by Black, Helen
Harry greeted her at the door with a smile. ‘Wow,’ he said. ‘You look fabulous.’
Lilly thrust a box of chocolates at him.
‘Come in, come in.’ He led her into the open-plan apartment that spanned the entire top floor. The walls and furniture were all white, a shocking contrast to the black sky that filled the vast floor-to-ceiling windows.
His socks made a swishing sound against the tiles that seemed to stretch endlessly, the stone impossibly smooth. Probably imported from somewhere like Tuscany or Morocco. Lilly wondered if she should take off her shoes. She never bothered at home as there was little damage she could do to the battered and pockmarked floorboards that had been there as long as the cottage itself. But some people were more careful, weren’t they? Especially with things shipped in at the cost of a family car.
‘Drink?’ Harry opened an American-sized fridge and pulled out a bottle of Dom Perignon.
‘Just half a glass,’ said Lilly. ‘I’m driving.’
He nodded, poured the champagne and handed a flute to her. Lilly knew she should hold it by the fragile stem to keep it cool, but worried she might drop it. Torn between giving the impression she was a pleb and smashing a crystal glass on those priceless tiles, plebdom won out.
‘Sit.’ Harry pointed his flute to a sofa. ‘Make yourself at home.’
Lilly perched at the very end, terrified her dress might somehow bleed colour onto the white cushions.
‘It feels like we’ve seen a lot of each other, yet know very little,’ he said.
‘I suppose that’s how it is when people work together.’
‘Let’s rectify that,’ he said. ‘Tell me about yourself.’
‘Nothing much to tell.’
‘How can that be true?’ Harry slid onto the sofa next to her, one arm draped across the back, one foot crossing the other knee. ‘For a start where do you come from? What was Lilly Valentine like as a child?’
Lilly sipped her drink. ‘Well, I grew up in Yorkshire on a big council estate and my mum brought me up on her own after my dad left us.’ She laughed. ‘I’m making it sound so grim but it really wasn’t. I had my mum and nan to myself and they adored me.’
‘I was sent to boarding school at seven,’ said Harry. ‘Trust me, your childhood doesn’t sound grim at all.’
‘David wants to send Sam to boarding school,’ said Lilly. ‘He says it will turn him into a man.’
Harry drained his glass. ‘I hear time and hormones tend to do a reasonable job.’ He refilled his glass and put a splash more in Lilly’s. ‘Did you always want to be a lawyer?’
‘God no. I wanted to marry Adam Ant like everyone else.’
‘So what changed?’
Lilly paused. She remembered the exact moment when her world had turned on its head.
‘I was arguing with Mum as usual about school because she made me go to one on the other side of town and I just wanted to go to the comp with all my mates from the estate.’ Lilly could still smell the cigarette smoke from the two bus rides she had to take each morning and evening. ‘She told me to stop bloody shouting and that she was taking me to her work. In the days she did piecework in the sewing factory, but in the evenings she cleaned offices, so off we went, her in her overalls, me sulking for England.’
‘I can imagine.’
Lilly laughed. ‘Anyway, we stopped outside a firm of solicitors and she let herself in. I’d never been anywhere like that before so I was a bit intrigued, though I’d never have let on to Mum, of course.’ Lilly recalled the vase of flowers in the reception, how she’d touch them to see if they were real. ‘At the back of the building was the secretaries’ pool, all fax machines and typewriters and I stopped to have a nosey. The chairs looked super comfy and the desks all clean and neat. I knew how horrible the sewing factory was, the fibres in the air, how it made all the women cough their guts up and I said “Look, Mum, I get it. I know why you’ve brought me here. You don’t want me to end up like you when I can get a nice office job like this.”’
‘And what did she say?’
‘Oh my God, she gave me such a look. I mean she could always turn things to stone with one of her specials, but this was a look I’d never seen before. She grabbed my hand.’ Lilly could feel Elsa’s grip now. ‘And she dragged me away from the typewriters and up the stairs to the managing partner’s office. He had a sign outside with his name on. “Mr Vinter”, it said, and she threw open the door and pushed me inside.’
