The table for lunch had been booked at an Italian restaurant in the Strand. In my eagerness I arrived too early. Anxious not to appear too keen, I disappeared into the ladies' and lost some time reapplying my lipstick and fussing with my hair. When I decided I was just late enough to appear relaxed yet not impolite, I gathered up all my courage and made my way to the bar.

I spotted them at once and sighed with relief. At least they had turned up. Pausing, a little out of their line of vision, I a.s.sessed them both. They looked an unlikely pair; bald, bespectacled Harry in his usual formal dark-grey suit and tie; Paul in jeans and a black roll-neck sweater, his dark hair longish and flopping slightly over his brow. I took a deep breath and breezed in.

'h.e.l.lo, you two. I'm so sorry I'm late. I had such a job finding a taxi.'

Paul stood up and offered his hand. 'How nice to meet you again, Louise. What can I get you to drink?'

I hardly tasted my lunch. In fact I can't even remember what I ordered. I was too busy a.s.sessing Paul's thoughts and wondering if he still felt the same about offering me the part. As soon as the dessert had been served, Harry made his excuses.

'I hate to eat and run but I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave you two now,' he said, getting up from the table. 'I've got an important meeting at two. But I'm sure you can manage without me.' He smiled. 'Let me know how your meeting goes,' he whispered in my ear as he bent to drop a formal kiss on my cheek.

'I'll be in touch.' I smiled up at him.

When he'd gone Paul asked if I'd like a liqueur. I shook my head. 'I won't, thanks. It's a bit early in the day. But don't let me stop you.'

'I don't want any more to drink either,' he said. 'I prefer to keep a clear head.' As he glanced at his watch I wondered if, like Harry, he was about to make an excuse to leave, but he looked at me enquiringly. 'Look if you're not doing anything else this afternoon, would you like to come back to the flat with me? I could play you some of the numbers I've written for the show and you could have a copy of the script to take home and read. What do you say?'

What did I say? I was absolutely thrilled. He hadn't written me off after all. 'That would be lovely,' I said, trying not to appear too keen. 'I'd love to hear some of your music.'

His flat was on the top floor of a fashionable block in Kensington. He opened the door into the living room, which contained a grand piano and a couple of black leather sofas. I tried not to let him see how impressed I was. Going over to the piano he picked up a copy of the music, complete with words, and handed it to me.

'Have a seat. I'll run through a couple of songs and then perhaps you'd like to try them out.'

My heart was thumping as he ran his fingers over the keys. If this was an audition it was the most unusual one I'd ever had. He ran his hands over the keys and then broke into the first theme. I don't read music so I tried hard to memorize the tune. Luckily, it was quite a simple melody and the words seemed to fit well. When I got up to stand beside him at the piano, my knees were trembling but I got through the first verse without stumbling and he looked quite pleased.

'That was great, Louise. Shall we try another? There's a nice duet between Elizabeth and Darcy. I'll take Darcy's part if you like, though I warn you, I'm no Pavarotti.'

The duet was pleasant and although I was nervous it seemed to go quite well. When it was over Paul smiled up at me.

'I know it's early days but I've got a really strong feeling that we're going to have a hit on our hands.'

My mouth was dry as I asked, 'Is this an audition, Paul?'

He looked surprised. 'I think we've pa.s.sed that stage. I already knew you could sing. The part is yours if you want it, that is. I thought that was a foregone conclusion.'

I felt my colour rise. 'I see. Well, of course I want the part.'

'Right, that's settled, then.' He got up from the piano. 'Shall we break for a cup of tea?'

'I'd love one. Can I do anything to help?'

The kitchen was very modern and minimalist with every labour-saving gadget imaginable. While he put the kettle on I found cups and saucers and laid a tray.

'This is a beautiful apartment,' I remarked.

He nodded. 'It's nice and central. It suits me very well.'

'I love the songs,' I said. 'What I've heard so far, that is. Have you gone very far with the casting?'

'It's almost complete,' he told me. 'I'm producing myself as well as being musical director, naturally. I do still have to get a director but I have a very good one in mind. I can't tell you who yet. It's always difficult to get a big-name director when you don't plan to put a big star in the leading role.'

