‘There are lots of great restaurants round here that are very reasonable,’ Janet says earnestly. ‘There’s Mr Chow’s Sun Fun Palace, there’s Pizza Nation, there’s Freddy’s Fried Chicken. Anna lent me fifty quid, so we can go wherever you want, really!’
Lily snorts. Ed is looking at Janet as if she’s started speaking Swahili.
‘Um, of course,’ he says. ‘If you really want to.’
‘Or we can find somewhere cheaper,’ says Janet, a bit desperately. ‘I don’t care.’
Lily’s humming under her breath. I realize it’s ‘Hey, Big Spender’. Luckily, Ed seems totally oblivious.
‘OK, you two, have fun!’ I say brightly, pushing them out of the door. ‘I’ll put the flowers in some water for you.’
I wait until I’ve heard the lift creaking its way downstairs then round on Lily.
‘I don’t know why you have to be so mean.’
Lily widens her cornflower-blue eyes. ‘Mean? I’m just trying to help Janet. She may be over the hill and have weight challenges,’ she says delicately, ‘but she could still do better.’
‘Bloody hell—’
The buzzer goes again. ‘Maybe she’s dumped him already. Best thing for everybody,’ Lily says gaily. ‘Hello? Oh, hi, darling,’ she purrs, her voice dropping a couple of octaves. ‘Yes, I’m all ready. Come on up.’ She hangs up and looks at me. ‘Can’t you make yourself scarce, Anna? You’re going to cramp my style, quite frankly.’
‘Oh yes,’ I say sweetly. ‘I’ll make myself as scarce as you did when Brian used to come round, shall I?’
‘God, you’re a cow,’ she says. ‘Oh well, it doesn’t matter. We’ll be off out soon. To Claridges or Nobu or the Ritz, I expect. And then most likely drinks at the Met Bar or something. Don’t wait up.’
‘I wasn’t planning to,’ I say.
Another knock on the door and Henry arrives. Lily shoots me an exultant look as he walks in. He’s wearing an immaculate suit and carrying a bunch of dark red roses.
‘Hello, gorgeous,’ he says to Lily.
‘Hi, Henry,’ Lily purrs. ‘Flowers? For me? How adorable.’ She buries her tiny nose in the glossy dark leaves and gives me a significant look. ‘Let me just go and stick them in some water.’
Henry comes over to me and offers me a kiss on the cheek. ‘Anna, great to see you,’ he says. ‘How did you like the party? Charles never stopped going on about you.’
‘Yes, well. He’s a great guy,’ I say guiltily.
‘Darling,’ says Lily, coming back from the kitchen, ‘give me five minutes to repair my face. Kiss kiss.’
She vanishes into the bathroom again and Henry sits down on the sofa.
‘Tea? Coffee?’
‘Nothing, thanks,’ he says. ‘We should be off any second. Where’s your other friend? Janet, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right,’ I tell him. ‘She just left on a date, actually. With Ed.’
‘Another great bloke,’ says Henry. ‘They should have come out with us.’
I don’t mention Lily’s veto. ‘That would have been nice.’
‘Course, it would have had to be somewhere fairly plain,’ Henry said. ‘And I don’t think Ed’s used to that.’
‘He doesn’t like exotic food?’
‘No, I mean, price-wise. I know a bunch of great places to eat around here, but they’re not exactly first-class. Not what Ed Dawson’s used to.’
‘Oh?’ I ask, moving a bit closer to the edge of my seat. The water’s still running in the bathroom.
‘He rarely goes to any restaurants where there are prices on the woman’s menu, if you know what I mean,’ says Henry, smiling. ‘Got more cash than most Third World nations, that lad.’
‘Ed?’ I ask, just to be sure. ‘But isn’t he a younger cousin? And rents his place?’
‘Oh, yeah, no family money to speak of,’ Henry says. ‘But he’s a stockbroker. Rather a brilliant one. Made his first million while he was still at school. Retired when he was thirty, bought a farm, potters about on it for fun. And he’s renting that flat because his manor house is being rewired.’
I check to see if he’s joking, but he isn’t.
‘But his clothes,’ I protest.
‘Oh, yes.’ Henry grins. ‘Scarecrow chic? Doesn’t surprise me. He has absolutely no idea how to dress. I think he just doesn’t care. Ed’s a very astute art collector, but apparently doesn’t know the name of a single good tailor. Maybe Janet can sort him out a bit. He could use the help.’