Lilly stopped as if she still couldn’t believe what she’d seen.
‘The room was huge, or at least it seemed that way to me,’ she said. ‘There was this vast wooden desk with a glass paperweight at each end and the wall behind the chair was covered in photographs of his family. Children in their posh blazers, him and his wife in tennis whites, a bloody horse …’ Lilly finished her drink, hoping she wouldn’t cry.
‘Your Mum knew you could do it,’ said Harry.
‘Oh, she was bloody convinced,’ Lilly replied. ‘Based on no evidence whatsoever she was adamant that I’d be a great solicitor.’
‘Seeing you in action, she was right,’ said Harry. ‘She must be very proud.’
‘She’s dead.’ Lilly gulped. ‘She died before I even qualified.’
Harry put his hand on hers. ‘Doesn’t matter. She knew exactly how it would pan out.’
Lilly could see how Harry’s patients put so much trust in him. His empathy was flawless.
‘What about you?’ she asked. ‘How did you get interested in the inside of people’s heads?’
‘Everyone I knew at home and school was completely screwed up,’ he said. ‘I wanted to figure out why.’
‘And did you?’
Harry let his head fall back. ‘I guess so. I mean, you get some answers, but you also get a lot more questions, if you see what I mean.’
Lilly did know what he meant. How many times had she thought she had her life worked out, only to find more complications lurking in the shadows?
Gem crunches her eyes shut against the pain.
‘For fuck’s sake.’
She tries to open them, but it just hurts too much.
‘If you don’t look at me, this won’t work.’
Gem knows she’s got to and squeezes one open. Misty’s hand is inches from Gem’s face, tweezers opening and closing like an evil silver fish. What do you call them ones that eat people?
‘Keep still and it’ll be quicker,’ says Misty and attacks Gem’s eyebrows.
Ever since she came in to work and Feyza told her what was happening with Bill, Misty’s taken it upon herself to help Gem get ready. She ain’t exactly being nice, Misty don’t do nice, but she ain’t being her usual bitch-self either.
‘There,’ she says and pushes Gem in front of the mirror. ‘What do you think?’
Gem checks her reflection. Her eyebrows look like two black caterpillars in a sea of raw red skin.
‘Ice cubes are good for making them settle down. Or frozen peas,’ says Misty. ‘But we haven’t got any.’
Gem don’t point out that there’s six foot of snow on the pavement or Misty will probably drag her down there and shove her face in it.
‘What colour?’ Misty asks and brandishes four lipsticks at Gem who just shrugs. Misty takes the top off the first one, screws it upwards and draws a fat pink line of it on her hand. Then she does the same with the second. ‘I know you don’t think any of this matters, that the likes of Bill don’t give a shit what you look like.’ She holds her hand out to Gem who taps the second line. ‘But it’s not about that.’
‘No?’
Misty plants one hand at the back of Gem’s head and holds her firm while she does Gem’s mouth. ‘No. It’s about putting on a front and playing the part.’ She steps back to admire her handiwork. ‘Like Feyza’s wig.’
‘Feyza wears a wig?’
Misty bursts out laughing. ‘What are you like?’
There’s a tap on the door and Feyza lets herself
in.
‘Jesus Christ, Misty,’ she shouts. ‘She look like the Bride of Dracula.’
Misty pulls a face. ‘A girl needs her armour.’
‘A girl need give punter what he want, and get it done quick too,’ Feyza replies.
‘Easy for you to say.’ Misty grabs a can of Elnett and sprays Gem’s hair, making her cough. ‘You’re not the one with some dirty old copper wanking in your face, are you?’
Feyza waves her hand. ‘We all must do some things in life that don’t make us so proud. It called survival.’
‘Yeah, well some of us need more help to survive than others,’ says Misty.
‘No more talk now. Find clothes for Gem,’ Feyza orders.
Misty scowls at her but does as she’s told and pulls out a suitcase from under the bed. She crouches and rummages through, muttering to herself.
‘You be okay,’ Feyza tells Gem.
