‘But you won’t need to,’ Caroline rushed to reassure her. ‘At least, hardly ever. Think about it. You and Olivia can’t ever be seen together, so you’ll have to be kept away from each other at all times, and you don’t need to have anything to do with her. And apart from an occasional visit to a convention or a cocktail party, you don’t need to worry about being in close proximity of Mrs B-W.’ She paused, during which time she looked hard at Penny and evidently came to a decision. She lowered her voice. ‘Listen, Penny, Olivia hasn’t been well recently, and Mrs Brookes-Webster’s been taking her place at business meetings.’ Her voice now dropped to little more than a whisper. ‘The thing is that Mrs B-W’s not doing so well at it. She’s been putting a lot of people’s backs up and we need to try to redress the balance. By replacing Olivia you’ll actually be replacing her mother as well, so you’ll hardly see her either. Besides, Mrs B-W’s going off on holiday for most of the month of November.’ Penny was slightly encouraged by this, but still uncertain. Then Caroline delivered the coup de grace. ‘And she’s only home for a week or two after that because the Venice conference in December is when she goes on holiday to the Caribbean, so you won’t have to worry about bumping into her at all.’
‘Did you say Venice?’ The name stunned Penny for a moment. All her life she had dreamt of visiting that most magical of cities. As an artist, she had been to Italy a number of times and she loved the country. She spoke the language pretty well and had visited Rome, Sicily and Tuscany, spending a whole year in Florence, but had never managed to make it across to Venice. Only as recently as the previous month she had confided to Jimmy that she would be prepared to sell her soul to the devil for the chance to go to Venice, and now here it was. And although Olivia and her mother were pretty grim, they weren’t exactly the devil incarnate.
‘Yes, it’s a five day conference just before Christmas. It’s an annual event. You wouldn’t be busy all the time and there must be hundreds of amazing paintings there for you to see.’ Caroline had evidently noted the spark in Penny’s eyes when she used the “V” word. Now she didn’t hesitate to capitalise on this bargaining tool. ‘And we’ll be staying in just about the very best hotel in Venice; one of the best in the world. Surely you’d like that?’
There was absolutely no doubt at all in Penny’s mind that she wouldn’t just like that, she would love it. The whole thing still sounded decidedly dodgy, but the combination of much-needed extra income that would hopefully allow her to fly across to see Rick, and the chance to go to Venice, outweighed her doubts. She took a deep breath and held out her hand. ‘All right, Caroline. You’ve talked me into it. I’ll do it.’
* * *
That night, Penny tried to get in contact with Rick in Australia to give him the wonderful news that she might, after all, be able to fly out to see him this winter. She waited until eleven o'clock, knowing that she should be able to catch him in what would be the early morning over there, before he left the house to go to work. She went onto Skype, dialled and waited. It took her a few tries, but she persisted, telling herself he was probably in the shower. Finally, just as she was beginning to despair, he answered. The screen cleared and his face appeared. From his bare shoulders, he had either just come out of bed or the bathroom.
‘Penny, hi. How’s things?’ He sounded surprised and a bit flustered.
‘Hi, Rick. I’m fine. What about you?’
‘Good, good. How’s the painting going?’
They exchanged a few snippets of news while she was making up her mind how to broach the subject of the very unusual job she had just accepted that would, hopefully, allow her to make enough for an air ticket to Australia. Somehow, trying to find the words to explain how it had all happened wasn’t straightforward. She decided she had better start at the beginning, with the baby on the railway lines, but she could see he had something on his mind. His eyes were darting around uncomfortably and, clearly, he wasn’t concentrating on what she was saying.
‘Is everything okay, Rick? Are you all right?’ He definitely didn’t look his normal happy self.
She saw him glance over his shoulder and heard him clear his throat. ‘Look, Pen, I’ve been meaning to call you.’ He hesitated briefly. ‘You see, it’s like this. This long-distance thing, between us, it isn’t working.’
‘What do you mean, not working?’ Penny suddenly felt cold. She pulled her dressing gown tighter around her shoulders and tried again. ‘I don’t understand, Rick. Why isn’t it working?’