‘Really,’ I say, trying not to grin back. ‘How fascinating.’
‘Now I have to be more discerning,’ Henry says. ‘Find good suits on sale, have them altered, wear them until they fall to pieces. I’ve had this for three years,’ he adds, touching the crisp fabric of his suit.
‘So you’re not quite as flush as Ed?’ I ask, then blush. ‘I’m sorry, obviously that’s none of my business.’
‘God, no,’ says Henry. ‘Poor as the proverbial church mouse. If not poorer. At least they aren’t months behind with their bills.’
‘But don’t you work for your family’s estate agency?’
‘I do,’ he says. ‘But I’m not very good at it. Don’t make all that much. I’m thinking about trying to do something else. I have to stay there, though, just to pay off my credit card bills.’ He sighs. ‘Taking quite a while, too.’
‘But your family…’
‘They’re just cousins,’ he says. ‘Father was in the army, retired on a pretty measly pension. Took everything he had to pay my school bills. Oh well. I’ll have to find something proper to do for a career eventually,’ he says. ‘I suppose I can’t really go on like this at my age.’
‘What do you like doing?’
‘Music,’ he says, blushing slightly. ‘I used to play the cello a bit. Of course, that doesn’t pay the bills either. I tell you, I’m quite pleasantly surprised a girl like Lily would go out with me.’
‘Ahm. Yes.’
‘Most girls in her position seem to look for something a bit more substantial.’
Lily sticks her head out of the door. ‘Ready!’ she says brightly. ‘Where are we off to?’
‘D’you like Moroccan?’ Henry asks.
‘Love it,’ Lily says, flouncing out of the bathroom and pirouetting for his approval. ‘Where did you have in mind? Momo’s?’
‘I was thinking more of Dhelirious,’ he says. ‘It’s a funky little dive off Earl’s Court. Great atmosphere, great food, no liquor licence so bring your own booze. I thought we could stop at an off-licence, pick up something robust, make a night of it.’
‘A little dive?’ Lily asks, her voice strained. Then she gives a sexy little wriggle and beams at him. ‘But that’s so adventurous of you! Don’t you think it’s adventurous of him, Anna?’
‘Absolutely,’ I say. ‘In fact, the whole evening should be a real adventure for you, Lily.’
‘Let’s go,’ Henry says to her.
‘There’ll be no problem finding a taxi,’ Lily asks. ‘Will there?’
‘Tube’s quicker anyway,’ says Henry.
‘The tube,’ Lily says, faintly. ‘How delightful! I haven’t been on public transport for years.’
‘Bye,’ I say, waving them off merrily. ‘Have a great time, you two.’
They walk out, Henry sliding his thumb and forefinger into the small of her back, and Lily giving a pleasurable little shudder at the touch. Henry’s quite different to all the rich, ugly old goats she goes out with. I just wonder what the fireworks are going to be like when she finds out just how different.
I pick up the receiver and call my parents. Oh great, another slap in the face; they’re on holdiay for a week. How could I have forgotten the annual trip to Greece? They rent that tiny townhouse with the roof terrace and don’t leave their sunbeds except to go to the beach, and then come back every year with red, peeling skin and a stomach infection. I could get the spare key off Mrs Watley, the next door neighbour, but that would involv
e having to sit in her doily-filled ‘front parlour’ and have my life dissected for forty-five minutes. And I can’t be bothered. So I’ll have to gut it out here for another week. What the hell, I’ve paid the damn rent.
I’m all alone in the flat. I make a cup of coffee and try to think calmly about what to do. First, there’s housekeeping. I call Vanna, explain I can’t marry Charles, don’t mention Swan – no need to make even more of a fool of myself. She’s wonderfully sympathetic, offers to come round (no thanks), offers to send back all the engagement gifts (yes please).
‘Don’t worry about a thing, darling,’ she says. ‘I’ll take care of them.’
‘Thanks, hon,’ I say. ‘I’m really grateful. And I’m sorry you spent all that money.’
‘Don’t be! It was a great party and anyway, I’ve got pots of it. Speaking of which, would you like some? Just to tide you over.’
Oh dear, I’m going to cry again. I grab a tissue and blow my nose. ‘That’s OK,’ I say.
