EMBRACE YOU Lone(liness Book Two)(13)
"She's locked up and they tell us that she's not being released. That's something," says Marcus.
"There's one thing I wonder. We've seen her picture in your school yearbook. How could she think that you would be interested in her some fourteen years past secondary school, if you weren't interested in her during school?"
"The human mind is a fearsome thing, Jo. Despite all evidence to the contrary, Cara believed that, if she lost even a fraction of the weight she needed to lose, I would somehow, magically fall in love with her. She convinced herself of this 'fact,' so much so that, I think she became delusional. As the barrister said, we don't know what kind of diagnosis she will be given, if any. What counts more than anything is that she is safely locked away behind bars - where she belongs. And her friend is, too. Neither one of them can do us any harm as long as they stay where they are. We also have to keep our guard high - keep a watch on when we are out and about and, more than anything make sure that nobody can get to our precious little girl."
That's the day the phone calls from tabloids begin. Starting at the beginning of the day and continuing until well after we came home, they call us repeatedly. Of course, we have nothing to say to them - but because they mask their phone numbers, we don't know who's calling us. We resort to screening our calls. When a family member or friend calls and we hear their voice on our voice mail, we pick up immediately.
Marcus calls the magistrate to register this newest development with them. Now that the gag order is in effect, the press is starving for any word from anyone involved in this sorry case. The calls disrupt Lizzie's sleep and she becomes a little crankypuss. Even when we dial the volume of the phone's ringer down, it's audible in her bedroom.
As a result of Marcus' call to the magistrate, the press is forbidden from any contact with us, at all. Of course, we love these gag orders, so we say nothing when we're approached. The press doesn't give up - instead, they resort to camping out in front of our house or the studio to see if they can get any word from us.
Tim and the boys are gathered in a small cluster when Marcus, Lizzie and I arrive for practice this morning. They go quiet as we open the studio door, so we know they're talking about us.
I set Lizzie into her play pen as Marcus gets ready to start working.
"Marcus, Johanna, we've been talking about your situation and we think we may have something of a temporary solution," Tim says.
Of course, this grabs our attention. Marcus lifts the baby out of her pen and we join the boys.
"What is it? Short of murder, that is," says Marcus darkly.
"Nothing that extreme. We were thinking of giving the press what they want - then, at the end, unleashing a complete surprise on them and giving them exactly...nothing," says Tim mysteriously.
I have to admit, I'm lost when he says this.
"Tim, what do you mean?"
"I mean, talk to the magistrate and see if he'll give you lot the right to meet with members of the press. Act like you're going to answer all their questions. Build up to a huge denouement. Then, at the end, when it looks like you're going to give them a huge scoop, give them the big zero. Of course, you'd have to decide ahead of time what you're going to say and how you're going to build up to that big zero."
I look at Marcus, completely confused. The past few nights of interrupted sleep are telling on me.
"I don't know, Tim. I'd need to think about this and talk to Marcus about it. Right now, thinking of anything beyond Lizzie's next nappy is too much for me."
"Guys, can we think about this and decide if it would work? If we think it might, we'll talk more about it then," Marcus suggests.
"Okay, Johanna, I know you're completely exhausted right now. Let me explain why and how we came up with this idea. The press are dancing you two a very un-merry jig right now. Every time they are stopped by an injunction or gag order, they pop up somewhere else you don't expect them to. This is what we're thinking: Talk to the barrister for the magistrate. Let him know what we've suggested. Which is this...Marcus would call the tabloids and rags that have been bothering you the most. Promise a huge scoop to them - provided they leave you alone after you talk to them. They're going to jump at that. Then, we all sit down and decide just what you will give them. We'll decide what we're going to use as bait for the Big Reveal. Then, as you're talking to them, you reel them in with harmless little tidbits. Start building up to that Big Reveal. Then, when it's time, wind them up and give them - absolutely nothing. And usher them back out the door, all the while reminding them of what they've promised you."
I'm barely able to keep up as my heavy eyelids drift down. I look at Marcus and he's slowly nodding his head. He's able to keep up much better than I can.
"Coffee. Or tea. Something to wake me up," I mutter.
Laslow hears me and puts his hand out, indicating he's going to get me something. A few minutes later, I'm holding a big, steaming mug of strong tea. I sip slowly, savoring the heat and flavor. I feel more alert and as if I can actually hold two thoughts in my melted brain.
"Okay, so let me see if I have this straight. You lot are suggesting that we promise a big scoop to the press, get together with them, give them small pieces that we wouldn't mind having out there? And then, we wind them up and make them think we're going to give them something huge...am I right?" At Tim's nod, I go on. "Then, when they think we're going to give them the biggest scoop of their careers, we give them nothing. How do we keep them away after that? They will be highly upset," I say.