by Jane Fallon
‘But, as a person,’ I said.
He shrugged. ‘It was hard to tell because he wasn’t happy that I was bothering him. Seemed OK. Posh voice. One of those.’
‘So maybe he does live in the nice house,’ Dee said.
‘Maybe,’ I said, taking a swig of my beer. ‘At this point I don’t even know if the nice house exists.’
‘Well, Gavin Fletcher P.I. is going to find out for you.’ Dee put a hand on his leg and he covered it with his own. It made me feel warm and fuzzy to see them getting on so well, I’m not going to lie.
I’m paying attention to Roz’s showing off now, of course. Nodding and smiling along when she looks at me apologetically, willing me not to expose her secret. Well, the secret she knows I know, that is. The one she told me, which turned out to be just as untrue as all her other bullshit.
She’s acting as if she’s sharing it all reluctantly, and it strikes me that this is what she always does. So long as she has someone like Lorraine – or me once, although it’s hard now to imagine – prodding her for details, she can pretend that she’s not showing off, she’s just answering the questions she’s being asked. It’s all in the eye movements, the subtle little shakes of the head and eye rolls that say ‘Well, since you asked …’ It’s a masterclass.
Today’s stories involve lunch at Sindhu by personal invitation of Atul Kochhar, and Kelly Hoppen popping round to give her and Hugh ideas for the refurb of the mews house that they’re planning. Lorraine probes and prods as she’s supposed to, practically orgasmic at the splendour of it all.
‘Oh, we’re just going to freshen it up a bit, you know,’ Roz says, eyes cast down like Princess Diana. ‘New kitchen, new bathrooms …’
‘How many bathrooms do you have?’ Lorraine pants.
‘Only four,’ Roz says faux modestly. I look to see if the others are taking this in but no one else is even pretending to listen. ‘It’s quite a small house.’
‘Four. Wow,’ Lorraine says, eyes wide.
I have to stop myself from saying ‘It must be pretty big for a mews house, actually, to have four bathrooms. For any house, to be honest.’ Instead I shuffle my documents loudly and attempt to get the meeting under way.
‘Yes,’ Juliet says, when I ask for order. ‘I have another meeting at eleven. So could you maybe have this chat later?’
Roz sneers at her. ‘Oh, sorry, your maj. I’d hate for you to be late for anything crucial. What is it? The Roedean Old Girls’ Association?’
Juliet ignores her. Roz hates to be ignored.
‘Oh no, judging by the way you’re dressed it must be the Ladies’ Bridge Circle or something glamorous like that.’
Lorraine snorts.
‘Enough,’ I say. ‘Let’s get on.’
When I come out of the meeting I have a missed call from Ashley. She was having her second scan this morning and it took all my willpower to turn my phone on to silent and not to check it every thirty seconds. She hasn’t left a message, which demands I go into a panic that there might be some kind of bad news she wants to break to me in person.
I shut my door and hit her number. She answers immediately.
‘Girl!’ she shouts before I can even say hello.
‘Oh my God! And it – she’s – all OK?’
‘Perfect. You should have seen her …’
I get a lump in my throat. I hate the thought of her going to the hospital alone, having no one to celebrate with. Or at least, no one who’s as invested as she is.
‘I wish I could have come with you.’
‘I’m sending you a picture.’
I put the phone on speaker and then I stare at it, waiting for Ashley’s message to pop up.
‘There. You should get it any second.’
Just as she finishes saying that there’s a beep. I tap on the message, open the photo. It’s a scan; what can I say? A grey blob floating on a grey background. But it’s just about the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
‘That’s my granddaughter!’ A tear edges out of my right eye and splatters on the screen.
‘I know. Isn’t she gorgeous?’ I can hear that she’s crying too.
‘She is,’ I say. I wipe the phone clean, stare at the picture in silence, sharing the moment with my daughter.
About an hour later, when Roz is in a meeting with one of the writers, Juliet taps on my open door. I haven’t spoken to her since we had our conversation about Roz, apart from work essentials, so I’m surprised to see her there.
