A Class Apart

by Susan Lewis

  She turned away from him, aware of Mrs Halworth’s curious eyes upon her. Throwing Mr Halworth a dazzling smile she said: “Just a couple of weeks ago, actually.” She didn’t look at Conrad, but in a conspiratorial manner she leaned towards the older man. “I’ll let you into a little secret,” she whispered, trying to hide a smile as Mrs Halworth leaned forward so that she could hear. “We’re expecting our first baby at Christmas.”

  Conrad choked, and sat up abruptly as he spilled brandy over his shirt front. Ashley threw him an indulgent smile, and said, “Oh darling, you really should be more careful,” and she leaned over and began to mop him up. “Get out of that one,” she hissed in his ear.

  Mr Halworth was laughing, and calling for the waiter to bring more brandy. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” he cried. “We could have cracked open the champagne.”

  “You’ve been married a couple of weeks, you say,” said Mrs Halworth, who, just as Ashley had intended, had taken no time at all in working out the dates. “How very, nice.”

  Ashley took Conrad’s arm. “Oh, it is, isn’t it, Connie darling?” and she had the immense satisfaction of feeling him tense.

  “Tell me,” said Mrs Halworth to Ashley, “will you be giving up your job? When the baby arrives.”

  “Oh I’m sure I will. In fact, Connie insists, don’t you, darling?”

  “How sweet!” said Mrs Halworth. She turned to her husband. “Don’t you think it’s sweet?”

  “Sure do,” he said, beaming all over his face.

  “Excuse me,” said Mrs Halworth. “I think I need the ladies’ room.”

  Conrad and Mr Halworth both got to their feet as Mrs Halworth stood up.

  Ashley was steeling herself, waiting for some sort of reaction from Conrad. She allowed herself a quick look in his direction, but his face was inscrutable as he reached for his brandy. “I’ll have my secretary call yours tomorrow,” he said to Mr Halworth, “I’d like to get a meeting in before the end of the month. When do you go away?”

  Mr Halworth chuckled at the abruptness of the change of subject and turned away from Ashley. “Mid-October. Sure, that’ll be fine. By the end of the month. Have you contacted anyone else yet?”

  “Not yet, but I will. We’ve got a match at the weekend.”

  “Yeah, sorry I can’t make it. You playing?”

  “Yes.”

  It was some time before Ashley realised that they were discussing polo.

  Mrs Halworth came back, and Conrad said that it was about time they were leaving. He handed Ashley her bag, and avoided her eyes. She was beginning to feel a little nervous.

  When they were outside, Mr Halworth tried to insist that they ride home in the limousine, but Conrad was firm. “We don’t have far to go,” and added without a glance in Ashley’s direction, “Ashley enjoys the night air.”

  They waved the Halworths off, and when the limousine had turned the comer, Conrad hailed a taxi.

  He waited for it to draw alongside, then pulling open the door he turned to let her in. But she was gone. He looked around, and saw her marching off down the street.

  “Wait here,” he told the driver, and leaving the door open, he went after her.

  “Let go of me,” she said, as he caught her by the arm.

  “Don’t be childish,” he snapped. “And in case you hadn’t noticed, you’re walking in the wrong direction.”

  She turned to face him, her eyes flashing. “I fail to see what it has to do” with you which direction I walk in. Now let me go.”

  “Get into the taxi,” he growled. “I want to speak to you.”

  “I won’t! I’ll call my own taxi.”

  His voice was dangerously low. “Get into the taxi, or I’ll pick you up and put you in it.”

  “Stop behaving like a second-rate movie star,” she seethed. “If I . . .”

  Before she could say another word, he had lifted her from the ground and was marching back to the taxi. He dumped her inside and climbed in beside her. The driver chuckled, and drove off.

  “Madison and Seventy-fifth, the Montclair,” said Conrad, then sat back in his seat and looked out of the window.

  “That’s where I live,” said Ashley.

