And of course, she’d done an amazing job, but even layers of professionally applied makeup and expensive product to make my curls sleek couldn’t make me stop worrying that I was subverting the old adage and looking like a sheep in wolf’s clothing.
‘Stop looking so on edge,’ Zoë said in exasperation as she grabbed her coat. ‘How much weirder can any interaction with the Nod Next-Door be tonight than the entire basis of your relationship so far?’
I stuck my tongue out at her and she merrily stuck her finger up in return before leaving me to it.
As there was possibly nothing less relaxing than being told to relax, I did the opposite, beginning to pace my flat, worrying at the thin gold chain I’d looped around my wrist. I hated how nervous I suddenly felt at the prospect of seeing Theo; bloody Zoë had freaked me out with all her date talk. Sure, being in love with Dec since I was a teenager had put something of a dampener on my romantic life, but it wasn’t as if I hadn’t dated, and what was I feeling as I waited for Theo to show up? That was straight up pre-date nerves. I was going to kill Zoë.
It was just so stupid! I’d continued the witching-hour routine with Theo the past couple of nights after Lena’s visit with none of this nervousness. I’d finished the book on the Blackbird and, now an unexpected expert on Pratt & Whitney J58 axial-flow turbo-jet engines, had started taking over some sugar paste offcuts, working and reworking them into myriad shapes and designs. It was only that day that I’d started getting all jittery and I wasn’t quite sure whether that was down to meeting the famously unpredictable Leventis clan or spending time with Theo outside of our usual domestic routine.
Theo’s knock, when it came, was bang on seven, exactly when he said he’d pick me up, even if it felt like I’d been waiting forever. Of course he was the type to be punctual, no surprises there.
I didn’t give myself a final once over in the mirror as I headed for the door as I had when Dec had picked me up. I was too scared I’d come to the conclusion that the bronze dress really did look as ridiculous on me as I’d worried it did when it was too late to do anything about it.
I opened the door to reveal Theo, pristine as always in a tailored black suit and sharp white shirt, but with a pinched look on his face. In that first moment he saw me, however, I could’ve sworn he stood up straighter in a move not that dissimilar from how the men had reacted when Vanessa had approached them at the AHC party.
Emboldened by his reaction, I flicked him a little smile. ‘Hey, neighbour,’ I said, the familiar words coming easily even as I found that I suddenly didn’t really know what to do with my hands or feet.
‘Hi.’ He didn’t do anything as sleazy as look me up and down, but he still managed to give the impression that he’d taken all of me in as he said, ‘You look incredible.’
I knew it was just the polite thing that people were expected to say when they saw someone dressed up, but his words still made me blush and look down at the floor. ‘It’s Zoë’s handiwork,’ I admitted. ‘She has a talent in the area of sows’ ears to silk purses.’
‘Hey.’ Something rough in his usually smooth voice made me glance up and he caught my eye, staring at me in a way that made me raise my head as though he’d actually reached out to tilt up my chin. ‘You’re beautiful.’ He didn’t try to make the compliment flowery or dramatic, he just stated it like it was a fact, rendering me completely and utterly speechless in the process.
‘You ready to go?’ he asked, kindly not drawing attention to the fact that I was staring at him like a stunned mullet with a bad case of sunburn.
I nodded and grabbed my purse and coat, falling into step beside him as we walked in silence down the corridor.
I couldn’t help comparing the moment to two weeks ago when I’d headed down this same corridor, chatting and giggling with Dec, nestled up against him. In contrast, Theo and I were silent, keeping a respectful distance from each other.
As Theo stepped back to let me into the small lift first, however, I realised something else. Dec had said I looked beautiful, Theo had said that I was beautiful.
The bronze dress suddenly seemed like a good investment after all.
*
‘So this is the swanky company car?’
It was the first thing I’d said since he’d called me beautiful. We’d entered the underground car park and Theo had directed me towards a grey sedan that, although understated, was clearly top-of-the-range in an ‘I don’t need to shout about it’ kind of way.
There was something about being in the car that relaxed me, perhaps it was the distance and our defined roles: he in the driver’s seat, me the passenger’s.