‘Hi,’ I say, looking up. Despite everything I find myself noticing her shapeless jeans, slightly too short for her low court-shoe heels.
‘OK,’ she says. ‘Watching that performance has made my mind up. I’ll help you.’
‘Really?’ I glance past her at the general office to check no one is listening in, but it’s hard to tell. ‘Shut the door.’
She talks in a stage whisper. I have to strain to hear but, at the same time, I’m worried it’s too loud. ‘No. We shouldn’t talk about it here. Are you free to pop round to mine for a bit after work? It’s only up the road.’
I can’t really imagine anything I’d rather do less. I think about suggesting the pub but I know there’s a chance we’ll bump into someone from work. Lucinda or Janet. Or even Roz herself. How would we ever explain that one away? And I have to admit, I’m curious to see where she lives.
‘OK. It’ll have to be quick though.’
‘Of course,’ she says stiffly. ‘I’m not asking you on a date.’
She gives me the address and directions because, naturally, we don’t want to be seen walking there together. ‘I’ll leave first and then you follow five minutes later,’ she says. We exchange phone numbers in case of any hold-ups.
As soon as she leaves I text Dee: Going to Juliet’s after work. If you don’t hear from me by half seven send help. I get a smiley face in response almost immediately.
By half past five I’m watching Juliet, willing her to make a move, but knowing she’ll never leave this early. At exactly six o’clock she straightens up the papers on her desk and reaches for her jacket. Roz and Lorraine are both sitting at their desks, as is Emma who is starting to pack up for the day too. I keep my head down, listen for Juliet’s ‘Bye’ to Emma and then force myself to stay put. I’m hoping that Roz and Lorraine will leave before me, but when I get up they’re still sitting there.
‘Drink?’ Roz says as I pass.
I pull a face that hopefully implies regret. ‘Can’t, sorry. I’ve got to meet someone. I’m late already.’ I keep moving so there’s no chance she suggests walking out together. ‘See you tomorrow.’
Juliet’s house is only five minutes’ walk away and, thankfully, in the opposite direction to the Tube station where both Roz and Lorraine will be headed later. It’s a street of neat two-storey terraces, yellow brick with bay windows in the front. Tiny front gardens, some lavished with love, some nothing more than a place to put the bins. A couple have been paved over to make parking spaces. Number twenty-six has a wooden fence and a small tree in a round bed with tulips round the bottom. The front door is painted in a tasteful dark red with the number of the house and the letter box in brass. The bay window has white sheer half blinds across the bottom panes. I like it. It’s small but it’s somewhere I’d aspire to live.
I ring the bell. Juliet answers almost before I take my hand away.
‘Nice house,’ I say, by way of greeting. She looks at me suspiciously as if I might be being sarcastic.
‘Come on in.’
I follow her into the small hallway, through a door on the left into the living room. The pale wooden floors are covered by a patterned rug. There’s a small sofa in off-white, a blue armchair and a low dark coffee table. The walls are a warm grey-green. There’s no real individual style, but it’s homely.
‘Oh, do you want a cup of tea or something?’ she says, turning to head out of the room again.
I don’t really want to prolong this any longer tha
n I have to. ‘No, I’m fine.’ I sit on the armchair in the bay. Juliet takes the sofa.
‘OK, so what do you propose?’ she asks.
‘I have no idea,’ I say, realizing as I say it how true this is. ‘I just know I don’t want her to get away with it any more. And you’ve known her even longer than me so … the truth is I can’t do it on my own and I know you dislike her as much as I now do …’
She smiles. ‘Well, there is that.’
‘I need to find something concrete on her. I mean, it might be enough if I can prove half the stuff that comes out of her mouth is fake, but since she’s been working there and doing a good job for five years are they really going to care?’
‘It’s a start,’ she says.
I jump as I hear the front door bang. Juliet doesn’t flinch. ‘That’ll just be Jake.’
OK, so Juliet must have a partner. Or a lodger. Or a cleaner called Jake. I don’t like to ask. But then a tall, gangly teenage boy fills the doorway.
