She takes her coffee into the living room where she watches the fish for a while and feeds them their breakfast. She loves the way that they swim, open-mouthed towards the food, often missing it. Misguided. Like her. She decides that it is time to lighten her mood and she wonders why she has felt so unbalanced lately. She hopes it isn’t to do with Oliver; she would miss him if he had to go.
She showers and dresses (usual work uniform of a tracksuit), and she goes to her office and switches on her computer. She checks her calendar; she has a job that evening, so she pulls out the file on her client. She always gives each case its own file, which she sends to Nicole when the job is complete. Each woman provides her with a photograph of her partner, a list of his likes and dislikes, as well as details of his job and his usual haunts. Then Grace will research his main hobby or his job so she has something she can talk to him about.
That evening’s case is a boyfriend, rather than a husband -a boyfriend who after four years still refuses to commit to his girlfriend.
Men, Grace thinks, looking at yet another contradiction in her life. The ones she works with (or her victims) will not commit and want more than one woman. Oliver is the opposite. She tells herself to stop thinking about him. She doesn’t have the time to think about him. She wishes it didn’t have to be this way, but it does.
She is absorbed in her work when the phone rings.
‘Grace Regan,’ she answers.
‘It’s me,’ Nicole says, in her brash, slightly hard voice. Grace often thinks that she still sounds like a policewoman arresting someone.
‘Hi.’
‘Lunch today. Zigli’s.’
‘That sounds like an order from my boss.’
‘It is. I’ve got a great opportunity for you.’
‘Really? Tell me more.’
‘I will. At lunch. Be there at one sharp. Bye.’ She has put the phone down before Grace can question her further.
She finishes her preparation for that evening before she changes out of her work uniform, into a pair of jeans and a stripy long-sleeved top. Zigli’s isn’t too formal and neither is Nicole. She leaves the flat and, without realising why, she is smiling. She is smiling because today will not be another solitary day. She will have a welcome distraction in her boss.
Nicole is sitting there when Grace arrives. She goes to join her, ignoring the waiter, who tries to accost her on the way. They hug; their affection for each other is genuine. Then they make small talk while they order drinks and study the menu.
‘Ready for tonight?’ Nicole asks. Business first.
‘I’ve read the file, I’ve got the photo in my brain. The only thing is, as you know, I’ve got a list of four bars to try. What if he’s not in any of them?’
‘Call me, and I’ll call her and we’ll take it from there. I think he probably will be in one of them, though. She says they’re the only places he goes to. Luckily they’re close to each other so you won’t have to chase him across London.’
‘Fine. Then hopefully I’ll get him at some point. So what’s all this about? I’m sure you didn’t invite me here just to feed me.’
‘Well, I’m not sure that you’ll like this because I know how private you are, but I want you to hear me out before you say no. I met an editor of a well-known women’s magazine at a dinner party. Quite a good dinner, not the usual bunch of boring people. Anyway, we got talking and I told her what I did, and all about fidelity testing, and she was really interested. So, then she asked me if perhaps I would be interested in doing some sort of feature for her, to which I said of course because it’s free advertising for the firm, but then she came back with a better idea, which was to spend five days shadowing one of my workers, i.e., you.’ Nicole smiles and sits back.
‘I have to have this editor follow me round?’
‘Not her, a features writer – she didn’t say which one. But you’d be perfect. You’re the best woman I have working for me, you’re beautiful, intelligent, sassy, independent. You’d be more than perfect. Now, of course there will be no photos, and no mention of your name. It’ll be changed. But the events will be real.’
‘And if I don’t agree?’
‘Well, it is your choice, but I think it makes sense. Shall we eat?’
They order lunch, and then Nicole turns to Grace again. She prepares herself to be persuaded but Nicole knows better.
‘Do you remember Maggie, the woman you helped train a month ago?’
Grace nods, feeling suspicious because her mind is still with the previous conversation.
‘Well, we sent her on her first mock job last night.’
