Venus Was Her Name, page 26
‘I’ll ring them now, and I’ve got just enough in the tank for a meal, then I’ll retire. I’ve got some paperwork I want to tidy up. It won’t take long but it’ll set my mind at rest if I tie up loose ends. I’ll wait here until Nanou dishes up. Now off you go, you have things to do.’ Gus laid his head back and watched as everyone made a move.
Joe stood too, but there was something in Gus’s words that had unsettled him or was he being oversensitive? After the day he’d had it wasn’t surprising but as he watched his friend close his eyes, Joe resolved to be vigilant and ensure that Gus took it easy over the next few days and was kept as stress free as possible.
‘Right, young lady, let’s get this over with.’ He held out his arm and when Edie slotted in beside him, fitting perfectly under his wing, they headed to the office.
Minutes later, while he and Ace hovered outside, the door closed on a very private conversation. He could imagine the beat of Edie’s heart and just about hear her voice when Bobbie answered. ‘Hello Gran… yes, yes I’m fine. Er, are you sitting down because I have some news? NO, no I’m not hurt. No, not in trouble either… bloody hell, Gran, just listen will you? Now this is going to be a really big shock and please don’t be angry, but I’ve done a bit of a mad thing. NO, I’m not pregnant… Gran! The thing is, I’ve told you a fib because I’m not with Lana – I’m with Joe, in France. I’m with grandad.’
The last three words made Joe smile.
Chapter 29
Ace
Ace didn’t really want to go down to the gate and face the cameras, but he would do it for his dad. Not just that, he was shattered and had hardly slept, watching the clock by the bed flip numbers while by his side, Edie had snored the night away. He didn’t begrudge her a peaceful slumber because he got it now, why she’d been so restless since arriving. He was glad her mind and soul were at peace. He only wished his was.
Ace believed Edie loved him, he really did, and he believed his mum, who had taken him to one side and asked if he was okay, then said that in relationships there are many hurdles, some higher than others but when you were meant to be with someone, you found a way to get over them. He thought she was going to go all Zen and mystical on him or ring her psychic and get him a reading down the phone. Instead, she reminded him how easy it was to mess up, and how terrible it was when you couldn’t change the past.
‘And Ede’s a good kid, I know it here,’ she’d touched her heart, ‘and look at me and your dad, we made mistakes, hell’s bells I made so many, but we understood each other for who we are, and managed to stay friends so if anyone can get through this, you and Ede can.’
That had cheered Ace up a lot, because it meant that other people who felt as confused and let down as he did, somehow got back to their happy place.
They were ready to go. Lance had the statement that Oliver had prepared, and he’d been told to stick to it like glue, no deviations.
Joe had sworn on ‘me old mam and dad’s life’ that he would not comment on or react to any questions.
Jenny was channelling her own take on the country-living look; glittery silver wellies, a tatty checked fleece, and a yellow hat with the biggest bobble he’d ever seen. Yep, that’d look great on the front covers’ ‘local nutter photo bombs the Jarretts’ press call’.
His dad looked more normal, wearing his usual jeans and shirt, Aviators glued to his face. No way would he let anyone see what was going on in his head by looking into his eyes: that was restricted access. Family only.
Edie was nervous and had tried to get out of it, saying she’d stay and keep Nanou company and take Gus his breakfast if he still felt ropey. When Ace had gone up with a drink for him earlier that morning, he’d found Gus dozing, his laptop by his side on the bed so he assured Edie he’d be fine for a while longer, and anyway, she couldn’t wimp out now because he needed a hand to hold.
It was time, and Joe gathered his troops. ‘Come on, let’s get this over with. Then with a bit of luck they might all just piss off once they’ve got their shots. I’m taking the dogs too. Might let Bob and Vic loose on some ankles if the paps get nasty.’ He opened the kitchen door and led them all out, whistling his hounds over as Pierre radioed ahead to say they were on their way down to the gate.