  “You want to go home, don’t you?” he barked.

  They said no more until they reached her apartment block. He got out of the taxi and walked round to open the door for her. She could see that he was still furious.

  “I think you got the meaning of what I was saying in my office earlier,” he said, as she started to get out, “so maybe you’d better wake up to the fact that you’re in the real world now. And while you’re about it, you can start thinking of an explanation for your inexcusable manners towards the Halworths this evening.” He got back into the taxi. “I will see you in my office tomorrow afternoon, by which time I will expect you to have rung Halworth and apologised for the lies you told this evening. Good night!”

  She had no opportunity to reply, he had pulled the door closed. The taxi drove off, and she stood in the street, watching it, until it had disappeared.

  Suddenly she began to cry with rage. Of all the stupid, idiotic and senseless things to have done. Instead of getting her own back, she had only succeeded in making a complete fool of herself, and throwing her position into even greater jeopardy than it already was.

  She turned to her door, and for the first time since she had been in New York, she felt truly homesick.

  The following morning Ashley called Mr Halworth at his office on Lexington and made her apologies. She had been up most of the night thinking about what she could say. In the end she had decided that there was nothing for it but to come clean and own up to her petty attempt at revenge.

  Mr Halworth laughed loudly when she finished her explanation, and told her that he guessed Conrad had had it coming to him, and that he was only sorry for her sake, that her boss had had the last word.

  By the time their conversation was at an end, Ashley and Mr Halworth were firm friends, and he invited her to join him for lunch the following week. That would certainly be one in the eye for Conrad. But Mr Halworth’s parting words were disconcerting.

  “Just one thing before you go,” he chuckled, “if you two really do decide to tie the knot, don’t forget to invite me to the wedding,” and he hung up before she had time to answer.

  She was sorely tempted to ring him back and put him straight, but she didn’t.

  The rest of the day was taken up with planning meetings for the Mercer Burgess campaign. The rest of her team entered wholeheartedly into her scheme, though there were one or two who were a little hesitant about the size of it. She didn’t worry too much about that; once she had persuaded the President of Mercer Burgess that she was right, she knew she would have everyone behind her. Arthur Fellowman agreed to see her later that afternoon, so she had to get to work on the formula she wanted to propose. She made no attempt to see Conrad and he didn’t send for her. She saw him as he was leaving the building at about three o’clock, but thankfully he didn’t see her.

  There was no doubt that Arthur Fellowman was impressed by her proposals. He called in his marketing people and the meeting went on much longer than she had anticipated, breaking up at six thirty with an agreement to call Ashley the following morning. Meanwhile, Arthur told her to go ahead with the idea, in theory, and see what else she could come up with.

  Her team were already doing that. It had shaken her confidence a little when Arthur told her as she was leaving that they had already seen someone from another agency that morning, though he wouldn’t name names. And that what they were proposing was also extremely attractive, and not half so costly.

  “I just want to make you aware of it,” he said as they walked together to the elevator, “because a budget the size you are asking for, not to mention what you’re asking us to give over and above that, is not going to be easy to get through the board.”

  She had thanked him for being honest with her.

&nb
sp; “Our board is no different to any other,” he said. “Never want to part with any money, but when they do, the less the better. But for what it’s worth, I think your idea could be a winner, provided the casting is right. Though, sadly for you, so could the other one. And no doubt there will be many more coming my way in the next few days. But anyway, best of luck, eh?”

  She fought against being disheartened as she went back to Frazier, Nelmes. Her idea would be the best, it had to be. But the best always costs more, and Mercer Burgess would just have to be persuaded round to seeing it that way.

  By seven thirty there was very little more she could do at the office. She had agreed to go to the cinema with Candice, and she welcomed the distraction. She still needed to see the producer, but Gemma was out on a recce already, searching the downtown areas for possible locations. Jan told her that Gemma would be back around ten, so with the art directors and copy writers assuring her that they were quite capable of making their own coffee and giving one another moral support she left with Candice, saying she would be back after the film.