‘Well, consider coming to work for me. I can always use an extra assistant. Good pay, no coffee making. I’ll teach you the business, give you some books to read, promote you,’ Vanna offers.
‘Wow. That’s – that’s really kind of you.’
‘So you’ll come? You’re not without resources, Anna. You’ve got friends.’
I swallow down the lump in my throat. ‘Darling, Vanna. But no, I don’t think so. At least, not yet.’
‘Why not? Don’t let pride get in the way.’
‘Oh, it’s not that. It’s just that I don’t want to work in publishing,’ I tell her. ‘I – I want to be a screenwriter.’
‘Well, if you change your mind…’
I hang up on her feeling really grateful. OK, I may not have a place to live, a job, or a man, but at least I’ve got friends. Vanna, and Janet. And Charles.
His words from last night come back to me, but I shove them away.
I can’t tell Mark Swan. I can’t face him. I don’t want to see him ever again. Stop that! Think about something else. Think about your non-existent career.
It’s time to see if I can hack it or not.
On my own.
Even though I feel kind of stupid and pretentious, like who am I kidding, who do I think I am, I refuse to let it bother me. I go into the bathroom and wash my hair, blow-dry it and put my make-up on. I change into one of Janet’s more comfortable choices, the black Zara pants with the crisp white polo shirt and the cute little black heels. Even though I’m not going anywhere today, or seeing anybody, this isn’t about that. It’s about looking as good as I possibly can for me.
My heart’s broken and I have no money and no prospects, but there’s still this little kernel of something, somewhere inside me.
I’ve got my friends. And I believe in myself.
I open up my ancient laptop, boot it up, slot in the floppy disk. A couple of clicks and a script page appears on my screen. I take a deep breath, and type: FADE IN.
14
The atmosphere in the flat has been poisonous lately. Janet’s been moving out, and ever since Lily discovered how stinking rich Ed is, she’s been too jealous to speak to her. A procession of new, and thankfully vile, potential room-mates are forever traipsing round our rooms, I’m trying to rewrite and not think about Mark (yeah, right), and now Henry and Lily have stormed back in, slamming doors and fighting, and concentration’s just impossible.
Lily is shouting. She’s wearing a tiny, red, flippy dress with spaghetti straps, matching heels and a flimsy little chiffon scarf, and she really does look beautiful when she’s angry.
‘Remind me again,’ she bellows. ‘Why the fuck am I dating you?’
I try to hide myself behind the Evening Standard.
Henry follows her into the flat, and closes the door.
‘I have no idea,’ he says, quite calmly. ‘But don’t feel under any obligation to continue.’
Lily smoulders at him.
‘Excuse us,’ he says apologetically to me.
‘Oh, don’t mind me,’ I say, pretending to be busy reading. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.
‘Why would he mind you? When he doesn’t even mind me?’ Lily spits. ‘I arrive at the bloody restaurant and he’s leaving!’
‘You were thirty-five minutes late.’
‘Traffic,’ Lily snaps. ‘Ever heard of it?’
Henry sighs. ‘I told you, if you were late you should call my mobile. You didn’t call.’
‘I forgot,’ says Lily, tossing her hair.
‘We can do it some other time,’ Henry says.
‘You should have waited for me!’ Lily screeches, stamping her foot. ‘You’re a sexist pig!’
‘Oh, really?’ Henry demands coolly. ‘This is the third time this week you’ve turned up late for a date. Are you in the habit of doing this with every man you’ve ever dated?’
Absolutely.
‘Of course not,’ spits Lily. ‘And anyway, I’m worth it.’
‘Not to me, darling,’ says Henry. ‘Goodbye.’
Lily stands rooted to the spot as he turns and walks towards the door. Then she springs, like a cat, grabbing him by the shoulders and spinning him round.
‘Do you think you can talk to me like that?’ she demands. ‘I’m Lily Venus! I’m a top model and men are begging to go out with me! Who the hell do you think you are?’
‘Somebody who’s not interested in a spoilt little girl playing head games, and doing it badly,’ Henry says. He looks Lily over, not in the usual way men do, but more sort of considerately.
‘It’s a shame,’ he says. ‘Because underneath all the hostility and childishness I think there might be an interesting person. On the other hand, I’m certainly not going to bother to stick around through the tantrums to find out.’
