Dreaming of Venice
Page 5
Chapter 5
On Friday, armed with her pay packet from the café, Penny went into the shop in north London where she always went to buy her paints. It was while she was there that she ran into a familiar face. As she walked in past the long old-fashioned counter, she heard somebody calling out her name. She turned towards the sound of the voice and smiled as she saw who it was. His name was Owen, he was also an artist and he was rather dishy. She occasionally bumped into him, but they had rarely exchanged more than a few sentences. Of course, in those days, she had had Rick.
‘Penny. Hi, you’re looking amazing.’
‘Compared to my usual scruffy state, is what you mean, I suppose, Owen?’ She gave him a smile, secretly very pleased at his comment.
‘No, not at all, but you’ve changed your hair, haven’t you?’
‘Very observant. I see yours is still the same; a cross between Hugh Grant and the absent-minded professor.’
He smiled back at her. ‘Penny, just a suggestion, are you doing anything this evening?’ She did a double-take. Was he asking her out? And if he was, did she want to go out with him? She had told Vicky she wasn’t interested in another man and she had meant it. At least up to now.
‘Are you asking me out, Owen?’
‘Er, yes, sort of, if you’d like to.’ He gave her an encouraging smile. ‘How about taking in an exhibition?’
An exhibition didn’t sound too compromising, so she decided to hear him out. ‘Well, Friday’s my night off. What sort of exhibition did you have in mind?’
‘Your night off what?’
‘I’m working as a waitress, in a desperate attempt to keep body and soul together.’
‘Oh, right, I didn’t know. Anyway, I’m not sure if you might be interested, but there’s a new Turner exhibition just opened at the Royal Academy. It’ll be open till nine tonight because today’s a Friday. How about going to that and then I’ll buy you a pie and a pint afterwards?’
‘You old romantic, you. Whatever happened to champagne and caviar?’ With a start, she reflected that she had already drunk champagne twice this week. It would probably be wise not to let that develop into a habit. ‘And yes, that sounds lovely, but we can each pay for our own. Shall I meet you at the RA at, say, seven?’
‘It’s a date.’
As he went off, a smile on his face, Penny reflected on what they had just decided. On the one hand, she had been meaning to go to the Turner exhibition and it would be nice to have some company. On the other, she really wasn’t interested in men for now, or was she? Her telling Owen they would split the bill had been a positive step if she did intend keeping him at arm’s length. Mind you, she thought to herself, the idea of going out with a good-looking man who shared her interests definitely wasn’t to be sniffed at. In fact, she thought to herself, he really was a very good-looking man.
The lady behind the counter was an old friend; she also commented on Penny’s new appearance. She was particularly fascinated by Penny’s fingers, or at least her new nails, asking her if they made holding the brushes more difficult. Penny shook her head, although she was nursing a little cut alongside her eye this morning, the result of an injudicious attempt to scratch an itch earlier on without due care and attention. At least, she reflected, she had avoided putting her eye out, but she knew she had to be careful. She also reflected, rather naughtily, that it was probably just as well if things with the delectable Owen didn’t develop into anything more intimate, as she might end up scarring him for life.
The date, if that was what it was, went very well. The Turner exhibition was delightful and they were in there for well over an hour. From there, they went to a pub round the back of Piccadilly near Shepherd Market and drank beer and chatted. This was the first time she had been out with a man for quite a few months now and she enjoyed Owen’s company and even found herself doing a little mild flirting with him. She had deliberately not dressed up specially, and had made a point of avoiding any of her new Olivia wardrobe. She felt relaxed and it looked as if he was having a good time too. She definitely had a very pleasant evening and she was happy to give him a hug and a goodnight kiss on the cheek before taking the tube home again, rather sorry that he had informed her he was going to France for the next week.
As she emerged from the station at the other end she saw she had a text from him saying how much he had enjoyed himself and saying he hoped they could do it again soon. She replied immediately.
Lovely evening. Definitely repeat when you get back. XX.