It took six minutes to walk from the house to the road where the press was camped out and on the way down, as he held Edie’s hand and his mum linked his arm, it occurred to Ace that things were never going to be the same again. Not with a stalker on the loose, not now the world knew where Joe Jarrett lived. Gina Zilli may have made a bold and brave move when she spoke out and her film and book would bring great awareness and not before time, but she had in some ways exposed more than the truth. She’d exposed his family.
His mum and dad had tried so hard to keep him safe, let him live as normal a life as possible and now it was blown to pieces. Maybe for once Lance was right and they’d been burying their heads in the sand, thinking they could have it all, the trappings of fame and the bliss of privacy when all it took was for the past to catch up with you and blow everything you’d taken for granted out of the water.
His dad was hoping that eventually they’d be able to halve the security detail, maybe manage with just one guy and his dog, but while there were Marnies in the world, and the possibility of more with an axe to grind, their rural idyll was no more. And as moody-boy had hinted, Ace knew it was a foregone conclusion that his and Edie’s relationship would come under the spotlight and the thought of it made him sick. Which was why, as soon as it was possible, he wanted them both to disappear. Head to the Far East like they planned, blend in with the backpackers, be themselves. Edie and Ace, camera, a notebook, and their rucksacks.
Snapping him from his worries, Jenny gave Ace a nudge. ‘Here we go, Lancy-boy’s big moment… you think he rang his agent and told him he’d be on TV? I bet ya he’s been practising in front of the mirror half the night and was up early choosing his outfit. I mean seriously, he looks like he’s going to read the news on Fox. He got Nanou to iron his shirt and chinos. At least he managed to polish his shiny shoes himself which proves there are such things as miracles. Who knew?’
Edie laughed beside him, and he suspected it was partly from nerves, then she turned to Jenny. ‘Do you think? He definitely seems to be in his element… not bricking it like I am. I so wish I’d worn a hat like you, and some sunglasses.’
Ace actually thanked God that Edie hadn’t borrowed one of his mother’s hats. But it was too late to worry about the dress code because as they rounded the bend and the camera crews came into sight, Ace could hear the whirring of shutters and cries of ‘they’re here’ before they’d even got close to the gate.
Turning to Edie, Ace gave her hand a squeeze, conning himself into being brave. ‘Don’t worry, just stay by my side and hold on tight, it’ll be okay. I’ll look after you.’
Her face broke into a smile, and she squeezed back. ‘I know you will, and that’s why I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.’
That’s when Ace knew that his mum was right, amidst calls and whirs and flashes and clicks, that no matter what, they would get through all this, him and Edie, his dad, all of them. They just had to stick together and hold on tight.
Everyone was gathered in the kitchen for a late breakfast, now that nerves had left the building and they’d survived the media frenzy, without Joe telling them to fuck off, or someone being savaged by an overprotective Spaniel. On the walk back, after showing a united front, Ace hadn’t let on to Edie how much the whole spectacle had rocked him, the awful questions they’d hurled at his dad:
‘Joe, Joe, are there any skeletons in your closet? Did you sleep with underage girls? Is it true you slept with Harlem too? Have you anything to say about Wendy Parker, the girl who died on your tour bus? Was she abused by Denny Sullivan?’
His dad had simply turned his back and walked away, muttering the worst expletives under his breath while Lance milked his moment by insisting there would be no further statements and repeating the words ‘no comment’ about twenty-five times. He could be such a dick.
Lance, the press, the flashbulbs, they’d all made Ace nauseous, like he was going to throw up on the driveway. But it was done with now and they were home, safe inside the house, and the very place where he’d felt so cooped up was now a sanctuary. He absorbed himself in his surroundings. Familiarity calmed him.
Nanou was fussing over everyone, Edie was by his side pouring coffee, his dad was feeding the dogs and telling Riva off for being greedy, Silvestre was handing out glasses of his home-made guérir-tout that he swore would cure anything, regardless of the hour or malady. His mum had gone to check on Gus and Lance was watching himself on Sky News, again.
Just another normal day at The Jarretts’.
