‘How about we take a rain check? Give me your number and I’ll call you.’
‘It might be better if you give me yours,’ he suggests.
‘No. Either I have yours or nothing.’ She is just wrapping it up, her job done. All the wife wanted was for him to approach Grace and proposition her. She wants to leave now; she’s had enough. Reluctantly he scribbles his mobile number down, and she doesn’t even look at him as she takes it and walks out.
Betty waits for about five minutes before following her out.
‘Are you all right?’ she asks as she meets Grace outside.
‘You know what? I could really do with a drink. Care to join me?’
‘Yes, I would.’ They both look surprised, briefly, before Grace leads Betty to another bar.
The wine bar she chooses is fairly empty, the rain outside putting people off. They find seats and Grace goes to the bar, returning with a bottle of wine.
‘Never thought I’d see the day when we share an after work drink,’ Betty says.
‘No, me neither.’ They both smile.
‘So tell me what happened.’ Betty pulls out her notebook, reminding them both of why they are there.
‘He was a sleaze, just as we suspected. He asked to come back to my flat, I took his number. That’s the job done.’
‘You don’t seem your usual self.’
‘To be honest – and, Betty, I don’t want this in the article -it depressed me. He depressed me.’
‘At least you’re not married to him,’ Betty answers cheerfully.
‘I’ll drink to that.’
They stick to the subject of Grace’s job for the remainder of the wine, knowing that tension could reappear at any time.
‘I guess we ought to get home,’ Grace suggests when the bottle sits empty on the table.
‘Yeah, I guess.’
Betty gets into the first taxi, at Grace’s insistence. She sits back and thinks about things. About Grace. About Johnny. About honey trapping. And she feels that so much has been left unsaid, but she doesn’t know how to change that.
Grace lets Betty get into the first taxi, an act of kindness she wants to do. It is as if she is unable to convey to Betty how she feels. How sorry she is that the bet is going to start. How she would like to take it back, but can’t quite bring herself to. How she would like to start again and see Betty differently. The real Betty, not the one that she made assumptions about. But, as she gets into the taxi, she knows that it is far too late for that.
Johnny is snoring as Betty gets into bed. She throws her arm over him and snuggles into his warm back. She cannot get Grace out of her mind. She wishes she knew the real woman, not the honey trapper. She feels bad for thinking she had a perfect life, assumptions she made without any right. She wishes she hadn’t accused her of being a whore. But as she radiates in Johnny’s warmth she realises that she will never like Grace. Because Grace, despite the niceness, is trying to take her husband away, and she cannot like anyone who would do that. She feels apprehensive all of a sudden, because the day, the evening, seemed to take reality away for a while, but now it is back. The profile is over. She has spent the last day in the company of Grace and the bet is about to start. Reality is back with a vengeance.
Grace gets into her cold, empty bed and feels alone. Her emotions are mixing themselves up and she doesn’t normally let them do that. She thinks about Betty, in bed with her husband, and then she thinks about the bet. She tries to imagine what Johnny will be like. She is convinced he will be tall, dark, handsome but boring. She hopes that is what he’ll be like. It will make things easier.
Betty can’t sleep, so she mentally writes the final feature up, something she often does when this occurs. But with every line she writes, the bet pops into her head. Grace will be getting ready to seduce Johnny, her Johnny. Betty’s hands feel clammy, her head begins to pound and she is unable to think straight. What has she done? Is she crazy? She must be barking mad.
She puts it to the back of her mind, pushes it away. She refuses to worry; she has nothing to worry about. Abandoning the feature she is writing in her head, she decides that she will take him out to dinner the following night. That is what she will do. She will dress up and take her husband out to dinner.
Chapter Nineteen
It is the first official day of the bet. The day after Betty walked out of Grace’s life, and Grace walked into hers. Into her home life. When Grace wakes, she feels a new sense of purpose, and she remembers why. No matter what anyone says, she is going to enjoy this. Enjoy the revenge, enjoy the feeling of being in control, enjoy seeing smug Betty get what she deserves.
