That Certain Something

by Clare Ashton

  -

  Pia shuffled into the conference room with Ed’s breasts for company. They were the last inside and squeezed against the back wall. Obscuring their view were men in suits, journalists in jeans and bemused middle-aged women in overalls.

  ‘Who are all these people?’ Pia whispered, ‘I thought it was a small team.’

  ‘It is. But the investors are in today. He wants it to be a good show,’ Ed scoffed. ‘I recognise some of these hacks from his other rags. He’s even dragged in the cleaners. Cheeky bastard.’

  Pia stretched up on tip-toes and peeped over the shoulders of a tall man blocking her view. She could see Rafe standing at the front, readying himself for a speech. He turned back every so often to people seated beyond Pia’s view.

  ‘Shall I lift you up?’ Ed said. ‘Put you on my shoulder?’

  Pia frowned at her, not knowing whether she was serious. ‘No,’ she said, incredulous.

  ‘Seriously I could darling, a small scrap like you.’

  ‘Bugger off.’

  Ed laughed a throaty smoker’s chuckle.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Rafe shouted over the hum of the crowd. ‘It gives me great pleasure to welcome everyone today.’ People ceased their conversations and after the hush of shuffling feet, the room went quiet.

  ‘Out of all my publications I’m most excited about this one,’ Rafe boomed. ‘Everyone loves gossip. When you’re at the dentist, doctors or hairdressers, I bet every one of you picks up that copy of Heat or Hello. We love it don’t we? But some of us don’t want to be seen reading them, and some don’t want to admit to liking them.

  ‘So we’re going to give people a quality gossip magazine. We’re going to titillate them with all the juicy bits about their favourite TV and art-house film stars. We’re going to tell them about Stephen Fry’s latest diet and all those things they read in the online Daily Mail when no-one’s watching. Then we’ll slip in the odd serious in-depth interview to make them feel better about enjoying all that other stuff.’

  Ed rolled her eyes at Pia.

  Pia was surprised. She whispered skywards at Ed. ‘Don’t you think it’s a good idea?’

  ‘Oh yes, I think it’s a damned good idea. Wouldn’t be here otherwise. I just wish he wouldn’t be so crass about it all.’

  ‘Now,’ Rafe continued from the front. ‘This all needs to be presented with care, and I’m not the one to do that.’ The crowd murmured and some sniggered. ‘So my team of designers with a brief from my wonderful wife and my new editor,’ he nodded towards Ed who waved above the crowd, ‘have been working on the magazine’s image and logo.’

  Ed leaned down. ‘Well at least he had the good sense to delegate. His wife is fantastic to work with and a bloody good journalist. Award-winning writer on The Times. God knows how he persuaded her to defect here. Must be love,’ she muttered.

  Rafe continued. ‘We wanted the name of the magazine to resonate with all those who have good taste. And after checking with an expert,’ he turned to grin at someone behind him, ‘we came up with Mrs Bennet — Pride and Prejudice’s supreme gossip. So after a bit of brain storming with the team,’ he ducked down so that Pia could no longer see him. ‘I’d like to present you with simply Bennet.’

  He held up a large card with the name ‘Bennet’ in large blue letters and the silhouette of a woman’s head. It took a moment for the large version of Cate’s business card to sink in. Pia stared at it and her brain flooded with thoughts and questions.

  The designs were identical. Pia’s heart pounded with excitement at the implication. She snapped her gaze around the room, over the shoulders of investors, underneath the armpits of applauding writers. Every glimpse of a strand of blonde hair sent a thrill through her.

  ‘So while I’m at it.’ She half-heard Rafe. ‘I’d like to introduce our star journalist, poached from The Times, Catherine Hammond.’

  Pia started clapping along with the crowd as she scanned around.

  ‘Now my wife, Catherine Gillespie.’

  Pia chilled in an instant, Rafe’s words an icy bucket of cold water. With disbelief she stared at him. Her heart thumped while she held her breath, wishing it not to be true. Then she heard Cate’s unmistakable silky voice.

  Chapter 10.