‘I can’t believe I slept with you!’ Lily shrieks at him. ‘Do you even know how many guys would kill for the chance to be with me?’
‘Not all that many,’ Henry says drily, ‘once they’d had you. You’re half frigid. And you’re not going to enjoy yourself until you drop all these sad little walls you’ve built up.’
‘I’m the best thing you’ve ever had,’ Lily hisses.
‘You’re not even in the top fifty per cent,’ says Henry. ‘I’m amazed I actually stuck it out this long, in fact. Histrionics and tantrums don’t do it for me.’
Lily pauses, trying to think of a good riposte. You can almost see the hamster wheels turning in her brain.
‘You’re poor,’ she says finally, with deadly venom. This is about the worst insult Lily can muster. ‘You come in here with your good suits and your fun little restaurants, but you don’t make anything, you couldn’t even afford the Ritz!’
‘Of course I couldn’t,’ says Henry. ‘When did you last check the prices there?’
‘You don’t have any money!’ Lily accuses. ‘Ed’s got more money than you do!’
‘He’s got more money than the Bank of England,’ says Henry. ‘So what?’
‘A scrub like you can’t afford a girl like me,’ says Lily, devastatingly.
Henry shakes his head. ‘Lily,’ he says, ‘you’re never going to get a man until you stop talking like a high-priced hooker.’
Ouch.
‘I could get anyone I wanted tomorrow,’ Lily snaps.
Henry walks over to her and kisses her lightly on the mouth. Lily is completely shocked, too shocked to do anything. It’s very sexy, actually.
‘Well,’ Henry says, licking the taste of her off his lips, ‘good luck with that, baby.’
And then he really does turn and walk out of the door.
Lily and I both stay completely still, listening to his footsteps disappear down the stairs.
‘He’ll be back,’ says Lily.
‘He won’t, you know,’ I say. ‘Maybe you should go after him.’
‘Me? Run after some poor chump with holes in his shoes?’ Lily laughs savagely. ‘I don’t think so, darling.’
‘You seem pretty upset,’ I comment.
‘I’m not,’ Lily says. ‘Well, I am, but only because he was so mean and nasty. Coming from a man with no loot. What a total waste of time.’
She storms into the kitchen and I hear the fridge opening. Lily pops a bottle of champagne. She thinks no real model should ever be without at least one bottle in the fridge, and I must admit it’s come in handy in emergencies.
‘Want some?’ she asks. ‘I’m celebrating getting rid of that loser.’
‘Henry’s not a loser,’ I say. ‘Just because he wouldn’t stand for it.’
‘Wouldn’t stand for it?’ she splutters, shoving a glass of Bollinger into my hand. ‘Puh-leese, I’m a few minutes late, fashionably late, and, you know…’
‘And what?’
‘I send back a few dishes, I order a few extra things, that sort of thing,’ Lily says, flicking her hair again. ‘He doesn’t understand. I’m a diva. Frankly, it was an incredible concession just to see him, once I worked out he doesn’t have anything.’ She laughs bitterly. ‘Think of it! Me, getting dumped by a poor person!’
‘Diva is just a politically correct word for a spoiled bitch, Lily,’ I say. ‘Clearly you really like the guy. Why don’t you just call him and apologize and start over?’
‘Date that sexist pig? He called me a hooker!’
‘You called yourself a hooker, you said he couldn’t afford you.’
‘God, you’re such a prig, Anna,’ says Lily. ‘It’s obvious what I mean. I intend to marry rich, not marry some broke chancer.’
‘And how is that not hooking?’
‘It’s one man. It’s marriage. It’s been done that way since … since forever,’ she adds for emphasis.
‘Trophy wives are just hookers with one john, if you ask me.’
‘Well, I didn’t,’ snaps Lily. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be giving me support in my decision?’
‘It looked like his decision.’
‘I would have finished it in a couple of days anyway,’ says Lily firmly. ‘I can’t date a man who expects me to eat in nasty little dives.’
‘Look,’ I say to her. ‘Chasing rich guys hasn’t worked out for you, has it? You’ve gone from one rich guy to the next, never staying with anybody more than a month, and none of them proposed. Plus, you’re still here, in this flat. And you finally find a man you like, someone who won’t put up with your shit, which is exactly what you need—’
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