Rosemary sat silent, one hand up to her mouth.

  After a moment Carrie went on again: ‘Yes, and then when we met up again, in New York, just after you’d got back from Cape Cod, we went and had coffee together. Remember? And you offered me a job.’

  Rosemary bowed her head, briefly closed her eyes.

  ‘Why did you do that?’ Carrie asked. ‘Was it because you felt sorry for me? Sorry, and maybe a little guilty for what you’d done? And after all it hadn’t been necessary, had it? I mean, in spite of all your underhand dealings, the show bombed.’ She gave a nod. ‘Yes – meeting me in Manhattan that day, you felt sorry for me, didn’t you? I mean, there I was – I’d lost everything that was important to me. Not only had I lost my part in Save a Place, but I’d lost my mother too – and I didn’t even get to see her before she died. And, also, I told you I’d been dumped by Michael.’

  Rosemary, sitting hunched in the seat, kept silent, her eyes lowered.

  ‘You know,’ Carrie said, ‘Save a Place was going to be my big chance. You can’t imagine how hard I worked for it, or how hard I rehearsed once I knew the part was mine. I loved the part, and I loved the songs. And I would have been good. But that was the trouble. Like I said – I was too good. Dear, sweet Rosemary Paul. Oh, you fixed my wagon all right. I’ll say. After I quit I just never – never got my bearings again somehow. It was all spoiled. I had no self-confidence any more. And it was you who did it. You.’ She leaned over, her face close to Rosemary’s, the tears starting in her eyes again. ‘How could you do it, Rosie? How? I’d never done anything to you.’ With a deep sigh she leaned back in her seat. ‘And how I’ve worked for you since that time,’ she said. ‘Never ever dreaming what you’d done to me.’

  Silence in the car, and then Rosemary raised her head. ‘Carrie,’ she said, looking imploringly at her, ‘I know what happened. I don’t deny it. I can’t. But I didn’t know you then. Maybe you can’t see that as an excuse for me – but I couldn’t have done it if I had known you. It wasn’t you I was dealing with. You were just some girl, some actress, who was in my way. Yes – and I had to do something about it. I had so much hanging on that show.’ She nodded. ‘And you’re right, you were too good. My God, you were brilliant. I could see it very quickly. It wasn’t long before I was having second thoughts about the show, wondering what I’d got myself into. All that second-rate material. But you – you took those – those mediocre songs and made them live. I watched it happen. And – I couldn’t take the chance of being eclipsed.’

  ‘So, you admit it all,’ Carrie said.

  ‘Yes, but – oh, Carrie, I was sure you’d soon get over it. With all your talent it would be only a matter of time. After all, it was only that one job in your career, and you were young and starting out. I wasn’t. I’d already had one career that had nosedived, and it’s never easy to get back on top once you’ve been down. It was only later I really realised how dreadfully I’d behaved, and the harm I’d caused you.’

  With tears springing into her eyes she reached out, but Carrie moved back, avoiding the contact. Rosemary’s hands fell back into her lap. ‘Believe me,’ she said, ‘if I could undo it, I would. But I can’t.’ She paused. ‘Carrie, you’ve come to mean so much to me over the years. And you must know that that’s true. Oh, we’ve had our ups and downs, but that’s natural. I am aware of all you’ve done for me and all –’

  ‘Yes,’ Carrie broke in, ‘and everything I’ve put up with.’

  A moment of silence, then Rosemary said, ‘You’re all I’ve got now, Carrie. I’ve got no one else. I have no family. I have only you. Darling, listen – what’s happened is in the past. I can’t undo it. I can only ask you to – forgive me, and let me make it up to you. Please. Forgive me, Carrie. Don’t hate me, please.’

  Carrie looked at her with dry eyes. ‘Everybody wants to be forgiven.’ She glanced down at the letter in her hand, carefully folded it and then placed it in the glove compartment.

  ‘Let’s go inside,’ she said. ‘I’m getting cold sitting here, and I’d like that cup of coffee.’

  She got out of the car, stood waiting until Rosemary had emerged, then locked the doors.

