Marcus caught her gaze. ‘Come here, you.’ He patted his lap for her to join him. Finula walked over to him and sat on his thighs. Marcus wrapped his arms round her and kissed her cheek. ‘Don’t worry, Finula, just a few short weeks and I’m all yours.’
30
Sebastian stared at the review in front of him. He felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Words hit him, assaulting his senses, “slight hobble”, “tremoring with nerves”, “lost his touch”. All of this from The Times, which had less than twelve months ago hailed him as the new Laurence Olivier. Sebastian gulped; his mouth had dried up. Surely it wasn’t that noticeable? Then he remembered the critic from the opening night, who was renowned for her direct, damning opinion and wasn’t afraid to pack a punch. He dully realised that it was now his turn to be the recipient of her sharp tongue.
He wanted to slap her, hard, and sue the bloody Times. How dare they? How dare they sully his precious production and his acting ability? He was Sebastian Cavendish-Blake, the gifted, acclaimed actor of the Shakespeare Theatre! Yes, but only as Richard III, goaded a nasty, malicious voice inside him. Who could criticise his “hobbling” when playing the role of a crippled king? Sebastian’s eyes filled. Was this the end for him? Just when he had made it to the pinnacle of his career, was he about to have it all snatched cruelly away? A tear spilled out and ran slowly down his face. He’d never felt so helpless.
Then another sinister thought struck him – Tobias. What if he’d seen the review? Feeling the need of his brother’s support, Sebastian made the decision to tell him everything, now. He’d had enough of the secrecy, as if it was something to be kept hidden. Why? He realised how much he missed Tobias’ wise words and counselling. His brother had always been there for him throughout his life. Now more than ever he needed him.
Tobias was in his study when Sebastian knocked quietly at the door and entered. It didn’t help seeing The Times spread out on his desk. Tobias just looked at him, saying nothing. Sebastian swallowed then spoke.
‘Have you read the review?’
‘Yes.’ Again he just stared, waiting for him to continue.
‘Tobias, there’s something I need to tell you.’
‘About time.’ He wasn’t making it easy for him.
‘I’ve got multiple sclerosis.’
Tobias’ face remained deadpan. ‘When were you diagnosed?’ he asked flatly.
‘Just before Edward was born. I didn’t want to ruin things by telling you.’
‘For fuck’s sake, Sebastian!’ Tobias thumped his desk hard, making him jump.
‘Don’t be angry—’
‘Does Marcus know?’ interrupted Tobias.
‘Yes… only just—’
‘I see,’ he cut in again.
‘No, Tobias, you don’t see,’ Sebastian threw back forcefully. ‘Just when things were finally going well for you, with Megan and a baby on the way, I didn’t want my diagnosis to add a dampener. I certainly did not want Mother fussing round me either,’ he added. Then he moved closer to the desk. ‘Listen, Tobias, this came as a shock to me, I… I needed time to get my head round it.’
‘How could you keep this to yourself?’ Tobias asked, seemingly incredulous at his little brother’s secrecy. They never kept things from each other.
‘I was always going to tell you, but in my time. This isn’t about you, Tobias, it’s about me and how I deal with it.’
Tobias sighed and nodded his head, as if weakly understanding the situation. ‘Are you going to tell Mother?’
‘Yes, in time.’
‘How are you feeling?’ Tobias’ face was etched with concern.
‘In truth, fine. Apart from the obvious limp and fatigue, which comes and goes. Other than that, OK.’
‘Will it get worse?’
Sebastian shrugged. ‘Can’t say. Sometimes symptoms don’t, then again they could gradually worsen.’
‘Right.’ Tobias nodded his head again. Then he pointed to the paper on his desk. ‘This, by the way, is bollocks.’
Sebastian laughed. ‘I’m glad someone else thinks so too. It’s not that obvious is it?’
‘No.’ Tobias shook his head. ‘Your own brother didn’t realise, did he?’ he said sardonically.
‘Do you think I should give up acting?’
‘Absolutely fucking not,’ Tobias answered immediately. ‘Get out there and show them what you’re made of. You’re a Cavendish-Blake for God’s sake.’ Again, Sebastian laughed. Hadn’t he thought the very same just moments before?
31
Flora was in the paddock with Phoenix. She’d just ridden him at full pelt down the all-weather wood-chip gallop and felt invigorated. Phoenix was still whooping up all the attention from the yard staff after his brilliant win. It was as if the horse knew he was the current star attraction.
She noticed a black Jaguar pull into the yard and park outside the office. Instantly she recognised it, especially when seeing the private registration plate “R0P3R” – Graham Roper. Quickly, she rode Phoenix out of the paddock and safely back to his stable, out of the way. The last thing she wanted was Roper seeing Phoenix, and especially in such good shape. Then again, he’d already seen how well Phoenix was looking from the point-to-point, she acknowledged with trepidation.
Dylan too had seen the car park right outside his window. Deciding to fight fire with fire, he got up to answer the door, rather than let the man stride into his own office. Not bothering with the pleasantries, Dylan spoke.
‘What do you want?’ He glared at Roper.
‘The rest of the money you owe me for my horse.’
‘It’s not your horse and I don’t owe you a penny,’ replied Dylan icily.
Roper gave a harsh laugh. ‘That horse is worth far more than the pittance you paid for it,’ he spat, ‘and what’s your partnership called? The Last Laugh? We’ll see about that, you swine.’ Roper’s face was blood red and angry.
‘That horse was in dreadful condition.’ Dylan’s voice was dangerously quiet and controlled, though deep down he was feeling anything but. ‘Phoenix was covered in whip lashes, he had swollen legs and was shaking with fear.’
Roper shook his comments off with a huff. ‘I don’t spoil horses the way you do.’
‘I look after my horses well, Roper, unlike you. Tell me—’ he leant forward to face him squarely ‘—have you ever been reported?’ Roper, for the first time, looked taken aback. Dylan made good use of the silence. ‘It’s about time the authorities were informed of your mistreatment of animals. We took photographs, of the state Phoenix was in,’ Dylan lied, but his threat seemed to be hitting home. ‘I’ll see to it that you no longer have any horses, Roper.’
At this Roper lunged towards Dylan, but he was too quick and easily dodged his throw. Dylan then straightened and threw his fist smack into Roper’s face, bursting his nose.
‘Ahh!’ Roper clutched his face, which was now covered in blood. Dylan then booted him off the doorstep, sending Roper staggering backwards to land on the bonnet of his car.