As soon as she gets up she turns to her preparations: organising her schedule and making appointments. She has given herself a week to prepare, because she is busy at work and she needs to get things ready. She cannot just storm in. Preparation, as usual, is required.
She has lunch with Nicole, who helps her gather financial information, and who insists on feeding her and giving her a pep talk. Grace knows that Nicole is only helping so she can keep a close eye on her, but she accepts this because Nicole will come round in time. They sit in a small bistro while Nicole hands over papers and they both look at each other, waiting for someone to talk.
‘Grace.’
‘Nicole.’
‘I am going to help you, you know that, but I am not sure that you should go through with this.’
‘I have to.’
‘Grace, it’s me you’re talking to. Stop being all serious and uptight.’
‘I am not uptight.’ She knows she is.
‘Betty isn’t your best friend, I know that, and I don’t like what she said to you any more than you do, but this – this could hurt everyone. Including you. Especially you.’ Grace relaxes at Nicole’s words. She is only worried, and that is welcome.
‘Oh, Nicole, I know you worry about me and that means a lot to me, it really does, but I know what I’m doing.’
‘Do you really?’
‘Of course. I’m planning it carefully. Step one is to meet him. I’m making an appointment to see him as a financial adviser. That way there is no chance he can be suspicious. Then I’ll take it from there. How on earth can I get hurt?’
‘I don’t know but I just feel that you will.’
Grace laughs at the look on Nicole’s face. Her tough cop act has been replaced by maternal concern.
‘I’ll be fine. This is my job, remember. I’m a professional, and this is going to be a very interesting project, I really believe that. Also, I can’t lose, as I’ve told you. The best bet in the world is one you can’t lose.’
‘There’s no arguing with you, is there?’
‘You already tried it, Oliver tried it, and no, there’s no arguing with me.’ She smiles and, reluctantly, Nicole smiles back.
Betty wakes Johnny up with kisses. She knows that it is the first day of the bet, although she is unsure if anything is going to happen.
‘Morning.’ He smiles at her, her favourite smile, his sleepy smile.
‘I’ve got a busy day at work today, so I’ve got to go, but if you want I’ll bring you up a cup of coffee.’
‘Really? That would be nice.’ He snuggles back under the duvet and she stares at him for a second before she goes to put the kettle on and take a shower.
In the shower she thinks about things. She is going to go to work. Write up the honey trap feature. Have lunch with Fiona, as a reward – although God knows she hardly sees lunch with her boss as a reward – for getting the story finished. She laughs as she thinks about the stakes. She had to agree to have Grace try to seduce her husband in order to get her story. Fiona made sure of that. And she agreed to it. That is way above and beyond the call of duty. Unless, of course, her husband was unseduceable. Which, of course, he is.
She gets out of the shower, and wraps herself in a towel. Then she goes to make some coffee, which she takes to her sleeping man. She pokes him in the ribs, which stirs him.
‘Coffee,’ she replies, and, whistling, she goes to get dressed.
After Betty has finished writing the feature, Fiona calls her and tells her it is time for lunch.
‘Oh, who’s special?’ Hannah asks, teasing her.
‘Me,’ she replies, beaming. She feels good today. There is no way that she can feel any other way. Grace is going to learn the lesson of her life. She is going to learn that she cannot wreck all marriages, and she won’t even begin to wreck hers. Johnny wouldn’t fall for her in a million years. That much Betty is sure of.
Fiona has booked a table in London’s newest, trendiest restaurant. As they are led to their seats, Betty realises that it is crowded, full of trendy people, either famous or wannabes, and it is also really noisy. That might not be a bad thing. She isn’t sure she can sustain a conversation with Fiona for very long.
‘So, how is the feature?’ Fiona asks as soon as they are seated with their Bloody Marys.
‘Done. I’ll email it to you this afternoon and you can let me know what you think.’