  ‘I will make it up to you,’ Rosemary said, pulling up the collar of her coat. ‘If you give me a chance.’

  ‘Let’s go inside,’ Carrie said. With her words she turned and started away.

  *

  The place was almost empty – the only other customers a man and woman sitting in a corner. Carrie led the way to a table beside a window. Rosemary took a seat facing her. ‘I’m just having coffee,’ Carrie said. ‘I don’t know what you want.’

  Rosemary picked up the menu. ‘Coffee is fine.’ Glancing down the list she added tentatively, ‘I see they’ve got chocolate mousse – one of your favourites.’

  Carrie responded with a cold glance. A young waitress came over and Carrie gave their order. When the girl had gone, Rosemary said, ‘I was thinking – when my show is over we don’t need to rush back home, do we?’

  ‘Don’t we?’ Carrie gave a measured shake of her head. ‘You’re unbelievable, you are. Just listen to you. You’re going on as if nothing’s been said, as if nothing’s happened.’

  ‘No, no,’ Rosemary said quickly. ‘It’s not like that at all.’

  ‘Then what are you talking about?’

  ‘I – I was just thinking – well, it’s your birthday soon, come April, and –’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘Well, I thought – I thought maybe we could go away some place.’

  ‘We’re already away some place. We’ve come to England.’

  ‘Oh, I know, but – well, this isn’t really a vacation, is it? I thought – while we’re here in Europe we should take advantage of it. Perhaps take a trip to Paris, or Rome. Just for a week or so. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

  Carrie shrugged. ‘Who wouldn’t?’

  Rosemary forced a smile. ‘Shall we, then?’ She paused. ‘Where shall it be? Where would you like to go?’

  Carrie didn’t answer, but turned her head and gazed through the window at the cold landscape.

  ‘Shall we?’ Rosemary said. ‘Shall we go off some place?’

  ‘Sorry,’ Carrie said, turning back to her, ‘I was thinking about something else. You want to know what I was thinking about? I was thinking about my birthday.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘I shall be forty-six. I was just working it out.’

  ‘Working it out? What do you mean?’

  ‘The time.’

  ‘The time?’

  ‘Like I said, I shall be forty-six. And you know how old I was when we met? I was twenty-three. Work it out. I’ve been with you half my life.’

  ‘My God, yes,’ Rosemary said, ‘that’s true.’

  ‘Half my life,’ Carrie said. ‘Twenty-three years.’ She eyed Rosemary levelly. ‘You took away half my life.’

  ‘Oh, Carrie –’ Rosemary looked pleadingly across the table. ‘Please – don’t say such things.’

  ‘And there’s nothing you can do about that,’ Carrie said. ‘You can’t make up for twenty-three years with a chocolate mousse and a week in Paris.’

  ‘Carrie, please don’t talk like this. Haven’t these years been good years? They have. They haven’t been wasted.’

  Carrie gave an exaggerated shrug. ‘They’ve been okay, I guess, for somebody who’s happy to settle for a humdrum existence. They’ve been okay if you don’t mind being an appendage to somebody else’s life.’

  ‘Don’t. Oh, don’t say that.’

  ‘It’s true. I could have led my own life. Instead, I’ve been doing what you wanted, behaving the way you wanted me to behave.’

  ‘Oh, but – but things will be different from now on, I promise you.’

  ‘If it hadn’t been for you,’ Carrie said, ‘I’d be a successful actress. Maybe happily married. Have children.’

  Silence fell between them. Several more customers came in and took seats at tables and at the bar. The waitress came and placed before Rosemary and Carrie a small tray bearing cups of coffee.

  When the waitress had gone, Rosemary took a sip from her cup then said hesitantly: ‘You didn’t say – whether you’d like to go away somewhere.’

  ‘You really are astonishing,’ Carrie said. ‘You’re still going on as if nothing has happened. As if you haven’t heard a word I’ve said.’

  ‘Oh, of course I have.’ Rosemary looked distraught, near to tears again. ‘I know I’m clumsy, but I’m just – just trying to – to put things right. To make things better.’ She shook her head. ‘I want to do something to please you. I just thought that a little trip would make a change – a pleasant little change.’

