Breathless Page 4

  "With just that one role?" Charlotte asked, surprised. After looking through her mother's scrapbooks for years and years, Charlotte had always assumed that actresses had to get started in minor roles before getting lined up for the leads.

  "Yes, just that one," Mrs. Gates told her. "Before she knew it, she was being cast as Lady Macbeth, Nora in A Doll's House, and so many more. But she always found her way back into Lewis' plays. They just couldn't stay apart. They were married only two years after they met, when Helen was twenty." Charlotte's eyes widened at this. "And it was only later that year that Helen became pregnant. She had to quit theatre during her pregnancy. I think it disappointed her greatly. By the time Jack was born, Helen was terribly depressed. Lewis was so distraught. He insisted she go straight back to theatre. She is happiest there."

  "How old is Jack, Mrs. Gates?" Charlotte asked.

  "Seventeen. He'll be eighteen in just a few weeks. I've known him since he was just a tiny baby," she said proudly. "He was named John, after Helen's brother. But from the moment he was born, we all knew he was more of a Jack."

  "Is that why you came here? To take care of the baby?"

  "I suppose so. My husband David was the Careys' chauffeur from the time they were married. They employed me shortly afterward, and Helen encouraged me to put Topher right in the nursery with Jack, even though he's two years older. "

  "That was nice of her," Charlotte said, dusting the flour off her hands.

  "It was. People don't come any nicer than the Careys," Mrs. Gates said. "My husband died ten years ago in a car accident, the same one that injured Topher's leg. They were running an errand for the Careys. I don't think Lewis ever really forgave himself for David's death, even though he had nothing to do with it. But ten years later, they're still taking good care of Topher and me."

  Charlotte scoffed. "Jack sure thinks they aren't so nice."

  Mrs. Gates laughed. "Jack is just Jack. The sooner you accept that, Miss Martin, the sooner you'll come to understand who he is."

  "I'm not so sure I want to understand him," Charlotte confessed to Mrs. Gates. She blushed, feeling badly for saying this. But Charlotte didn't understand why Jack acted the way he did. And although she was intrigued by him, she wasn't about to let on.

  "Charlotte," came a quiet voice from the door. Lewis stood there in a suit and tie, looking quite handsome. "Could I speak with you, please? I'm sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Gates," he told her.

  "Yes, of course," Charlotte said. She took off her apron and followed him out into the hallway. "I didn't know you were home, Lewis."

  "I only just arrived," he told her. "I had a meeting at the theatre, but I didn't have to stay all day. Helen wanted for me to let you know that the family is going to be attending a party at the theatre, tonight. It's quite an elaborate event. We wanted to know if you would like to join us there."

  "Oh, Lewis!" Charlotte cried, a smile breaking over her face. "Yes! I've never been to one!"

  "Good," Lewis said with a smile. "I know we both wanted you there. Please be ready to leave by 7 o' clock. Helen is having a formal gown sent to the house for you to wear." He smiled at her again before turning and walking down the hall to his study.

  Charlotte followed him there. She couldn't keep her curiosity at bay any longer. She was grateful to the Careys for everything they had done, but she couldn't shake off the dreadful feeling that they had kept Jack a secret from her.

  "Lewis?" she asked, walking into the library. Lewis sat behind his desk, reading some papers and petting Little Bear with the other hand. Little Bear had taken a liking to Lewis, who called him Lucky.

  "Hm?" he murmured, immersed in his paperwork.

  "Lewis, why didn't you tell me about Jack?" Charlotte asked.

  Lewis looked up in shock. "You met Jack?" he asked.

  "Yes," Charlotte told him. "He came home late last night while I was reading. And then I met him this morning in the dining room." She frowned. "Why didn't you tell me that you and Helen had a son? And that he lived here?"

  Lewis took off his glasses with a sigh and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry we didn't say anything last night, Charlotte. But you had such a long journey and so many changes at once...we just didn't want to burden you with another bit of news. Helen and I had already decided we weren't going to mention Jack until you were settled in. We just didn't want to burden you with any more." Lewis' eyes were so kind and his voice so comforting that even though Charlotte was still slightly angry she hadn't been told about Jack, Lewis' words still made her feel better. "Why don't you start getting ready, Charlotte?" Lewis asked her. "I'm sure Mrs. Gates will be available if you need any help. I'll see you tonight."

