‘Oh, Lord. I didn’t turn it off, did I?’
Together they went over to the oven. Olivia turned it off and pulled the door open. A billowing cloud of smoke came wafting out and, as it did so, all the smoke alarms in the kitchen started sounding. To make matters worse, the dog decided he should join in and started barking furiously. By the time they had finally managed to climb up on chairs and poke the alarms with a mop handle to silence them, and then calm Gilbert down, both girls were half deaf. Penny glanced across at the carbonised remains of the quiche and smiled. She looked back at Olivia.
‘You don’t often see that on the cookery programmes.’
Chapter 14
Penny had tried to call Owen a few time since coming back from her weekend in Paris, but, unusually, his phone had been off, or maybe broken. She tried again before going to bed that night, but there still wasn’t an answer. She began to feel worried that something might have happened to him. When she got home the next evening she had a cup of tea with Caroline and then went up to her room and tried phoning him again. She wanted to tell him she was looking forward more and more to the weekend ahead, but she was beginning to fear that something was wrong. As the phone rang and rang yet again without answer, it occurred to her that although she knew roughly where he lived in south London, she didn’t know his exact address. If she continued to be unable to get through to him, her only other course of action would be to go to the art shop where they knew him pretty well; either that or try ringing round a few other artist friends. After a while the call went to voicemail so she just left the same message she had left previously. ‘Hi, Owen. It’s me. Is everything all right? Give me a call.’
About ten minutes later, she got an incoming call. She had a momentary feeling of disappointment as she saw that it wasn’t Owen. Instead it was Olivia and she sounded cheerful.
‘Hi, Penny, I was wondering. Would you have time to come shopping with me one of these days? Your clothes look so much more practical and comfortable than mine and I’d really like it if you could take me to the places you normally go.’
‘Certainly, any time, but you do realise my stuff’s a considerable step down from your usual clothes, don’t you? In fact, I’ve just bought a couple of T-shirts from that very same supermarket where you bought the ingredients for the quiche. Are you sure you want to slum it?’
‘That stuff looks great on you. Why not on me? We are almost the same person after all.’
‘Okay, I’d love to go shopping with you.’ Then Penny had a thought. ‘But, hang on a minute. We can’t be seen out together, can we?’
Olivia laughed. ‘I think I’ve come up with the solution to that one.’
No sooner had the call ended when Penny’s phone started ringing again. To her delight and relief, she saw that, finally, it was Owen on the line. Her delight changed to apprehension when she heard his tone.
‘Hi, Penny. Look, I need to see you. We have to talk. Something’s happened.’
‘What’s happened, Owen?’ Penny was suddenly anything but delighted. ‘Are you all right? Has there been an accident?’
‘No, nothing like that. I’ve just got to see you. Could I come up to your place or could you manage to meet me somewhere central?’
Penny didn’t like the sound of what he might have to say, so, rather than invite him round and have to explain things to Caroline at this stage, she arranged to meet him in a pub near Kings Cross station an hour later. She showered, changed, and went straight out, just telling Caroline she was going to meet Owen. Caroline gave her a cheery wave, but Penny felt anything but cheery as she left the house. There had been something in Owen’s voice that worried her greatly. The eager, loving tone was sorely missing and she began to get a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. Could it be that this relationship, that had been starting to feel so good and so right, might not be working out so well after all?
The place where they arranged to meet was a bar on the ground floor of a hotel. It was fairly clinical and characterless, but at least it was nearly empty and very quiet. She found Owen sitting at a table in the far corner, an untouched pint of bitter and a glass of prosecco in front of him. He waved her into a seat without kissing or even touching her. She shrugged off her coat and sat down, the sense of foreboding now stronger than ever. She glanced down at the Prosecco. ‘For me?’ He nodded so she picked it up and took a big mouthful. ‘So what’s this all about, Owen?’
He stared down at his beer, making no attempt to drink any of it. He was still as handsome as ever and now, with an expression of sorrow and something like remorse on his face, she felt she wanted to reach over and cuddle him. But she didn’t. She just sat there, in that sanitised, sterile room, waiting for him to say what he had to say. He took so long in formulating a reply that she was on the point of prompting him when he finally found his voice.