‘This is it,’ Theo confirmed as we emerged onto the orange-lit street.
‘It’s nice.’ I ran my hand across the soft leather of the seat, surreptitiously checking that my dress hadn’t ridden up too high. ‘Does every Sub-Manager at AHC have one of these?’
He hesitated for the briefest moment, which made his answer seem somehow like a confession. ‘No, it was part of the inducement package when they offered me the job.’
‘An inducement package,’ I repeated in wonder, fairly sure his car was worth more than my yearly salary. ‘I practically had to beg Céleste to give me a chance to apprentice at PP&P, I can’t imagine anyone ever putting together a package of perks to get me to work for them.’
I watched in my peripheral vision as Theo’s hand swooped down to change gears and then returned to the steering wheel in the perfect ten to two position, before he said, ‘I can.’
Surprised and flattered, I laughed. ‘Really? You have no idea what I’m like as an employee; I could be lazy and, I don’t know, make a habit of spitting in the dulce de leche for all you know.’
‘Maybe, but I doubt it.’
We went quiet for a while after that as we travelled through posher parts of the city I’d never had any reason to visit. The houses got steadily bigger, newer and well-spaced until, forty-five minutes or so after we’d headed off, we glided to a stop outside a section of smooth wall.
For a moment I was puzzled, but then Theo leant out his window and keyed a number into a discreet keypad, causing a section of the seemingly continuous wall to slide back and allow us entry to a white pebble drive. Following the line of our headlights up the blinding gravel, I saw the most austere building I’d ever laid eyes on. Lit by artfully placed spotlights, it was all tinted glass, sharp angles and grey concrete. It was the kind of architecture that divided: some people would no doubt call it daring, others an eyesore. Even from the outside I could tell that you had to be confident in who you were to enter – it could probably smell weakness on you.
‘Be it ever so humble,’ Theo remarked sarcastically as he drew us to a crunching stop by what was, presumably, the front door, not that I could distinguish it from the other panes of glass. ‘Kind of like a large, pretentious shoebox, isn’t it?’ he added as I craned my neck to take in the full effect.
‘You grew up here?’ I asked, struggling to imagine being a child in such a crisp, chilly building.
He nodded. ‘It’s a Murkoff.’
‘Sorry?’
‘The house.’ He gestured dismissively towards it. ‘It was designed by Walt Murkoff.’
‘I have no idea who that is,’ I admitted and a corner of his mouth quirked.
‘Unless you’re keen on an hour-long lecture on the mid-century Cubist movement, I wouldn’t tell my mother that. Maybe just look suitably impressed when she name-drops him within the first five minutes.’
I smiled nervously. ‘Will do.’
Oh, god, it had suddenly been rammed home to me whose house this was. Theo meant Philomena Leventis – how could he be so blasé about it? I mean, yes, she was his mother, but still! Philomena Leventis! She wasn’t a person, she was a name, a reputation, a body.
Clamping down firmly on my rising panic, I forced myself to think instead of Aggie’s oft-used refrain: respect and grace; two words she’d believed could get you through a
nything. Respect I could manage, grace was probably going to be trickier. This became abundantly clear as I reached for the doorhandle, but ended up just banging my knuckles against it as Theo said, ‘Wait a minute.’
There was an undercurrent of urgency in his tone that made me force the ‘ouch’ I’d been about to mutter down my throat and turn to look at him. He was staring straight ahead and his hands were still tightly clutched around the steering wheel.
‘Before we go in,’ he said slowly, as if he was having to force the words out, ‘I just want to let you know that you’ll probably hear some things that–’ He paused and, fairly sure I knew what he was getting at, I hurried to reassure him.
‘I won’t tell anyone–’
‘No.’ He reached out as if to put a hand on my arm, but pulled back at the last second. We’d not touched since that first evening where he’d guided me further back from the road and, yes, I was super aware of it.
‘That’s not what I was trying to say, I trust your discretion.’ He grimaced and added, ‘And even if I didn’t, the concept of private versus public information has never been a particular priority for the Leventises. I just wanted to warn you that my family doesn’t have much appreciation for boundaries. You met Lena, she learnt to be like that from her parents.’
