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If she’d had a little more faith in her husband’s love, she would have stayed and found out that they’d been rehearsing a section of their play, not discussing their previous night’s dalliance. Instead, Gemma had fled, eventually to the Campbell house, thereby putting into motion the awful circumstances that had led to Nathan assaulting her.
The only good thing to come out of the horrors of the past week was that she not only found out her mother’s identity, but had discovered, with a degree of relief, that the man who she had thought had been her father all her life and whom she had never been able to love was not her father after all!
‘Byron tells me Lenore is having an affair with Zachary Marsden,’ Celeste whispered. ‘Apparently, they intend to marry next year after he’s divorced his wife.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘She’s no danger to your marriage, Gemma.’
‘Yes, I know that too. Now.’
‘Better late than never.’
Gemma smiled across at her mother. ‘Is that how you feel about marrying Byron?’
Celeste grinned. ‘You’d better believe it. I can’t wait to hog-tie him to me forever.’
‘When’s the big day?’
‘As soon as we can arrange it. No long white dresses or anything. Just a simple ceremony. I have no patience with frippery at my age. All I want is Byron’s ring on my finger.’
‘And all I want is my Nathan back again.’
Celeste sighed. ‘Are you sure your love for this man is not blind, Gemma? Do you know what you’re dealing with? You were very young when you married him. Just twenty. You’re only a few months older now.’
‘You were only seventeen when you fell in love with Byron.’
Celeste shook her head. ‘That’s different.’
‘How?’
‘Will you two women stop whispering together?’ Byron hissed down the line. ‘The curtain’s about to go up.’
Celeste patted his arm. ‘Keep your shirt on, darling.’
‘It’s my shirt I’m worried about,’ he grumbled back. ‘I’ve put a hell of a lot of money into this play.’
‘Don’t worry, if it bombs I’ll sell my yacht and give you the proceeds.’
‘I just might keep you to that!’
‘Sssh,’ someone in the row behind them said as the lights dimmed and the curtain rose.
It wasn’t long before everyone was silent and totally engrossed in what was going on on stage.
Gemma soon realised why the play was called The Woman in Black. The heroine, played by Lenore, was a widow in her mid-thirties, whose elderly husband had just died. Her wickedly handsome black-sheep stepson showed up at the funeral and immediately created an atmosphere of tingling suspense and sexual tension. It quickly became obvious that he had once had an affair with his stepmother and the affair had resulted in the birth of a son who the dead husband believed was his and who was now heir to the bulk of his estate.
Towards the end of the first half of the play the widow was once again in danger of being seduced by her evil stepson. He came to her bedroom the night after the funeral, where by some very devious and seductive manoeuvres he succeeded in binding her hand and foot to the bed. He was about to cut her nightwear off with a pair of scissors when the curtain came down.
‘Good God,’ Celeste let out on a shuddering sigh as the lights came on. Slowly, she turned wide eyes towards Gemma. ‘And the man who wrote that is the man you love?’
Gemma flushed fiercely. ‘It’s only a play, Celeste. It’s not real!’
‘Still...’
‘My God, I’m on a winner!’ Byron exclaimed excitedly. ‘Just look at the audience. They can’t stop talking about it. I knew when I first read the darned thing that it was a powerfully emotional and erotic drama, but to see it enacted...’ He shook his head in disbelief and admiration. ‘Lenore’s quite brilliant, isn’t she? And that chap they’ve got playing the hero is simply incredible!’
‘He’s hardly a hero, Byron,’ Celeste remarked drily.
‘You know what I mean. Besides, I’ll bet there isn’t a woman in this theatre who’d say no to him if he put his slippers under her bed.’
‘You could be right,’ she said, revelling in the look of instant jealousy that burnt in his intense blue eyes.
‘In that case, I’m not taking you to the party afterwards. That devil will be there. Gemma can go alone!’
‘I doubt she’ll mind that,’ Celeste muttered, thinking Gemma might not want her father to see what she was up to. Despite Byron’s passionate nature, he was basically a man of old-fashioned principles. It was the man’s place to do the chasing, in his opinion, not the woman’s. Seduction was not supposed to be a woman’s domain. He was still coming to terms with Celeste’s liberated views and would not condone his daughter doing her darnedest to get her husband back in her bed by the methods she obviously meant to employ later tonight. Celeste decided it might be wise to coax Byron away from the party afterwards as early as possible.
She didn’t think she would have any trouble.
Her hand came to rest with seeming innocence on his thigh. ‘Don’t be silly, Byron,’ she said, her eyes locking on his. ‘You’ll be expected to attend. At least for a little while,’ she added, dropping her voice to a husky whisper, her hand moving ever so slightly up his leg. ‘But I see no reason why we can’t slip away early. If Gemma wants to stay and talk to Nathan she can go home to Belleview in a taxi.’