‘Penny, look, I don’t know how to say this and I’m very, very sorry, but I don’t think we can go out together any more.’
Penny really didn’t know what to say for a moment. She sat there, stunned for a while, before making an attempt. ‘But I only saw you a few days ago and we arranged to go away together next weekend. And now you tell me you’re breaking up with me?’ Her voice sounded as puzzled as she felt. She drank a bit more prosecco and waited for him to explain.
‘Penny, it’s like this. You know I told you I’d been in a long relationship that fell apart about six months ago?’ Penny nodded mechanically. ‘Well, I saw her again. I was invited for a curry with a group of friends on Saturday night and she was there.’ Penny sat silently waiting for him to continue, the cold feeling in her stomach intensifying as he went on. ‘I hadn’t seen her since the break-up. She went off to Australia and she’s been there all summer.’ Penny shook her head as this made her think of Rick; Rick, the man who had dumped her in favour of another woman. And now this… She stifled a snort as she reflected that, once again, it appeared that the continent of Australia was conspiring against her. She did her best to concentrate as Owen went on. ‘Her name’s Sally and as soon as I saw her again I knew I was still in love with her. And she’s told me she’s still in love with me. It’s as simple as that.’ He finally summoned up the courage to raise his eyes and meet Penny’s stare. ‘I’ve been with her every day since then. I’m terribly, terribly sorry.’
Now it was Penny’s turn to drop her eyes to the table. Her head was spinning and it had nothing to do with the prosecco. Of all the things she had been expecting him to say, this wasn’t one of them. How could he just flit from what had appeared to be deep attraction for her to what he described as love for another woman in the space of a few days, hours even? She struggled to find adequate words.
‘So you’re telling me you’re in love with this girl and that’s that as far as we’re concerned?’ She watched the bubbles in her glass appear, rush to the surface and disappear into thin air. Just like her hopes for their relationship, she thought bitterly.
‘I’m afraid I am. Look, Penny, I know it makes me sound like a terrible person, but I really thought it was all over between me and her. Honestly. It all came as just as much of a surprise to me, believe me.’ Penny steeled herself to look up again. His beer was still untouched and he looked as bewildered as she felt as he carried on. ‘I like you very much and I really thought we’d got something, a real spark between us. Everything was going so well and I really thought it was all over between me and Sally. And now this… You’ve got to believe me.’
‘So, that’s it. It’s all over between us?’
He paused and then answered in a low voice. ‘Yes, Penny, and I’m really, really sorry.’ He looked it, but that didn’t help. Penny picked up her glass and drained the last of the wine before standing up and reaching for her coat. She took a deep breath, determined not to show weakness.
‘Well, thanks for letting me know, and I wish you all the best. And thanks for the wine. Goodbye Owen.’
‘Goodbye, Penny.’
That night, she didn’t
dream of Venice. In fact, as far as she could recall in the cold light of dawn next morning, she hadn’t dreamt about anything at all. Maybe it was because she hadn’t managed to go to sleep.
Chapter 15
The shopping expedition took place just before the Venice conference. It made a welcome break for Penny in what had turned out to be a dismal few days since bidding farewell to Owen. She had done a lot of thinking in the immediate aftermath of his announcement, as she tried to make sense of what had happened. The euphoria of the news from the Piccadilly gallery had evaporated in the wake of his revelation. She had felt herself strongly attracted to him and had really got the impression he felt the same way about her, yet he had dumped her and gone back to his old girlfriend. Was it her fault? Caroline had been very supportive, but it took an hour with Jimmy, drinking cocktails in a very gay bar, coincidentally less than a hundred yards from the pub where she and Owen had last met, to provide her with some closure. Jimmy, as ever, had been upbeat.
‘Well, it’s a bloody sight better to find out now, rather than later on, once you’ve surrendered your honour to him.’
His choice of language brought a reluctant smile to her lips. ‘You’ve been reading too many romance novels, Jimmy. Nobody surrenders their honour any more. Anyway, I’d rather not have found out at all. I mean, I’d rather it hadn’t happened.’
