All along I have known, I belong here with you,

  So if you’ll only tell me that you need me too,

  Then at last, I shall know, only then shall I know,

  Only then shall I know, I’ve come home.

  The last notes of the orchestra echoed and died away. There was a beat – one, two, three – and then, as one man, the audience went wild.

  It was as if the cheering would never stop. Visibly affected, tears shining in many eyes, they clapped, whistled and roared. All of them – the elderly couples who had come to relive old memories; the younger ones who were curious to find out for themselves; those who lived vicariously through the dreams and dramas of larger, star-studded careers; the sceptical reporters sent to cover the show; and even the few brittle-hearted cynics who had come hoping for a laugh – all were caught in the aura of her magic, and the spell she wove.

  And there she stood, apart but at the centre of it all, a slim figure in dusky pink velvet.

  ‘Thank you. Oh, thank you so much.’ And with her spoken words they heard again the familiar tones, sounding a little older now, but nevertheless the voice they knew. More calls came to her from different points in the auditorium, and as there came a new burst of applause she raised a hand in a momentary plea for silence. ‘Please – oh, please,’ she said with a trembling smile, ‘you’re making me ruin my make-up, and that’s something I can’t afford.’

  This allusion to the injuries she had suffered brought a fresh burst of applause. It was as if she could do nothing wrong.

  Over the next fifty minutes she went through the carefully planned programme. Interspersed with brief comments and the occasional little joke, she sang her songs, giving the adoring audience exactly what they wanted. She caressed them with the wistful ‘Kiss it Better’, ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ and ‘In a Little Secondhand Store’, and on a lighter note with ‘Not for All the Rice in China’. Raising the temperature a little there came upbeat renditions of ‘Never Quite Enough’ and ‘Sunny Tuesday’. There too were classic evergreens from the Gershwins, Porter, Kern. And then, finally, came the second song that Kurt had written – had written for this very moment. It followed the Rodgers and Hart classic ‘Falling in Love With Love’, her mellow voice soft against flutes and a frenetic drum beat. With the song’s last word she stood, arms outstretched, holding the final note with a power, security and purity of tone that she herself had not thought possible, then let her arms fall gently to her sides as the drums came to a halt and the echo of the flutes and the brass died away.

  Timing the moment, she waited till the applause had reached its peak, then lifted her hands a little before her, palms open. A solitary saxophone came in, playing the opening notes of the melody. And then her voice, intentionally a little tentative, a little wondering:

  If you ask who am I, take a look and you’ll see,

  See a lifetime of living, of winning and losing and trying,

  And the total is me.

  And I cried with the flops, and I laughed with the breaks.

  And I somehow got by with the fears and the tears and mistakes.

  And you ask, who am I, why I stand here alone.

  I soon learned, if there’s something you want

  You must go out and get it – do it all on your own.

  And I aimed for the best. I could show you the scars.

  I just hoped I might get me the moon if I reached for the stars.

  When a dream went all wrong I just tore it apart,

  I took every doubt, turned it clear inside out,

  And made a new start.

  And you ask, who am I. Well, I learned to survive.

  I played all the hunches, I rolled with the punches,

  And I knew I was really alive.

  So what more can I say, if you turn right away

  And tell them I don’t give a damn.

  Do what you must do, but please grant me it’s true

  At least I know who I am.

  The audience, as one, were spellbound. She stood there as the orchestra took up the melody and, building in power and intensity, played the bars leading to the final verses of the refrain. Hands outstretched to the sea of her adoring admirers, she took up the song again:

  Sure you’re gonna be hurt if you’re not made of wood.

  When faced with a test I did what I thought best,

  The best way I could.

  And if I live this life to a hundred and ten,

  And the powers that give it say, ‘Take it and live it,’

  I’ll live it, all over again.

  And I’ll grab every chance, and I’ll lead them a dance.

  And get me my share of the jam.

  But whatever comes true, all the rage or all through,

  At least I’ll know who I am.