‘How did it go?’ Grace remembers how scary the first test job was for her.
‘Not good. She was supposed to be chatting up Mike.’ Mike is a detective whom Nicole employs on a freelance basis. He has worked with Grace, trailing men that were hard to pin down.
‘And?’
‘She got to the bar, and Mike was standing there prominently. She’d seen a photo of him but not met him. Anyway, she made a beeline for some random man who she thought was Mike. Mike said he didn’t even look like him. This man thought his luck was in, so at the end of the evening she asked him if she’d passed, he was completely confused and Mike finally stepped in when he’d stopped laughing. I told him it was a bit cruel of him, but he said that she deserved it. Not sure what I’m going to do with her now.’ They both laugh.
‘Are you sure I’m the best choice?’ Grace asks, reverting to the feature idea.
‘Grace, this is about the business, your job. You know that you’re good at your job, which is why I asked you. If you take this personally then don’t do it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s your job, Grace, that’s what I mean, and I don’t think it should be anything more than that to you. Of course it’s our livelihoods – both ours and the other people I employ – but it isn’t your life.’
‘I think I know what you’re saying.’
‘If it’s too much, too personal, then we’ll forget it.’ Grace is her best worker, mainly because she is so dedicated. Sometimes Nicole worries that she’s too dedicated, but because she is such an asset she tries to ignore those feelings. She wishes Grace didn’t take everything so personally. Nicole recognises her fragility and it worries her. She wouldn’t want to ruin her life. She fears that that is exactly what she is doing.
‘Would I be able to meet the writer first, before we committed to anything?’
‘Sure. Great idea. I’ll get her to call you.’
Grace leaves after lunch feeling as if she has been steamrollered. She goes home and waits for the phone to ring.
‘Hi, Grace, my name is Betty Parkin, from Modern Woman.’ Betty braces herself (rubbing her throbbing head slightly) to be charming. Charming, she decides, is much easier with a hangover.
‘Ah yes.’ Grace is expecting the call, but not so quickly. Nicole probably had arranged it prior to lunch. She doesn’t mind, though.
‘Regarding the proposed feature, I just wondered if you would be prepared to meet for a chat.’
‘Sure.’ Grace thinks she sounds nice, if not a little businesslike.
‘Perhaps I could take you to lunch and we could outline our proposal and see what you think.’ Betty is being friendly, the hangover is making that easier, although she is already regretting suggesting lunch.
‘Fine.’ Grace is unsure why she is being quite so uncommunicative, but she is finding it hard to think of things to say.
‘When would you like to go?’ They arrange to meet the following day at a restaurant in town. At least Grace is being well fed over this. Then they say their goodbyes.
Grace stares at the phone. She knows the magazine, but she never imagined she would be in it. Nicole likes the idea, she loves the idea of publicity, but Grace needs to ensure that it is the right thing for her, personally, to do. She feels vulnerable, even behind a false name. She would be open to criticism, although no one would know it w
as her. Perhaps she is being oversensitive about it. After all, free publicity could do wonders for the business, and although it is Nicole’s business, the more she works the more she earns. She replays the conversation again in her mind, unable to deduce much about Betty the journalist from their short chat. She thinks that perhaps she should do it, but she decides to ask someone for advice who doesn’t have a vested interest. She almost calls Oliver, but knows that he will probably be flying off somewhere or holding one of his millions of important meetings. Oliver adores her, she knows, but he cannot always be there for her. Instead, she calls Eddie.
He answers the phone immediately. ‘Eddie, it’s Grace.’
‘Hello. Are you calling me to arrange a well-overdue date?’
‘Not exactly. I need some advice.’
‘OK, but in exchange for advice I think I should get to see you.’
‘I’m working tonight, and I need to talk to you before tomorrow.’ For some reason she sounds slightly hysterical. As she hears this in her voice, she calms herself down, unsure what is wrong.
‘OK, OK, what’s up?’