‘What hadn’t happened?’
‘Him getting back together with this bloody Sally woman, of course.’
‘But it wasn’t his fault, sweetheart. You can’t fight love, you know. Remember, love is a many splendored thing, after all.’
She was still thinking about Owen days later as she waited for the shopping trip to start. In fact, she had only been waiting near Marble Arch for a few minutes when a Bentley purred to a stop right in front of her. As Penny looked on, an elegant woman with a mass of stunning long blonde hair stepped out, her face hidden under heavy dark glasses. She walked up to a surprised Penny and gave her a conspiratorial grin. ‘Hi, Penny. Fancy a bit of shopping?’
‘Olivia?’ It was a great disguise and the hair looked totally convincing. She mentioned this to Olivia and got a grin in return.
‘I should think so, too. It’s real hair, just not mine.’
Penny was reminded of how close she had got to selling her own hair a few months earlier. She glanced over at the Bentley. ‘What about the car?’
‘I’ve told Arthur I’ll text him when we’ve finished. Now, where’s our first stop?’
They spent most of the morning working their way along Oxford Street, calling into shop after shop, some expensive, but most much closer to Penny’s more affordable end of the spectrum. By the time they stopped for a late morning cup of coffee, they had accumulated a hefty pile of bags. Olivia had insisted on paying for almost everything, and in most cases had bought two of each item, one for her and one for Penny. Finally they both slumped into comfortable seats in the café and relaxed after their efforts. They ordered a cappuccino each and Penny found it very pleasant to be on the receiving end of waitress service for a change. She looked round critically. It was much, much more salubrious than the Apocalypse, but it wasn’t a patch on the JC.
Across the table from her, Olivia was struggling a little, clearly unused to having such long hair, and it wasn’t long before disaster struck. As she leant forward to take a mouthful of coffee, her eyesight hampered by the dark glasses, a long lock of the thick, heavy hair slipped into the cup. Penny found herself giggling furiously as Olivia did her best to dry the coffee-stained hair with a handful of paper napkins. By the time she had removed the worst of it, Olivia was close to hysterics herself.
‘If I laugh any harder, I’m going to spill this coffee all down myself.’
It was a minute or so before Penny was able to talk again. She looked across at Olivia. ‘So, it’s Venice on Sunday.’
‘Are you looking forward to it?’
‘You bet. I’m really, really looking forward to it. I could do with a break after the whole Owen business.’
‘Oh, you poor thing.’ Olivia had been one of the first people to whom Penny had turned for support the day after her conversation with Owen, and this had made her realise just how their friendship was developing. Olivia had been very sympathetic then. Penny shook her head as she once more thought of what might have been with Owen, the laughter now long gone. She took a deep breath and did her best to change to a happier subject.
‘So, what about you and that boy you were telling me about?’
Olivia took a cautious mouthful of coffee, making sure her hair was well out of the way this time. ‘I’ve got some news. I plucked up the courage to send my boy a long, newsy email at the weekend. I got a reply last night.’ She looked across at Penny, her eyes shining. ‘He still feels the same way.’
‘So meet him.’
‘I plan to. He’s away somewhere until just before Christmas, but we’ve arranged to go out for dinner on the 23rd.’ She was looking very pleased with herself, as she had every right to be. ‘He can be my Christmas present.’
‘Fantastic, Olivia, I’m so pleased for you. So, tell me more. What’s he like?’
‘His name’s Jon, short for Jonathan, and I met him at that party last March.’ She looked across at Penny. ‘He’s got red hair and he looks a bit like Prince Harry. Anyway, as soon as I saw him, I just knew. We only went out a few times and then he had to go abroad, because he’s in the army. And then it was only a few days later that Daddy had his heart attack and, of course, after that, I dropped out of any social events.’ She paused to take another sip of coffee. ‘As you know, I sort of fell apart for a good long while.’ She managed a little smile. ‘Until you came along and helped me, Penny.’
