“Fantastic. Bloody fantastic!” Saff yelped, and watched as Alex then made her way into the crowd to talk to the astonished journalists. As the groups parted, Saff could see a smallish black man in shades and a loose jacket and trousers. On his fingers were a mass of rings and there were chains around his neck. Surrounding him were huge men in suits who had to be minders, and a growing crowd of photographers and onlookers, but he was too deep in conversation with the small girl standing beside him and chatting animatedly to notice. Saff could sense Max standing beside her. “Who is that Millie is talking to?” she asked in horror.
“I am reliably informed by Oscar, who is pea-green with envy, that it is a character called Dizzy Zee, who, Daaad,” he mimicked, “is only like the coolest hip-hop singer in the universe.”
“Crikey, that’s a coup. Was he invited?”
“I believe not. He slipped in during the show. A friend of Bettina’s apparently. Alex looks as surprised as anyone.”
“Well.” Saff looked around her as the crowd began to mill about, some being escorted by press reps for interviews, others beginning to leave. “Do you suppose they all want some more breakfast?”
“There’s not much left for them to eat. I think we’re virtually cleaned out. A woman from some snooty magazine asked me which company I worked for because they had a magazine event coming up.” He put his hand in his back pocket and pulled out her card. “Here you are.”
Saff took it and laughed out loud. “Jeeez. That’s a biggie. Shame. That would be fun!”
“But why’s it a shame? Why can’t you do it?” Max insisted.
“ ’Cos I can’t, silly. This was just a one-off emergency to help Alex.”
Max put his hands on her shoulders. “Darling, I have never seen you look so excited by anything as you were last night putting this together. You were loving it, weren’t you?”
Saff looked down, a bit embarrassed. “Yes, I was really.”
“Then why not think about doing it more seriously? We’ll get the kitchen all up to standards—even rent you a little unit if you like—and you can cater events at Offcut and we’ll get your name out there. Alex will help, I’m sure. And you can do it when you want so you can still be there for the children.” Saff watched the excitement in Max’s eyes. “I’ve been worried about you, but I didn’t know what to say. What to suggest. Then, when I watched you last night I realized you were missing a challenge. How about it?”
So he had noticed, and for once this was about her, about what she wanted to do, about what she could do. She threw her arms around Max’s neck, tears in her eyes.
Chapter 51
Alex had waited behind awhile at the venue to answer questions and make sure all the promised interviews had been completed—The Times took ages—and she’d seen Bettina off back to her hotel, accompanied by Dizzy Zee, who’d kissed Alex and declared the show to be “awesome” and could she send some stuff over to his hotel? Sanferino had shaken and almost dislocated her hand and, with a deep rolling laugh, had announced he could quite “dig” being a model. Of Frankie and Ella there was no sign.
“Have you seen them?” Alex asked the Bean, who was at her side. “Only I need to say thanks.”
“Perhaps they’ve gone home, darling. The poor boy must be exhausted after his midnight flit, and then he was holed up with Gavin and Camilla and a very tall security guard for quite some time. How exciting! He told me all about it.”
“Did he get to see the show?” Somehow it was important to her that he had.
“Oh yes, he stood with me. Quite the strangest outfits but I suppose they have a certain charm. I’d quite like a pair of those shoes in nectarine.”
“Then, Mum, you shall have a pair. And in fuchsia and lemon and anything you want. I am so grateful to you.”
“Not bad for an old has-Bean, am I?” Her face was questioning, searching Alex’s for reassurance.
“Certainly not. You are my favorite Bean.” She brushed back a stray hair from her mother’s face. “I think I have realized I can’t do all this on my own. You know, be Miss Independent. Sometimes it’s good to let people help. I know I couldn’t have managed without you.” She could feel a lump in her throat. “Now get yourself off to bed before I get all soppy.”
The Bean kissed her daughter on her forehead. “And that wouldn’t do, would it, Alex, my dear? I’m so proud of you, my clever little girl.” And she laughed and walked away. Suddenly Alex felt her feet go from under her as she was scooped off the floor.