Gem nods. She’s been with some boys before, done some stuff she didn’t like. When she was in care she used to let this boy called Sean touch her up. All the girls let him. It were like some rule that weren’t written down but everybody knew about it. If you didn’t let him cop a feel, he’d mess with your stuff, or tell the other boys you were queer. And then your life wouldn’t be worth living.
‘If he tries anything funny, just scream,’ says Misty.
‘No more screaming here,’ says Feyza. ‘You make this fucking fuss remember? Now we in position like this.’
Misty slams the suitcase shut and throws some black lacy underwear at Gem. ‘If that bastard had stuck to the script, I wouldn’t have had to.’
Gem looks at the knickers she’s meant to wear. They ain’t really big enough to cover her arse. But that’s the point of ’em, she supposes. The bra is a bit frayed around the edges.
‘What size shoes to do you wear?’ Misty asks.
‘Five,’ Gem replies.
‘These are a six, but they’ll do.’ She holds up a pair of high heels. ‘What about your name? What are you going to call yourself?’
‘I already told him my name,’ says Gem.
‘Your real one?’
Gem nods.
‘Shit,’ says Misty.
‘It not matter,’ says Feyza and stands to leave the room. ‘It really not matter.’
Misty looks away. Obviously it matters a lot to her. Like the make-up and the clothes and the wigs. Like what she keeps at the back of her dressing-table drawer.
Lilly slipped off her shoes under the table. She couldn’t remember when she last felt so relaxed. Harry popped his iPod into the nearby dock and the sound of jazz filled the room. Lilly sighed.
‘Everything okay?’ Harry asked.
Lilly wiggled her toes. ‘Everything’s perfect.’
He gave her a smile and cut up a loaf of hot ciabatta.
‘I know the circumstances are a little odd to say the least.’ He poured olive oil onto a white plate then dribbled balsamic vinegar across the sparkling green puddle. ‘But I’m really glad to have met you, Lilly.’
He offered her a piece of bread and she anointed it with the oil and vinegar.
‘I’m glad too,’ she said, taking a bite.
‘You’re different to most of the women I meet.’
‘What with me being sane and all,’ she said.
He laughed. ‘There is that. But there’s also the fact that you’re quite remarkable.’ He took a bite himself. ‘A bit of a one-off.’
Lilly flashed a wicked grin. ‘I bet you used to say that to wives one, two and three.’
‘How can you say such a thing?’ He placed a hand on his heart as if he’d been shot. ‘I’m deeply wounded.’
Lilly took the last disc of bread and Harry cleared the plate away. ‘Actually, I’m sure I did say that.’ He dished out chilli con carne into bowls and sprinkled them with chopped coriander. ‘The funny thing is, none of them were a one-off at all. They were all pretty similar.’
‘In what way?’ Lilly asked.
Harry took a pensive mouthful and chewed slowly. ‘Pretty rich girls without much up top.’ He tapped his temples. ‘You’d think I’d learn, wouldn’t you? Being looked up to and adored gets dull after a few weeks.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ said Lilly.
Harry wiped his mouth with a napkin. ‘Oh come on, I’m certain you’ve had your share of fans.’
Lilly thought about David and Jack. She was sure that they’d loved her once. But fans? She didn’t think so.
‘The trouble is, men are intimidated by you,’ said Harry.
Lilly nearly spat out her food. ‘Intimidated by me? Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Of course they are,’ Harry roared. ‘You’re one of the most determined and single-minded people I’ve ever met. For most men that’s quite a heady combination.’
‘Is it?’
‘You can bet on it, Lilly Valentine.’
‘How come you’re not intimidated?’ she asked.
He winked. ‘I don’t scare easily.’
They laughed and finished the chilli. Harry picked up the bottle of red wine he’d opened and held it over her glass. ‘Just a drop?’
‘I’m driving home remember.’ She placed her hand over the rim.
‘You don’t have to,’ he said.
‘I’ll never get a taxi in this weather,’ she said.
He held her gaze. ‘I wasn’t suggesting a taxi.’
Lilly gulped. He looked entirely unembarrassed. Brazen even. And why not? They were both single adults. Alice and Sam were safe with their respective fathers, and she could sneak in before dawn so Sam need never know. David might catch her, but so what?