  ‘A pleasant little change?’ Carrie said. ‘Wow, that’s rich. But I wouldn’t worry about that. I think you’ll find there’s going to be a whole heap of changes made. But I don’t know about them being exactly pleasant.’ She picked up her cup, took a sip and with a grimace set it back down. ‘I can’t drink this stuff.’ The bill was on the tray, and glancing down at it she took a note from her purse and put it on the tray. Rosemary, pushing her coffee cup aside, picked up her gloves and bag. At once Carrie held out a restraining hand. ‘Stay where you are for a minute.

  ‘Oh, I thought you wanted to go.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll be going.’

  Rosemary looked at her watch. ‘Well, if we’re going to London we –’

  ‘Stay where you are,’ Carrie repeated. Then she added coolly, ‘We’re not going to London.’

  Rosemary stared at her, as if trying to read the expression in the cold eyes. ‘What do you mean? You want to leave it till tomorrow? I don’t mind.’

  ‘You’re not going to London today,’ Carrie said. ‘And you’re not going to London tomorrow either. You’re not going to London – period.’

  ‘Huh?’ Rosemary looked at her in bewilderment. ‘Carrie, what are you talking about? Come on now. Don’t you think this has gone far enough?’

  ‘Yes, it has.’ Carrie gave a wide, humourless smile. ‘You are so right.’ She opened her purse again and brought out the car keys, then, closing the bag’s clasp with a snap, she got to her feet. ‘Okay, now I’m ready. Let’s go.’

  Rosemary remained in her seat, looking up at her, bewilderment in her face.

  ‘Well?’ Carrie said, ‘are you coming?’

  ‘Yes…’ Rosemary got up and followed as Carrie, with firm, regular steps, started out from the room.

  ……NINETEEN

  Reaching the car, Carrie tossed her coat onto the back seat and got in behind the steering wheel. A moment later Rosemary climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door.

  ‘Where are we going, if we’re not going on to London?’ Rosemary said. ‘You want to go back to the cottage?’ She had never known Carrie like this ever before, had never imagined this other side of her. ‘I thought you said there was so much to do – there was no time to waste.’

  ‘Yes, I did say that,’ Carrie said. ‘But things are not the same now.’ She made no move to start the car, but sat still, hands on the steering wheel.

  ‘But the photographer, the publicity,’ Rosemary said. ‘If I’m to get started – I mean…’

  ‘There won’t be any photographer, Rosemary,’ Carrie said. ‘At least, not for the reasons you think.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘And to answer your other question – we’re not going back to the cottage. Your show isn’t any further concern of mine.’ Carrie looked at her steadily for a moment, then said, ‘I’ve been thinking about all those years you took from me, Rosie, and you’re going to have to pay. For every one of them.’

  ‘Pay?’ There was a note of fear in Rosemary’s voice.

  ‘Yes.’ A pause. ‘I’m going to turn you in.’

  ‘What?’ Rosemary gasped. ‘Carrie – what are you saying?’

  ‘Oh, I think you know very well what I’m saying.’ Carrie spoke slowly, evenly. ‘You want publicity? Well, believe me, you’re gonna get it. I’m going to turn you over to the police. I’m gonna tell them what you did. Where Kurt’s body is. The newspapers are gonna have a field day.’ She watched as a horrified incredulity leapt into Rosemary’s eyes.

  ‘Carrie,’ Rosemary said, ‘is this – is this some kind of joke?’

  ‘Joke?’ Carrie said. ‘You think it sounds like a joke?’ She shook her head. ‘Joke, she says. No, Rosie, it’s no joke. There was a joke – for years. And the joke was on me. But no more.’

  ‘Carrie,’ Rosemary said, her voice breaking, ‘you don’t mean this.’

  ‘I don’t? You’ll see. Just let me find the nearest police station.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yes. And I’ll tell them what happened – and they’ll come out to the cottage. I’ll tell them what you did.’ She nodded. ‘Oh, yes, and there’s a cassette tape there too – recording it all – a witness to everything.’