  Pia was transfixed by the sight of Cate. It was shocking to meet the woman with whom she’d been so intimate as a different person. She was serene and beautiful although pale next to the tanned Rafe. She turned to him with a wide smile, except this one didn’t reach her eyes. Pia couldn’t reconcile the expression with the woman who had laughed and loved with her.

  ‘You all right shortarse?’ Ed said. ‘You’ve gone as white as my derrière.’

  Pia came to. Her cheeks flushed with blood and humiliation. ‘I’m not feeling great. Sorry. I need to get out of here.’

  She wanted to leave the room before her emotions broke through. The speeches over, people pushed past on their way to the door, and Pia and Ed were pinned to the back wall. Tears threatened and Pia gulped trying to keep her turmoil inside.

  Rafe’s voice shouted out. ‘Edith. You should have been up there.’

  Pia tried to push her hands through the crowd to escape, but Rafe was already upon them.

  ‘I wanted to introduce you to everyone,’ he said.

  ‘Bit late to the party I’m afraid,’ Ed replied.

  ‘Well I see you’ve met Pia at least. That’s great.’

  Pia edged round. She held her breath and peered up with dread.

  Rafe beamed at her. His arm was stretched back to Cate’s hand. She was a step behind, finishing a conversation with another employee.

  ‘Well while you’re here,’ said Rafe. ‘Let me introduce you to my wife. I haven’t told her yet, but I think you two would make a great team. This is Cate.’ He gestured back, and gave Cate’s hand a gentle tug. ‘Cate, this is our photographer, Pia.’

  Cate hadn’t been paying full attention, flicking her gaze between Rafe and the person she was bidding farewell. But at the mention of Pia’s name, she snapped round.

  Cate looked stunned. She stared, unblinking, at Pia. Pia shuffled and averted her gaze. She cleared her throat, and when she looked back Cate was beginning to compose herself, but was clearly not ready to speak.

  ‘How do you do?’ Pia said. She felt like she was going to choke. She put out her hand and almost recoiled when Cate’s cool fingers clasped hers.

  ‘I’ve heard great things about you,’ Pia managed to say. Still Cate was silent. Pia blanched again and felt sick.

  ‘You do look a bit peaky darling,’ Ed said. ‘Are you all right?’

  She couldn’t look any of them in the eye. ‘No. I’m not feeling well. Please excuse me.’ And without a glance back she ducked away into the crowd.

  Pia joined the flow of bodies, her chest heaving with emotion. The crowd swept her away from the humiliating scene. She was released into reception and she ran as far as she could down the corridor to a small vacant office.

  She stumbled inside and stared in disbelief out of the window. Below, Fleet Street was a blur through the first tears. She tried to control her breathing to stop the shuddering inhalations from descending into full blown sobs.

  ‘Pia?’ Cate’s voice was quiet.

  She could see Cate’s reflection pale in the window. Pia sniffed and swiped away a tear. She crossed her arms and turned round. Cate didn’t approach and hesitated in the doorway. She looked pained, but that was of no comfort.

  ‘Pia. I’m—’

  ‘I should have known.’ Pia cut her off with an unsteady voice. ‘I should have guessed that you were married.’

  A mix of shame and sorrow cast across Cate’s face.

  ‘I knew you didn’t want to see me again.’ Pia said, her voice shaking. ‘You didn’t once show any interest in where I lived, or how to contact me.’

  ‘I would have found Pia Benitez-Smith,’ Cate murmured. ‘There aren’t many of those in the world.’

 
Her reply confused Pia for a moment. It sounded as if Cate had thought of contacting her. Even now, that kindled a glimmer of hope inside her. She flushed, embarrassed at her desperation. Tears threatened again as reality flooded in. ‘But you didn’t,’ she whispered. ‘Because you were married.’

  ‘I nearly—’

  ‘Or you were about to get married.’ Pia frowned and stared at Cate. She thought through Rafe’s speech and the introduction with Denise. Back from honeymoon? His new wife? ‘My God. That night? Was it your hen party? The one you were avoiding?’