People had sexual encounters all the time. It didn’t have to be complicated, did it? Just honest and mutual attraction.
Did she dare?
She removed her hand from the top of her glass without taking her eyes off Harry and he filled it up to the brim.
Gem sits on Misty’s bed, like a piece of meat on a chopping board.
The dressing gown she’s borrowed is too big and the underwear beneath is scratchy and uncomfortable.
Before she left, Feyza had poured a slug of vodka into a cup of coffee and pushed it into Gem’s hands. ‘Do what you need for speed him up,’ she said and disappeared.
Gem don’t have a clue how she’s meant to do that so she sips the coffee. It gives her a warm tingly feeling.
There’s a knock at the door and Gem sits bolt upright, like they’re supposed to when the headmaster comes into the room at school. Only nobody ever does. Bill lets himself in. He looks fatter and balder than before.
‘All right, darling?’ he asks and sits next to her, his knee touching hers.
Gem nods.
‘Good girl,’ he says. His voice sounds all raspy like he’s been smoking too many fags. ‘Has Feyza told you the score?’
Suddenly Gem feels sick. And scared. This ain’t like them other times. This is with some bloke who could be her dad or her grandad. She should have told Feyza to fuck off. So what if the house gets shut down? Gem can go back to thieving.
‘That fucking Turk would sell her baby for a couple of quid,’ says Bill, as if that’s a good thing.
Gem don’t know what to do, so she don’t do nothing.
‘Stand there, darling.’ Bill points to the spot in front of him, about a foot away, but Gem can’t move. ‘Don’t piss about, darling, we haven’t got all night, have we?’
He shoves her by the arm, off the bed, to the place where he wants her. She wobbles in the high heels that don’t fit.
‘Take the gown off,’ Bill tells her.
Her hands are shaking so much she can’t undo the belt.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ says Bill and undoes it for her.
The gown falls open.
‘That’s right, Gemma, that’s right,’ he says.
She lets it fall off her shoulders and then to the ground.
‘Beautiful, Gemma,’ Bill says. ‘You know what to do.�
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She watches his hand go to his flies and wants to tell him that it’s Gem, not Gemma, and that she doesn’t know what to do. Then she stops short. She thinks about what Misty told her. How this is all about putting on a front. Playing a part. She looks down at the body that don’t look like her own in the skimpy underwear, and she knows that it don’t belong to Gem. It belongs to Gemma. And that Gemma knows exactly what to do.
She lets her fingers run between her chest and down her stomach, letting them rest on the seam of her knickers.
Bill is in full flow now, his hand moving up and down like a piston, grunting like a pig at an abattoir.
‘Yes, Gemma.’ Spit flies out with his words.
And Gemma does what she needs to do to speed things up.
Lilly felt dizzy as Harry kissed her throat, opening one button of her shirt with a steady hand.
She hadn’t even finished the glass of red wine he’d poured for her but her head was spinning. She felt drunk and reckless.
‘Would now be a good time to suggest moving to the bedroom?’ Harry asked.
This was the moment for Lilly to change her mind. For her to fasten her top and head home. That was the sensible thing to do.
‘I think now would be a very good time,’ Lilly replied.
He stood in front of her and held out a hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet and into a tango embrace, leading her from the sofa, cheek against hers, arm outstretched.
When they reached the bedroom door, giggling like children, he spun her around and kicked it open with his heel.
‘Olé.’
‘Don’t you need a rose in your teeth?’ Lilly asked.
‘All out of fresh flowers.’ Harry patted himself down, found a pencil in his back pocket and stuck it in his mouth sideways. ‘Any good?’
‘You might get lead poisoning.’
He took it from his mouth and threw it over his head, behind him. ‘Let no one question the lead in my pencil,’ he said.
Lilly kissed him. A man who was sexy and funny had walked, quite by chance, into her life. That the same man seemed to fancy the pants off her seemed pinch-point lucky. But here she was, a foot from his bed.
Suddenly, he swept his arm under her and scooped her off the floor.