The Catch Up, page 3
It was only when he picked up his glass to find it was empty he realised how long he’d been sitting there.
Night had fallen, and the street—and quayside—lights were on. The crowds had thinned out, and the people that were around appeared less stressed and more chilled.
The Friday night feeling? Probably. Thom stared at his glass thoughtfully. One more?
Why not. He’d not got anyone or anything to head home to. Or in his case, head hotel to. The burger had taken the edge off his hunger, and if he was peckish later on, there were plenty of snack bars in the hotel’s vicinity.
He’d have another pint.
He bought it and headed back to the steps only to see the place he’d been sitting was now occupied.
By someone he knew.
“Jan?”
Jan Fraser glanced up and froze. Her expression was wooden as she gave him the slightest of nods.
“Thomas? Fancy meeting you here.” She didn’t sound particularly enamoured at that.
“Fancy,” he said and gestured to the step next to her. “May I?”
She shrugged. “I can’t stop you, but please leave enough space for my companion. He’s just gone to get our drinks.”
As a mood depressor, she couldn’t have done better. Thom inclined his head. “I wouldn’t dream of usurping him.”
Jan smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “You couldn’t.”
It was enough for him to move to the other end of the steps and make sure he sat with his back to her.
Chapter Two
Bugger fu…flick and damnation. And why, oh why the sting of arousal now, for goodness’ sake? Not needed, not wanted. Definitely not expected. The last thing she desired.
Or is it? Jan blocked that thought out.
“Now then, who was that?” Martin asked as he nodded towards the man now several yards away and well out of earshot. “Do I need to go all over masterful? Not easy according to Peggy.” His wife. He sat next to Jan and handed her a glass of wine. “Peggy is on her way and she says to tell you she’s remembered you wanted that knitting pattern or something and she’s got it. The Sunny Bay ferry made a noise and I didn’t catch exactly what she said.”
“Great,” Jan said absently, her mind buzzing. What on earth was Thom doing there so early, and at the quayside bar? Coincidence or on purpose?
“Right, I need to know, who was the bloke?”
“What? The…? Ah, an old acquaintance,” Jan said. “Brother of a mate.”
“He looked like he wanted to be more than that,” Martin said shrewdly. “Seemed gobsmacked when you knocked him back. You did, didn’t you?”
“Yup.” Jan nodded. “He’s not even an ember anymore.” I hope.
“So he was a spark?” Martin queried as he sipped his beer. “I know, nosy is me, but Peg will want to know. I like to have the gen first for a change.”
“Well now you have. A spark, well out.”
“Have you told him that?”
“No need. If he didn’t get it, that’s not my fault. He went.” And it takes two to tango. She ignored that thought. “Now let’s change the subject. Did you try that recipe for chicken I gave you?”
“Fair enough.” Martin stretched his legs out in front of him. “We did, it was great. Before I forget, and changing the subject totally and utterly, Peggy says, do you fancy a role as an extra in the film they’re making?” Peggy worked for a small but up-and-coming film company. “She reckons it’s going to be a big, big hit, and if it is, there’s talk of a TV series. Couple of good stars from both movies and TV and a couple of the next hot ones. Her words, not mine.”
“What are? Hi, Jan.” Peggy sprinted up the steps towards them. “Martin, love of my life, where’s mine?” She waved at their drinks. “Favouritism.”
Martin stood up. “Just getting it, didn’t want it to get warm.”
“Fair enough.” Peggy sat down on the step her husband had vacated. “Quick comeback. Okay, Jan, has he asked you?”
“Asked me what?” Jan procrastinated. Anything to do with TV series or movies with Thomas in the area sounded suspiciously like something she’d prefer to avoid.
“One, will you be an extra next weekend, and two, will you come to a wee afternoon barbie on Sunday. I’m being the good PA and sorting it out for the cast of this series we’re doing. Not in our postage stamp, in Alex and Sasha Cheng’s. Discovery Bay. Around two. Pretty please to all of it. Gives us a chance to be nosy.”
Jan laughed. “Maybe.”
Peggy gave an over-the-top pout and did her best upset whippet expression.
