‘Oh Norman, it’s so little to go on, really it –’

‘I found this,’ Norman interrupted peremptorily, and reached into his pocket, producing a gold cufflink. He handed it to Katharine, who took it and studied it, turning it over in her hand.

‘It has some sort of crest on it.’ She looked at Norman questioningly.

‘That’s correct. A family crest, and it’s Rupert’s all right. I’ve seen it before. No two ways about it, ducks, and I found it right in the middle of the living room floor. Listen, the ashtrays were full of the cigs he smokes. Some foul-smelling Frog brand.’

Katharine said curiously, ‘Is that why you wanted my advice? I mean about this Rupert fellow?’

‘No, as a matter of fact, it isn’t –’

‘But somebody like that could still be dangerous,’ Katharine cried. ‘Aren’t you afraid he’ll try and hurt Terry again? You know what they say, hell hath no fury like a –’

‘Good God, no.’ Norman laughed, and she caught the edge of grimness in his laughter. ‘I’m sure he’s already scarpered across the Channel by now, and if he hasn’t, you can bet your bottom dollar he’s packing at this very moment, intent on doing a moonlight bloody flit to foreign parts. I doubt he relishes the idea of being in the dock at the Old Bailey, up on a murder charge. Or rather, attempted murder. No, we won’t be hearing a peep from that nasty bit of work again, don’t you fret, duckie. And if he should be stupid enough to show his mug, I’ll threaten to go to his father. That’ll scare the living daylights out of him.’

‘Well, I suppose you know best, Norman,’ Katharine murmured, sounding both hesitant and doubtful. She was perplexed and asked pointedly, ‘So what was it you actually wanted my advice about?’

Norman said, ‘How to get Terry out of the trouble he’s in right now, and as quickly as possible.’

‘What kind of trouble?’ Katharine cried anxiously. What else could Norman possibly have up his sleeve?

‘All kinds of problems … I suppose the best thing is to just plunge in at the deep end, so to speak, and tell you about them. So, here goes. First of all, Terry is up to his eyes in debt. And I really mean up to his eyes – drowning. He’s paying alimony and child support to Glenda, his first wife, and he’ll also have to fork out alimony to Megan, once they’re divorced. She ain’t about to let him off the bloody hook, I can tell you that! So, you see, two ex-wives are going to prove very expensive, unless they both remarry, and pretty sharpish. Then again, take Terry himself. He lives like a bloomin’ pasha. The best Savile Row suits, shirts from Turnbull’s, shoes from Maxwell’s. He’s always in chic restaurants, and nothing short of the best will do for our Terrence. And he entertains very expansively, and expensively. Now there’s the damage at John’s flat. That’s not going to be cheap to put right. Not on your nelly. I’ve been doing a bit of arithmetic, and right now Terry needs at least forty or fifty thousand pounds to square everything away. And don’t ask me where he’s going to get it, ’cos I don’t have any ideas. I’m stymied.’

Katharine had been listening attentively, and she realized Norman was not exaggerating. Everything he said was true; she knew herself that Terry lived high, although she had never given it much thought until this moment. ‘Couldn’t he go to the bank and get an overdraft?’ she suggested.

‘Not bloody likely! He has one already.’ A tired sigh escaped Norman’s lips, and he said, ‘Jesus, Katharine, Terry spends money like a drunken sailor when the fleet’s in, and there’s just no end to it. But his financial worries aside, there’s also Alexa. I agree with Penny that she’s been a bad influence on him, and he’d be a lot better off without her in his life. And don’t think he isn’t influenced by his women,’ he muttered almost to himself. After a pause he went on, ‘For one thing, he’s been boozing heavily since he met her. Oh, I don’t mean he has a real drinking problem … at least, not yet. Terry’s always been able to knock a few back, but he’s tippling more than usual. If he weren’t, I doubt the incident with Reynolds would have erupted and ended the way it did today. To be honest with you, I wish I could get Terry out of London, away from Alexa and that fast crowd of hers he’s running with. I think he’d straighten out very quickly. One possibility has come up. He’s been invited by the Shakespeare Memorial Company to go to Australia on a long tour, as the leading actor, the star attraction. I’ve been wondering how to persuade him to sign the contract. It would solve a lot of things. What do you think? I’d really like your advice.’

Katharine pondered, but only for a moment. She exclaimed authoritatively, ‘But they pay so little, much less than he’s earning now in the play. It would hardly solve his money problems. And I don’t think it would do much for his career. I realize Larry and Viv used to do those tours, but, well, they were international stars already. No, I think Australia would be a real mistake, Norman.’