“Babe, you were brilliant. Awesome!” Todd spun her around. “The New York Times is enchanted. Vanity Fair is nagging for show pics and Miss Ice Cold from The L.A. Times even smiled!”
Alex returned his kiss, but his mouth tasted stale. “So you managed to keep them all happy? Nagging me paid off then?”
“Oh, come now. I’ve gotta do my job. It’s publicity you want, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Todd, it is.”
“Now, how about dinner later? Let me follow up all these requests…” He held up his file. “Then you and me will go somewhere lovely and celebrate.” He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Your bed would be a good start.”
She pulled away slightly and there, over Todd’s shoulder, she could see Frankie disappearing out of the building. Alex flinched as Todd nibbled her earlobe. “Er, perhaps not tonight, hey? I’m very tired and there will be loose ends to sort out.” She smiled weakly at his puzzled expression. “I’ll call you sometime.” And almost barging him out of the way, she dashed for the door after Frankie, fending off people trying to stop her and shake her hand. She needed to see him. To say thank you. To say anything. Just to see him. Which way had he gone?
As she heaved open the swing doors, she was faced with a pavement full of people and crowds pushing against the security barriers for one last peek at the celebrities. And through the crowd she could just make out Frankie’s and Ella’s heads through the back window of a departing taxi. Suddenly the exhaustion of the past few hours caught up with her and she could feel herself slump.
Back at the office things were not as she had left them last night. As they all poured back in from the launch there was chatter and laughter. Phones rang incessantly and people called their colleagues across the room for information, more details on prices, earliest dates for supplies. People slapped Alex on the back as she arrived. Even the receptionist seemed to have heard it had gone well and smiled warmly. As Alex approached her desk, there was a small crowd gathered around it.
“Is this the welcoming committee?” she laughed as she dropped her bag, but none of them appeared to be smiling. Alex followed their gaze to the top of her desk. Her laptop, or at least what was left of it, was strewn across it, the lid smashed and twisted, the contents spewed out like roadkill. Papers had been ripped and hurled about, save one on which was written “Fucking bitch.” Alex looked over at Camilla’s desk, which was completely clear because anything on it had been swept onto the floor, and its surface had been scratched deeply with something sharp. “Oh dear,” Alex said lamely. “I take it she’s not here.”
“No. She came back to clear her desk and went beserk.” Gavin approached from his office. “We had to call the police, though I probably should have done so straightaway. She’s with them now—I’m sorry you had to see this, Alex. Come on, people.” He turned to the crowd and put on a mock American accent. “There’s nothing for you here. Go back to your lives. Alex, in my office?” She followed him, leaving the carnage behind and Peter, who, ironically, was beginning to pick up papers from the floor. Gavin shut the door behind him, but didn’t sit down. Instead he did his characteristic twitching, moving papers and fidgeting. “Did you have any inkling?” he asked without preamble.
“About Camilla? Not a clue. I thought it was Peter, to be honest. How do you know about it?”
“Some girl, I think you know her, made me wear an earpiece, so I heard what you heard. Who was she and how was Frankie involved? I thought he was just a
postgrad student.”
“They’re friends of mine. Good friends, and I asked them to help me because I had suspicions.”
“They were great. I think we should employ them. I have to say I’m staggered though and I think I owe you an apology.” This time he did sit down, and leaned back in his seat. “You have been stitched up by that girl.”
“I should have noticed.” Alex walked over and looked out the window at the river. “I should have got suspicious earlier, but she was so clever, always making things appear as if they were my fault and then offering helpfully to sort them out. I’ve been thinking about it in the taxi back from the show. When she looked at her old e-mails when I asked her about the timing of the Turkey courier, she can’t have been looking at anything at all. She must have sent an e-mail changing the time as if it was from me and then deleted it.” She leaned her head against the glass. “I’ve been such a fool! Frankie must have realized when he got to Turkey.”
“Frankie went to Turkey?”