  "Yes, Lewis," Charlotte told him with a small smile. She began to leave the room.

  "Charlotte!" Lewis called after her. "How do you like your books?"

  Charlotte grinned and turned back to Lewis. "I love them. Thank you."

  "Always a pleasure, Charlotte," he said, smiling back.

  Charlotte left the library and walked up the staircase to her room. As she walked down the hall, she noticed Jack walking toward her. It was so odd, knowing that this grumpy young man was sharing a home with her now. He was nothing like Luc. But nobody could ever be like Luc.

  Charlotte didn't say anything to Jack as she neared her door, but she was startled when he didn't even acknowledge her. Finally, Charlotte said something.

  "Your parents said we're all attending a party tonight," she told him in a straight voice. "Seven o' clock."

  Jack paused for a moment, but didn't even cast a glance at Charlotte. He muttered, "Of course," and retreated into his own room, which was directly across the hall from Charlotte's.

  How did he manage to anger her so much? Charlotte groaned and shut herself into her own room, leaning back against the door. I have Helen and Lewis, she thought to herself, trying to calm down, and they care about me. They care about how I feel and what burdens I have to carry. I don't have to give two thoughts about Jack. I'm going to a party tonight, with theatre stars and playwrights and all kinds of amazing people. He can't ruin this night for me. This night is going to be perfect.

  Charlotte could not suppress her smile when she walked through the doors of the theatre. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen-the ceilings were painted with murals of the evening sky and little lights twinkled to replicate the tiny stars. The walls were painted gold with pretty moldings. There was a grand staircase that led up to the gala room, over the auditorium.

  "Impressive, isn't it?" Helen nudged Charlotte with a knowing smile. "I remember the first time I stepped into this theatre," she reminisced, her eyes still sparkling with awe as she stood arm-in-arm with Lewis, who looked stunningly handsome in his black suit and royal blue tie, which matched Helen's dress perfectly. Helen had ordered Charlotte a beautiful black tea-length gown with a cap sleeves and a matching bag. Charlotte felt she fit right in with this crowd of elegantly dressed people. Even Jack, who had barely spoken a word during the car ride, looked very nice in his black suit and tie. But his hair, always a bit unruly, continually escaped the hair mousse his mother had insisted he slick it back with.

  "Come along, the gala is upstairs," Lewis directed.

  Charlotte kept close behind the pair, making sure not to get lost in the crowd. But at the same time she admired the people at the party-the girl who looked no older than Luc, but whose hair was dyed so blonde that it was almost white; the gentleman who looked nearly eighty, but had a young lady on his arm; the woman who carried a small dog in her arms. Oh, how Luc would have loved to see this! But then Charlotte remembered-Luc had seen all of this, every time his mother had invited him to the theatre while Charlotte sat at home alone.

  "Congratulations, Lewis," the old man came over with a grin and shook Lewis' hand. "Well-deserved. And who might this be?" he asked, looking over at Charlotte, who blushed.

  "You remember our son Jack, don't you Robert?" Lewis asked, gesturing to his son, who barely r
esponded. Jack pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, causing Lewis' face to fall in disappointment. The shadow quickly passed though and Lewis continued, "And this is Charlotte Martin. She'll be visiting from France for a while. Surely you know of her mother the actress Marie Georgette Martin? Helen performed with Marie when they were young."

  The old man's face lit up in an instant. "Yes, of course! I had the pleasure of meeting Marie a few years ago when she played in Hamlet. You're certainly a lucky little lady to have a mother as talented as her!"

  Charlotte managed to smile back, but was afraid it came out as more of a grimace as the familiar words were spoken to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Jack looking at her quite interestedly. Charlotte looked away.