‘Hi, Mum,’ he says and then he spots me. ‘Oh, hello. Sorry, I didn’t see you …’
I cover my confusion with a smile. ‘Hi. I’m Holly.’ I’m not sure whether to hold out a hand for him to shake or whether that feels too weirdly formal. I’m gobsmacked that Juliet has a child. An almost adult giant child.
‘Jake,’ he says with impeccable manners. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
‘There’s cold pizza in the fridge, but I’ll make dinner in a bit.’
‘Splendid,’ he says. He has his mum’s straw-coloured hair but it’s cut in a choppy style with a fringe that flops into his eyes. ‘Nice to meet you, Holly.’
‘You too,’ I say. He strides off and the room immediately feels twice as big. I’m lost for words.
‘Sixteen,’ Juliet says. ‘He grows about a foot a night.’
‘I didn’t …’ I start to say. Can I honestly admit that I’ve worked side by side with her for three years and I had no idea she had a son?
‘You know how people can be about mums at work. You should’ve seen how Roz was about Sally,’ she says. Sally was an editor before I arrived. Roz has often talked scathingly about the way she always put her children before her job. ‘I picked up pretty quickly that she’d use it against me if she knew I had a child so I kept it quiet. People know, obviously. I told them when I applied for the job. I just made a decision never to talk about him in the department. It’s not like it’s a big secret.’
‘I …’ I don’t know what to say. ‘She was always OK with me.’
Juliet sighs. ‘Because Ashley was already, what … eighteen, nineteen, when you started? Jake was only eleven, and I knew there’d be days when I’d have to be late because of him, or take a last-minute day off because he’d forgotten to tell me it was sports day. It just made it easier if I invented other excuses for those things.’
‘I had no idea. Sorry.’
‘You don’t know anything about me, Holly. Because you’ve never asked.’
She’s right, of course. Roz has always made sure Juliet is the department pariah. And I went along with it. Happy to have a common enemy. No one ever really bothers to make an effort with her any more. ‘Sorry,’ I say. I mean it.
‘I’m not asking for an apology. It is what it is. Anyway, I’ll need to get on with cooking in a minute so …’
‘Of course.’ I try to focus on Roz but I’m still trying to take in that Juliet is a mother. ‘And Jake’s dad, is he …?’
‘Not in the picture,’ she says brusquely. So she’s a single mum. Like me. With all the extra stress and worry that that brings. I have so many questions I want to ask her, but I can tell she’s effectively shut down that conversation.
‘Right.’
We sit there for a moment in silence. I can hear Jake moving around in another room. I decide I need to get us back on topic.
‘I just feel as if the more I can unearth about all the lies she’s told the more likely it is I’ll find something that I can use against her.’ I realize how that makes me sound. ‘I’m not a vindictive person …’
‘Save it,’ she says, not unkindly. ‘After what she’s been doing to you I don’t think you have to make excuses for trying to find a way to make her stop, however drastic.’
‘You’ve known her longer than me. Maybe you can think of something she’s said that we could use.’
‘What? Something more than making up a husband and fabulous celebrity-filled life? Is there more, do you think?’
My mouth is dry. I wish I’d said yes to a cup of tea or even a glass of water. ‘There must be. That stuff will embarrass her when everyone finds out but it won’t get her sacked.’
‘If you could prove it was her that tampered with the story conference documents, I suppose …’
‘I can’t, though. And even if I could she’d just claim it was a practical joke.’ I talk her through all the things I think Roz has done – all of which I’ve already told her, but I feel as though I need to keep reminding both her and myself that I’m not going mad, that there really has been a sustained campaign against me. She listens politely. Although her eyebrows do shoot up when I fill her in on Gavin’s plan to confront Hugh.
‘Sounds a bit risky,’ she says. ‘What if he goes straight to Roz and asks her what the hell she’s up to? I would.’
‘I suppose he might want to confront her once he hears all the things she’s been saying about him for years. Gav thinks he can persuade him not to, though. He got the impression that Hugh knows exactly what she’s like.’
‘Just from the way he reacted when your friend said her name?’