Alex explained what had happened and Gavin raised his eyebrows in amazement. “What a man! We’d better make sure we pay him handsomely for that. And what about the newspaper exclusives—and Scorch. Did she screw that up too?”
“Must have done. And delaying Bettina’s car this morning.” Another thought occurred to her. “And maybe even the Claridge’s suite mess-up. I should have thought it a bit odd the way she kept wanting access to my laptop.” Alex paused, her head filling with clues now. “The screwup with the press pack—I wonder if that was anything to do with her?” She sighed. It was incredible really. “I’ve been too trusting and all the time she was after my job. But hell, Gavin, she was my assistant. I had to delegate.”
“Of course you did. And that’s how it should have been. If it’s any consolation, there is no way I’d have given her your job. She wouldn’t have been right. Camilla didn’t have a tenth of the initiative and motivation you have, Alex. Today was superb and the feedback already is magnificent. We’re looking at a significant raise for you, and let’s not see if we can’t get you a wider brief, hey?” He smiled. “Maybe Europe? Though I’d hate to lose you in the UK. Better still, give me some more ideas? What have you got up that sleeve of yours?”
“Well.” Alex looked at Gavin, about to share her idea for the senior sportswear range, but something made her hesitate and she felt anger rise. It made her rash. “You know, Gavin, you haven’t really been very supportive of me during all this, have you? But that doesn’t seem to matter now it’s all gone well.”
Gavin’s eyebrows were raised in astonishment. “Well, you…” he blustered.
She plowed on. “But it matters to me. You were so quick to think the worst of me. So keen to undermine and discredit me in front of everyone, shouting at me across the office. You didn’t give me time to explain, you just piled on the pressure.”
“Yes, but you came through. That’s what matters.”
Alex shook her head slowly. “It’s pretty sloppy management, I think. Let’s see, shall we? I’ve got some mulling over to do, then I’ll let you know what I think of your offer.” And she walked out of the office, leaving Gavin with his mouth hanging open.
Alex fielded calls for the rest of the morning, even during a celebratory crayfish-and-arugula sandwich and small plastic beaker of bubbly someone had produced at her desk. IT had swooped and were attempting mouth-to-mouth on her laptop hard disk. In the meantime she took and made calls of congratulations, including one to Donatella and an interesting one from a headhunter who would “love to take her out to lunch when the dust has settled.”
“Guys, get this.” It was Peter, who burst through the door brandishing the Evening Standard. He let out a whoop of delight and within seconds people were around him, but he held up the paper so Alex could see. “Get a load of this!”
There, on the front page, was a color picture of Dizzy Zee, all teeth and bling, with his arm around an ecstatic Bettina in crop top, the company logo in full view. “Zencorp’s new look set to go mega,” shouted the caption. “Full launch story page 3.”
“Wow, and look at my sneakers! This has to be worth a hundred percent raise for both of us,” laughed Peter smugly. “And a company Beemer!”
Alex felt her arms goosebump with excitement. This was the very best she could have hoped for. It had been not just a success but a triumph. Her future was looking great.
So why was Frankie the only person she wanted to celebrate with?
Chapter 52
Ella finished her Rice Krispies, then washed up her bowl and spoon. She paused and listened. Still no sound from Frankie’s bedroom. He’d disappeared in there when they got back from the launch and by the time Ella had gotten home again, after returning the equipment to Mike and taking him out for lunch to thank him, and then going out to supper with him after a delicious afternoon in bed so he could thank her for taking him out for lunch, Frankie was fast asleep in his room. She’d found the cold remains of a pizza, which she polished off, an empty bottle of red wine lay on its side next to the sofa and his glass stood unwashed on the draining board. It was all looking very bad. Worst of all, The Deer Hunter was in the DVD player. When he put a heart-tugger like that on things were serious. Ella had shrugged sadly as she’d cleared up after him.
Should she sneak out quietly and leave him be, or wake him with a cup of tea? The phone rang. She answered quickly, to give him a chance to sleep it off, and a voice she recognized sounded in her ear. “I need to speak to Frankie, please. Urgently. Is he there?”