‘You’re wicked,’ he groaned, but did not remove her hand.
She simply smiled. The things a mother did for her children, Celeste thought with a stab of perverse amusement.
Byron cleared his throat. ‘Can I—er—get you two ladies a drink?’ he offered, his voice a little shaky.
‘That would be nice, darling,’ Celeste returned smoothly. ‘Champagne, I think. Celebrations are obviously in order.’
‘Champagne it is.’
‘What are we celebrating?’ Gemma asked after Byron left them. Clearly, she hadn’t been listening to their ongoing conversation.
‘The success of the play.’
Gemma grimaced. ‘I suppose I should be happy for Nathan, but I’ll never like that play. How can I when it was responsible for breaking up our marriage?’
‘The play wasn’t responsible for breaking up your marriage. Nathan was, when he refused to listen to you, when he closed his eyes and ears to your love.’
Gemma frowned as the reality of what Celeste was saying sank in. Why had Nathan turned his back on her love? Why? His blunt confession to having kept her in the dark about Celeste being her mother had been a deliberate act to drive her away and make her agree to a divorce. Would a man genuinely in love do that?
Her highly practical and logical brain reached for an answer but her heart didn’t like the one it came up with. Nathan couldn’t love her, in that case. Maybe he never had. Maybe everyone else was right and he’d only married her out of lust. Maybe he’d even found someone else...the number three Celeste had mentioned.
Panic began to set in till Gemma remembered the baby she might be carrying. Could she afford to think negative thoughts, even if they were logical ones? Love wasn’t logical, she reminded herself frantically. Love had never been logical. Perhaps it was shame and guilt that had impelled him to push her away with the only weapon he could find. That report. He did love her. He must! For if he didn’t...
God, if he didn’t!
Black thoughts swirled in her head.
‘You don’t have to go to the party afterwards,’ Celeste said quietly.
Gemma blinked, her confusion clearing as she realised that if there was even the smallest chance Nathan loved her she had to take it.
‘Oh, yes, I do,’ she said, her nerves calming a little in the face of having no alternative. ‘I don’t have any choice.’
Celeste almost argued with her daughter, till she recalled all the stupid, crazy things she had done in the name of love. Could anyone have dissuaded her at the time? She doubted it.
So she remained silent, and eventually Byron returned with the champagne. Eventually, too, the play resumed, the second half as compelling and shocking as the first. And eventually, the three of them left the theatre to go to the post-première party.
CHAPTER TWO
‘WHY didn’t you hold this party at Belleview?’ Celeste asked Byron as he drove up the ramp of the underground car park. ‘Not that I’m complaining, mind. Double Bay is a lot closer than St Ives.’
‘Which is precisely the answer to your question. The cast and crew have two performances tomorrow, it being a Saturday, and most of them live close to the city. So when Cliff offered his place as the venue I jumped at it.’
‘Who’s Cliff? One of your business cronies?’
‘He’d like to be. He’s an American movie producer who wants to buy the rights to Nathan’s play. A colleague of his snapped one up earlier in the year. When Cliff read it, he hot-footed it over here as if he was shot out of a cannon. He’s as slick as they come and thinks we Aussies have all come down in the last shower when it comes to the movie business. Which we have, in a way,’ Byron finished drily.
‘Don’t let him have the rights to this play for less than two million, Byron,’ Celeste advised. ‘I’ve heard that’s what a top screenplay commands these days.’
‘Two million, eh? You’re sure that’s not excessive?’
‘Not at all. That play will be a big hit, be it on stage or screen.’
‘You’re right!’ Byron pronounced firmly. ‘It’s easily worth two million. I’ll ask for three.’
‘That’s the spirit,’ Celeste laughed.
Gemma sat silently in the back of Byron’s Jaguar, grateful for her parents’ lively conversation. It took her mind off the evening ahead, and her mission impossible. She wondered idly what kind of place this American movie mogul had rented. A large harbour-side apartment, she supposed. A penthouse, even.
When Byron turned down a quiet Double Bay street and pulled into the kerb outside an outlandishly huge Mediterranean-style white-stuccoed mansion, her eyes almost popped out of her head. She would not have believed that any home could make Belleview pale by comparison, but she was wrong. This particular place dwarfed Byron’s home in size, outdid it for opulence, and made her realise that, while money could not buy everything, it could buy a hell of a lot!
Celeste must have been having similar thoughts.
‘If he can afford a place like this, Byron,’ she said as they climbed out of the car, ‘then three million will be just a drop in the ocean.’
A security guard checked their identities at the gates, then let them inside.
Gemma was all eyes as they made their way through the lushly tropical front garden—complete with fountain—up some statue-lined steps and on to an arched portico that was at least twenty feet wide and God knew how long. It disappeared into the dim distance as did the ranch-style building itself. The ceramic pots lining the covered veranda at regular intervals were enormous and alone would have cost a small fortune.