‘Perfect. I’ve decided that as a reward for your dedication, - and Betty, I really do appreciate your loyalty to me and the magazine – I am going to give you more responsibility.’ Fiona smiles, and Betty begins to feel scared. She is not sure that that sounds like a reward.
‘How do you mean?’
‘More stories, better stories. You can also have more input into what you write about. We are still a fairly small magazine but we can grow and you can grow with us.’
Betty wonders what book Fiona has been reading. It really isn’t her style to talk like that. She also finds her motives questionable.
‘Great,’ Betty replies, reading between the lines. More responsibility means more work, more stories means more work, more input means loads more work. ‘And I guess that means more money?’ Betty smiles as Fiona suddenly looks a bit flustered.
‘Not exactly, but you will reap the benefits of it, though not immediately. I haven’t got the budget but when the new one comes up, I’ll make sure you are considered.’ Fiona knows she is pushing a bit hard, but Betty needs more responsibility. She decided as soon as Betty agreed to the bet that she owed it to her to keep her busy, distracted.
‘Fiona, did you bring me to lunch to tell me that I’m going to do more work for the same money?’ As Betty has been so loyal to her boss, she feels that she can say what she thinks – just for a while, anyway.
‘Yes, but you’ll benefit in the long run.’ Fiona smiles again but looks a little confused and Betty resists the urge to laugh.
‘Brilliant,’ she says, with a mocking tone that she knows Fiona will ignore.
‘I think so too,’ Fiona concurs, relieved.
They distract themselves by ordering and Betty is glad that she will have more work to do, for the next three months, anyway. It will take her mind off the bet – off Grace and the bet. She isn’t worried, of course she isn’t, but she knows that she is only human and she will be thinking about it at times.
‘It’s nice to have lunch, don’t you think?’ Fiona says.
‘Absolutely.’ Betty wonders if Fiona means lunch with her, or lunch in general. She isn’t sure.
‘How are you, Betty?’
Now Betty really does want to laugh. Fiona doesn’t like to concern herself too much with the welfare of her staff, unless it is necessary.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s just with the bet …’ Ah, finally Betty understands what the lunch is about. Fiona, or her of no compassion, is feeling guilty. Betty sees the second positive aspect about the bet. One, destroy Grace; two, get her boss’s concern.
‘Fiona, I know I was reluctant at first, but you made me see how much this could benefit me. I’ve got a lot to thank you for.’ Fiona chokes on her drink and Betty smiles sweetly.
‘Well, yes.’
‘It was a great idea. Cheers, Fiona. You really are a wonderful boss.’ She raises her glass, and Fiona, reluctantly, follows suit.
‘So you’re quite happy?’ She is still a little puce from the choking incident.
‘I can honestly say that I’ve never been happier.’ And for a moment, looking at her boss and feeling truly that she has the upper hand, Betty means it.
Grace is at home, preparing for a job. She has a message on her answer phone from Eddie and she is unsure how to respond. If he wants to see her, she will not be able to hide the bet from him – or maybe she will. Maybe she will keep quiet and he won’t know anything is wrong. She doesn’t want everyone to desert her. She has only Nicole, Eddie and Oliver. Oliver is already angry with her, Nicole barely approves, and if Grace loses Eddie … She shudders as she realises how she wouldn’t be able to cope with that. Perhaps she is selfish but she needs him. Perhaps she is the bad person Betty thinks she is. She shudders again. For the millionth time she is having doubts about the bet. There might be more at stake than she first thought; her friendships as well as her job. Maybe she didn’t think it through properly. She let Fiona steamroller her into it. Why? She is losing sight of why she agreed. Maybe she will suffer the way Nicole said. She might get hurt. And is it worth it? She has no idea.
The thought won’t leave her; the idea of a big mistake is staying with her. She doesn’t know who to talk to about it. Nicole would welcome her doubts and persuade her to act on them. Oliver, would do the same. Eddie is ignorant. She has an irrational need to speak to someone; her enemy.
‘Betty Parkin.’
‘It’s Grace.’