She saw his back straighten as he sat upright and concentrated. ‘I mean, Pen, look, I’m awfully sorry, but I think I’ve found somebody else. I mean, I have found somebody else.’ She saw him take a couple of quick breaths. ‘I should have told you before. I’m sorry.’ Penny just sat there, dumbstruck, as she listened to what he had to say, a numb sensation flooding throughout her body. ‘I’ve started a relationship with somebody else, and it’s going really well. So I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I think it’s best if we break up, you and I.’ He stopped, waiting for her reaction. It took her a while to find the words, any words.
‘You’re telling me you think we should break up?’ Penny heard the quiver in her voice and he must have heard it too.
‘Yes, but I’m really sorry.’
‘Because you’ve found somebody else?’
‘Erm, yes.’ He glanced back over his shoulder again and Penny found she was beginning to put two and two together. Her feeling of dismay began to change to something else.
‘And she’s there with you now?’
‘Erm, yes.’
‘Well, you’ve certainly moved on bloody fast.’ She felt a wave of anger rising in her and decided to terminate the conversation before she exploded. ‘And you didn’t even have the decency to tell me before you jumped into bed with her?’
‘Erm, no.’
‘Well, that’s that, then, Rick. Goodbye.’ She reached forward furiously.
‘Goodbye, Pen.’
She managed to close the laptop without slamming it hard enough to fracture the screen, but she definitely gave it a hefty thump. She flung it to one side and lay back on the bed, doing her best to digest what had just happened. Here she had been, about to break the news to her boyfriend that it looked like she was going to be able to fly all the way from one end of the earth to the other in order to see him and, instead, she had found herself being unceremoniously dumped. She lay there for a good long while, her head spinning. Yes, she had always known it was going to be hard to keep a long distance relationship alive, but just as she had said to Jimmy so recently, she had been determined to try. And now this… Thought of Jimmy made her reach for her phone. She knew she needed to talk to somebody and she knew she could count on him. She and he had really bonded recently. If this had happened a year earlier there was no doubt she would have phoned her big sister, Diane, but now, Jimmy had become her default option whenever she needed comfort. He answered almost immediately.
‘Hello, sweetheart, how’re you?’
‘Not so good, I’m afraid.’ She gripped the bedcover in her free hand and clenched her fist, determined not to break down and start crying. Her resolve didn’t last long.
‘What’s happened, poppet? Tell Uncle Jimmy all about it.’
‘It’s Rick. He’s gone off with another woman.’ Her voice tailed off. She knew she wouldn’t be able to say anything else for a little while for fear that it might make her cry, so she lapsed into silence. But Jimmy and silence didn’t mix.
‘What, some Australian woman? For God’s sake, is the man crazy? You’re gorgeous, sweetheart, how could he do something like that?’
‘I’m not feeling very gorgeous at the moment, Jimmy. I suppose it’s like you were saying; absence makes the heart forget, not grow fonder.’
‘Well, all I can say, Penny, is that it’s pretty clear it wasn’t going to work out anyway, if he can’t even keep his hands off other women after, what, two or three months?’
‘Th
ree months and five days, but who’s counting?’
‘Do you want me to come over for a snuggle? I’m a very good snuggler, you know.’
In spite of the circumstances, Penny found herself smiling. ‘I’m sure you are and thank you. But I think I’ll just go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow at the café and, thanks, Jimmy. You’re a good friend.’
Unsurprisingly, Penny had an unsettled night, but she must have slept at least some of the time, as she had the Venice dream once again. This time the dream was less comfortable. One moment she was in a gondola, working the oar herself as the boat glided down a narrow canal between two beautiful old buildings, the next she lost her balance and fell into the water. All around her people were walking past or sitting enjoying the sunshine, but nobody noticed her, however loud she shouted and screamed. She splashed and splashed and splashed, but there was nobody to help her.
Chapter 3
One of the conditions of the job was that Penny was sworn to secrecy. This was done at a solicitor’s office close to the Temple church in Central London, where she was summoned shortly after accepting the job.
