Olivia Flies High Page 12

  “Take your time,” said the physio. “There’s no hurry. We’ve got all day if you need it.”

  Olivia took a deep breath. Now she was out of bed she was intensely aware of how bruised and battered her body felt, and she was more nervous than she ever imagined it was possible to be about the simple act of putting one foot in front of another. Walking, she thought to herself, was like breathing. As long as you didn’t think about it, it was easy-peasy. But as soon as you did, it became difficult and made you feel a bit panicky.

  Her body – so lithe and strong and supple – had always done exactly what she wanted it to do, and she had never thought what it must feel like to have a body that let you down. She caught Alicia’s eye and smiled at her with a pang of sympathy, thinking how her granny lived every day with the terrible pain of arthritis and how Alicia’s twisted hands and feet prevented her from doing the things she loved most in the world: dancing and acting on the West End stage.

  Still holding tightly to the bars and concentrating intensely, Olivia slowly moved one foot in front of the other. She paused, then she did the same with the other foot. She looked up, her eyes shining, and saw everyone in the room was watching her intently and smiling too.

  She was about to joke that this walking business was a piece of cake, when Pablo’s mobile phone rang. Guiltily he took it out of his pocket, pressed a button, said, “Pablo Catalano,” and turned to leave the room with the phone clasped to his ear. He had almost reached the door when he turned slowly around, the colour draining from his face. He gave a tiny cry of distress. “I’ll call you straight back,” he said abruptly.

  Everyone stared at him. A frown crossed Alicia’s face. He beckoned her to leave the room with him, but Olivia cried out, “What is it? What’s happened?” Her eyes searched Pablo’s anguished face. “It’s Dad, isn’t it?” she said wildly. “Something’s happened to Dad!”

  Pablo nodded, his eyes wet with unshed tears. “His plane, it go missing. Radio contact was lost and it didn’t return to the airfield. As soon as it’s light they will look for it again. But they are thinking they must have ditched the plane for some reason or…” His voice tailed off.

  “Or what?” asked Alicia quietly.

  “Or it must have crashed,” said Pablo.

  Eel gave a great howl like a wounded animal. Olivia felt as if all the air had suddenly been sucked out of the room and she was gasping for breath. She tried to take another step forwards, but her legs simply collapsed beneath her and she fell to the ground.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Eel was sitting on the roof of the Duke’s Theatre staring out over London. She’d wanted to be alone, and it was surprisingly hard to find somewhere to be on your own in a theatre as late afternoon turned to early evening. Wardrobe were bustling in and out of the dressing rooms with freshly laundered and mended costumes, and the backstage staff were playing cards, doing crosswords and drinking tea in the Green Room.

  She had wandered through the maze of backstage corridors and found the little staircase that led up to the roof. It was dark and dingy, but Eel felt that there was also something a bit magical about it, like the staircase the princess in The Sleeping Beauty climbs before discovering the old woman with her spinning wheel in a forgotten room right at the top of the castle. There was no little room at the top of the Duke’s, but there was a solid steel door and, much to Eel’s surprise, there was a key in the lock. She had struggled to turn it but eventually it had clicked, although the door itself was so heavy that she had to push with all her might before it swung open.

  When she stepped out on to the roof, it felt as if she had found her own secret magic place. The city was spread out as far as the eye could see, winking and twinkling like a giant funfair. She peered over the edge of the balustrade, careful not to get too close; it fell away to a narrow ledge about three metres below where somebody had chucked an old roll of carpet.

  The night was particularly mild. It was cloudy and there were no stars in the sky. But the city shimmered and glittered as if trying to make up for it. Down below in the streets she knew that people would be laughing and smiling as they began their evenings. But Eel didn’t feel that there was anything in her life to smile about.

  She looked across the alleyway to the roof of the Royal Vic Theatre below her. Its roof had been enclosed by a waist-high wall, decked over and turned into a bar and restaurant, and as she looked down on it she could see it beginning to fill up with chattering pre-theatre diners, unaware they were being spied on from the neighbouring roof. Eel moved back; with the exception of Livy, who she wanted to be with whenever she could, Eel wanted to get away from people.

