by Joan Carter
“Yes. I not only admire her, I really enjoy her company. It’s funny how friendships develop, isn’t it?”
“Oh, no,” said Gilles, “guess who’s turned up? What do you call them – bad pennies?”
“Pardon?” said Imogen. “I don’t quite get…”
“Hello there,” said Tim. “What a coincidence. I just popped in for a spot of breakfast.”
“What was it you said, Imogen?” said Gilles. “It’s funny how things happen?”
CHAPTER 28
“Dinner was wonderful,” said Imogen, “but I think it’s best I jump in a cab.”
“Are you sure?” said Tim. “I have my car in the multi-storey over the road.”
“Thank you, but I have quite a few things to sort out for tomorrow. Sebastian wants me in very early. Now that all the shoots are finished, we need to edit everything and get it ready for the launch. And besides…”
“Besides what?” said Tim, as if he knew.
Imogen couldn’t say that she felt that things were moving too fast with Tim – or that she wasn’t sure whether she wanted them to move at all. “Besides, Sebastian isn’t very keen on his staff getting too friendly with the natives, as he puts it.” It was a weak excuse and she knew it.
“Thank you,” said Tim, laughing. “I’ve never been called a native before.” He knew what Imogen was trying to tell him, though, and backed off. “I’m giving myself a bit of a morning off, tomorrow. Then, after lunch, much as with your team, we’re having a review and hoping to press the button for the whole project.”
“I think that the next few months are going to be very exciting, but also very tiring, for both of us,” said Imogen.
“Yes, but I hope that we manage to keep some contact on a personal level,” said Tim. Imogen just smiled. “By the way,” Tim continued, “I told Tarquin that he could maybe have some time with us while it’s really busy. That’s if you and Sebastian can spare him.”
“Sebastian is very fair. He wouldn’t hold Tarquin back.”
“I’ve come to like Tarquin. I think his enthusiasm will mean that he does well.”
“You wouldn’t have said that when he first arrived,” said Imogen. “He was the original grunting teenager.”
“Well, he’s not now,” said Tim. “Anyway, I’d better let you go. There’s a cab.” He hailed it.
“Thank you so much for dinner,” said Imogen, as she climbed in.
“We must repeat it,” said Tim, closing the door.
Imogen sat in the back of the cab as it drove off. She was relieved to get away. She felt as though she’d been on a rollercoaster over the past few days. She needed time to think.
“At last,” she said.
Imogen knew that one of the reasons she felt uneasy was Ned. She hadn’t phoned him in three days. That had happened before, but usually there was a good reason for it. Also, the fact that he hadn’t tried to contact her spoke volumes. She’d upset him. She’d got a bit blown away by Tim, but what she’d said about Sebastian was true. He’d always frowned on what he called ‘Dipping one’s pen in the company ink’ – bringing romance into the workplace.
The relief was palpable when Imogen pushed open her front door and flopped onto her sofa. She decided that after the recent hyperactive pace at work and in her personal life, she needed time to get her flat, and her mind, straight. A long bath and a glass of wine were all she could face at that moment.
She noticed that her answerphone was flashing. She pressed play, automatically expecting to hear Ned, but it was Juliette.
“Hi, Imogen,” she said. “I hear things have been going very well for your magazine and in more ways than one. I’ll tell you how I know when I see you. Let’s get together for coffee. I have some interesting news – and, anyway, it will be good to see you.”
Imogen was very pleased to get the message. It seemed that she had made two French friends from her recent work. This was very satisfying, but there were other matters still to be sorted out. Resolving to get to grips with it all the following morning, she began to get ready for her bath and started thinking about what to wear tomorrow.
*****
“Imogen, we’re having a meeting first thing, so don’t be late.” Imogen only received the text as she pushed open the doors to the office – she’d rather been trying to avoid her phone – but, luckily, she wasn’t late. Crashing out and a good night’s sleep had left her feeling a lot better.
“Oh good, darling, you got my message,” said Sebastian, when he spotted her. “Our meeting is about to start.”
Imogen looked at Tarquin, who was already at his desk. They’d never had a meeting before – except with clients, of course. Sebastian really was getting carried away. Imogen had to smother a smile as Sebastian pulled two chairs in front of his desk and handed them papers.
“Shall I take the minutes?” volunteered Tarquin.
Again, Imogen found herself smiling. Tarquin was being facetious.
“Thank you,” said Sebastian, “although I think that some rough notes will do. Now, first of all, well done. I think we pulled together and did a very good job at short notice. These opportunities don’t present themselves very often, but when one did we rose to the occasion. Of course, if you work at your contacts and get out and about, things are more likely to happen. I mean, had we not made contact with Gilles at the Chorégies…”
Imogen was itching to ask who “we” were, but decided it was better not to.
“Shall I write all this down?” asked Tarquin, still being cheeky.
“Oh, no,” said Sebastian, “it’s just by way of introduction.”
“Oh, right,” said Tarquin, putting his pen down very pointedly.
