was a banquet, and then everyone crowded around the huge television screen on the wall. There was the opening music and the announcer came on.
‘Hello, folks! It’s time for Pick a Star, the programme where you, the viewer, vote the star in and the dunces off. And tonight’s contestants are—’
As soon as Charlie began his comedy act, everyone knew this was the winner. None of the other seven contestants could hold a candle to him. Even Pippa, who knew how rigorously Lee had had him trained as a favour to her, was impressed by his quality.
‘Now it’s voting time, folks—the moment when you choose the winner. Here are the phone numbers.’
When he got to Charlie’s number everyone scribbled frantically and hauled out their cellphones to ring and cast their votes. Angela dived for the house phone and put her call through.
‘How long do we wait? ‘ Angela asked.
‘Half an hour,’ Pippa told her, ‘but Lee said there wouldn’t be any question. He’s sure Charlie will win and go on into the next round but, even if he doesn’t, Lee’s got an agent already interested in him.’
The minutes crawled past and at last it was time to gather around the set to learn the winner. When Charlie’s name was announced, the room erupted.
There he was on screen, triumphantly repeating his act, his face full of delight, and more than delight: fulfilment. The applause grew, the credits rolled. It was over.
One by one, the guests departed. A beseeching look from Angela made Pippa stay behind the others and she understood that Angela didn’t want to be alone. Her house was going to be very empty now.
She led the way into the conservatory and poured Pippa a glass of champagne.
‘It’s so kind of you to stay a while, my dear. I know everything’s going to change now, and I’m ready for it as long as Charlie is doing what will make him happy.’ She added in a confiding tone, ‘I must admit that I hoped you and Charlie. but there, he says you’re like a friendly big sister.’
‘I hope I am.’
‘Oh, dear, how sad.’
‘Sad?’
‘I would have loved to welcome you into the family as Charlie’s wife.’ An idea seemed to strike her. ‘You don’t think you could make do with Roscoe, do you?’
‘What?’
‘I know it’s a lot to ask, but you never know, you might make him human.’
‘Angela, please don’t go thinking like that. There’s no way Roscoe and I could ever…please don’t.’
‘No, I suppose you’re right. I’m being selfish, I suppose. I’ve always wanted a daughter because you can’t talk to a man as you can to a woman, and I’ve had nobody to talk to since my husband died. Charlie was just a child and Roscoe…well, he’s only interested in making money. To be fair, he gives it too, but he seems to think that’s all that’s needed.’
‘Gives it? ‘ Pippa echoed cautiously.
‘He’s got charities he gives to, hospitals in the Third World, that sort of thing, but signing cheques is easy. It’s affection he finds difficult.’
‘But maybe it’s just a different way of showing affection,’ Pippa said urgently. ‘Putting your arms around a sick child is fine and beautiful, but if that child is dying for lack of the right medicine, then surely it’s the man who signs the cheque that buys the medicine who’s shown the real feeling? At any rate, I’ll bet that’s what the child’s mother would say.’
Angela stared at her. ‘You sound like Roscoe.’
‘And he’s right,’ Pippa said robustly. There was a curious kind of satisfaction in defending Roscoe when he wasn’t there. It was when he was there that the trouble started.
‘Have you ever tried to talk to him?’ she asked gently. ‘You might find more sympathy in Roscoe than you thought.’
‘Do you think so? Have those wonderful all-seeing eyes of yours bored into him and found something the rest of the world missed?’
This was so close to the truth that Pippa was momentarily lost for words. She recovered enough to say, ‘Who knows? He works so hard at not letting people see what he’s really like, almost as though part of him was afraid.’
‘Afraid? Him?’
‘Sometimes the man with the strongest armour is the one who needs it most for…whatever reason.’
‘You may be right,’ Angela sighed. ‘It’s just that I’ve always found it hard to forgive Roscoe for William’s death. If he’d taken on a bigger share of the work—’
‘But he was just a boy,’ Pippa protested. ‘About the same age Charlie is now. Would you blame Charlie in the same way?’
‘No, of course not, but—’ Angela checked herself as though the realisation had startled her. ‘Roscoe has always seemed different.’
‘Seemed is the word,’ Pippa said. ‘He was young, learning the business and probably completely confused. Then his father died. Maybe he blamed himself, then he discovered that you blamed him—’
‘I never said so,’ Angela hurried to say. ‘Oh, but I wouldn’t need to say so, would I?’
‘No. But he wouldn’t say anything either, and so you lost each other all these years ago.’
Angela was silent, looking sad, and after a moment Pippa ventured to ask, ‘Was your husband at all like that?’
‘Oh, no. William was talkative and open-hearted. He told me everything—absolutely everything. Our marriage was blissfully happy.’
She held up the hand with the glittering diamond ring. ‘At least I’ve always had this as a symbol of his love. I kiss it goodnight every evening when I go to bed, and for a moment I can imagine he’s still there. We loved each other so much until he…until he.’ She was suddenly shivering. ‘He died in a car crash. Taken from me suddenly, with no goodbye. Oh, if he’d had the chance to say goodbye he would have been so kind—’
With a feeling of sick dread, Pippa realised that Angela knew the truth, despite her frantic denials. Beneath her smiling facade, she was hiding another self, permanently tormented. It was a self that the outside world must never be allowed to see, and in that she was just like her elder son.
Now Pippa knew what she must do. Going to sit beside Angela, she put her arms gently about her and held her close.
‘You remember him as a kind man who loved you,’ she said. ‘And that’s what really matters—all the good years you shared—loving each other—’
‘Yes, yes—no!’ Angela’s voice suddenly rose to a shriek and sobs shook her. ‘No, he left me,’ she wept. ‘He took his own life, although he knew I loved him. He went away from me because he wanted to, and it destroyed me and he didn’t care. He didn’t care.’
‘That’s not true,’ Pippa said, tightening her arms. ‘He didn’t stop loving you. He was just full of despair. His mind was so dark that he wasn’t his real self. It was another man who took his own life, not the one you knew. He didn’t reject you. That was someone else who only looked like him.’
She wondered if she had any right to say this when she didn’t really believe it. William Havering’s suicide had indeed been a betrayal of those who loved and needed him, and she’d said as much to Roscoe. But this desperate woman could not have endured it.
She knew she’d made the right decision when Angela raised her head, her eyes frantically searching Pippa’s face.
‘Do you mean that?’ she whispered.
‘Yes, I do. He must have