  "Yes, well. Have a wonderful time tonight, Robert," Lewis said courteously and guided his family into the banquet room. He murmured out of the corner of his mouth, "Jack, you know I hate when you do that. You know it bothers your mother's lungs."

  Jack just looked away without a word.

  Helen squeezed Lewis' arm and smiled. "I'm fine, Lewis. Let him. Jack, won't you go with Charlotte to the bar for drinks? We'll find our table. It should be near the front. Meet us there."

  Jack again didn't reply, but started off toward the bar. Charlotte found herself nearly running to keep up with his pace.

  "What do you want?" Jack asked Charlotte, gesturing to the bartender, but it was hard to understand him with the cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

  Charlotte looked away in disgust before asking the bartender, "Could I please just have a water?" Mother had always told her it was vulgar for a young lady to drink alcohol in public.

  "And I'll have a scotch. On the rocks," Jack said confidently, pulling money from his suit pocket and tossing it on the counter.

  "Won't your parents mind that you're drinking?" Charlotte asked in awe, watching Jack confidently accept the glass and take a drink. Luc could never have even had wine at a theatre party.

  "Watch and see if they do," Jack replied, walking to the table where his family was seated. "But there won't be anything to see."

  Helen waved them over to the table with a grin. She looked so happy, Charlotte noticed. "Lewis and I were just going to take a spin on the dance floor. Why don't you two join us?"

  The very last thing Charlotte wanted to do was dance with Jack, who was obviously less than thrilled by his mother's suggestion. He rolled his eyes and put out his cigarette in the ashtray on the table, but took Charlotte's hand and followed his parents to the dance floor. Charlotte was surprised by how easily he moved, his hand around her waist and the other holding her own.

  "Why do you act like that to them?" Charlotte asked curiously, as Jack scanned the room with his busy blue eyes. "All Helen has tried to do all night was include you."

  "Oh really? That's what you think? Because I personally think it was the least of her worries," Jack said plainly, looking down at Charlotte with serene eyes. What continually surprised Charlotte about Jack was that he never seemed angered or upset by anything. On the contrary, he always seemed indifferent about everything. "Helen was worried about ruining her own image. What would it look like to have her only child sitting alone at the dinner table smoking his life away while everyone else at the gala danced?"

  "You wouldn't have been alone. You would have been with me," Charlotte said through clenched teeth.

  "I would not have been. Charlotte, just think for a moment. You're French. And you're famous. There is no way you would have been left without a dance partner."

  "I'm not famous. My mother was."

  "Exactly," Jack said, raising an eyebrow at her. "Do you know how many young, incorrigible actors there are in this room who would love to go act in the French theatre?"

  Charlotte's temper flared. She couldn't believe this boy was insinuating that she would have been used for her family's fame.

  "Do you try to make me feel terrible every time you speak to me?" Charlotte asked Jack with a glare. "Or does it just come naturally to you?"

  Jack didn't reply but just turned his head once again to continue looking out over the crowds.

  "If everyone could please take your seats," announced the bandmaster from the front of the hall. "We will start our award presentation promptly."

  Charlotte gratefully made her way back to the table, sitting directly next to Helen and ignoring Jack completely as he sat to her other side. "Where's Lewis?" she asked Helen, who was sipping from a delicate wine goblet.

  "I imagine he'd be backstage, going over his notes. I've never known my husband to be ill-prepared with when giving acceptance speeches." Helen smiled at Charlotte.

  Charlotte's eyes widened. "This banquet is for Lewis?" she exclaimed.

  Helen nodded proudly, her blue eyes bright. "Yes, of course! His latest play has accumulated great acclaim. He deserves it. He works so hard."

  "I had no idea!" Charlotte grinned as Lewis was announced. He walked onstage with a confidence she had never seen him omit before, but at the same time assumed his quiet modesty as he smiled gratefully and accepted the trophy handed to him. He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and began to speak.

  "Thank you all for spending your evenings with me as I graciously accept this award. This means so much to me."

  Charlotte noticed Jack shift in his chair as he pulled another cigarette from his pocket and light it while Lewis spoke.