“Anyway,” said Sebastian, “that’s enough of that.” Imogen and Tarquin exchanged glances. “We need to form a battle plan,” continued Sebastian, “to decide what needs to be done and in what order.”
“Shall I get some coffee?” asked Imogen.
“Good idea,” said Sebastian. “I’d better have a double shot.”
*****
As Sebastian went out to lunch, he said, “I’d cancel if I could as we’re under so much pressure. There’s no point in losing our contacts, however. One always needs to look where the next job is coming from.”
“Which translates as ‘I’ve had enough and need a boozy lunch’,” Imogen said to Tarquin.
“I’m a bit concerned,” said Tarquin. “Tim Harper has offered me some time working with his team. I’d love to do it, but I will be needed here, I feel.”
“I’m sure we can sort it out,” said Imogen. “It’s a great chance for you. We’ll just have to cut back on Sebastian’s lunches, if necessary. It’s very good of Tim to ask you.”
“Oh, I think I know why he’s done it,” said Tarquin, “and it’s not actually got much to do with my talents. Still, I can’t afford to turn down such an opportunity.”
“I think you’re wrong,” said Imogen, in an even tone. “I know what you’re implying, but he actually told me that he’s been very impressed by your work. I wouldn’t be totally surprised if a job offer were to materialise at some stage.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes, and you’d have to go for it. The people he works with are very highly regarded. They are used in many of the top opera houses in the world.”
“I tell you who was there the other day when I dropped some photos off,” said Tarquin. “Juliette, the girl you profiled for your ‘New Faces’ series.”
“How interesting. Why was she there?”
“She was auditioning to understudy. The part she was after, Susanna, in The Marriage of Figaro, would be the most important break she’s had so far. She’s really praying that she gets it. Tim told me he thinks she’s pretty good.”
“You’re more in the know than m
e, now,” said Imogen, laughing. “Actually, that reminds me. Now that we’ve got our diaries mapped out, I’ll ring her. I need to get my life back.”
*****
“Over here,” called Imogen, as Juliette entered the restaurant in Hampstead. Juliette had volunteered to venture up to Hampstead on the Northern line as she ‘felt like a change of scene’.
“Love the dress,” said Imogen, as Juliette took off her coat to reveal a pretty, skimpy, floral wrap dress in lemon and pale blue. She wore it with silvery tights and silver ballet pumps. Imogen, knowing that she would be facing stiff competition, was wearing a pale blue cashmere sweater with grey wool trousers. Going for the classic style, she had decided, would be less hassle than trying to compete with Juliette’s ultra boho look.
“Thank you,” said Juliette, as she settled into her seat. “I must tell you, I’m on top of the world. I’ve just got taken on to understudy Susanna in Marriage of Figaro and there’s a chance I might get another minor solo role of my own.”
“Fantastic,” said Imogen.
“This is the biggest breakthrough in my career so far, so I’m paying tonight,” said Juliette.
“We’ll see,” said Imogen, with a forced smile. She felt pleased for Juliette, but at the same time her ebullience gave Imogen a sinking feeling. “I’m afraid I don’t have any breakthroughs to report in my life. Why don’t we order first?”
“Yes, I’m really hungry,” said Juliette, “but I’m going to be careful. I need to be in tip-top form over the next few months. Let’s look at the salads.”
*****
“Well, I’m all ears,” said Imogen. “You said you have lots of news.”
“Yes and I know most of yours, too! Tim Harper has been keeping me in touch.”
“Of course. He’s a great networker, isn’t he?”
“That’s the main reason why I asked you to meet me, to be honest,” said Juliette.
“Really?” Juliette’s manner made her feel uneasy.
“Well, he’s great and handsome and dynamic, of course – plus charming!”
“Not bad,” said Imogen, laughing.
“And I think he’ll go a long way in the world of opera.”
“He’s got pretty far already.” Imogen couldn’t work out where all this was leading.
“He’s also very enamoured of you.”
“Oh, really?” said Imogen. So this was what Juliette really wanted to discuss.
“Once he knew we were acquainted, he never stopped mentioning you.”
“I see.” Although she didn’t.
“So,” said Juliette, “taking everything in, and knowing that he had asked you out to dinner, I thought you should know that one of his other achievements is that he is married.”
Imogen tried to appear unaffected, but her stomach was churning. Thank goodness she had decided to play a cautious hand when dealing with Tim.
“He puts it about that the marriage isn’t working, but he still lives with his wife, and not so long ago I saw them together at the cinema.”
“I really don’t know what to say,” said Imogen, who could easily have burst into tears. “We weren’t an item or anything.”
“Exactly. I would have found it more difficult to tell you if I thought you had begun a serious relationship. To be frank, it’s not just you. I hear he has been sniffing around Sophie Lemet as well. I think there are others, too. He should be directing Don Giovanni and playing the lead himself.”
Imogen took a moment to reflect, then, “I’m actually so grateful to you for telling me all this,” she said. “It’s quite a shock, as you can imagine. I feel I’ve been so very stupid, in a number of ways. What I think now is that I’d really prefer not to discuss it any further. I need to do some very serious thinking. The only thing I will say is that I can’t believe that Sophie is on the lookout for new blood already.”