It was kind of sad the way he said ‘her parents’, distancing them from himself, presumably a continuation of his choice to change his name.
‘So you’re warning me they’re full-on?’ I checked, fairly sure the years of sensationalist press about them had given me the heads-up on that.
He looked as if ‘full-on’ didn’t really cut it, but nodded. ‘If at any stage you feel uncomfortable and want to leave, just let me know.’
‘Okay,’ I said, before adding somewhat feebly, ‘and with that ominous warning ringing in my ears, shall we go in?’
His expression remained grim but he didn’t make any further verbal protests, so I got out of the passenger side, reluctantly leaving the comforting hug of the leather seat for the chilly evening air. I hung back, letting Theo take the lead partly because I didn’t want to face his ‘full-on’ family first and partly because I still couldn’t figure out where the front door was.
As I watched, Theo pressed an inconspicuous button on one of the grey walls, prompting a discordant jangle, the Leventises apparently ‘edgy’ in all things, including their doorbell chime. It was weird to me that he rang the doorbell rather than just entering as I would my family home, but as a sheet of reflective glass in front of us swung silently open, my baseline for weird was suddenly and dramatically lifted.
A three-metre-high print of that first, most famous naked photograph Harvey Leventis née Apperston had taken of Philomena was hung on the opposite wall. My eyes were on a direct level with the juncture of her spread thighs, and the intimacy of the image, and the area my gaze fell on in particular, felt like a punch to the face.
‘Darling!’
I’d barely begun to recover from the supersized nude photo when the subject herself came gliding across the polished concrete towards us.
Philomena wore a taupe satin dressing gown that fluttered as she approached, the deep V on the front gaping to reveal the swells of the breasts already so prominently on display before us. I felt like I’d gone back in time to the days of old Hollywood glamour – she looked like a femme fatale about to speak to the police about the suspicious death of her much older, much wealthier husband. Thoroughly unconcerned by her revealing attire – and why would she be, considering? – she wafted over and grabbed Theo’s head in both her hands.
‘My boy,’ she said throatily. ‘The prodigal son, returned at last.’
‘Philomena,’ Theo replied gravely, his face as impassive as ever as she kissed him twice on each cheek.
His mother looked a lot like Lena, or Lena looked a lot like her, I suppose. She was tall and dark, wild haired, and the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth were full of character and charm. She appeared, in short, to be as glamourous and debauched in person as she was by reputation.
‘This is Giovanna.’ Theo introduced me and Philomena reluctantly released him and turned her attention to me, although she didn’t get a chance to say anything before–
‘Don’t tell me Three Bags actually came!’
I recognised Theo’s sister’s voice as it echoed in the high-ceilinged, hard-floored house and then she appeared around a corner cinched into a sapphire minidress that made my own seem positively floor length. ‘And he brought Mystery Girl!’ she added, spotting me. ‘Dad owes me fifty bucks. Dad!’ she shouted, latching on to Theo’s arm and starting to drag him back the way she’d come. ‘They’re here, I told you I’d convinced him.’
Philomena’s feet were bare, so I didn’t hear her approach, only realising she was right beside me when she slipped a sinewy arm around my shoulders.
‘You’re very welcome,’ she said in what could almost have been described as a dreamy tone, if there wasn’t a backbone of iron in it that suggested she was just daring me to underestimate her. ‘Come through for drinks. What do you think of the house?’
‘It’s really something,’ I said, trying not to let the surreal nature of the moment run away with me – I was being half-hugged by Philomena Leventis! ‘A Murkoff, isn’t it?’
‘It is,’ Philomena said, sounding pleased. ‘Are you a student of Cubist architecture?’
‘No,’ I said honestly, although I couldn’t help adding, significantly less honestly, ‘but everyone knows a Murkoff when they see one, don’t they?’
Ahead of us, Theo turned his head slightly and caught my eye, clearly amused.