  “You know, one of these days,” Candice said, as they paid for their tickets for Mona Lisa, “I’m going to get over to London.”

  “Yes, you must, you’ll love it,” said Ashley. “But let me know when you do, I’ve some very good friends there who will be only too glad to take care of you, show you around.”

  “You’re on.” Candice looked up at the clock on the wall. “Why don’t we have a drink before we go in, we’re early yet.”

  Ashley ordered two glasses of wine from the bar, and they sat down at a corner table.

  “What time are your folks arriving tomorrow?”

  “Oh God, I’d almost forgotten,” said Ashley. “What a time to arrive.”

  Candice chuckled in sympathy. “Are they bringing your little boy with them?”

  “Are you kidding?” said Ashley. “Alex wouldn’t miss an adventure to New York!”

  Candice laughed. “I wish you could see your face right now,” she said, a little wistfully.

  “Why?”

  “Because you have the look of a woman in love.”

  “I seem to remember someone else saying that to me once,” said Ashley, “about Alex. I can’t wait to see him. He’ll be eight next week, while he’s here, so I’ve got to think of something special for him to do.”

  “And do I get to meet him at all?”

  “Of course. He’s determined to come into the office one day, but I’d better make it a day when Conrad’s not about. Don’t think he’d approve, somehow. But you must come to dinner one night as well, and meet my parents.”

  “Thanks,” said Candice, and she picked up her wine. “How’s the research coming along for Mercer Burgess?”

  “Not so bad. It won’t be easy, but I think we’re in with a chance.”

  “Anything for Conrad yet?”

  “No.”

  “That sounded rather final.”

  “I don’t think I’ve got anything he’d be particularly interested in yet.”

  Candice laughed to herself, and watched Ashley’s face. “You sure as hell don’t like him much, do you?”

  “No.”

  “But why?”

  “If you’ve got an hour, I’ll tell you,” said Ashley.

  “Pity really.”

  “What’s a pity?”

  “That you don’t like him.”

  “Well, the feeling’s mutual, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  Candice merely smiled at that.

  “Are you, you know, seeing him?” said Ashley, and immediately blushed. She was becoming quite American with her direct questions, but they still embarrassed her.

  “Me! Good God, no.”

  “But I thought . . .”

  “You thought that I was crazy about him?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “I was, once. A long time ago. But he’s never really been interested in me. Now, well, I just love him for being him.”

  Ashley shook her head. “It’s beyond me how anyone can love him, just for being him.”

  Candice chuckled. “He’s not so bad, you know.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion,” Ashley retorted, and picked up her wine. “I saw him leaving early this afternoon.”

  “Went to pick up his sister and her kids to bring them to town for the week. Her husband’s gone away and she fancied doing a bit of shopping.”

  “Oh?”

  They both looked up as a crowd of teenagers came into the bar, laughing and falling over one another.

  “Oh no,” Candice groaned. “I hope they’re not going to be sitting anywhere near us.”

  “Does Conrad have a girlfriend?”

  Candice looked at her, and grinned. “You’re mighty interested in Conrad Frazier, for someone who can’t stand the sight of him.”

  “Not really. I only wondered.”

  Candice pondered the question for a minute or two. “Does Conrad have a girlfriend?” she repeated, finally, and looked at Ashley again.

  “You’re making it all sound very mysterious,” said Ashley, beginning to regret asking.

  “Well, it is mysterious. In a way.”

  “Well, surely either he does or he doesn’t.”

  “Let’s just say, he has someone in mind.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  Candice nodded, but didn’t enlarge.

  “Well?” Ashley persisted, “Are you going to tell me?” She didn’t know what she was getting so agitated about. What possible difference did it make to her if Conrad had someone in mind or not? But she had to admit, she was intrigued to find out the identity of the victim.

  “You mean you really don’t know?”