“Oh, yes and it’s not just Tim.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. She has been in London preparing for her art show. The preview was last night.”
“She did tell me about it,” said Imogen, remembering the very pointed mention that Sophie had made to Ned of it and feeling worried.
“Well, I think that Paul has been helping her with the preparation.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“She always relied on him a lot.”
“But what about Frédéric?”
“He is away. A South American tour that was planned a long time before he and Sophie got together.”
“That’s very convenient for Sophie.”
“Mainly I hear that there is another Englishman she is after and that this time she cares more than usual.”
“Who, a singer or an artist?”
“All I know is that he is not in the arts world, which is unusual for Sophie – even Paul started his career in music.”
“She certainly doesn’t waste time,” said Imogen. “Still, it’s rather hard on Frédéric, and especially on Sabine, come to think of it.”
“Well, she must be pretty used to it. Sometimes I wonder if she has some sort of hold over Paul – something from the past.”
“You mean like blackmail?”
“I have heard stories from people who knew them when they were at college, that there was some sort of accident. Something that was hushed up, but it has affected their lives ever since.”
“What do you mean?”
“A young girl drowned. Paul had been seeing her behind Sabine’s back. I don’t know the details, it’s all very mysterious, but I have always understood there was some sort of legacy. Some of it I heard through the family. I think Elodie hinted about it once or twice.”
“So that’s why he always goes back to her.”
“Exactly. I mean, I don’t actually know, but it’s always seemed like that to me. I do know it was all tied up with a production of Bohème they were doing at the time.”
CHAPTER 29
Imogen decided to walk home after dinner, even although it was starting to get dark. She knew that there would be plenty of people on the heath in the evening. The athletics track would be floodlit for the local harriers; there would be rugby training, in preparation for the new season; and military boot camps, which were mainly attended by keen young professionals who had to be perfect in every aspect of their lives. Of course, there would also be dog walkers, joggers, lovers. She would be fine – physically fine that is, and she hoped that the exercise would help to clear her mind.
Juliette had told her so much, and nearly all of it was disturbing. Tim was married and a lothario to boot, while Sophie was throwing herself at everyone in sight – although that wasn’t new. Then, of course, was the unbelievable news of Paul and Sabine being involved with the drowning of a young girl during their time at college. It explained so much about the letters and made clear the threat they were carrying. No wonder Elodie had been so disturbed by them. How Imogen missed Ned and longed to phone him, but she didn’t know if she dared. His silence spoke volumes about the way he felt.
“Please phone me, Ned,” she whispered, as she entered her flat and collapsed into an armchair.
*****
Awaking with a start, Imogen realised that she had been dozing and decided that she might as well get into her nightclothes and have one last glass of wine before bed. Having changed, she poured a glass of red and took it into the sitting room with the evening paper, which she had picked up earlier at the tube. She also switched on the television to catch up on the news. Flicking idly through the paper and sipping the wine, Imogen began, at last, to relax – at least until she reached the arts section of the paper.
‘First Night at Soper Gallery’, read the heading. The article began‘Last night saw the opening of an exhibition at the Soper Gallery of works by So
phie Lemet, a French artist based in Paris and Provence…’ It wasn’t the text, however, that transfixed Imogen, but the photo accompanying it. The subscription under the heading read: ‘Sophie Lemet and a friend at the opening of her show at the Soper Gallery’.
The friend was Ned. Imogen began to cry.
*****
Imogen had to wear dark glasses the following morning when she went to work, as her eyes were still red and puffy. Sebastian gave her a quizzical look, but for once decided that discretion was the better part of valour.
“Imogen, lovely to see you. Let me make you a coffee.”
“Thank you,” said Imogen, quietly. Sebastian’s obvious concern nearly reduced her to tears again. “Where’s Tarquin?” she asked.
“Oh, there’s been a palaver. That Tim man rang and asked if Tarquin could be seconded urgently for a few days as there’s some sort of bug in their office.”
“Oh, dear,” said Imogen, “but very interesting for Tarquin.”
“I had to say yes, of course. I think it really will be for a few days, although Tarquin has already got me to agree to a longer internship there some time next year.”
“That’s very understanding of you, Sebastian.”
“I know. It’s not very good timing, of course, but he was thrilled to go. Sometimes, I think I am just putty in my staff’s hands.”
“Oh, dear,” said Imogen, amused despite herself.
“One advantage, however,” continued Sebastian, “is that we will be able to deal with Tarquin whenever we need to make contact with them. That should work to our advantage.”
“That’s wonderful,” said Imogen, delighted. She had dreaded having to coordinate things with Tim. She never, in fact, wanted to speak to him again.
“Well, that did occur to me when I gave Tarquin permission to go there,” said Sebastian.
“That was very clever of you,” said Imogen, reflecting, not for the first time, that Sebastian could be very smart when he wanted to.
“Now, can you believe, I have to leave you,” said Sebastian.
Yes, thought Imogen, I have no trouble believing it at all.