  "I'd firstly like to thank my beautiful wife Helen, without whom none of this would have been possible." Helen beamed at her husband's words. "She was the inspiration for my first great work. It wouldn't have been anything of great significance without her love, support, and talent. Thank you, dear."

  The hall began to applaud Helen, who turned a deep pink as Lewis smiled at her from the podium. When the applause began to subside, he resumed speaking about his play. Jack, with a sudden huff, stood abruptly from his chair and stalked out of the hall. Helen leaned close to Charlotte and murmured, "Charlotte, would you be a dear and follow Jack? I would see what's wrong, but I can't leave while Lewis is speaking..."

  "Of course," Charlotte said, a little disappointedly. She wished to hear Lewis speak. She had never read one of his plays and was rather curious to find out what all the fuss was about. But she must do what she was told, or else her relationship with Helen could end up to be just as strained as the one with her own mother. Charlotte stood quietly and flitted from the hall, careful not to create another disturbance like Jack just had.

  Charlotte followed the direction where Jack had gone, out to the back of the hall. She found him standing on the large balcony outside, leaning against the banister and looking down at the streets, while smoking his cigarette. Charlotte rolled her eyes. Was there anything this boy stood for? Suddenly feeling quite angry at him, she briskly walked over to Jack and snatched the cigarette out of his mouth, putting it out on the stone banister. All she wanted to do was rile him up.

  But it didn't work, as she should have known it wouldn't. He annoyingly raised an eyebrow at Charlotte. "Why are you out here? Shouldn't you be listening to Lewis' lovely speech?"

  "Shouldn't you?" Charlotte retorted. "You're his son."

  Jack scoffed and shook his head, leaning back over the banister. "Did Helen ask you to come after me?" he asked suddenly. Charlotte didn't reply. She didn't know what to say. Jack laughed harshly. "Of course," he muttered.

  "Why are you like this?" Charlotte asked indignantly. "Why are you sullen all of the time?" She knew she had been a terror sometimes back home to her own mother, but she would never have acted in public like Jack was acting. It was so disrespectful.

  "You wouldn't understand," Jack said in his usual dull voice, shaking his head.

  "Oh really, what wouldn't I understand?" Charlotte exclaimed, anger bubbling up inside of her. She pulled Jack to face her. "You do realize I'm from France? Much more terrible things are happening there than you could even imagine here in England.

  "Exactly," Jack re
plied. This time he had an edge to his voice and his eyes looked sharp. "That is exactly why you wouldn't understand. Because even though terrible things are happening back in France where your family is, you'll forget all of that for a fancy new dress and pair of gloves."

  Charlotte glared at him. He had no idea what he was talking about. How did he think he knew her after barely a day and a total of three conversations? Who did he think he was? But then she noticed that Jack was glaring right back at her, as if he disliked her just as much as she disliked him. And then his eyes grew wide.

  She heard it, too. Sirens, louder than imaginable and screeching terribly.

  "What is that?" Charlotte cried, throwing her hands over her ears.

  "Air sirens!" Jack yelled back. He looked panicked, which scared Charlotte even more. "We have to get below, now." He grabbed Charlotte's hand and pulled her with him, running to the side of the balcony to the escape ladder. He climbed onto it first. "You need to come now, Charlotte!" Jack yelled over the screams of the sirens. He looked up at her with desperate eyes. "I promise, I won't let you fall! I'll be right below you!"

  Charlotte nodded and forced herself onto the ladder, climbing down as quickly as she could with Jack right below her. "Keep coming!" she heard him yell. "Just a bit further!" She continued her descent until she finally felt Jack's hands at her waist as he pulled her down from the last rungs onto the cobblestoned pavement. But he yanked her hand again. "Come on!"

  Jack ran to the side of the theatre and crouched down to the ground, kicking in a low window and breaking it. He slid through the small window smoothly, as if he had done it dozens of times. "Charlotte, you need to come in! Now!" he yelled. Charlotte could suddenly hear the roar of planes above her. She dropped to her knees and crawled backwards into the basement of the theatre. Jack pulled her in and the pair fell gasping to the floor just as the streets began to quake.