‘Grace? What do you want? I thought we weren’t allowed to speak for two months.’ Still on a high from lunch, Betty is surprised but pleased at the call.
‘I just thought you might like to know that I haven’t contacted him yet.’
‘Why would I want to know that? Grace, I would only want to know that if I was remotely worried about you contacting him, and I’m not.’ She beams her smile down the receiver.
‘Good, I just thought …’ Grace has no idea what she thought, or what she is thinking. She wishes she hadn’t called. She curses her stupidity.
‘Well, not to worry about me. I’m surprised you are worried about me. After all, you don’t like me much.’
‘But that’s not the point. Look, this bet, it’s not going to be easy.’
‘No, it won’t be, you’re right. My husband wouldn’t look at a tuppence tart like you, not even once, let alone twice. So calling me up with these stupid platitudes is a waste of your time and mine. So, if there’s nothing else …’
‘Nothing. Let the bet commence.’ Grace is now pleased she called. Everything is back in perspective.
‘And may the best woman win. Oh, funny, I think I will.’ As Betty’s laugh rings in her ears, Grace hangs up.
She isn’t angry after the phone call; she feels an immense calm. Betty really is as evil as she thought and now she can prepare for the bet without any of her earlier hesitancy.
She prepares her file. Well, her notebook. She knows that Betty is trendy and thinks that maybe that is the way forward for her. Or perhaps the fact that she is not like Betty might be to her advantage. Why would he fall for someone who is similar to his wife? He loves his wife, according to Betty, so that would make sense, but Grace has a feeling that that isn’t the best way here. She resolves not to wear disguises, but to present him with her as she is. Her character will be moulded, it has to be, but her looks will be her own. With that in mind she picks up the phone to her hairdresser. Then she makes an appointment with the beautician. He will see her, all right, but a little modification never hurt anyone.
‘What is with you?’ Hannah asks as Betty sits at her desk chuckling out loud to herself.
‘You know this bet?’
‘Yes. It’s all I’ve been hearing about.’
‘What do you mean? I haven’t been going on about it, have I?’
‘No.’ Hannah colours
. ‘It’s all round the office. Fiona told Michelle and you know what Michelle’s like.’
‘Tell me, Hannah, oh devoted assistant, are they taking bets, by any chance?’ Even the idea of this doesn’t upset her.
‘No. Well, not officially, with odds or anything. Most people are sure that you’re going to win.’
‘I am. Grace called me. She’s already riled and I think she knows that she’s made a mistake. There is no way she can win this and she knows it. That’s why I’m chuckling.’
‘Good for you.’
Betty sends Alison an email, thinking that it is all very good for her.
That evening as Grace leaves for her job, she wonders when the right time to see Johnny is. She decides that she will stick to her original idea of a week. A week to prepare herself and her plan of action, and also to tease Betty a bit. No matter how confident she sounded earlier, Grace knows it won’t last. She is one hundred per cent sure it won’t. She decides to number the days of the bet from the first day she meets Johnny. And this week is preparation week. It will still all fit within the three-month deadline. In fact, the more she thinks about it the more she decides she won’t need that long. Three months is too long. Again, she wonders at the reason behind Fiona’s deadline. She wonders at her motives – hers and Betty’s. Grace knows, believes, that if she had a husband she loved and who was faithful, she would never ever test him. She shrugs all those thoughts off. The bet is underway and any musings about motive aren’t necessary any more.
She walks into a private club to do her job. It is a sumptuous club, all large leather sofas, expensive art and men dressed in a similar uniform of Saville Row suits. She sits down at a table, giving her a good view of the bar, and she studies the faces. A waiter is with her in seconds to take her drinks order, and she requests a glass of champagne. When he is gone, she spots the man. Tall, greying, posh-looking. They are all the same, she thinks as she takes a breath and waits to make her move. All the bloody same. But maybe Johnny will be different. With this dangerous thought she receives her glass of champagne and drinks a toast to it.
Agent Provocateur Page 19