When she puts it like that it does seem a bit flimsy. ‘I guess so. Is this a really stupid thing to do?’
‘Probably,’ she says. ‘But it doesn’t sound as if you’ve got much else. Maybe try and work out what would be the worst that could happen if he did tell her and take it from there.’
‘I just feel as if I want to make something happen. Be the proactive one for once instead of waiting around to see what she’ll do to me next.’
Juliet nods. ‘It’s understandable. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t fantasized myself about bursting her bubble from time to time.’
‘Any ideas gratefully received.’
‘There’ll be something. If I can think of anything I’ll let you know. Meanwhile I’ll look forward to hearing how your friend Gavin gets on.’
I feel as if I’m being dismissed and, to be honest, I can’t wait to get out of there. This is a bad idea, I don’t know what I’m doing here. I’m putting my trust in a woman who has nothing but dislike for me. Understandably.
‘OK. Well …’ I’m about to get up and leave when the door opens and Jake reappears bearing a small tray with two mugs of tea and a bowl of sugar. Juliet smiles at him and her face is transformed. I know that look; I recognize it from myself. Pride that your child has done something good without being asked.
‘I was making myself one,’ he says, his face reddening. ‘I took a chance on milk but I wasn’t sure about sugar …’
I want to say no, that I’m just leaving, but I also don’t want to be rude to him. I’m sure that Juliet wants me to leave as much as I want to go, though. In the end, not wanting to be dismissive of a sixteen-year-old who’s made an effort, I take the mug he hands me.
‘Thanks. That’s really kind of you.’
I wave away the offer of sugar. He places the other mug in front of Juliet.
‘Homework …’ he says, pointing up to, I assume, his bedroom.
‘I’ll call you for dinner,’ Juliet says as he retreats.
‘I don’t have to stay and drink this if you need to get on,’ I say, giving her a get-out clause.
‘It’s fine,’ she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. ‘I’ve got ten minutes before I need to do anything.’
Now I really don’t know what to talk about. I’m scared to ask her anything about her life in case she gets defensive, or thinks I’m looking for something to
take the piss out of, so I just sip my scalding tea, burning my throat as it goes down.
‘So I gather Ashley’s father isn’t around either,’ she says suddenly. I jump and almost spill my tea.
‘Um. No. Never has been. Didn’t want to know. We were kids practically …’
She nods. ‘Jake’s father and I got divorced when Jake was three. He has two children with his new wife. I say new wife – they were married a year after we split up. She was his secretary.’
‘Oh,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry.’
She brays a laugh. ‘What a cliché. Anyway, he’s always paid his child support, so that’s something.’
I feel I can risk a personal question. ‘But he doesn’t see Jake?’
She shakes her head. ‘He did for a while but – not that I’m excusing him in the slightest – Alexandra made it very difficult. And then she had two boys of her own so … Jake decided when he was about ten that he’d be better off saying he didn’t want to see him at all. All the let-downs, you know.’
‘Poor kid.’ I’ve just learned more about Juliet’s life in five minutes than I have in the past three years. ‘At least Ashley never had any expectations, I suppose.’
She nods.
‘She’s pregnant, by the way. Ashley. And she’s just split up with her boyfriend.’ I don’t know why I’ve just shared this. Not that it’s a secret but Juliet is not someone I would ever have imagined telling.
She raises her eyebrows. ‘That’s tough.’
‘Yep.’ I drain the last of my tea. Put the mug on the coffee table. Juliet takes that as her cue.
‘Well, I’d better get dinner.’ We both stand. It’s awkward. I feel as though there’s been a bit of a thaw, but you can’t erase three years of animosity in half an hour.
‘Thanks for hearing me out. Say bye to Jake.’
‘I will,’ she says as I leave, none the wiser about whether she really has any intention of trying to help me or not. ‘See you tomorrow.’
28
Dee and Gavin’s plan basically consists of him turning up at Fitzrovia PR and asking to see Hugh. That’s all they’ve got. It’s hardly Ocean’s Eleven but who am I to criticize? I’ve got nothing.