He was just about settling down, almost enjoying the vibe when he saw Jenny enter the room, her face alabaster white, her eyes round and instead of speaking, for a moment she just stood there, her hand flat against the door frame for support.
Ace’s heart lurched. ‘Mum, MUM, what’s wrong?’
The room fell silent, and all eyes focused on Jenny as she spoke, her voice barely audible. ‘It’s Gus… he’s gone… I thought he was sleeping at first but then I realised.’ Her eyes searched for Joe. ‘Oh Joe, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but Gus is dead.’
Six days. The worst of Ace’s whole life had gone by in a blur. Nobody had ever died before. Well, they had but not in his family, anyone close like this. He’d mourned pets and had to have a day off school when Bunny, his rabbit, went over the rainbow bridge but this was like the sky had come down and was squashing him flat against the floor.
It was there when he lay in bed at night, pushing down on the roof and then the ceiling that closed in, forcing him to shut his eyes. It was like a weight, that was the best way to describe grief. An invisible force that dragged you down. There when you went to sleep and as soon as you opened your eyes in the morning. And now it was the day of the funeral and Ace didn’t think he could bear it. How sad his dad looked, as though he was lost, looking up and realising, Oh yeah, Gus is gone. Can’t see him, can’t phone him, can’t laugh with him, or call him a dickhead, or drink whisky down to the label. Forty years, gone, no coming back.
And Ace was going to punch Lance who had been acting like some big fucking hero, loving the fact their dad was falling to pieces and that someone needed to liaise with Oliver in London. Edie and his mum had noticed too, and all of them hoped Oliver was savvy enough to see what Lance was after. He was still being a moron where Edie was concerned, barely acknowledging she was in the room, scowling when she spoke. Ace had mentioned it to Jenny who had seen it too, saying he was behaving the same way he had towards her and Ace when they arrived on the scene, and it was about time he grew the fuck up.
Following the discovery of Gus, they’d had to follow procedures and as a consequence any hope of the press buggering off had been well and truly scuppered by the arrival of the gendarmes. It fed the news team’s ravenous appetite for a scoop and once again, images of the blue cars, and then the private ambulance arriving and departing La Babinais were pinged across the globe and the rumours began again.
You really couldn’t have made it up, some of the tweets and posts on social media, the guessing games – ‘Has gun-toting Joe Jarrett lost control? Who died at his remote country idyll? What secrets are the men who guard his million-euro property keeping? Another tragedy in the sordid life of Joe Jarrett.’
When Lance made another public plea for privacy and understanding, his well-enunciated words fell on deaf ears. And even though Ace thought Jenny was being overcautious slash dramatic, Edie agreed that it was a good idea to hide Joe’s shotgun cartridges, just in case.
While the gloom settled over the farmhouse, Nanou and Silvestre had been diamonds, helping Jenny arrange the funeral that had to take place within a six-day window. And because it would be a private burial, according to Gus’s well-laid-out wishes, they had to get permission from the local prefecture before it could go ahead. The ceremony would be humanist and very simple. It was the list of mourners that was going to be a problem.
Joe stuck like glue to what was written. Gus didn’t want a fuss, no showbiz names, just the people he cared about the most. Anne, Gus’s sister, was too poorly but her daughter and husband would attend on her behalf. Steve and Chaz were flying over, along with Oliver. Denny was NOT on the list. It hadn’t gone down well and there had been an almighty row between him and Joe that they all listened to on loudspeaker.
‘Who the fuck do you think you are, telling me I’m not welcome?’
‘Just doing what Gus wanted, and you are definitely surplus to requirements. So, stay the fuck away. Nobody wants you here. Take a hint.’ Joe was pacing the room, shouting at his phone that lay on the kitchen table.
‘I know exactly what you’re doing, Joe. You’re hanging me out to dry and I’m not having it. If Chaz and Ste are going to be there, I should be there too. What’s it going to look like? The press will have a field day. Talk about turning your backs… you might as well get a sign printed saying you agree with those slags. For fuck’s sake, Joe, it’s not like you’re an angel so quit the holier-than-thou routine. It won’t wash with me.’