And she meant it. She really did like him a lot. She had been so busy finishing off her portfolio of paintings to present to the different galleries, she had had little time or money for socialising. Also, having to work full time to support herself had meant precious little free time for going out and having fun, even if she had had the money. And, of course, there had been the small matter of her having a boyfriend already, albeit on the other side of the world. Now, with Rick out of the equation and as the Olivia job reduced the need to work all hours, and with her latest collection of paintings effectively finished, she could at last start thinking about fun again. She smiled to herself as she walked along the quiet streets to the house. One thing was for sure: she was definitely getting Rick out of her system.
When she got back home, she found an email waiting for her from Caroline, apologising for the short notice and asking her if she could present herself at the Brookes-Webster’s house in Notting Hill the following night, dressed for cocktails. Caroline explained in the email that this was the brainchild of Olivia’s mother, who wanted to inspect and test the results of the makeover. Caroline said she would be there as well to offer moral support and assured Penny that she would be paid for her time on the basis of a hundred pounds an hour.
Much as the idea of a cocktail party, not to mention the company of the loathsome Mrs Brookes-Webster, didn’t appeal in the slightest to Penny, a couple of hundred pounds would be very welcome to settle her outstanding account with the electricity company. This particularly scary bill, printed in red ink, had been sitting on her bedside table for some days now. She sent a short reply to Caroline saying she would be there at six thirty the next day as instructed and then sent a text message to Jimmy asking if he could cover for her at the café that evening. He phoned her back immediately.
‘Anything for you, sweetheart. What’s the big event?’
Penny hadn’t banked on being asked that, so she took refuge in a little white lie.
‘I’m going to the new Turner exhibition at the RA.’
‘On your own?’ He really was terminally nosey.
‘Um, no, I mean yes.’
‘No, I mean yes, eh? So it’s like that, is it? So what’s his name? You didn’t waste much time, did you?’
She did her best to affect an exasperated tone as she replied, but, as usual, his hunch was bang on the money. ‘Um, he’s a friend, an artist I’ve known for years.’
‘Eighty years old and decrepit?’ Jimmy was mocking her.
‘Um, no. I don’t know how old he is. Older than me, anyway.’
‘Like ten, twenty years older or maybe a little bit less? Maybe pretty much your age and handsome with it? Or am I wrong?’
‘All right, Jimmy.’ She gave a sigh. ‘You’ve got me bang to rights. He’s a man, and a good-looking one at that, but it isn’t a date.’ She realised as she said it that she was trying to convince herself of the truth of what she was saying every bit as much as trying to convince him. She might be making progress towards convincing herself, but Jimmy wasn’t falling for it.
‘Well, good for you, that’s what I say. I told you you’re gorgeous. See, no sooner has that scumbag Rick disappeared off the radar than the vultures have already started circling?’
‘It’s not a date.’
‘Of course it isn’t.’ His tone was highly sceptical. ‘Anything you say.’
‘Oh, Jimmy…’ Penny wasn’t really sure if she was exasperated with him or herself or ma
ybe just at life in general. ‘Anyway, thanks for covering my shift.’
‘Anything for you, gorgeous. Besides, I could do with the extra cash.’
Penny put the phone down, reflecting that she would make almost as much in two hours with Olivia’s mother as she made in a whole week at the café.
Chapter 6
Among the new clothes hanging in her wardrobe were a couple of so-called evening dresses and Penny chose the less revealing one for Saturday night’s cocktail party. She also located a heavy necklace that further protected her modesty. As she checked herself in the mirror, she had to admit that she really did look pretty good. She was getting used to her appearance by now and gradually finding that it was no longer a stranger looking back at her in the mirror. This hairstyle, these clothes, even the killer heels were gradually beginning to feel familiar and even comfortable. She had made a point of wearing the high-heeled shoes around her room as much as possible so as to familiarise herself with them. She was very careful, however, to make sure she avoided the hole in the carpet, and always kept the light on. She was getting progressively more confident in heels and had no doubt at all that the disguise would be good enough to fool pretty much anybody.