Jan waggled her finger at her friend. “Enough. Your face will stick like that if you’re not careful.”
“Ha, my mum used to say that as well.” Peggy sniggered. “Seriously, though, will you? It would help me a lot. Get me brownie points.”
“You told me you were never a brownie.”
“PA points then. Will you? Pretty please.”
“Oh, okay. Ditch the hangdog expression.” Jan accepted she was beaten. Peggy was a good mate and mates helped each other out whenever possible. If Thomas was around, she’d deal with it somehow. “I’ll come to the barbie and think about the extra. It’s not really my sort of stuff. Don’t like acting. Crap at it. What you see is what you get.” Though if Thomas is around for long, I better get used to putting on an expressionless face. No way am I letting him know I got the wee body tightening scenario when I saw him. “Dish the gen a bit more. I need information. What exactly is it for and for whom?”
“Alex and Sasha of course. It’s their new thing. Going to be a megahit, I reckon. Detective thingy, set here and in Scotland and with a couple of brits in it.”
“Here and Scotland?” That made her ‘something is going hit me hard’ sense go on high alert, especially when she’d just seen Thomas and she was due to head to Scotland…
Jan spluttered the mouthful of wine she’d just taken. Here and Scotland? Brits? That sharp prick of suspicion hit her again. Was it a conspiracy?
Was it a TV series not a film near the hotel Peggy was talking about? She’d need to check. “Any idea where?”
Peggy smiled ruefully. “Can’t say yet, sorry. But get this, evidently according to Lois, Sasha’s sister, the supporting actor is hot stuff, and if he played his cards right he could have her any which way. Here or Scotland.”
“Grief, Peggy, the pictures that conjures up,” she said when she could speak without choking. “How old is she?” And what’s he like?
Peggy rolled her eyes. “She’s in her late twenties according to her. I’d add a few years onto that. Plus she’s on husband or live-in lover number goodness knows how many. Or she might be over the last one, I lose count. According to one of the makeup girls, the bloke Lois has her eyes on is in his thirties, a really nice guy who metaphorically runs a mile when he sees Lois.”
“Only metaphorically? She can’t be that bad, surely?” It all sounded a bit over the top to Jan.
“Believe me, she is,” Peggy said earnestly. “Maneater is an understatement. Even the guy who brings the mail makes sure she’s not about when he comes in, and he’s ninety if he’s a day, with three teeth and halitosis.”
Jan spluttered. “Bloody hell, that could give me nightmares. Put me off my food and whatever.”
“Yes, well.” Peggy shrugged. “You get my drift?”
Jan nodded. She’d be interested to see if this Lois person looked at all like Peggy painted her. “I get it, but why is it such a big deal? I mean, she’s not got anything to do with the filming, has she?”
Peggy sighed. “Sadly, she’s been taken on as a gofer. Not that she goes for much. Unless it’s in trousers.”
“Miaow. Or a kilt? You know? Scotland. Scotsmen. Tartan.”
“Oh wow.” Peggy sniggered. “Never thought of that, and a real, true Scotsman to boot. Gawd help him, he’s got a couple of scenes in a kilt. Anyway, that’s another story. When she said they need an extra to, er, be near him, we thought of you.”
“Sacrificial lamb? Gee, thanks. Why? I’m not certified or whatever you call it,” Jan said hurriedly. That suspicious sensation was getting stronger. The prickle was more of a pain. “So best not to count me in.”
“It’s only a nonspeaking extra, so it’s okay. There will be a fair few of you. But you sort of look as if you’d be his type.”
Whose type?
“So…” With a murmur of thanks, Jan took the fresh glass of wine Martin handed her and returned to the previous subject. “You want me to stand next to some bloke whose name you won’t divulge, on my day off and what? Thump this Lois woman if she gets too close? Not my thing really. I don’t do violence.” Well not all the time, though I do on occasion think I could make an exception for a certain bloke. “Stare adoringly into his eyes? Not my scene either. Stand on his toes? I’d probably not make an impression in my size fives unless I borrowed May’s Jimmy Choos, and they’d be too big for me.” Much to Jan’s sorrow. “Lust over the kilt? Been there, done that. Ignore him? That would defeat the objective I think. So what? Oh.” She thought of something else. “Come to mention it, what sort of type is his? Do you mean the man or the role?”