‘They should do, yes,’ his mother mused, and then we were entering a huge space covered on one side by floor-to-ceiling windows showing an illuminated pool tiled in the same grey concrete as the house. Midway through the room was a cluster of uncomfortable-looking bench couches accompanied by a metal drinks trolley. I’d seen cosier mausoleums, but I didn’t think it was the décor that was making Theo look so uncomfortable as he shook the hand of a tall, dark, distinguished-looking man who I recognised as Harvey Leventis.
‘Here we are.’ Philomena released me in favour of the drinks trolley. ‘What can I get you? I make an excellent Paloma Brava if you fancy it.’
I couldn’t have said what was in a Paloma Brava, so I just nodded. ‘Sounds great, thanks.’
‘Maybe go easy on the tequila,’ Theo suggested from across the room, and each member of the Leventis family reacted as if he’d said something highly offensive: Lena hissed between her teeth; Harvey raised his thick, grey-flecked eyebrows; and Philomena snapped her head around to glare at him.
‘I didn’t bring you up to think you get any say in the strength of the drinks your companions are served,’ she said icily.
‘No,’ Theo responded calmly, ‘you brought me up to think that cocktail mixers are, essentially, optional, and I’m just reminding you that that’s not an opinion shared by everyone.’
Lena sighed. ‘Always so pious. Mystery Girl, take off your coat and come over here and meet my dad.’
I did as she said, draping my coat over one of the chaises as Theo made his way past me to fix himself a drink. He gave me a look as he did so that clearly reiterated his promise to get me out of there if it all got to be too much. I smiled slightly to show that I appreciated his concern, but wasn’t at that point yet, then moved forward to meet Australia’s most famous photographer. I had to firmly remind myself not to tug too much on my dress as I approached; an excess bit of thigh was hardly going to raise eyebrows in this family, after all.
‘So you’re the one who’s brought the boy back to us,’ Harvey drawled. Aristocratic and brooding, he made no move to rise as I presented myself before him. ‘How kind of you.’
I disliked him instantly. Who greeted someone with that level of superciliousness? More than that, who was so sarcastic about seeing their son?
Luckily, it was pretty clear that this was a fami
ly who never let a pause go to waste, and Lena chipped in before I had to think of something to say in response to Harvey’s obvious barbs. ‘I think you’ll find I was the one to track Three Bags down and convince him to come tonight.’
‘Track me down?’ Theo scoffed from behind us. ‘I was in my flat, how much tracking did you have to do?’
I grinned over my shoulder at him, glad he didn’t seem too upset by his dad’s rudeness, and then jumped as Harvey let out a sudden noise of interest. Looking back at him, I saw that he’d sat forward and was looking at me keenly through eyes so dark they appeared almost black.
‘That’d be the shot,’ he said. ‘Lena, get my fifty millimetre.’
‘Uh,’ I said inarticulately, taken aback by the way not only Harvey, but now Lena too, was suddenly assessing me.
‘Forget it,’ Theo said firmly, a rattling sound suggesting he’d just forcefully put a decanter down among the other bottles on the trolley. ‘She’s not posing for you.’
‘You don’t get to decide that,’ Philomena remarked mildly, passing me my drink in a chunky highball glass and then walking over to rest her hand against the back of her husband’s neck, playing with the greying hair that curled there. ‘That’s her decision.’
There was a pause as the four of them stared at me and I belatedly realised that Harvey Leventis had just asked to take my photo. Well, holy crap. I’d never been so flattered and yet simultaneously horrified in my life.
‘Curls and curves, that’s your focus,’ Harvey told me, his eyes running down my body in a way that was somehow both lascivious and clinical, nothing at all like his son’s respectful gaze back at our building. ‘It’ll be a nude you can take home to your mother, I can promise you that.’
This, at least, prompted a little laugh and I shook my head. ‘Much as I’m sure my mum would appreciate that,’ I said politely, ‘I’m going to have to pass. Although thank you for the offer.’
My refusal caused looks to be exchanged and, unsure whether I’d offended them, I took a gulp of my drink, forgetting Theo’s warning. It was like drinking straight tequila and the lethal liquid burnt down my throat and into my stomach, making tears spring to my eyes.
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