It took all Cameron’s pleading to stop him going straight round to Hamilton Terrace or even to The Falconry to beat Tony to a pulp.
‘Think of the adverse publicity. It’ll only trivialize Venturer’s bid.’
‘Nothing trivial about those bruises,’ said Rupert, touching her swollen lip with his finger. ‘How did he rumble us?’
‘Saw the video of Valerie’s opening and Beaver’s crash-landing in the gladioli. And somehow he found out I was at the Venturer meeting yesterday.’
Very, very gently Rupert was stroking her cheek. Despite the pain in almost every part of her body, she had never felt safer or closer to him.
‘Hell knows no fury like a womanizer scorned,’ he said lightly. ‘Well, he had to know some time. You’d better move in here.’
Cameron utterly despised women who cried in front of men. It was taking an unfair advantage and outraged her feminist principles. But once the tears started spilling out of her bruised eyes, she found she couldn’t stop them.
‘Is it such a ghastly thought?’ said Rupert, taking her in his arms.
‘No, no it’s the nicest thought in the world. I guess I don’t want to railroad you.’
‘You’re not. You’ve no idea how I hated letting you go back every time, particularly to Tony. I’m sick of never seeing you. Don’t worry about your brilliant career. I’ll look after you. And tomorrow, as a symbol of your new dependence, I’m going to chuck that beastly briefcase into the lake.’
Cameron managed a weak smile. ‘You had better take the papers out first, or Tony’ll be dropping by, using the truth drug on your duck.’
She was drowsy with dope now, so he laid her back on the pillow.
‘I’ll try not to get under your feet,’ she muttered. ‘I d-do love you — so so much.’
‘I know you do.’ Rupert got to his feet. ‘Now go to sleep.’
‘Please don’t go.’ She was suddenly frantic. ‘You will sleep here, won’t you?’
‘’Course I will. I’ll be back in a minute. I’m just going to take the dogs out.’
Wandering mindlessly through the garden, Rupert found himself on the edge of the lake, breathing in the soapy smell of the meadowsweet, listening to the frogs croaking. There were no stars, and, glancing across the valley, he saw Taggie’s turret was in darkness.
35
Valerie Jones was absolutely furious when nothing about her Opening appeared on ‘Cotswold Round-Up’, but not nearly as angry as Declan when Rupert told him what had happened.
‘What the fock were you doing taking a dog you can’t control to Valerie’s opening?’
‘I control my dogs a bloody sight better than you.’
‘We’re not talking about me. Think of the adverse publicity.’
‘There won’t be any. I refrained from beating Tony to a pulp.’
Declan sighed. ‘And how the hell is Tony going to explain the overnight loss of his mistress and Programme Controller to his staff? Someone’s going to leak the story. Pirated tapes of Beaver’s flatfoot through the gladioli are no doubt circulating the network already, and it won’t be long before they reach the press and the IBA.’
‘It was terribly funny. I wish you’d seen Valerie’s face.’
‘It’s not funny,’ thundered Declan. ‘I suppose you’re used to having your character blackened but it won’t do Venturer any good. The IBA don’t like this kind of thing.’
He couldn’t understand how Rupert could be so unrattled by such a catastrophe. He supposed he’d always lived in the eye of the storm.
‘I don’t know who comes out worse,’ Declan went on, ‘you setting out coldly and deliberately to seduce Cameron so we had a mole on our side, or Tony who beat her up. A lot of people will feel Tony was justified. He was only acting in the heat of the moment.’
‘Oh, come off it,’ snapped Rupert. ‘Talk about making mountains out of moles. The story we leak is that Cameron and I were attracted to each other when we met, when you interviewed me in February. We resisted it because we were on opposing sides for as long as we could, but now she’s moved in with me and Venturer has the best Head of Drama in the country. Christ, we’re both free agents. It’s Tony who’s the adulterer and the mistress-basher. He won’t want to make a big thing of it because of Monica and the IBA.’
A story was duly leaked and appeared in the Mail the next day that Cameron Cook had changed sides, moved in with Rupert and that Tony was devastated to lose his star producer. No reference was made to Cameron being Tony’s mistress, or of her being beaten up by him.
Rumour, however, was rife and by Wednesday Corinium had leaked a counter-story accusing Venturer of poaching and cold-blooded enticement, and putting the blame firmly on Rupert.
‘A lonely, single woman nearing thirty, worried about missing the marital boat, is in a particularly vulnerable position,’ Tony was quoted as saying.
Rupert was furious. ‘All we have to do is give a photograph of Cameron’s bruises to the press.’
‘Don’t be so bloody stupid,’ said Declan crushingly. ‘You’ve no proof Tony did it and not you. It isn’t as though you’ve exactly got a blameless reputation when it comes to beating up.’
Tony, once he had cooled down, was absolutely shattered by Cameron’s defection. He’d had no idea how much both he and Corinium had come to depend on her, both as an inspiration and a sparring partner.
Discovering through his spies that Rupert would be in London opening a new sports stadium on Thursday, Tony drove over to Penscombe to see her. Surrounded by Rupert’s pack of dogs, with Mrs Bodkin in the kitchen and Mr Bodkin strimming the long grass round the lake, Cameron felt safe to let him in. Dressed in an orange bikini, she still looked as though she’d just done fifteen rounds with Barry McGuigan.
Tony followed her out to the pool, which sparkled brilliant turquoise in the sunshine and was no longer filled with leaves. It killed him to see her in this beautiful opulent setting, stretched out oiled on one of Rupert’s reclining chairs, guarded by Rupert’s lurcher Blue, who lay by her feet panting, but growling every time Tony approached.
Immediately Tony begged her to come back, telling her for the first time how much he loved her and, when that had no effect, offering to leave Monica and marry her. He didn’t even lose his temper when she told him to bugger off.
‘Your job’s open for you to come back whenever you want it, and here are the keys to Hamilton Terrace.’ He threw them on to the table. ‘The house may belong to Corinium, but it’s still yours when you need it. Come and get your clothes whenever you want to. I shouldn’t have beaten you up, but I love you and I just saw red.’
‘Just like you did the last time I came home late after spending the day with Patrick,’ said Cameron. ‘Get out.’
Tony, predictably, couldn’t remain nice for long. ‘You know it’s only a matter of time until Rupert ditches you,’ was his parting shot. ‘Five days, five weeks; he may even keep you five months until Venturer finally don’t get the franchise; then he’ll kick you out like all the rest and you’ll come running back to me.’
Cameron didn’t believe Tony would leave Monica, particularly during the franchise year, but at least it now meant she could pick up her clothes, her books, and, much more important, her tapes and prizes from Hamilton Terrace. She also felt privately that it was nice to have Tony as a bolthole in case Rupert started playing her up.
Rupert, in fact, couldn’t have been more angelic those first few days, fussing over her, seeing she didn’t get too tired, ensuring Mrs Bodkin made her delicious food (which Cameron privately thought contained far too much seasoning and fats), making love to her with surprising gentleness and subtlety, so he didn’t crush her bruised ribs or her battered face.