  The song ended, and she stood there, arms outstretched, while the audience rose to its feet, threatening to deafen her with its rapturous applause. Then, arms lowered to her sides again, she remained quite still, her head a little bowed, bathed in the spotlight and the love that poured over her. And the thought went through her head that everything had been worth it – everything – just for this, for these moments. Everything else was behind her now. Nothing of it mattered. Nothing. And this was only the beginning. The past was far away; nothing of it could hurt her now. Goodbye, Kurt Hellman. Goodbye and thank you. Goodbye, Carrie. Poor, poor, sad Carrie Markham – it was you who made it all possible. Thank you, Carrie. Thank you and goodbye.

  …..TWENTY-SIX

  After the curtain calls, after the champagne in her dressing room, after the breathless change into her other gown, she was escorted, amid cheers, by Adrian Marlow to a waiting Rolls Royce. Turning, she waved to the ecstatic throng, climbed into the car and was driven away.

  Douglas was there in the crowd, watching as she bathed in the glory of the moment, while the people clapped and the photographers shot their pictures.

  With the star of the show gone, the press and the admirers melted away. Douglas, too, was about to turn and go when the stage door opened again and he saw the familiar figure of Ray Kesterson appear. At once he moved to him.

  ‘Hey, Ray!’

  Ray turned and saw him, his face lighting up. ‘Douglas! Douglas Rosti!’

  ‘The same.’

  ‘Hey, Dougie.’

  Smiling, the men shook hands.

  ‘You just saw the show?’ Ray asked.

  ‘Oh, you bet,’ Douglas replied. ‘And congratulations. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’

  Ray thanked him. It had been quite a night for everyone, he said. ‘Did you,’ he asked, ‘know Rosemary back in the States?’

  ‘I did indeed,’ Douglas said. ‘We go back a little while. I knew her well.’

  ‘Hey, that’s great. And what a performance, eh?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Douglas nodded. ‘What a performance.’

  ‘I think she took just about everyone by surprise.’

  Douglas nodded. ‘Me for one, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Did you get a chance to see her after the show?’

  ‘No – sorry to say I didn’t.’

  A moment, then Ray said, ‘You have anything planned right now? The rest of the evening, I mean.’

  ‘No, nothing. Why?’

  ‘Well, come along with us. We’re meeting up at the producer’s place. For drinks and stuff. You’ll be able to tell Rosemary how much you liked the show.’

  *

  ‘Here we go, Rosemary. Now you’ll get a chance to relax a bit – and meet a few of your admirers close up.’

  Adrian spoke the words as they entered the hall of his penthouse apartment overlooking Sloane Square. As the two of them entered the sitting room a minute later the assembled guests rose to their feet and burst into applause. There they were, the boys in the band, some of the backers, some of the backstage staff, and Adrian’s many friends and colleagues. Crowding around her, they offered their congratulations while she thanked them and basked in the adulation. After a few minutes Adrian left her side and reappeared with drinks for them both, then, smiling, he led her away from the clamour. ‘Come on outside for a minute now.’ he said. ‘We can’t talk here. Let’s get some air, and a bit of peace and quiet. I should think you’ve earned a break.’

  Leaving his guests to be served by the maid and the bartender, he led the way through a rear hallway and out onto the terrace. There, beside the parapet looking over the square, he raised his glass.

  ‘Well, here’s to you, Rosemary,’ he said, smiling. ‘The lady done good tonight, and no mistake.’

  ‘Thank you, so much,’ she said, ‘– and for believing in me.’

  The sounds of the traffic drifted up on the night air, while a gentle breeze touched at the silk stole around her shoulders.

  ‘Are you warm enough?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you.’

  He reached out, touched the soft silk. ‘That’s a very pretty thing – your stole.’

  ‘Thank you. I think so too.’ She brushed at its smooth folds. ‘My lucky wrap, I call it,’ she said.

  ‘Your lucky wrap?’