  ‘Carrie, stop!’ Rosemary cried, her voice shrill. ‘Stop it – now! It’s gone far enough. For God’s sake, this is insane!’ She reached out to Carrie, desperate in her terror, but Carrie, contemptuously shaking off the clutching hands, turned on the ignition and gunned the motor. The next moment the car was lurching forward.

  ‘Stop!’ Rosemary cried out again, the tears spilling down her cheeks. ‘You can’t do this! Carrie, you can’t. Whatever I’ve done to you this is too much! It’s too much! Please, stop the car. Let me out.’

  Ignoring Rosemary’s pleas, Carrie swung the car in a wide arc, and drove out of the car park. As the car moved onto the top of the steep hill Rosemary reached out, clawing at Carrie’s hands as they gripped the wheel.

  ‘Stop it, you idiot!’ Carrie cried, fighting to retain her grasp. ‘You want to get us off the road!’

  But Rosemary didn’t stop, and Carrie cried out in pain and protest as Rosemary’s sharp nails dug into her soft flesh. Half turning, Carrie swung and struck out, her fist catching Rosemary in the face.

  For a split second Rosemary’s head spun, and then with a scream she launched herself at Carrie. While one furious, desperate hand raked Carrie’s cheek, the other gripped tightly in her hair. Savagely she wrenched, and Carrie shrieked in pain, letting go her hold on the steering wheel to fight off the clutching hands. Next moment the car swerved violently across the narrow way, its offside wheels thudding against the high, hard earth verge before it jolted back onto the track. As it plunged on down the hill, the landscape flashing by in a blur of trees and hedgerow, the two women fought, struggling furiously. The pain in Carrie’s head was excruciating and she writhed and screamed, but Rosemary’s hands would not let up. Relentless, Rosemary pulled and tore as if she would rip Carrie’s scalp from her head. ‘You bitch!’ she cried through clenched teeth, ‘I won’t let you destroy me. I’ve come this far. I won’t let you stop me now.’

  All at once, through the agony of Rosemary’s clutching hands, Carrie glimpsed the grey expanse of the highway looming before them, and she tried to snatch at the wheel. It was too late. Out of control, the car hurtled from the hill, bending aside the stop sign at the corner and plunged headlong onto the main road. Missing an oncoming van by inches, it flung itself across the tarmac and ploughed half-way up the opposite bank to collide, broadside on, with a large oak. As the sound of the smash reverberated over the hillside the car’s doors, forced to give under the impact, burst open. Carrie, thrown from the wreck, was flung into the air like some savagely discarded doll. With a dull thud she struck the outflung limb of a tree, hung there for a second, and then fell to the ground.

  The car, continuing its progress, turned a somersault on the top of the high bank, in the process throwing Rosemary spinning and flailing out onto the grass. For a moment the vehicle seemed to rest, hovering, until, with a groaning of metal, it tipped back and crashed down onto the highway. Following the sound of the impact there was a second of silence, as if the whole scene was gathering breath, and then, with a loud explosion, the mangled wreck burst into flame.

  Up on the bank, Rosemary lay still. Dully she took in the unusual angle of her left arm as it lay thrown forward on the grass. ‘I’ve broken my arm,’ she said to herself. ‘I’ve broken my arm…’ There was a throbbing in her ears, and she became aware of the warm stickiness of blood that covered her face and stuck her torn clothes to her body. Moving her head slightly, she saw the motionless figure of Carrie lying some two or three yards away, on the very edge of the bank. Opening her mouth, she tried to frame Carrie’s name. But no sound came through the blood and the broken teeth.

  On the bank, Carrie moved and quietly cried out. Her own fog was drifting, clearing as consciousness returned. Searing pains stabbed at her body, and a low moan escaped her gaping mouth. Fighting the agony, she clutched at the grass, but her fingers would not obey her brain’s feeble command. Turning her head, she found herself looking directly into Rosemary’s face, and for a moment it seemed to her that it was all part of a dream, and that reality must soon return. Then memory came back, forcing its way through the mist of her discomfort.