‘I expect you’re right,’ Norman mumbled glumly, and fell silent.

Katharine sat back on the sofa, reflecting on everything Norman had said. Once again, she knew he was absolutely correct in his assessment of the situation. She knew, too, that he was motivated strictly out of concern for Terry. Norman was the most selfless person she had met in a long time, and Terry was exceptionally fortunate to have such a dedicated dresser and loyal and devoted friend. Katharine’s mind was like a well-oiled Swiss watch, finely tuned and precise, and now it turned with amazing swiftness.

Quite suddenly she saw everything with such vivid clarity she almost jumped off the sofa in her excitement.

She held herself in check, but she was unable to disguise the jubilant smile spreading across her face. ‘Norman, I have it! The only solution, and to every one of Terry’s problems.’ She sat up, as straight as an arrow, her hands tightly clenched in her lap and her smile turned into one of immense confidence.

Norman gave her a long and questioning look. ‘All of them?’ he asked, his doubtfulness apparent.

Katharine’s radiant smile widened. ‘Yes. Yes, I know how to turn Terry’s life around, and almost immediately.’

‘If you do, it’s nothing short of a bloody miracle, that’s all I can say,’ Norman said grudgingly, still doubting. ‘Let’s have it then.’

‘Do you remember my talking to Terry a few weeks ago? About his playing the role of Edgar Linton in Victor Mason’s remake of Wuthering Heights?’

Norman, who was giving her his total concentration, inclined his head without comment, uncertain of what was on her mind.

Katharine continued spiritedly, ‘As you know, Terry turned it down. At the time I thought he was being foolish. Now I realize just how foolish. Terry has an out-of-the-play clause in his contract, so he could leave Trojan to do the film without any difficulty. I know, too, that Victor would pay him well, because he really and truly wants Terry in the picture, is ever so anxious to get him. Perhaps Victor would pay as much as seventy thousand pounds, maybe even more –’

‘Christ!’ Norman cut in excitedly, ‘as much as that!’ He was overwhelmed at the thought and quickly lit a cigarette. A surge of hope shot through him, and he picked up his gin and tonic and took a long swallow, his eyes glued on Katharine. ‘Go on,’ he said, ‘I’m all ears.’

‘So, Norman, don’t you see, if Terry made the film he would be able to solve his terrible financial problems practically immediately, and for only a few months’ work. He’d even have some money to spare. Now, listen, Norman, there’s more to it … the film’s going to be made mostly in Yorkshire, which means Terry would be out of London for a number of weeks. Far away from Alexa and her cronies, and in turn, that might help to solve his drinking pr –’

‘You don’t know Alexa, ducks,’ he exclaimed with a hollow laugh. ‘She’d be tearing after him with the speed of a fox fleeing the bloody hounds.’

‘I’m sure there are ways to cope with her, Norman. For instance, I could talk to Victor, say she was a troublemaker, and get him to ban her from location. He listens to me.’

‘That’d be a bit difficult, love.’ Norman gave her a small wry smile. ‘It’s still a free country here, you know. This ain’t the USSR. You can’t stop somebody going to Yorkshire, even if you can keep them off a set. Besides, that one’s as tough as Old Nick, and she has a skin like an alligator. She’d be hard to control; you mark my words, Katharine, I know what I’m talking about. She’s led Terry a merry dance ever since he’s known her, the little bitch. Alexa does what she wants, when and how she wants, and nobody stops her.’

‘Don’t be so sure of that, Norman. I think she’s the least of our problems actually. It seems to me money is the most pressing …’ Katharine’s sentence dangled in mid-air. She stared hard at the dresser as another idea streaked through her active brain. ‘Norman …’ she began, ‘what if Terry was … was under someone else’s influence, you know, someone he really respected …’

‘Like who?’

‘Hilary.’

Norman shot bolt upright on the sofa and gawked at her in stupefaction, ‘Hilary! Stone the crows, Katharine, you’re out of your tiny mind. She’s married to Mark Pierce now.’

‘I’m well aware of that,’ Katharine responded in a cool voice, which sounded slightly superior. ‘But Victor is hoping to sign Mark to direct the picture. Hilary’s bound to go on location with him, and if she does, she can easily keep an eye on Terry. I’ve always thought Hilary was a stable, down-to-earth girl.’ She gave Norman a knowing smile, and then, stabbing in the dark, she fibbed, ‘You see, Norman dear, I happen to know that Hilary is still very fond of Terry, and vice versa, so don’t deny it.’