  Cate blushed and didn’t meet her eye.

  ‘Christ,’ Pia said. ‘Did you marry him the next day? On the Saturday? The morning after our night together?’

  Cate coloured deeper and kept her gaze averted.

  Pia reeled back. She rubbed her fingers through her hair and shook her head. Her thoughts and impressions of Cate were in turmoil. Her image and love of the warm and kind woman she’d met that night began to sour. Cate’s expression seemed to plead. Pia thought she understood Cate’s intention and her anger burned.

  ‘Look,’ Pia snapped. ‘I won’t say anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

  ‘That’s up to you. That’s not why I came here. But if you do tell him, please, not in front of anyone. Don’t humiliate him.’

  ‘Of course I wouldn’t. I think he’s a nice guy.’

  ‘He is a nice guy.’ Cate said it matter of fact, with neither fondness nor regret. It wasn’t something Pia could respond to. A tense silence hung between them. Pia stared at her, blood pounding in her ears and cheeks burning. She wanted to say a thousand things. A hundred things to shout at her, a hundred more to hurt, and as many questions filled her head. But the words stuck in her throat and she didn’t even know if she wanted to hear the answers.

  Cate’s eyebrows crinkled with concern. For a moment, Pia’s anger subsided, allowing her empathy to reach out and wonder at Cate’s feelings. She didn’t look guilty. She wasn’t begging for her infidelity to be kept secret. She looked hurt and, if anything, as if she wanted to comfort Pia. But the memory of Rafe introducing her as his wife intervened and anger rose up again.

  ‘Whatever’s going on with you two is between you two. I’m not going to cause any trouble. I hope you sort it out.’

  Cate didn’t respond and Pia hugged herself tighter. The silence made the humiliation all the more excruciating. With thoughts fighting in her head, Pia stepped forward to leave.

  ‘I want to get out. Please. Excuse me.’

  ‘Pia…’

  Cate reached out to touch her but Pia snatched her arm away.

  ‘How could you do that?’ Pia spat, her fury getting the better of her. ‘Just how could you touch someone like that?’

  And she meant it in every single way. How could Cate caress her with tender kisses along every curve of her body? How could she run delicious fingers between her legs, and mesmerise her with those adoring eyes that moved her so deeply it made her heart beat quicker than any physical touch?

  She glared at Cate. ‘How could you touch someone like that? And marry someone else in the morning.’

  She stared for a moment longer, her anger burning as fresh tears, and pushed out of the room.

  -

  Pia paced in front of old Brixton Prison with its austere walls of unhealthy-coloured brown bricks. She checked her watch again and glanced towards the tall wooden doors. Other people loitered nearby, waiting for visiting hours. A small door within the main doors opened and visitors filed through, trying not to appear as if they were either carrying something or planning something.

  She spotted her father as soon as she walked into the visitors’ room, his small wiry body sitting alert by one of the tables. He stood up and gave her that incomparable look of love, admiration and support that no-one else could give her.

  ‘Oh Dad.’ The tears threatened again. She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him as he rocked her back and forth.

  ‘Hello my lovely girl,’ he whispered in her ear. He stroked her hair and held her tight. Her resolve faltered and tears flowed warm over her face.

  ‘Hey come on now.’ He squeezed her tight. ‘Let’s sit you down. Otherwise the screws will get twitchy and think you’re handing me a spade to dig out or something.’

  She giggled and then sniffed a very wet sniff. She wiped her nose and the tears from her cheeks.

  ‘Come on. Sit yourself down.’

  They held each other’s hands in the middle of the table.

  ‘I’m going to take a wild guess,’ he said. ‘It’s this woman your mama’s been telling me about, isn’t it?’

  Pia nodded, her mouth pulled down. ‘Oh Dad. She’s married.’ She sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her hand.

  Her father raised his eyebrows in sympathy so that his brow creased into tens of deep furrows. ‘It did sound like it might be something like that from what your mama said.’

  ‘Well, she didn’t tell me.’ Pia sulked.

  ‘She didn’t want to rub it in.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘So you’ve seen this woman, this Cate again have you?’