  Alicia had tried to persuade Eel to withdraw, at least temporarily, from The Sound of Music, but Eel knew she was better off performing; otherwise she would just spend all her time waiting. Waiting for news of Jack; waiting for Olivia to get better; waiting for all the waiting to stop.

  But people found it difficult to look her in the eye. Even Tom and Georgia were treating her differently, talking to her in hushed voices and with serious faces. Over Christmas she had gone to the Victoria and Albert Museum with Livy and Jack and seen an ancient Ming vase that Jack had told them was so fragile it couldn’t be touched. Now Eel felt that people were treating her like that vase and behaving as if she might shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

  But Eel knew that she was strong. She was stronger than her sister, who was lying not far away in her hospital bed, her face and spirit turned against the world. Livy was the shattered vase, not her. Livy hadn’t walked a step since she had collapsed in the physiotherapy department on hearing the news of the disappearance of Jack’s plane. It was as if everything that had happened, culminating in the terrible news from Idaho, had broken Livy. And Eel knew exactly who was to blame. She sat in the darkness, brooding. She was going to get Katie Wilkes-Cox to face up to what she’d done if it was the last thing she did.

  Alicia and Pablo were having a meeting with Olivia’s doctor. After Olivia had been picked up off the floor of the physiotherapy department, she had sunk back into her wheelchair and refused to budge.

  “We’ve run every test,” said the doctor, “and we can’t find anything seriously physically wrong with her that would explain her apparent inability to walk since her collapse in the physiotherapy department.”

  “That’s magnifico news,” said Pablo.

  “It’s not quite that simple,” said the doctor slowly. “Things like this can happen after a great shock. There’s nothing physically wrong with Olivia and we just have to hope that in time, and with some good news about her father, she’ll try to walk again. It’s not that Olivia can’t walk. It’s that she’s decided she doesn’t want to walk.”

  “But she will eventually walk again? She won’t be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life?” asked Alicia, looking distressed. Livy was the last person she could imagine confined to a wheelchair. She was always such a physical person, never happier than when she was pushing herself and her body to the limits.

  “If there’s no physical reason why not, then of course it’s perfectly possible, indeed likely, that Olivia will walk again. But the mind is a funny thing. Clearly shock has played a part; hearing that her father is missing just as she was trying to take her first steps may have linked that trauma with walking in her mind. In the end, it’s up to Olivia. She’s got to want to walk, and she’s got to have a reason for doing it,” said the doctor. “I think it will happen, but I just can’t tell you when. It could be tomorrow. But you have to prepare yourselves for the fact that it could be years, and it might be never.”

  Alicia and Pablo stared at each other, horrified.

  “I take it that there’s no news of Jack Marvell?” asked the doctor gently.

  Pablo shook his head. “They’re still searching, but the plane has vanished.”

  Alicia shook her head sadly. “We’re running out of time and hope.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

&
nbsp; Katie had been subdued since hearing of Olivia’s accident. She was worried that if the note she had sent her was found, someone might make a connection between her and Olivia’s fall. Not that it was anything to do with her, of course; she couldn’t be held accountable if Olivia was stupid enough to go trapezing in the middle of the night.

  The accident, along with Jack’s disappearance, had become the talk of the theatre. Everyone felt really sorry for Eel. Katie had given up, temporarily at least, on her attempts to make the Swans’ lives a misery, and was trying to keep her head down. She just hoped that Tom and the others had too much else to worry about besides her; in any case, she had destroyed the phone with the text and the card, so there was no evidence. Nobody could prove a thing. She was safe.

  But today Katie was holding court in the girls’ dressing room. After the matinée, Katie’s dad and Chuck Daniels had walked into the dressing room without even knocking with armfuls of flowers for her. Eel and Georgia were still taking off their make-up. Mia had already been picked up by her mum, who was taking her out to tea before the evening performance.