Joe sprinted over to the phone and if Denny was there in the room, their foreheads would have been locked together as Joe bawled at the screen. ‘Never said I was, you disgusting piece of shit, and neither did Chaz and Steve, but we are nothing like you, so I’ll tell you one more time, stay away. You’re not wanted now or ever. Take a fucking hint.’
‘I’ll sue. I mean it. You cut me off and I’ll sue your arse for every penny you got, you hear me?’
Joe threw his head back and laughed. ‘Ha, you pillock… we’ve been here before, remember, and you lost so do us all a favour and them poor kids of yours, save your money… I reckon where you’re going, you’ll need it.’
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Just fuck off, Denny. Don’t ring again and let the lawyers and Oliver deal with the shitshow you’ve caused. And have some respect. My best friend is dead… DO YOU HEAR ME? FUCK OFF!’
It was at this point that Jenny leant over and pressed End Call because Ace’s dad was on the verge of losing it big time. They all were.
Edie came and sat by Ace on the sofa while they waited for Gus to arrive. Even that sounded wrong, like he was coming for his summer holiday, not to be buried on the hill in a coffin. Stop thinking stuff like that, stop it, now.
They were perched on the edge of the cushions, both holding hands, squished together like they were outside the headmaster’s office waiting to be told off. Edie smoothed down her dress. ‘It feels wrong, to wear something flowery, and I hate this cardy, it’s all too summery. Like it’s disrespectful but I suppose if it’s what Gus wanted…’
Ace was wearing dark jeans and his best pair of trainers, the ones he kept in a box for special occasions that he sprayed with Scotchgard so they wouldn’t scuff. ‘Trust him to insist we all wore our normal clothes. He said rock and rollers don’t do suits and Dad would look bloody ridiculous, which is actually true.’ He’d already told Edie this about five times and cringed. It was like his brain kept getting stuck in a groove. They both laughed anyway. It lasted about two seconds.
Then the needle changed tracks and he was off again, engine running, steam whistle blowing. ‘Edie, I need to get away, or at least make some plans, proper ones. Book some flights and a place to stay so I know that it’s going to happen. That this will all be over, and I can breathe again and walk about like normal without Hervé asking where I’m going.’
When he was little and at the dentist, his mum used to jiggle his hands, trying to keep him happy when he was terrified and it made him smile when Edie did the same, squeezing and jiggling and saying something jolly. ‘We’ll do it tomorrow. I promise. We could start a scrapbook. Print things off and stick them in, maps and stuff like that. It can be our almanac, with an itinerary, a wish list of places we want to go, a proper written down one that’s not just dreams or misty ideas in our head. I know scrapbooks are my weird thing, but it can be our weird thing too.’
‘You definitely still want to go?’ He turned his head and had to ask again because everything was so… blancmange. Wobbly, not fixed and he needed things to be firm, organised. Like a block of chocolate, hard and solid so you could break it into chunks if you wanted. Eat a bit at a time and at your own pace.
Edie nudged him. ‘Of course I want to go. You know I do, so stop it.’ She gave him a look that had come to mean, ‘I love you. Remember. Me and you, side by side.’
That’s why he loved her. That’s why they were right together. They could read each other’s minds. Hold on to that, hold on to that.
Edie interrupted his mantra. ‘I’ve been thinking about our trip too. We’ll have to make sure Joe’s okay; we can’t just abandon him even though he’s got Nanou and Silvestre. And I know your mum’s missing Hector, so she’ll be heading out soon. She told me this morning that she needs hot se–’ He felt Edie freeze and saw her blush and grin at the same time. ‘Oops, sorry – too much information.
‘She said she wants us to visit the ranch which would be nice. Let’s do a special page about Mexico City. We could detour there on our trip. Do you know how far Malaysia is from Mexico…?’ She let go of his hand for a second, fiddling with the cuff of her cardigan, turning the cuff up, then back down like she couldn’t make up her mind.
