Part 21 (1/2)

'Thursday?' It was the day of the audition. 'Can you make it any other day?'

'Thursday would be best.'

I thought about it. I should be able to make it by one o'clock. If not she'd have to wait. But why meet at a railway station?

'King's Cross? Why there?' I asked.

'I'm meeting someone off a train at two. It's convenient.'

'All right, I'll try to be there.'

'It's to your advantage to be there, Louise. See you on Thursday, then.'

After the call, I sat there for a long time, my excitement about the audition temporarily forgotten as I wondered what she was about to tell me about myself. Could it be that I was a carrier for some horrible disease? Or was it just some devious trick? I decided not to think about it for the moment. Concentrating on the audition was my priority.

I arrived at the studio in good time and was dismayed to find about twelve other actresses waiting, not least of which was none other but Carla Dean. To my dismay she soon spotted me and came across.

'Fancy seeing you here, darling,' she said. 'I saw the article all about you in the Sunday Sphere. Anyone would think you were the only one to be cheated.' She sniffed. 'A very flattering photograph, I thought. When was that taken ten years ago?'

'It was taken by the paper's own photographer,' I told her.

'Then they must have airbrushed it,' she said. 'So how did you hear about this?'

'My new agent, Patrick Jason.'

Her finely plucked eyebrows rose. 'Jason, eh? Personally I was tipped off by a friend and it seemed like the sort of thing that would suit me down to the ground.' She smiled smugly. 'I know a couple of the production crew actually. Just between you and me the rest of you might as well go home now. I think it's pretty much a foregone conclusion.'

'Well, good luck, then.'

We were called in one by one. When it was my turn I pulled out all the stops, reading the test piece with Susan very much in mind. When everyone had auditioned, the production a.s.sistant came out and told us we'd be notified in a few days' time. Carla looked at me. 'Coming for a drink?'

I shook my head. 'No. I have another appointment,' I said. No way was I going to sit in some wine bar being bombarded with personal questions by Carla. We parted company in the street outside and she wandered off. I looked at my watch. It was a quarter to one. If I was going to make King's Cross on time I was going to have to hail a taxi.

I knew there was more than one cafe or coffee shop at King's Cross station and my 'mother' hadn't said which one, but I soon spotted her, sitting at one of the tables outside. She saw me and waved me over.

'You're late. I began to think you weren't coming.'

I hoisted myself onto the high stool opposite her. 'The traffic was bad.'

'Oh well, you're here now. Do you want to go and get a coffee?'

'No. I just want you to get to the point,' I said. 'What is this you need to tell me?'

She took a leisurely sip of her own coffee, looking at me speculatively over the rim of the mug. 'Do you remember the night I left?' she asked. 'Or were you too young at the time?'

'I remember it as though it was yesterday,' I told her. 'In fact, I've been having nightmares about it ever since.'

She snorted disbelievingly. 'Well now, aren't you the drama queen!'

'So it's something about the night you left,' I said. 'I thought you said it was about me.'

'It is.' She picked up her spoon and began to swirl what was left of her coffee. 'Did your dad ever tell you what we rowed about?'

'Of course not. Look ...' I was fast losing patience with her. 'Just get to the point. How does this concern me?'

She looked up at me with a hint of triumph in her eyes. 'Your dad and I rowed because I told him he wasn't your father.'

I stared at her. 'You what?'

'I told him the truth: that he wasn't the father of my child!'

It was as though a chill hand clutched my heart. 'I don't believe you.'

She smiled maddeningly. 'What do you want a DNA test? It's a bit late for that!'

My mouth dried. Suddenly I had trouble breathing. 'But he kept me brought me up. He was my dad and I loved him. If what you say is true, why didn't you take me with you?'

She shrugged. 'I was young. I wanted to be free.'

I winced. 'If Frank Davies wasn't my father, then who was?'

'Could be one of several,' she said casually. 'I was a good-time girl back then. I played the field, as they say.'

I felt sick. Getting down from my stool, I took one last look at the woman who had given birth to me. 'You b.i.t.c.h!' I said. 'I hope I never have to see you again.'

'Likewise, I'm sure,' she said with a laugh. 'You and your boasting about being the big wealthy star. You're nothing but a small-time extra if that!' As I walked away she called after me, 'You'll never amount to anything you're b.l.o.o.d.y useless just like that fool you called Dad!'

I made a beeline for the ladies' and locked myself in a cubicle where I was wretchedly sick. My heart was thumping and the tears ran unchecked down my cheeks. I came out of the cubicle feeling weak and stood shakily, clutching one of the wash-basins. A concerned-looking woman asked me if I was all right. I shook my head.

'I'll be fine in a minute,' I said 'It's a stomach upset something I ate.' I dashed some water on my face and hurriedly made my escape.

As luck would have it, Di was out all evening. One of her colleagues was having a hen night. I made myself a sandwich but it was like sawdust in my mouth and eventually I threw it in the bin and took myself off to bed. I heard Di come in around midnight but she was quiet and I didn't call out to her. I fell at last into a fitful sleep but the dream seemed to begin almost at once. A crowd of people were laughing derisively at me and in the centre of them was my mother, her face a mask of hate as she pointed and jeered. When I looked down I held a baby in my arms. In deep shock, I threw the baby from me and heard it scream as it fell. The screams and the scornful laughter grew louder and louder until they became unbearable. I put my hands over my ears and I heard myself shouting, 'Stop it! Stop it!'

'Lou Lou! Wake up!'

I opened my eyes to see Di's concerned face looking down at me. Still shaking, I hoisted myself into a sitting position, my heart thudding. 'Was was I talking in my sleep?'

'Shouting more like,' she said. 'It must have been a horrible dream. Do you want to tell me about it?'

Suddenly everything crowded in on me. I was overwhelmed by a terrible feeling of grief and I burst into tears. Di put her arms round me and held me close.

'What is it? I've never seen you cry before.'

'I I had some bad news,' I stammered, swallowing hard.

'What was it, Lou the audition?'