  ‘Yes, it’s always brought me luck. I got it way, way back, for a special event when I was singing with the band.’ She gestured off into the city. ‘At the Palladium here.

  ‘And I bet you put the Palladium in your pocket.’

  ‘I wish,’ she said with a laugh, ‘– but the band was the star, not me. I was just the vocalist.’

  ‘Oh, no, you were never just the vocalist,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you something – you certainly put London in your pocket tonight.’

  ‘Did I do that?’ She smiled broadly. ‘Well, that can’t be bad, can it?’

  ‘It can’t be bad at all. And you did it all by yourself.’

  She gazed at him for a moment, then said, ‘No, Adrian, I didn’t do it all by myself.’

  He gave a little nod. ‘Ah, right – I guess you mean your – your friend, Carrie – yes?’

  ‘Yes.’ She sighed. ‘None of this could have happened without her.’ She turned, looking out over the city.

  He observed her for a moment, then said, ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘What? Oh.’ She hung her head. ‘I was just thinking of her – Carrie.’

  ‘Have you had any further word – as to how she is?’

  A little pause, then: ‘Yes. I heard earlier this evening. Just before I went on. I called the hospital.’

  ‘And?’

  Looking down at her hands she said, her voice husky, ‘It – it’s over.’

  He leaned forward a little. ‘You mean…’

  ‘Yes. She – she’s gone. Carrie’s gone. It – it happened just this afternoon, they told me.’

  He reached out and took her hand, gently pressed it. ‘Oh, Rosemary, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.’ He could see in her eyes the shine of tears. ‘I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. And you only learned about it tonight – just before you went on?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes.’

  He shook his head in wonder. ‘And after getting that news – you went out there and did that. You put on that stunning show. You gave that terrific – absolutely terrific performance. Well, all I can say is that you’re an amazing woman. When I think of you, in front of that audience – after all you’ve been through – standing up there alone.’ He paused, then added with a faint smile, ‘But – but maybe you weren’t so alone there after all.’

  ‘You mean – Carrie?’

  He nodded. ‘Maybe she’s been with you. There with you tonight.’

  ‘Yes.’ And now she smiled. ‘I – I’d like to think so.’

  ‘And she’d be so glad for you – seeing your wonderful success.’

  ‘Yes. I – I couldn’t have done it without her.’

  He nodded his understanding. ‘But try not to be too sad,’ he said. ‘You owe it to her to enjoy your success – this great triumph.’

  ‘Yes.’ With a little catch of her breath she added, ‘Oh, Adrian – I have to tell you that it’s better than I ever dreamed it could be. I – I couldn’t bear it if everything should come to an end.’

  ‘Come to an end?’ he said. ‘Good heavens – why should it? It’s all yours from now on. This is just the beginning.’

  ‘Just the beginning.’ She savoured the words, smiling. ‘You promise?’

  ‘I promise.’

  He took a drink from his glass, then said, ‘Hey, I think I’d better get back to my guests – make sure everyone’s getting fed and watered.’

  She smiled at him. ‘You go on in. I’ll join you in a minute. I just want to stay out here a little longer. It’s nice to have the quiet.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll see you in a minute.’ He patted her hand where it lay on the rail, and turned away.

  *

  Back inside, Adrian went into the dining room where the maids were just putting the finishing touches to a lavish buffet supper. He checked that everything looked right, then moved to the sitting room. As he entered he saw Ray Kesterson coming from the hall. He had a stranger with him.

  ‘Ray,’ Adrian said, ‘I was wondering where you were. Come on and let’s find you a drink. And something for your friend as well.’

  ‘Adrian,’ Ray said, ‘this is Douglas – Douglas Rosti – from New York.’ With the introductions the two men shook hands. ‘Douglas is an old friend of Rosemary’s,’ Ray added. ‘I was sure you wouldn’t mind if I brought him along.’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ Adrian said. ‘The more the merrier.’ Then to Douglas: ‘You’re very welcome, Douglas. Take off your coat and get yourself a drink. Rosemary’s out on the terrace – getting a little air. Go say hello to her.’