  “Of course not. I wouldn’t be asking if I did.”

  “He’s never told you?”

  “Me! I’d be the last person he’d confide something like that in.”

  Candice laughed. “I wouldn’t be too sure.”

  Ashley didn’t feel particularly comfortable with Candice’s rather odd reply, nor with the way she kept laughing. “Look,” she said, “I’m sorry I asked, and as I’m not really all that interested, shall we change the subject?”

  “If you like.”

  Ashley picked up her glass again and, surprising herself, accepted the cigarette Candice offered her. She only ever smoked when she was worried about something, or nervous.

  “Where does he live?” she asked, puffing on the cigarette in a very amateurish way.

  Candice gave a shout of laughter. “Ashley! You sure are the limit. He lives about three blocks from you, if you must know. And, in case you didn’t already know, it was him who found your apartment.”

  “Conrad? But Jan never said.”

  “I think she was probably told not to. Let’s face it, if you’d known, you might have refused.”

  “I wouldn’t,” said Ashley, her face a picture of indignation. “But why would he do that?”

  Candice shook her head. “Ashley, Conrad Frazier is in love with you. Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

  Ashley dropped her cigarette into her lap. She jumped up and knocked over the wine.

  “You’re mad!” she said, when order was finally restored.

  Candice was obviously enjoying herself immensely. “You mean you really didn’t know?”

  “Of course I didn’t,” said Ashley. “It’s not true.”

  “Well, I won’t argue with you. But take it from me, he’s absolutely crazy about you. No doubt he’ll get around to telling you himself one of these days. I must say, though, it’s not like Conrad to wait this long.”

  “I don’t want to talk about him any more,” said Ashley. “It’s absurd. The whole thing is utter nonsense. I don’t mean to be rude, Candice, but you’ve either got it all terribly wrong, or you’ve taken leave of your senses.”

  Candice shrugged. “Have it your way. But remember, I know Conrad, and you’ll see if I’m not right.” She looked up at the clock. “Come on,
time we were going in.”

  Ashley followed her down the steps to the auditorium, her mind in complete turmoil. How was she ever going to concentrate on the film now?

  In fact, it was less difficult than she imagined. It was so good to see her beloved London up there on the screen, even if Mona Lisa did major on the sleazier side. But she soon became immersed in the story, and if Conrad Frazier crept into her thoughts at all during those couple of hours, she hurriedly pushed him away again. The whole thing was quite unthinkable.

  When they left, Candice suggested that they grab a bite to eat somewhere. Ashley didn’t really feel hungry, but she agreed to go, to keep Candice company. They didn’t stay long over their food, Ashley wanted to get back to the office. And she had plenty to do at home, before her parents arrived tomorrow.

  There wasn’t much sleep for her that night. Every time she closed her eyes she could see the face of Conrad Frazier looking down at her, and she couldn’t stop her ears ringing with the words, first of Mr Halworth, then of Candice.

  TWENTY-NINE

  “What’s this?” said Vicky, standing at the door and laughing. “Taking naps in the afternoon now, are we?”

  Jenneen smiled, nervously. “I had a bit of a headache,” she said, running her fingers through her tousled hair.

  “Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  Jenneen glanced quickly over her shoulder before she opened the door wider. “Yes, of course.”

  Vicky gave her a strange look. “I’ve brought along some things I thought might be suitable for tomorrow.”

  Jenneen cast a look back at the bedroom, then followed her into the lounge.

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

  Jenneen shook her head. “Sorry. No, of course I haven’t forgotten. The pilot programme.” She closed the door behind her.

  “You look awful,” said Vicky. “Still, I suppose it’s nerves. Have you got any make-up remover? Best not try these on with all that make-up over your face.”

  Jenneen put her hands to her cheeks. She had remembered to take off the wig before she’d answered the door, but she had forgotten about the make-up. “Sure,” she said. “I’ll go and get some. Wait here.”