I looked at him. 'Yes, I was going to ask you about that.'

'You are going to be my star, Louise,' he said. 'If the show really takes off, as I believe it will, your face is going to be on the front of all the magazines.' He left me for a moment to absorb this heady prospect and for a second I wondered if he could hear my excited heart drumming from across the room. Then he asked casually, 'Did I tell you that I've arranged a read-through for next week?'

'No,' I said, my mouth dry. It was all gathering momentum even faster than I'd expected.

'I hope you'll be free to come.'

'Of course I will. Just tell me where and when.'

Over the tea and biscuits he asked me about myself and I outlined my career, trying to boost it up and make it sound better than it actually was. He asked me about my family too, which surprised me. I told him how my mother had walked out when I was very young and how I intended to try to find her again. He was sympathetic.

'Well, once you're a West End star I've no doubt she'll want to know you,' he said with a smile. As he poured a second cup of tea for both of us he asked, 'Louise there was some mention of you putting some money into the show ...'

I nodded. 'Yes. I'm not wealthy but I could manage a little.'

'The rest of the cast are chipping in,' he went on. 'It's because at the moment I don't have a backer. Again it's the start thing, but I hope to get someone interested very soon. It's just to get the ball rolling and the loans will all be paid back as soon as possible with interest of course.'

'Naturally.'

He paused, biting his lip. 'I hate to ask, but have you any idea how much your input might be?'

I did some quick sums in my head. 'I take it there'll be no salary during the rehearsal period,' I said tentatively.

'Well, no, I'm afraid not.'

I gave him the figure that was in my head. 'Don't take that as positive,' I added. 'I'll have to work out what I'll need to live on. I'll do it later this evening when I get home.'

He looked pleasantly surprised. 'That or something like it would be very generous,' he said. 'But think of it as an investment. Once we get into the West End the cash should start rolling in.'

I couldn't wait for Di to get home. I was longing to tell her that all her misgivings were unfounded and that the new musical was going to be a hit. The moment she got in I began.

'I've had the most exciting day,' I told her. 'It was perfect. After lunch, Paul took me back to his flat. You should see it, Di. It's in Kensington; the last word in luxury and it ...'

'Great,' she interrupted as she took off her coat. 'So what did you get for tea?' She shook the raindrops off her coat and hung it up without looking at me. 'I'm starving. I didn't have time for lunch and ...' She turned and caught my expression.

Tea! I'd completely forgotten about the supermarket. I bit my lip. How could she expect me to think about mundane things like food after the exciting day I'd had?

'Oh I'm sorry, Di,' I mumbled. 'I forgot.'

She stared at me. 'You forgot! Oh, really, Lou. Surely it's not asking too much for you to pop into Tesco on your way home for a few bits.'

I was shocked at her response. 'I said I'm sorry. Surely you can rustle up something just for tonight.'

'Well, no, I can't actually. The fridge is completely empty, thanks to you and your constant snacking while I'm out at work. Perhaps you could pop out now and get something. I don't care what, just as long as it's edible.'

I stared at her. 'But it's raining!'

'Yes, oddly enough I noticed that on the way home when I got soaked,' she said with unnecessary sarcasm.

'You're serious, aren't you?'

'Never more so.'

Furious, I reached for my coat. 'There's a mini-market up the road,' I snapped. 'Will that do for you?'

She shrugged. 'Like I said as long as it's edible and you're paying, it's fine.'

On the way to the corner shop my temper cooled a little. It was good of Di to let me stay and if she decided to throw me out it would make life difficult; that, I had to admit. Maybe I should have made more of an effort; after all, if I had to find other accommodation now before the provincial tour began, it would be expensive and with my contribution to the show I was going to have to watch the pennies. Reluctantly, I acknowledged that I was going to have to pocket my pride.

At the corner shop I bought a packet of pasta and a jar of sauce; a tin of peaches and a carton of cream. Then, on second thoughts, I bought a box of chocolates. Keeping on the right side of Di seemed the diplomatic way to go under the circ.u.mstances.

Back at the flat she seemed to have calmed down too. My purchases seemed to satisfy her and when I gave her the chocolates and apologized for forgetting to shop earlier, she shook her head.