  ‘Thanks very much, I will,’ Douglas said. He slipped off his coat and handed it to the maid.

  Adrian said, pointing off: ‘Go on through the hall there. Rosemary’ll be thrilled to see an old friend.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Douglas said. ‘If you’ll excuse me…’ Stepping away from the two men he started across the room and into the hall. At the door to the terrace he came to a halt and looked out through the glass. He could see her there, the familiar figure, beside the parapet.

  *

  Standing alone at the rail, she took another sip from her glass and gazed out over the busy square below. The night was growing cooler, but she didn’t care. For the moment she was reluctant to return to the crowd and the babble. There would be time enough. Distantly, from inside, behind her, she could hear a piano being played, a burst of laughter. Then came a sudden, brief swell of noise as the terrace door opened and closed again. She heard the sound of footfalls on the tiled floor, and then a voice.

  ‘Hello.’

  Turning, she saw a man standing there. And as recognition came she reeled, clutching at the rail, while the glass she was holding slipped from her fingers and shattered on the tiles. The wind was suddenly chill against her face, while the perspiration broke out, dampening her palms. When he spoke again, his words seemed to echo, coming from a long way off.

  ‘Hello – Carrie,’ he said.

  ……TWENTY-SEVEN

  For a moment she couldn’t move. Then, turning her head away, she gripped the parapet rail. ‘Oh, God,’ she moaned. ‘Oh, God. Oh, God…’

  ‘Don’t be afraid, Carrie,’ he said quickly. ‘Please, don’t be afraid.’

  She turned back to face him, her eyes darting left and right, as if she was afraid they might be overheard. ‘What are you doing here?’ she said.

  After a moment’s hesitation he moved to stand before her. Close up, he could see in her face the subtle changes, the fading scars. ‘I saw your show this evening,’ he said. ‘My God, you were something else.’ He shook his head in a gesture of wonder and admiration. ‘You were absolutely amazing. Better than Rosemary could ever be.’

  Now a little smile touched the corners of her mouth. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Though I still can’t take it in,’ he said. ‘I mean – how did it all happen? What made you do it?’

  ‘What made me do it?’ She looked surprised, as if the question was unnecessary. ‘I didn’t plan it. It just happened. They took me for Rosemary. Her name-tag – it was sewn into the dress I was wearing. It was a dress she’d given me – and her credit cards were in my pocket. Everything else got burned up. They thought I was Rosemary and they called me Rosemary, and I – I responded.’ A brief shrug, as if it all made sense. ‘It just happened – and I went along with it. Anyway,’ she added with a note of pride, ‘I gave everybody what they wanted, didn’t I? They wanted Rosemary – and they got her.’

  He nodded. ‘They did indeed. But weren’t you afraid?’

  ‘Afraid?’ She gazed at him, wide-eyed. ‘Of course I was afraid! But I’m an actress – as you saw tonight. And I was always terrific at impersonations. Right from when I was a kid. At parties and things I could always be relied on to strut my stuff – taking off all the singers and the old movie stars. And with Rosemary it wasn’t difficult. All those years together – let’s face it, nobody in the world knew her better than I did.’ She gave a nod. ‘There were three thousand people in that audience tonight, and I fooled them all. Well, all except you.’

  ‘Oh, you were incredible,’ he said. ‘But it wasn’t only the voice – you had everything about her. Her gestures, the way she walked, her little mannerisms. You had it all.’

  She nodded again. ‘I’m a perfectionist as well.’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ He frowned. ‘But what will you do now?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well – when they find out that you’re not Rosemary.’

  ‘They’re not going to find out.’

  ‘Oh, Carrie, they will,’ he said. ‘Sooner or later you’re bound to meet somebody – apart from me – who knew her too well to be fooled.’

  She shook her head. ‘No, that’s not going to happen.’ She waved a hand, gesturing back to the apartment. ‘Go ask them in there. They know who I am.’