She rang the doorbell of the Notting Hill house at exactly six thirty as instructed, determined not to give Mrs Brookes-Webster any excuse to be any nastier than normal to her. The door was opened by Caroline who surveyed her with a big smile of approval. Alongside her was Gilbert the dog. This time his greeting was warmer. Presumably by now he had got over the fact that his mistress had suddenly acquired a twin sister, and he came to meet Penny with his tail wagging. She reached out her hand to scratch his ears and would have bent down further to stroke him, but for the very real fear that a wardrobe malfunction might ensue if she did so.
As Caroline closed the door behind them, she whispered in her ear. ‘Mrs B-W’s invited a couple of distant relatives along. Aunt Peggy’s the one with the white hair and Aunt Gloria’s the fat one. Got that? Peggy white, Gloria fat. If you can fool them, you’ll be doing well. Just try to say as little as possible and remember that Olivia’s generally a bit quiet and reserved these days.’
‘Why these days?’
‘She’s been like it ever since her dad died. She spends all her time with Gilbert and hardly says a word to anybody.’ They were approaching the lounge door now. ‘I’ll tell you all about it some other time. Anyway, good luck. You certainly look the part. I’ll be waiting outside and we can go for a bite to eat afterwards if you like.’
Olivia’s mother was standing by the fireplace, a glass of champagne in her manicured hand. Beside her, looking vaguely sinister, were two elderly ladies. A noticeable smell of mothballs filled the air, but it certainly wasn’t coming from Mrs B-W. Her very expensive perfume was strong enough to compete with the mothballs and completely swamped the modest amount of perfume Penny had applied before leaving home. To her surprise, Mrs B-W gave her a big smile when she came into the room and it took a moment before Penny remembered that she was now in the presence of the woman who was supposed to be her mother. She went across to the fireplace and had another momentary crisis before deciding to kiss the old ladies on the cheeks. She started with the fatter of the two, Aunt Gloria, and in so doing, she realised that the mothballs were most definitely from her wardrobe. She could feel her eyes watering as she stepped back.
‘Hello, auntie.’ She repeated the process with the other aunt before accepting a glass of champagne from a silver tray brought in by the housekeeper. The dog had accompanied her and he now sat down beside her, his nose pointing up at the tray hopefully.
‘Olivia, darling, you look fabulous.’ Aunt Gloria’s voice was as strong as her mothballs. By the sound of it she had considerable experience shouting at hounds, horses, hockey matches or, more probably, housemaids. Beside her, Aunt Peggy smiled nervously, but said nothing. Olivia’s mother bestowed another smile upon Penny that was almost welcoming, before turning to the two old ladies.
‘Of course, you haven’t seen Olivia since Roger’s funeral, have you?’
‘Poor Roger.’ So Aunt Peggy had got a voice after all. Remembering her role, Penny dropped her eyes at the mention of Olivia’s father and sought solace in the champagne glass. The wine and the glass containing it were exquisite. Yes, she thought to herself, I could really develop a habit for this stuff.
‘Such a shame. The dear, dear man,’ Aunt Gloria bellowed affably, before clapping Mrs B-W on the back with her free hand in much the same way as she no doubt greeted her favourite mare. ‘So, how’ve you been holding up, Angela, and you, Olivia?’
Seeing Olivia’s mother juggle with her glass as she regained her balance after the assault, Penny was thankful she had been out of range. A momentary look of annoyance was swiftly replaced by one of sorrow. For the first time, Penny thought she maybe glimpsed real human feeling beneath the impeccable make-up. ‘Much better, thank you, Gloria. It’s been a tough few months.’ If it had been tough, it certainly hadn’t left any lasting trace on Mrs B-W’s face. Her skin was so smooth and wrinkle-free that even Penny, who had never knowingly come across any recipient of cosmetic surgery in her life, began to feel suspicious. Deciding it was best not to reply, Penny dropped her eyes in true Olivia style and mumbled something opaque, concentrating her attention on the Labrador, who slowly subsided onto his back on the floor beside her, emitting a series of contented canine grunts.