  Pia nodded.

  ‘And she’s happily married?’

  Pia shrugged. ‘I assume so. She’s just back from her honeymoon.’

  ‘Ooo, ouch, that sounds like bad timing.’

  Pia took her hands away and dropped them dejected into her lap. ‘I feel so stupid. I thought she was special, and for her it was some easy last fling.’

  ‘Was it? Your mama said it sounded like you had a truly romantic evening.’

  ‘Did she?’ Pia was surprised and hopeful all at once.

  ‘Oh your mama talks all sensible and practical, but she’s a big soft romantic deep down.’ He grinned. ‘Why do you think a good old Catholic girl with conservative parents doesn’t bat an eyelid when you bring a woman home?’

  Pia shrugged in a sulk.

  He reached out and wrestled her hands back into his. ‘After all the trouble we had being together, we both swore to never stand in the way of our children and the people they loved. No matter how surprising.’

  ‘Was it a surprise? Was she surprised?’

  Her father shook his head. ‘Nah. Looking back, we knew when you were two years old. You were a right little tomboy.’ He laughed and then his face slipped into a more serious expression. ‘This Cate, did she make excuses, try to brush you off?’

  ‘No. No she didn’t. She was very considerate in a way.’

  He regarded her for a moment. ‘Trust your heart Pia. Always trust your heart. It’ll know what to do.’

  ‘Well, my heart hurts.’ The pain returned as she said the words.

  He gave her a sad smile and nodded. ‘Let’s hope you can forget her then poppet, and let that heart recover for someone else special.’

  Pia shook her head. ‘They don’t get that special. And it’s difficult to forget someone when you work with them every day.’

  ‘Ah.’ He sat back smirking and crossed his arms. ‘That’s why you’ve come to see your old dad.’

  Pia didn’t understand.

  ‘I’m guessing that you’ve come to me to tell you to stay in your job. If you wanted someone to tell you to leave, which would be very sensible I might add, you would have talked to your mama.’

  Pia was torn between giggling and desperate frustration. ‘It’s my dream job. Staff jobs don’t come up for people just out of college.’

  Her father nodded.

  ‘So you think I should stay,’ she said, the enthusiasm returning.

  He frowned. ‘Can you work with her, without hating her?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Are you still holding a candle for her?’

  Pia couldn’t answer.

  ‘Because if you are, you are going to get burned all over again.’

  ‘Oh now you sound like Mum,’ she said exasperated.

  ‘Oh dear, she has annoyed you hasn’t she? Calling her Mum.’

  P
ia chuckled and they were silent for a while. They exchanged a fond look.

  ‘Don’t give up this job Pia,’ he said. ‘You worked so hard at college. The first Smith to go to university. I’m so proud of you my darling.’

  Pia blushed at her father’s compliment, and the privilege of university that her father had never had.

  ‘You’ve got such a good eye,’ he said. ‘Don’t you give up. You don’t want to end up like your old man, trying this, that and the other, hating all of it and messing up big time. When you get it right your photos capture someone’s soul.’

  -

  The sound of water running in a washbasin in the ladies’ room trickled into Cate’s consciousness. There was no other sound. She was insulated from the office, Rafe and London. She leaned on the bank of washbasins with her head down. The marble top was cold beneath her palms except around her finger where her wedding and engagement rings pinched. Rafe ensured she wore them now. She flicked them round with her thumb, still not used to the way they felt.

  She lifted her head to face herself in the mirror. Her complexion was pale despite walking for hours in the heat of the London streets trying to contain the feelings and conflicting thoughts that Pia had so vividly stirred.

  ‘How could you touch someone like that?’

  She could hear Pia’s voice as she remembered the words that trembled with anger and hurt. Cate’s eyes became hot, and a heavy teardrop tickled her eyelashes. She blinked to spread the tears thin and checked her appearance in the mirror. Her eyes were glassy and she inhaled long and hard trying to suppress the beat of her heart and swell of emotion.

  ‘How could you touch someone like that? And marry someone else in the morning.’