'Thanks. It's all right, Lou. I'm sorry too if I was a bit sharp but I've had a pig of a day at the office.' She put a pan of water on for the pasta and opened the jar of sauce. 'I know you're dying to tell me all your news but there are a couple of things I'd like to clear up first.'

'OK, like what?' I said, my back to her as I began to lay the table. I had the distinct feeling I wasn't going to like what she was about to say.

'Well, if you're planning to stay on for a while that's fine. You know you're always welcome, but I'm going to have to ask you to contribute to the bills food and so on.'

'Oh OK then.' Fair enough, I thought. Maybe I had been taking advantage a bit.

'And maybe a little towards the rent.'

'Right.' The rent! What else was she going to ask for?

'And I hate having to mention this, Lou, but do you think you could try and be a bit tidier around the place?'

I bit back a sharp retort. I'd always thought of Di as my best friend. Now all at once she was behaving more like some sort of nanny. But I didn't really have a choice but to agree to her terms if I wanted to stay. I forced a smile. 'OK, Di,' I said through clenched teeth. 'Sorry if I've been making your home look like a tip.'

She didn't argue, seeming to miss the irony. Smiling, she said, 'Well, that's got that out of the way. Now are you going to tell me about your day while we wait for the pasta to cook?'

Somehow she failed to see that she'd just taken most of the shine off it.

Chapter Five.

'Come into the kitchen and sit down, Mum. I've got something to tell you.'

Susan had just brought Peter home from a trip into town to see Father Christmas. It hadn't been a success. To her horror he'd been terrified and ran screaming from the scarlet-clad figure into his grandmother's arms, without even waiting for his gift. All the way home on the bus he'd been inconsolable and now he stood clutching Susan's hand, his lip trembling. She was shocked that Karen hadn't even noticed his distress.

'Can we just get Peter his tea first?' she asked. 'He's a bit upset.'

For the first time Karen looked down at her son. 'What's the matter with him?'

Susan frowned and shook her head in an attempt to play the situation down but Karen persisted. Crouching down to the little boy's level she asked, 'What's the matter, baby? Don't you feel very well?'

Peter shook his head. 'Don't like man,' he said, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Karen looked up accusingly at Susan. 'What man? What happened?'

Susan sighed. 'I took him to Harvey's to see Santa but Peter was afraid of him.'

Karen picked Peter up and dried his tears. 'Really, Mum,' she said over his head. 'What were you thinking? He's far too young for that kind of thing.'

'I remember taking you at that age and you loved it. I'm sorry. I did tell him beforehand where we were going and he seemed to be looking forward to it.'

Peter soon cheered up at the promise of a boiled egg and soldiers and it was while Karen was tying on his bib that Susan asked, 'So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?'

'Oh, yes.' Karen looked up, a finger of wholemeal bread halfway to Peter's open mouth. 'I just wanted to say that we won't need you to babysit Peter after next week.'

'Oh!' Susan was stunned. 'So have you decided to go along with what Simon wants?'

'What do you mean?'

'I take it you're giving up work till Peter is older?'

'Good heavens, no, I'm not!' Karen said firmly. We're getting an au pair.'

Susan's eyebrows rose. 'An au pair from abroad, you mean? To live in?'

'That's what au pair means, yes. She's Dutch. I always think they're very homely people, the Dutch, don't you?'

'I don't think I know any,' Susan said faintly. 'Where did you find her?'

'Online, but of course we've spoken on the telephone.'

'Since when have you been able to speak Dutch?'

'I don't, of course, as you very well know, Mum. Adrey that's her name speaks perfect English. I'd hardly be employing someone Peter couldn't understand, would I?'

'So I'm to be surplus to requirements after next week, then, am I?'

Karen sighed. 'Oh dear, I did hope you wouldn't take it like that, Mum.'

'How else did you think I'd take it? I thought you were happy with our arrangement. Have I done something wrong?'

'No, of course you haven't and I we are really grateful for all you've done. It's just that Simon has been really stuffy about me going back to work so soon. As you know, he's always been adamant about Peter going to a nursery while he was still so young and he's got all these archaic ideas about a woman's place.'

'So you're making a stand?'

'I suppose you could call it that, yes.'