  “You were fantastic, kitten; top-of-the-bill stuff,” boomed Katie’s dad, not even acknowledging Eel and Georgia. He and Chuck made it perfectly obvious that they wanted the dressing room to themselves.

  Georgia was in a hurry; she and Tom were going to the hospital. Pablo was waiting for them at the stage door. They were planning to bring Olivia back to the theatre to see the evening performance. Eel hoped they were successful. She wasn’t sure if Livy would come, but she hoped she would because they were arranging a big surprise for her.

  Even thinking of Livy made Eel’s eyes well up. Her sister lay in her hospital bed in silent misery, insisting that the blinds were kept drawn so that the room was dark and gloomy. Eel didn’t mind. She was happy just to sit, gently stroking the inside of Livy’s elbow with her finger. That morning, after they had sat in silence for almost an hour and Olivia had had her eyes closed for so long that Eel thought she’d fallen asleep, Olivia had suddenly said, “He’s not dead, Eel. Everyone thinks he’s dead. But if he was, I’d know it. Inside. He’s going to come back. I know he is.”

  Eel had looked up to see Alicia standing in the doorway, her shoulders heaving with silent sobs.

  Chuck’s loud voice jolted Eel out of her reverie. “We’ve got a big surprise for you, Katie,” he said. “Warner Huffington the Fourth, a big Hollywood casting agent I met once, is in town looking for new British talent. I didn’t know he was over, but I spotted him in the theatre this afternoon and told him that he really should meet you. I wouldn’t take no for an answer. He just had to make a few calls, then he’ll be on his way up.”

  “Kitten,” added Mr Wilkes-Cox, “Chuck says he’s casting a big Hollywood movie with Theo Deacon in the lead and is looking for a British teenager and a girl aged around eight. This is your big break, so I want you to shine like the little star you are. Put on your prettiest dress and your biggest smile. Hollywood here we come!”

  Eel and Georgia didn’t stick around to listen to any more; they both felt in danger of throwing up all over the dressing room. They ran downstairs to the stage door. Pablo was waiting with Tom, holding a battered suitcase in his hand which he handed to Eel.

  “I hope so much this works, Eel,” he said. “You have cleared it with Jon James?”

  Eel nodded. “He said he was delighted to do anything he could to help, and the stagehands did as well,” she said. “If anything is going to get Olivia out of that wheelchair, it will be this. I’m certain. Did you put the safety harnesses in?”

  Pablo nodded. “Two,” he said.

  “Good,” said Tom, “because after all this time, it might be me who needs one.”

  When Eel had finished organising everything with the stagehands, she went to get something from the dressing room. Katie, her dad and uncle were still in there. The American casting agent had obviously arrived. She could hear Katie gushing through the half-open door.

  “Of course, it can be quite hard working with so many much less experienced and talented children, but I do my very best to help them all out as much as I can.”

  “She does,” said Chuck. “Katie is obviously already a mature talent. I shouldn’t say anything, but I think there’s every chance that she’ll get to take over as Liesl at some point in the run. Although of course she’s got lots of other offers.”

  “I’m sure she has,” came the American voice. “Well, I’m sorry, I don’t want to appear rude, but I have to scoot. I have an urgent appointment. It’s been interesting meeting you.”

  “Don’t go yet,” said Mr Wilkes-Cox.

  “Afraid I must,” said the American.

  “I’ll give you my mobile number, Warner,” said Katie quickly. “Then you’ll be able to contact me directly if anything comes up that you think I might be suitable for. I hear you’re casting a Theo Deacon movie.”

  Eel couldn’t believe how pushy Katie was being. She wasn’t even in the room and she still felt embarrassed for her. Katie sounded almost desperate.

  Eel crept away. She wanted to go out on the roof but it was drizzling, so she walked a little way down the stairs and sat down. She had only been there a few minutes when a man with red hair and an open, freckled face that reminded her of Tom’s walked past. He turned back to smile at her, a dazzling, white-toothed grin, and passed on. But he had only gone a few steps when he turned back and sat down next to her.

  “You’re Eel Marvell, aren’t you?” he said in an American accent. Eel nodded, her chestnut curls bouncing.