Over the next hour and a half, she managed to stay on the periphery of the conversation, only responding when absolutely necessary. She learnt quite a bit about the family, mainly that Olivia’s father, Roger, had been much-loved and sorely missed by everybody. One question, however, came as a surprise to her.
‘So are you terribly busy, Olivia, now that you’re in charge of the Foundation?’ Penny had been discreetly studying the Hieronymus Bosch triptych and Aunt Gloria’s powerful voice made her jump, as a result of which she spilled a few drops of champagne. She turned towards the voice, wondering how to respond, but Mrs B-W got there first.
‘I’ve been helping Olivia out, Gloria. The poor dear’s not really been herself these past few months.’
‘Is that so, Olivia? You were so very close to your father, weren’t you?’ Penny nodded and added a sniff for good measure as the stout lady launched into a few words of encouragement, accompanied by a clap on the back that further depleted Penny’s glass. Out of the corner of her eye, Penny saw Gilbert the dog stretch out and lick up the fallen champagne. She found herself wondering idly whether this would be bad for him, or whether, as the pet of millionaires, he might already have developed a taste for such luxuries. ‘But you’ve really got to buck up now, dear. Get back on the horse again and all that. Your father’s gone, but you’ve got to carry on his good work.’ Aunt Gloria’s voice, while still loud, now softened in tone. ‘It’s what he would have wanted, you know. He always said you were the right one to take over from him.’
So that’s the way it is, Penny thought to herself, realising now what Caroline had been hinting at. The husband handed over control of things to the daughter, rather than the wife. She glanced again at the ostentatious, conceited exterior of Olivia’s mother and reflected that she couldn’t fault his judgement. However, from what Penny had seen so far of the taciturn daughter, Olivia wasn’t likely to do much better. She took a deep breath and murmured a soft thank you to Aunt Gloria, then turned away and surreptitiously licked the spilt champagne from her fingers.
The little gathering broke up just after eight and that produced Penny’s trickiest moment of the evening. Just as the two old ladies were heading for the door, Aunt Peggy, who had said little more than Penny herself in the course of the evening, suddenly threw a spanner in the works. As she came over to kiss Penny goodbye, she caught her softly by the shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. ‘You’ll get over it, my dear. And if you’d like to come down to Edgecombe any time, you know you’re very welcome. Sammy misses you a lot, you know.’
‘Oh, how sweet. Thank you so much, auntie. Sammy’s lovely.’ Penny’s fingers were crossed behind her back as she spoke.
‘He often asks about you, you know.’ Penny registered that Sammy would appear to be human and male, unless Aunt Peggy had a talking horse. ‘I was trying to remember the last time you came down to see us. Your brain’s younger than mine, surely you can remember?’
From what Caroline had said, Olivia hadn’t been out of the house since her father’s death, so it was unlikely she had visited her aunt this year. Penny swallowed hard. ‘Last year, was it? Or maybe even longer?’ Penny decided to throw this out to the room. She turned towards Mrs B-W and smiled sweetly. ‘Mummy, can you remember the last time I went to Edgecombe?’ She was delighted to see Mrs B-W momentarily nonplussed.
‘Easter of last year, I think it was. We came down for Uncle Sammy’s eightieth. That was last year, wasn’t it, Peggy?’
‘Of course, that’s right. Silly me.’ The old lady shook her head. ‘I’m getting so forgetful.’
Penny took another chance. ‘Well do give Uncle Sammy a big hug from me, won’t you?’
‘Of course, dear. He’ll be so pleased when I tell him how well you look and how lovely you are. Your hair’s even silkier than I remember.’ Aunt Peggy gave Penny’s hair a little stroke as she kissed her goodbye. For her part, Penny tried hard not to look too relieved that the ordeal was over.
No sooner were the two aunties out of the room than Mrs B-W turned to Penny. For a few seconds she appeared to be lost for words, but finally she found her voice. ‘I suppose you’ll do.’ With that, she swept out of the side door, leaving Penny unsurprised, but still annoyed, at her lack of common courtesy.