‘Nicole’s asked me to do a profile with a women’s magazine. I don’t have to do it, but although it means a lot to her, I’m scared they might, you know, be horrible about me.’ Her objection sounds lame when she says it aloud, that much she acknowledges.
‘What magazine?’
‘Modern Woman. It’s a glossy monthly, quite popular, I mink.’
‘Photos?’
‘No, no photos – of course I couldn’t agree to that – but Nicole seems to think they’ll be sympathetic and that it might get us business.’
‘It probably will, or at least get you a load of enquiries. Can’t Nicole get one of the others to do it?’
‘I’m sure she could, but she wants me.’
‘Of course, because you’re the best. If you said no, would she be angry?’
‘I get the impression that it wouldn’t carry too much favour. You know how maternal she is, and I love her, so I wouldn’t want to upset her. I think this is a good opportunity for her business, which in turn benefits me, of course.’
‘It sounds like you’ve made up your mind.’
‘I’m having lunch with the magazine woman tomorrow, so I don’t have to decide until after that.’
‘See how you feel. But it could be a very good move. For you and Nicole.’
‘Do you want to spend Saturday with me?’
‘Day?’
‘Day and night?’
‘My God, what did I do to deserve this?’
‘Nothing,’ Grace laughs.
‘Shall I come round in the morning?’
Grace shakes her head: too keen, Eddie, far too keen.
‘Come round at lunchtime. I might even make you some lunch.’ They hang up and Grace types her new appointments into her diary. She wonders what Betty will be like. She begins to feel excited about the story.
Then she studies her diary again. Eddie will be a welcome sight at the weekend, a stabling force. Eddie is a friend. If Grace had enough people in her life to categorise them, that is what she would say about him. There is a physical attraction, but that really developed from an attraction to his personality and his manner. He calms her down and he makes her feel safe, whilst at the same time he doesn’t place too many demands on her. Their relationship is almost platonic. Almost, but not quite. Not quite, because that reminds her of who she is; of who she has to be.
Betty scribbles the time and the address of the restaurant in her Filofax. She has already booked it, or Hannah has, anyway. She replays the conversation with Grace over in her head. Grace’s responses were so brief that Betty was unable to gauge her character at all. Was it indifference or fear? She cannot imagine that someone doing that job would be scared. But Grace did not sound the way Betty expected. She guesses that it is all an act. She probably flaunts a nice, friendly front, when she’s really a bitch. Whatever it is, she will not find out until tomorrow.
Betty has a feeling that Grace will do the piece and she doesn’t know if she is happy about that or not. Part of her would like her to say no, but part of her knows that this could be a good piece, and a good by-line. A lot meatier than the sex tips, diet tips and work-related issues that seem to have dominated her time lately. Instead of features where she invented research, this time she has a real story. One that, despite her personal feelings, the readers would find interesting. So why, deep down, is she feeling so scared?
Betty isn’t a big baby; she can take of herself. She has always done so, although now more successfully than before. The timid creature that lived in her body for most of her childhood is gone. Betty is the sort of woman who knows what she wants and gets it. Her job and her husband are perfect examples of this. So her behaviour over the honey trapper, so wet, so pathetic, isn’t something she welcomes, nor something she truly understands.
Her hangover is still gripping her, so she decides to call someone for reassurance. She calls Johnny.
‘Hi, how’s the head?’
‘Pounding. Why did you let me drink so much?’
‘I can just imagine how you would have reacted if I’d tried to stop you.’ He laughs; his anger has dissipated as it always does.
‘I called her.’
‘Her, being the honey trap woman?’
‘Yeah, she sounded OK, but I think it’s a front. I’m meeting her for lunch tomorrow.’
‘Betty, you have to be nice to her if you want her to do this.’
‘I know and I was very nice.’ Betty is going to do a good job with this assignment and she is going to be nice to Grace.
‘I bet you were. Shall we go out tonight?’
‘No way. I need a long bath and an early night.’
‘Now that I can do.’