Peggy appeared discomforted and Martin laughed as he gave Peggy her wine. “She has you there, my love. Time to tell the truth, the whole truth and so help you, miss nothing out?”
Jan nodded. “Succinctly put. So far you’ve told me bugger all, Peggy.”
“Not true. I told you what we need,” Peggy protested, but she didn’t look Jan in the eye and twiddled with her earring.
“Liar, liar, pants on fire. You prevaricated.”
Peggy stuck her tongue out.
“You’ll catch flies like that. Come on, Peg, you know you’ve only shared part of the story and not enough. I need more than that to give one of my days off up, especially as—” Jan broke off. Was she supposed to keep her visit to the UK a secret? “As it’ll soon be too hot to want to do much unless it involves the beach or air con,” she added, somewhat lamely.
“Oh, okay.” Peggy sighed gustily. “Put it like this, if you aren’t there to do the stand next to him bit, Sasha is worried sick Lois will insist and who knows what will happen. The rumours of Lois’ what should I call it, stalking the guy, have reached her ears. She insists it can’t be true, that Lois would never make a fool of herself over any man, but…” She shrugged. “I reckon she’s not prepared to take the risk. The guy is remarkably even-tempered, but even he will have a breaking point and in my opinion, Lois is it. I think Sasha and Alex are now having second thoughts about letting Lois be involved, but would never say so.”
“Why did they?” Jan asked with interest. “From the way you’ve talked about her, it sounds as if it would be beneath her.”
“Ah, but, it appears that husband number whatever is not as free spending as she’d like and she needs pin money. And a bloke to get her claws into, but they never thought about that until it was too late. Now she’s determined to get said claws into this one.”
“Who is?”
Peggy looked about them. Jan chuckled. The nearest couple were involved in tonsil tennis and oblivious to anyone except themselves. A few people were standing and chatting next to the bar and the only other person was a man with his back to them, scrolling through something on a tablet.
She recognised him.
Thomas. Dammit. Why is he popping up all over the place? I thought he’d gone. I couldn’t see him last time I checked. Mind you, she reasoned, she’d only taken a cursory glance around. If he’d been at one of the stalls she could have easily missed seeing him. He should have gone. That was a bit unfair, but Jan was in no mood for fairness.
“Well?” she demanded a lot more harshly than she intended. “Fess up or I’ll say no to everything.” She tempered her words at Peggy’s astonished look. “Please, Peg, I need info.”
“Rotter. Okay, but this is for your ears only. Well, and big lug’s.” Peggy nodded in Martin’s direction. He grinned and waggled his ears.
“Unfair, they aren’t that big.”
“Peggy, facts and bumf,” Jan demanded. When the couple started their bantering it could go on for ages. “Or I’m off home.”
“Okay, okay, right then. An up-and-coming actor who deserves more than Lois, and according to Alex will soon be at the top. A guy called Thomas Clare.”
Bugger. I thought so.
“Not a cat in hells chance then,” Jan said emphatically. “Nada, non, niet, nae chance.”
“Why on earth not?” Peggy demanded. “Explain.”
Jan smiled. Judging by Peggy’s startled expression it wasn’t a pleasant smile.
Jan nodded in Thomas’ direction.
“Go and ask him.”
“Pardon,” Peggy said in a bewildered voice. “Ask who?”
“Thomas Clare. That’s him over there, back to us. Dark hair. Reading. Not in a kilt sadly, but you can’t have everything.”
Thom glanced up at the tall woman who cleared her throat as she stood next to him. As far as he knew he’d never seen her in his life, but he’d not turn down the chance to speak to anyone at that moment. He’d never felt so lonely or unwanted in his life and it hurt. The fact he’d brought it on himself didn’t negate that.
He smiled. “Hi, can I help you?”
The woman bit her lip. “I hope so. I’ve been told you’re Thomas Clare. Is that right?”
