you mind telling me what the hell’s going on?’
H e looked genuinely surprised when Geraldine explained that they were trying to establish the identity of the other driver involved in the accident.
‘Can’t you people tell that from the car registration? I’d like to help you get to the bottom of it, of course I would, but I really should be in a rehearsal right now. Other people depend on me to be there,’ he added with conscious self-importance.
‘We’ll get done a lot faster if you just answer my questions. Where were you on Friday night between two and three in the morning?’
‘Oh Jesus,’ he broke off, frowning, as though it was an effort to remember. ‘I was with my girlfriend, Megan. We’d had a busy day, so we went back to the flat, watched a film, went through my lines together, and crashed. I was with Megan all night.’
H e gazed at Geraldine with a wide-eyed expression of innocence on his handsome face. Geraldine wrote down the name of his girl friend. She started to ask him about his friendship with Anna after she left the drama school, but just then a harassed-looking girl entered the bar and scanned the room. She was slightly plump, with long red hair. Her frown deepened when she saw them and she hurried over to tell Dirk everyone was waiting for him, and Wendel was going mental.
‘He said ten minutes,’ she reminded him plaintively.
Dirk looked at Geraldine anxiously. Then he turned back to the redhead.
‘You go back up. Go on. Tell him I’m right behind you.’
The girl hesitated.
‘Go!’
The girl obediently spun round and ran off.
D irk sprang to his feet, towering over Geraldine as she sat at the table.
‘I’ve got to get back to rehearsal. No one messes with Wendel. I’m in enough trouble as it is!’
‘I’ll see you again,’ Geraldine muttered under her breath, as he hurried away.
Chapter 17
T HE ENVELOPE HAD BEEN delivered to the drama school by hand, addressed simply to Zak Trevelyan. With a burst of adrenaline he tore it open, trying to control his excitement. It was bound to be junk but, like all his fellow students, he was waiting for a lucky break. Although most of them didn’t manage to find work until after they graduated, if at all, there were exceptions. Stories were passed around of students who were talent spotted and offered paid jobs before they had even completed their training. Some of the stories were true. He slipped a single sheet of paper out of the envelope and scanned it quickly. Like the envelope, the letter was typed. It was very short.
Hello Zak
It’s a long time since we met. You won’t remember me. You were just a baby when I saw you last. Your late mother was my sister. Perhaps I can take you out for dinner? Please give me a call on the number below and I hope we can spend some time together soon.
Darius (your uncle)
Z ak wasn’t sure whether to feel pleased or disappointed after reading it. He had always known that he had an uncle, but his father never talked about him and Zak had never asked. Reading the letter, he was curious to meet him. Besides, his uncle had offered to buy him dinner. It would be churlish to refuse. It wouldn’t do any harm to meet the guy in a restaurant and find out what he was like. Plus he might talk about Zak’s mother who had died when he was a baby. All Zak knew about her was that she had been beautiful and she had drowned. His father had been vague when questioned about her. Once Zak had pressed him, claiming he had a right to know. His father had snapped that he didn’t want to talk about her.
T he thin high-pitched voice that answered the phone could have belonged to a man or a woman.
‘Hello?’
Zak hesitated. It might be his uncle on the line, but it could equally be a wife or girlfriend.
‘I’d like to speak to Darius.’
‘This is Darius. That must be Zak?’
‘Yes. How did you know?’
‘You sound like your mother.’
Zak was surprised. His mother had died seventeen years
H e looked genuinely surprised when Geraldine explained that they were trying to establish the identity of the other driver involved in the accident.
‘Can’t you people tell that from the car registration? I’d like to help you get to the bottom of it, of course I would, but I really should be in a rehearsal right now. Other people depend on me to be there,’ he added with conscious self-importance.
‘We’ll get done a lot faster if you just answer my questions. Where were you on Friday night between two and three in the morning?’
‘Oh Jesus,’ he broke off, frowning, as though it was an effort to remember. ‘I was with my girlfriend, Megan. We’d had a busy day, so we went back to the flat, watched a film, went through my lines together, and crashed. I was with Megan all night.’
H e gazed at Geraldine with a wide-eyed expression of innocence on his handsome face. Geraldine wrote down the name of his girl friend. She started to ask him about his friendship with Anna after she left the drama school, but just then a harassed-looking girl entered the bar and scanned the room. She was slightly plump, with long red hair. Her frown deepened when she saw them and she hurried over to tell Dirk everyone was waiting for him, and Wendel was going mental.
‘He said ten minutes,’ she reminded him plaintively.
Dirk looked at Geraldine anxiously. Then he turned back to the redhead.
‘You go back up. Go on. Tell him I’m right behind you.’
The girl hesitated.
‘Go!’
The girl obediently spun round and ran off.
D irk sprang to his feet, towering over Geraldine as she sat at the table.
‘I’ve got to get back to rehearsal. No one messes with Wendel. I’m in enough trouble as it is!’
‘I’ll see you again,’ Geraldine muttered under her breath, as he hurried away.
Chapter 17
T HE ENVELOPE HAD BEEN delivered to the drama school by hand, addressed simply to Zak Trevelyan. With a burst of adrenaline he tore it open, trying to control his excitement. It was bound to be junk but, like all his fellow students, he was waiting for a lucky break. Although most of them didn’t manage to find work until after they graduated, if at all, there were exceptions. Stories were passed around of students who were talent spotted and offered paid jobs before they had even completed their training. Some of the stories were true. He slipped a single sheet of paper out of the envelope and scanned it quickly. Like the envelope, the letter was typed. It was very short.
Hello Zak
It’s a long time since we met. You won’t remember me. You were just a baby when I saw you last. Your late mother was my sister. Perhaps I can take you out for dinner? Please give me a call on the number below and I hope we can spend some time together soon.
Darius (your uncle)
Z ak wasn’t sure whether to feel pleased or disappointed after reading it. He had always known that he had an uncle, but his father never talked about him and Zak had never asked. Reading the letter, he was curious to meet him. Besides, his uncle had offered to buy him dinner. It would be churlish to refuse. It wouldn’t do any harm to meet the guy in a restaurant and find out what he was like. Plus he might talk about Zak’s mother who had died when he was a baby. All Zak knew about her was that she had been beautiful and she had drowned. His father had been vague when questioned about her. Once Zak had pressed him, claiming he had a right to know. His father had snapped that he didn’t want to talk about her.
T he thin high-pitched voice that answered the phone could have belonged to a man or a woman.
‘Hello?’
Zak hesitated. It might be his uncle on the line, but it could equally be a wife or girlfriend.
‘I’d like to speak to Darius.’
‘This is Darius. That must be Zak?’
‘Yes. How did you know?’
‘You sound like your mother.’
Zak was surprised. His mother had died seventeen years
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