“Oh hi, Marina. It’s his sister, Ella. Er—he’s not available at the moment, I’m afraid. Can I get him to call you back?”
Ella could hear loud tutting. “Well, can I get him on his mobile? I’ve got to get back to them as soon as possible, you see.”
“Hang on. Who? What are you talking about?”
“Darling, I’m the agent, not you. Just get him to call me back straightaway, will you?”
“Oh hang on,” Ella bluffed. “I think I hear him coming back in. Hold on a moment, can you?” She laid the phone down gently and crashed into Frankie’s room. God! It smelled like student digs. “Frankie!” She shook him urgently by the shoulder. “Frankie! Wake up, you old wino! That agent of yours is on the phone. She says it’s urgent. Come on, Frankie!”
He rolled out of bed and onto the floor, squinting at her with bloodshot eyes. “Wha’? Wha’sa? Eugh! If you’re winding me up I’m gonna wring your neck. Hand me the phone.” He cleared his throat with difficulty and she ran to the kitchen to get him a glass of fresh water. He nodded his thanks, then took the phone. “Marina. Whassup? Yeah, it is me—honest. Oh, just a virus, I think.” He took a long swig of water. Ella hovered by the door, watching him cautiously. He suddenly looked awake. “Yes? Yes? Yes? NO! You’re kidding! I thought… Well, yes, absolutely. Of course! When do rehearsals start? You bet! Yes, I can come in later. Well, what can I say? That’s terrific news. Thank you very much. I will. I will. Bye!”
Ella looked questioningly at him, not daring to ask, when he leaped to his feet, grabbed her hands and started jumping around, still dressed in yesterday’s underpants and socks. “I’ve got it! I’ve got the part! I’m gonna be Joel. We’re starting rehearsals in three weeks! How bloody fantabydoozy is that. Eh?”
Ella laughed and laughed as they cavorted around the room. “You clever old thing. I knew you’d make it! I just knew it. Oh, Frankie, I’m so proud of you. I didn’t think anything could be as exciting as that launch, but this is even better.”
Frankie paced the kitchen, muttering, “I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it” and clapping his hands together, then doing a funny goal-scoring jig. Ella fully expected him to pull his T-shirt over his head any minute.
“Right!” Ella grabbed the kettle and started to fill it. “Today you are a star, and must be treated in the manner to which you’ll probably become accustomed. I’ll make the tea. I’ll even make your toast. And I’ll even spread it all nicely f
or you. Are you going to call the Bean?”
Frankie stopped pacing and frowned. He rubbed his unshaven chin for a moment. “Yeah, ’course I will, when I’ve had my tea. And the boys. And Saff too, of course.” He paused for a moment. “Gosh, this is what I’ve always dreamed of. And now I’ve got it. I’ve done it, Ella.” He smiled at her. “Funny, isn’t it? I thought… well, never mind.”
Something wasn’t quite right, but Ella couldn’t put a finger on what exactly. She looked at him anxiously. This didn’t look like a man who’d just achieved his lifelong ambition. She placed a mug of tea in front of him. “And will you tell Alex?” she asked gently.
“What do you mean? Oh! I need this.” He took a long swallow and sighed with contentment.
“Are you going to call and tell her?”
“Yeah, probably. Well, maybe not. She may not even know I was going up for it, so it’d be a bit pointless. Maybe Saff will say something to her.”
“Frankie…”
He took the plate of toast and marmalade from her hands and looked her straight in the eye. “Not now, Ells. Just drop it, would you?”
Chapter 53
Alex held the painting up over the fireplace. Yes, it would look good there. The bright slashes of color looked even more dramatic against the plain walls. It was just what the room needed. A bit of life. As the phone rang, she leaned it back up against the sofa.
“Hi, it’s Saff. Whatcha doing?”
Alex smiled. “You’re not going to believe this, but I’m trying to hang a painting.”
“What? A new one? A real one?”
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