Byron moved over to ring the front doorbell while Gemma turned to admire the gushing fountain from the top of the steps.
‘If only Ma could see this place,’ she muttered.
‘Have you told Ma about me yet?’ Celeste asked her daughter on hearing her mention her old neighbour out at Lightning Ridge.
Gemma nodded. ‘I wrote to her last night. She’s going to be tickled pink when she finds out Byron is my father. I think she always rather fancied him.’
‘Did she, now?’ Celeste said archly. ‘I think I’ll have to put a stop to all those opal-buying trips dear Byron goes on. I’ve never subscribed to the theory that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I’m more inclined to believe out of sight out of mind, especially where the male sex is concerned!’
Gemma laughed. ‘Ma’s about seventy, Celeste. I don’t think you have to worry on that score.’
‘Worry?’ Byron butted in. ‘What are you worried about, Gemma? Look, I’m sure Nathan will come round eventually. Give the boy some time and he’ll see sense.’
Byron’s reminder of why she had come to this party brought a resurgence of nerves to Gemma’s stomach. Her confidence slipped another notch and it took all of her courage not to turn and run away.
‘Nathan is not a boy, Byron,’ Celeste advised tartly. ‘And we weren’t talking about him, anyway. Did you ring the doorbell?’
Right at that moment, the heavy front door was flung open and a big, barrel-chested man with a ruddy face and thick white hair appeared, a glass of whisky in one hand and a cigar in the other.
‘Byron, my man!’ he boomed in a broad American accent. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to show up. Everyone else has been here for a while. What kept you?’
‘The Press.’
Cliff laughed. ‘I saw them swarming all over you afterwards. I gather they were keen on the play?’
‘Very keen.’
‘How could they not be?’ the American enthused. ‘The damned thing was brilliant! If you don’t sell me the rights, I’ll have to throw myself off your Gap.’
Gemma was startled by this mention of a rather notorious Sydney suicide spot since she hadn’t really been tuned into the interchange. Her mind had been elsewhere.
Byron merely laughed. ‘That’s a bit drastic. I’m sure we could be persuaded to sell at the right price. Have you a spare three million or so?’
‘Three million! Why, you Aussie rogue, you! But let’s not talk money matters on the front doorstep. I’m much better at negotiation after a pint or two of Southern Comfort. And with a bit of luck, you won’t be,’ he chuckled.
‘Come in, ladies, come in,’ Cliff continued expansively, and threw an appreciative glance first at Celeste, then at Gemma. ‘Two women, Byron?’ he joked as he ushered the threesome into the spacious terracotta-tiled foyer. ‘I thought you were a conservative widower. Is this a side to you I haven’t seen before?’
Byron gave him a look of mock horror. ‘Good lord, Cliff, one woman is enough for me to handle, especially one like this.’ He linked arms with Celeste and drew her forward. ‘Let me introduce my fiancée, Celeste Campbell. Celeste, this is Cliff Overton.’
Celeste shook his hand and smiled with mischievous seductiveness.
Cliff whistled. ‘I see what you mean, Byron. And who’s this gorgeous young thing?’ he said on turning to Gemma. ‘I don’t recall seeing you on stage tonight, honey, yet someone as lovely-looking as you are must surely be an actress. I could set up a screen test for you, if you like,’ he whispered conspiratorially.
‘Back off, Cliff,’ Byron said, putting a protective arm around Gemma’s shoulder. ‘Gemma doesn’t want to be an actress, do you, love?’
‘Gemma! What a fantastic stage name!’ Cliff gushed on before Gemma could get a word in edgeways. ‘And so individual. All it needs is the right surname. I can see it in lights now. GEMMA STONE.’
Celeste and Gemma rolled their eyes at each other while Byron’s mouth thinned. ‘Gemma is Nathan’s wife,’ he informed drily. ‘I doubt he would like to see her name in lights.’
The American’s broad grin faded to a puzzled frown. ‘She is? But I thought Nathan was divorced. I mean, he—er—well, never mind,’ he shrugged. ‘I must have got it wrong. Nice to meet you, Gemma. You must be very proud of that genius husband of yours. That is some play he’s written. Not to mention directed. I wonder if he’d consider coming to Hollywood to direct the movie. What do you think, Byron?’
‘You’ll have to ask Nathan that. He’s his own man. I presume he’s here?’
Their host looked oddly disconcerted again. ‘Er—yes... yes, he is. Somewhere...’
‘Perhaps we could go and find him, then?’ Byron suggested, and Gemma’s stomach clenched down hard. Suddenly, she didn’t want to see Nathan. Not here. Not with a lot of other people around. She’d been stupid to come.