She hangs up and looks at the clock. She is willing the time to pass because she could really do with a hug from Johnny. Some reassurance from her faithful, trustworthy husband.
Chapter Six
Betty gets to the restaurant early, ten minutes early. She sits at the table and imagines what sort of person will walk through the door. She is expecting her to be stunning, that much she knows, but she also imagines well groomed, expensive looking. In Betty’s mind she looks like the mistress of a rich man. In Betty’s mind that is exactly what she is. No better than a mistress.
Betty has made an effort. She is wearing a cream trouser suit, high-heeled boots and her hair is swept up on to her head. She raided the beauty department for some make-up and also persuaded the beauty assistant to apply it for her. There was no way she will let Grace upstage her. She is unsure why it bothers her so much, but it does.
She orders a mineral water and sips it while watching the door. Every time a woman walks in she wonders if it is her. Suddenly she stops as she sees the door open again and in walks a woman who is so beautiful that Betty is immediately terrified it is her. She is not sure she can cope if it is her.
She is tall, almost six foot at a guess. Her hair is long and sleek (not like Betty’s bird’s nest), framing her face, which is a masterpiece. She is wearing a dark grey suit: knee-length skirt and long jacket, which is buttoned up, with nothing underneath. As she gets closer Betty notices her huge hazelnut eyes and her lips; she has never seen lips like them. As she follows a waiter to Betty’s table, Betty realises instantly that she hates her. She could have any man at all, with her looks, yet she insists on trying to seduce other people’s. She may say that it is her job but Betty knows this is a guise. She can spot a bitch at one hundred paces and Grace is a bitch.
Grace doesn’t know what to expect. She doesn’t know what journalists look like, but she is convinced that she will be either smart or trendy. She isn’t sure if she herself is trendy. Her work wardrobe is more classic, her casual clothes are quite simple. She thinks she passes as fashionable, but that is as far as she goes.
The maître d’ leads her to Betty’s table. As soon as she sees her she pauses for a moment
to collect her thoughts. Betty is attractive, her wavy hair is off her face, her make-up looks as if it was done by an expert and she is, as Grace thought, trendy, or very modern-looking. Grace feels relieved she is wearing her grey suit. She is relieved she is wearing a jacket that blatantly has nothing underneath and shows a hint of cleavage. She is pleased she applied lipstick.
Betty stands up as Grace approaches the table. She puts her hand out a little sooner than she should so it is there, slicking out like a branch of a tree. Grace moves herself toward Betty’s outstretched hand and shakes it lightly. She is not someone who is used to formal handshakes.
‘Hello, how are you?’ Betty asks.
‘Fine, thank you,’ Grace replies, sitting down.
‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘A tomato juice would be lovely.’ Grace smiles and, like a mirror image, Betty smiles back. Grace, unused to much female company, feels intimidated by the confident, soldier-like Betty.
Betty thinks that Grace is far too self-assured, and refuses to let her intimidate her.
After Betty orders the drinks, she picks up the menu and gestures for Grace to do the same. She looks at the food, and tells Grace what she thinks is the best the menu has to offer. She wants Grace to think she dines here a lot. Grace is only half listening as she looks around the restaurant, taking in the lunchtime trade. She sees a number of business people, some chattering women, some lovers. She looks at Betty over the top of the menu and wonders what the other people make of them.
They order the food when the drinks are delivered. Betty tries to talk Grace into a starter, but Grace insists on only a main course. Betty thinks she is one of those women who don’t eat, which would explain her thinness. Truthfully, Grace doesn’t like eating too much at lunchtime. Betty orders a glass of white wine with her meal, while Grace declines. Betty thinks that Grace is a control freak; Grace wishes she could have a drink, but knows that lunchtime wine goes to her head and she doesn’t want to risk saying anything silly. As they make small talk, they seem to be sizing each other up. Betty is looking at Grace the way a predator looks at its victim; Grace is looking at Betty the way a victim looks at its predator.
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