She was ushered into the office by a stern-looking secretary and found herself in the presence of an even sterner-looking older man with a shining bald head. He was sitting behind a massive wooden desk, empty apart from a telephone, a gold fountain pen and a lone folder. As she came in, he stood up and came round to greet her, extending his hand in her direction.
‘Miles Jenson. Do sit down. Miss Lane, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, Penny Lane.’
‘Like the Beatles’ song.’ For a moment what could have been described as a smile crossed his face, but it disappeared again in an instant. ‘Do take a seat, please, Miss Lane. It is Miss, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, I’m single.’ Penny sat down as instructed and took a quick look around. The walls of the room were lined with oak panelling and the floor had recently been carpeted. The window looked out onto a windswept court three storeys below. Although it was still September, the trees were already losing their leaves and it looked bleak out there. Back inside it didn’t look much more cheerful. Mr Jenson’s fleeting smile had been replaced by a look of grim severity.
‘I have here a solemn undertaking for you to sign, Miss Lane. You should read it carefully before you sign it. In brief, it’s a formal, legally binding undertaking not to reveal the part you are playing in this little…’ He hesitated, searching for an appropriate word, ‘…charade. As you will see from the wording of the document, the consequences of any breach of confidentiality would be serious, very serious indeed. I hope I make myself clear.’
‘Quite clear, thank you, Mr Jenson. Would you like me to take the document away and come back once I’ve read it?’
‘No, just take your time and read it here.’ His eyes flicked up to a fine old wall clock. He was, no doubt, being paid handsomely for his time. Penny set down her bag and concentrated on the legal document in her hands. As she started reading, she was still turning over in her head the wisdom or otherwise of embarking on this very unusual course of action. She would have dearly loved to have somebody with whom she could discuss things. With Rick now out of the equation, she felt sure that Jimmy, for instance, with his innate common sense, would have been able to advise, but Caroline had made it quite clear that she was forbidden to reveal it to a soul, not even her mum and dad. And now, in case she were still under any misapprehension, this stipulation was going to be enshrined in law.
Penny did her best to ignore these thoughts as she read the document to the end. It was uncompromising. Any disclosure to anybody of what she was doing would result in legal action. She had little doubt that the full weight of the law would be brought to bear upon her, and if it came to a legal battle between her and Mr Jenson and his team, she had no illusions as to the inevitable outcome. Still, she told herself, Venice was Venice, and a grand or two a month was the lifeline she so desperately needed, so in for a penny, in for a pound. She finished reading and placed the document on the solicitor’s desk. As he looked up and caught her eye, she nodded. ‘That’s quite clear. I agree to abide by the conditions laid down in this document. If you’ve got a pen, I’ll sign it now.’
‘Excellent.’ Mr Jenson picked up the gold fountain pen, screwed off the lid and handed it to her. She signed and he added his own signature below hers. Finally he produced an old-fashioned rocking blotter from a drawer and ran it over the wet ink, before rising to his feet. He held out his hand once more. The meeting was over.
Penny stood up in her turn, stretched across the desk and shook his hand. ‘Thank you, Mr Jenson.’
‘Thank you, Miss Lane. And remember that this interdict applies even to your closest friends and relatives. Are we clear? Not even to your fiancé or boyfriend.’
Penny shook her head. ‘That’s not going to be a problem.’
The solicitor nodded approvingly. ‘Excellent. Now, goodbye to you and good luck with this enterprise.’
Outside in the waiting room, to her surprise, she found Caroline waiting for her. As they walked out into the chilly autumn day together, Penny explained what had just transpired. Caroline nodded.
‘I had the same thing yesterday. Janice the housekeeper and Arthur the chauffeur had to sign as well. You’re a closely guarded secret, Penny.’ She smiled at her and glanced at her watch. ‘What are your plans this morning? Do you have to get back to work?’
‘Not until four. I’m on the late shift now for the next few days.’
‘So you’re free for a few hours?’
‘Yes. What were you thinking of?’
‘Shopping, Penny, shopping.’