I wonder who told her that. Interesting. It intrigued him enough to stand up, pay attention and learn more. “Sure is. Thom to my friends. Pleased to meet you, Miss? Mrs…?” He held out his hand and hoped she’d answer him.
The lady shook hands. “Mrs. Peggy Crossland. I’m PA to Alex and Sasha Cheng, who are directing your TV series, though I’ve been off a couple of weeks. I’m trying to persuade a friend to be an extra who has to stand next to you in one of the crowd scenes. She says you won’t want her.”
“Who is that?” Suspicion filled his mind. He had a good idea.
“My mate, Jan.”
Thom grinned again. This was going to be interesting “Jan Fraser?”
Peggy’s eyes widened. “The very one. You do know her?”
“Oh, yes. I’d be delighted to have her there, next to me.” Anyone rather than the piranha who had been eyeing him up like her next dinner when he’d been to the offices of the TV series directors. He reckoned the woman was a good ten or twelve years older than him—not that would have been a problem if he’d fancied her, but he didn’t. However, her predatory glances had given him the heebie-jeebies. He’d been relieved to get out intact and admitted he’d headed for a little-known bar to hide out until he was reasonably sure he was safe. Ever since, he’d done his best to give her a wide berth whenever he’d seen her. Apart from the time he’d accidentally stood next to her in a coffee shop, and trying to be polite—and no more—had bought her a coffee. He’d rued the gesture ever since. She’d obviously thought it had meant he was interested in her, and hounded him. Jan could be a good foil.
If she was prepared to be.
“Fair warning. Jan might think otherwise, though.”
“Want to come and tell her she’s wrong?” Peggy asked. “She’s over there next to my beloved. We’ve all been friends since Martin and I came out here a few months after Jan did. They work for the same company.”
Thom stood up. The next few minutes could be interesting. “It will be my pleasure.”
But not Jan’s, he suspected. Tough. Thom stowed his tablet in his backpack and finished his beer. “After you. Can we go via the bar?” He’d a suspicion he’d need a pint whatever the outcome. “Happy to shout a round.”
“We’re okay, Martin’s just done it. Just get one for yourself. You can shout us one next time.”
Jan scowled as they walked up the steps to where she and Martin sat. Thom could almost see her mind working.
Along the lines of, ‘Of course, Peggy would invite him over and he’d say yes. Sod him.’
Sod her then. No, not that, be kind and charming? Maybe just cool and collected. Thom nodded to Jan as he shook hands with Martin. “Hi, Thom Clare, over here to make a film which might become a TV series. Some of it anyway. I’m just a bit player. Happy to be back in Hong Kong. It’s been way too long.”
“You’ve been before?” Martin asked as Thom sat down. “Miss it?”
“Yeah, fair few times and yeah, miss it. Not here recently, though, been too busy back home. But when I was offered this part I jumped at it. Great script, great big stars—I don’t include me in there—great location and dare I say it a great chance to catch up with old friends.”
“Of which Jan is one?” Martin asked, curiosity in his tone.
“Better ask Jan,” Thom said easily and waited to hear what she would say.
The silence stretched as she considered him. Just as he was about to say, ‘okay, no worries’, and make his farewells, she smiled—reluctantly he thought.
“The jury is out.”
He raised his eyebrows and she laughed.
“Oh, sit down. Feinites.”
“Eh?” Peggy asked. “That’s a new one on me. Sounds a bit medieval.”
“Might be. Or some obscure London slang. Suspend the battle. My mum used to use it when she played alley gobs. That’s chuck stones or five stones to most people. Means a truce, I was told, but don’t quote me on my explanation, please.”
Thom wiped his forehead in a theatrical manner and did his best to ignore the way the other couple were taking an interest in his and Jan’s byplay. He’d bet she’d be peppered with questions later. “Phew. Standing up with all my stuff and not spilling my beer is not easy.” He perched on the step next to her and apologised to a couple trying to get by. Jan shuffled along a foot or so and he did likewise. “Thanks. Or I might end up getting trodden on. And don’t say I’d deserve it.”