Penny was really happy to see Olivia looking so much more cheerful and to hear that she had somebody in her life. After the depression caused by her father’s death, she badly needed it. ‘Well, you’re all right again now, Olivia. Look at you. We’ve just spent the morning in amongst thousands of Christmas shoppers and you’ve been fine. I reckon you’re mended.’
‘I think I am, or at least well on the road to recovery.’ She caught Penny’s eye. ‘So, what about you? How’re you doing now? Have you got over the shock of Owen’s announcement?’ She sounded concerned.
‘I’ve pretty much come to terms with it. When all’s said and done, I’d only been out with him a few times and we hadn’t really got serious, so I suppose it’s just water under the bridge. Freezing cold, smelly bloody water, but just water.’
‘I’m so sorry, Penny. But Venice’ll cheer you up. You’ll see.’
Penny nodded, doing her best to think happy thoughts. ‘Caroline’s been telling me about the fantastic hotel where we’re going to be staying, and even the place where the conference is taking place. Apparently the conference centre’s on an island. That’s amazing.’
‘You haven’t been to Venice before, have you?’ Penny shook her head. ‘You’re going to love it. The hotel’s one of my favourites in the whole world. And specially for somebody interested in art, Venice is a wonderful place to visit.’
‘I’m sure it is. By the way, thanks again for letting me take a good close look at the Bosch triptych. I’ve written a paper and I showed it to my supervisor from when I was doing my MA. She’s very excited about it and she’s promised to send it in to one of the good journals. If I can get that published, it’ll help my cause no end if I have to find myself a proper job. As for Venice, I’ve been making a list of all the churches, galleries and museums with artworks I’d really like to see when I’m there. For a start, there are so many amazing paintings at the Galleria dell’Accademia. I can’t wait.’
‘Excellent. Venice really is an amazing place. I used to go every year with my father and I know it well now. By the way, I’ve been thinking about going to an art gallery here in London myself.’
‘Exciting. Who with?’
‘Just on my own. Not even with Gilbert.’
�
��Great.’ Penny was really delighted. This was very good news. Apart from walking the dog and a few brief trips to the supermarket, this would probably be Olivia’s first real outing unaccompanied for months and months. ‘So what’s the exhibition?’
‘I thought I’d go to the Botticelli exhibition you were telling me about. It’s still on at the National Gallery, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right. And you’ll love it. It’s up on the first floor. Check out the Hieronymus Bosch paintings in the room next door as well. They’re not as good as yours, but still quite amazing.’
‘I’ll make sure I do. I’ll tell you all about it next time we talk. Anyway, while you’re in Venice, you really have to visit the islands, and you should take the boat across to the little island of Burano and maybe the one next to it, Torcello. They’re delightful.’
‘Well, just think, next time there’s an event over there, you know you’ll be able to go to it yourself.’
‘I really think you’re right. Now promise me you’ll call me every day from Venice to tell me what’s been going on.’
Penny nodded, delighted to hear Olivia sounding so enthused. Yes, she was well on the road to recovery all right. ‘It’s a promise. And enjoy Botticelli.’
Shortly after lunch, as Penny was upstairs in her room, making a start at packing in readiness for Venice, her phone rang. She didn’t recognise the number, but she swiped the green button anyway.
‘Hello.’
‘Is that Penny?’ The voice sounded very familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on it immediately.
‘Yes, who’s that?’
‘Angela Brookes-Webster.’
Penny almost dropped the handset and her heart sank. ‘Oh, hello. I thought you were on holiday.’ She did her best to sound pleased to hear from Olivia’s stepmum.
‘I’m off in a couple of days’ time, but I wanted to talk to you before I go. Could you spare me a few minutes this afternoon or this evening?’
Penny was bewildered. It was unmistakably Olivia’s stepmother, but her tone was polite, almost friendly. It was unusual, unexpected and very disconcerting. Penny glanced at her watch. It was almost half past two and she was working at the JC later on. ‘Um, I’m afraid I’m working at the café from four to ten.’ Maybe, she thought to herself, this might prevent her having to face a woman she cordially detested. Alas, it didn’t work.
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