Their shopping expedition exceeded even Penny’s wildest expectations. Altogether they spent over four hours in Harrods and some of the surrounding shops and boutiques. In the course of that time, Penny acquired an extensive new wardrobe at eye-watering cost, all paid for by Caroline’s credit card. Penny found herself with several pairs of shoes, including stilettos, mules and some gorgeous soft Italian suede boots, any one of which probably cost as much as all the shoes and boots currently stuffed under the bed of her rented room. They even bought a selection of underwear, some fancy but, thankfully, most of it comfortable and, unlike most of her stuff, non-transparent. A brace of mind-bogglingly expensive designer dresses and a selection of tops and jeans, all bearing well-known labels, filled more and more bags. One small bottle of Olivia’s favourite perfume cost more than Penny earned in a week at the café. A warm winter coat, not dissimilar to the one Caroline was wearing, completed the ensemble. They had so many bags they had to be assisted out of the last shop by the same shop assistant who had initially turned up her nose when she had first seen Penny’s modest outfit. Now, no doubt thinking of the commission she had just earned, she was all sweetness and light.
Penny slumped down in the back of the taxi alongside Caroline and glanced across at her, reflecting that retail therapy appeared to be surprisingly good at taking one's mind off two-timing pigs in the Antipodes, at least for a few hours. ‘They don’t believe in doing things by halves, the Brookes-Websters, do they? We must have spent more than I’ve earned in a year of working at the Apocalypse Café.’
Caroline smiled back at her. ‘You’ve got to look the part and the fact is that this is the stuff they wear. If you turned up at a conference in your old clothes, somebody might smell a rat.’ Penny was reminded of the very real rat she had seen running down the corridor just outside the door to her room the other morning, and shuddered as Caroline carried on. ‘And while on the subject of making you look convincing, there’s a trip to the salon to fix up.’
‘Hair salon?’
‘Hair, nails, a full facial for a start. I’ll try and get something booked this week.’ She caught Penny’s eye. ‘The problem is that it’ll have to be a different hair salon from Olivia’s usual one. If she suddenly turned up with hair twice as long as it was last week, they, too, might smell a rat.’
‘Could you
stop talking about rats, please, Caroline. I think I’ve got one living in my house.’
‘Ugh. Anyway, what we’re going to have to do is to book you in somewhere and produce a photo of Olivia as she is now. We can say it was your old style and you want to go back to it. Are you free any morning this week?’
‘Yes, I think so. I’m waiting to hear from a couple of galleries, more in hope than in expectation, but I imagine they’ll give me a few days’ notice. That is, if they get back to me at all.’
‘Great. I’ll see what I can arrange and I’ll give you a call as soon as I know.’
By now the taxi was approaching Penny’s far from glamorous lodgings. She stared out of the window at the down-at-heel surroundings and reflected on the vast chasm that existed between her lifestyle and the Brookes-Websters’. She turned back towards Caroline. ‘I’m not making a huge mistake, am I?’
Caroline shook her head. ‘Not at all. You’re actually doing something very positive and important. It may sound a bit over-dramatic, but the work of the Foundation is of massive importance to the whole world.’ Seeing the look of uncertainty on Penny’s face, she expanded. ‘Really. It’s vital that the research continues, and your taking Olivia’s place will make a real difference.’
Penny shook her head. ‘If you say so. When do I start to find out more about the Foundation?’
‘Very soon, Penny.’
* * *
Somehow, Caroline managed to make the hair appointment for the very next day. When she phoned with the name of the salon, Penny almost fainted. She was going to have her hair done by the same people who did the hair of countless footballers’ wives and girlfriends, as well as members of the more traditional aristocracy.
‘Your hair’s being done by Gaston and I’ve sent him a couple of shots of Olivia’s hair. I’ve booked you in as Olivia Brookes and he’s promised to get you looking just like that.’ Caroline hesitated for a moment. ‘I told him you’ve been away on a gap year and you haven’t been looking after yourself, so you might do well to invent a cover story in case he’s one of the chatty ones. They reckon they should be able to cut and style your hair, do your nails, and give you a full facial in the course of the morning, so you should be able to get to work in the afternoon all right. I’ve given them the card details so you don’t need to pay a penny. All right?’
Dreaming of Venice Page 3