  The man held out his hand. “I’m Warner Huffington the Fourth,” he said.

  Eel took his hand and laughed.

  “Don’t you like my name?” he asked, but he sounded very friendly.

  “It’s a very grand name,” said Eel, “but it sounds so silly.”

  “You’re right, it is. It’s completely preposterous, which is why my friends call me Huff.” The American paused and his eyes twinkled. “But, of course, you laughing at my name is like the pot calling the kettle black.”

  “Why?” asked Eel, interested.

  “Because Eel is the silliest name I’ve ever heard.” Eel began to look very indignant, but Huff continued, “Or at least it would be if it didn’t suit you so well. You can’t be more than eight but you’ve already grown into your name; I’m still waiting to grow into mine.”

  “I don’t think anyone could ever grow into being called Warner Huffington the Fourth,” said Eel. “At least, not until they were a hundred and two and very crinkly.”

  “You’re right. You’d better call me Huff, then, because I think we’re going to be friends.”

  “I think we are, too,” said Eel, “so you can call me Eel.”

  “That’s settled,” said Huff. They sat in silence for a moment, a nice companionable silence, and then Huff said, “I’m so sorry to hear about your dad, Eel. I met the Great Marvello once. He’s a great guy, a bit of a hero of mine. He’s a dad to be proud of, and I bet he’s proud of you, too.”

  Over the last few days, many people had expressed their sympathy to Eel about her father, almost all of them referring to him in the past tense as if he was definitely dead. Huff talked about Jack as if he thought that he was alive and might appear at any moment. Just like Livy.

  Eel liked Huff more and more, although she wasn’t sure it felt right to like somebody who was going to turn Katie Wilkes-Cox into a movie star. It was bad enough to see Katie smiling and simpering her way through The Sound of Music while Olivia was lying in a hospital bed unable to walk; it would be even worse to see her in a movie.

  “Are you going to cast Katie Wilkes-Cox in a film?” asked Eel.

  “I doubt it. I just got collared by her uncle who insisted I come and say hello to her; he wouldn’t take no for an answer. You mustn’t tell anyone yet, but I really came to take a look at Abbie Cardew. A colleague tipped me off that Abbie was exceptional and she was right. I think she’s awes
ome. I’m going to get her over to LA for a screen test.”

  “You should,” said Eel. “She’s lovely.”

  “And of course there’s somebody else I’m interested in.”

  “Who?” asked Eel.

  “You,” said Huff.

  Eel shook her head in surprise. “I don’t want to be in the movies. I want to learn to dance properly. I’ve enjoyed doing The Sound of Music, but my gran’s right – if I really want to be a great dancer I’ve got to practise and practise and not get distracted by other things.”

  “Then that’s what you should do,” said Huff. “I like a girl who knows her own mind.” He handed her his card. “But take this just in case. If I can ever do anything for you, just call. I’ll be happy to help Jack Marvell’s little girl.”

  There was the sound of footsteps behind them. They turned and looked upwards as Katie came into view. An expression of annoyance flitted across her face when she saw Huff with Eel, but she quickly rearranged her features into a smile.

  “It was lovely to meet you, Warner. I do hope you’ll be in touch very soon,” she said, and just before she turned the corner she craned her neck backwards to give him a dazzling smile.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Pablo and the taxi driver eased Olivia’s wheelchair out of the cab. The journey from the hospital to the Duke’s had been tense. Olivia hadn’t wanted to get up and go to the theatre, but Pablo had insisted, and when Tom had said that Eel would be really disappointed if Liv didn’t come to the performance tonight, Olivia had finally relented. But she had said very little and just looked morosely out of the window of the taxi.

  At one point they stopped at traffic lights right outside a Tube station where people were handing out copies of the evening newspaper. The headline read “All Hope Fades for Missing Stunt Ace”. There was a picture of a laughing Jack underneath. Georgia had tried to draw Olivia’s attention away to something else, but Olivia just made a sound as if somebody was sticking a pin into her heart with agonising slowness.