talk about it, but you can guess the reason of course.
Anyway, she’ll call you back. Is that all right?’
Octavia sounded rather odd, he thought, as she said yes,
it would be all right, but she really did want to speak to
Louise, it was something fairly urgent.
Alec’s voice over the phone was very cold, very clipped.
‘I’m sorry, Marianne, I am just not prepared to agree to this
nonsense.’
‘And I think we should at least consider it.’
‘It will disrupt her education, bring her into contact with
unsavoury people—’
‘How do you know that? I have friends in the fashion
industry, perfectly responsible people.’
‘Marianne, please! There is a vast difference between
people your age who are fashion editors at Vogue, and the
kind of dissolute crowd who hang around photographers’
studios.’
‘Look, Alec, perhaps we should accept that neither of us
knows what we’re talking about. In this particular instance.
I do assure you I am keeping a very open mind on the
subject.’
‘And I do assure you mine is closed. Now I have to go.
Goodbye.’
Marianne put the phone down. She was shaking and near
to tears. It was twelve years now since she had left Alec, and
very occasionally she had wondered quite why she had
found him so intolerable as a husband. Incidents such as this
reminded her with a force that was very hard to bear.
Anyway, it had done one thing; it had made her want to
keep an open mind on the whole thing herself. She simply
would not be ordered what to do by Alec. Even on the
subject of their children.
‘Boot, hallo, it’s me. Sorry I couldn’t talk to you earlier.’
‘That’s all right,’ said Octavia. ‘How are you today?’
‘I’m fine. You sound odd. What’s the matter?’
‘I feel rather odd, as you put it. Stupid, more like it.
Louise, what are you playing at?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Don’t you? Don’t you really? Well, try this. I’m talking
to your husband, about Dickon, about how he was worried
about everyone dying and what if you had another baby,
would that one die, and your husband says oh, don’t worry
about that, there won’t be any more babies, and I’m about
to say well, what about the one your wife is having then,
and he stops me just in time, just in time, I might say, and tells me he’s had a vasectomy. Thanks a lot, Louise, for letting me blab away to you about all my problems, and
keeping it all to yourself about your own little affair. And
that you’re having a baby by someone else, God knows
who. Funny way to run a friendship.’
There was a much longer silence, then Louise said, ‘Oh,
Boot. Oh, dear. I’m so so sorry. My only defence is that
with Mummy dying—’
‘Your mother’s dying, so you forgot to mention that you
just happen to be having an adulterous liaison and that
you’re also having your lover’s baby? Sorry, Louise, but it
doesn’t quite wash. Whose is it, who are you pregnant by?’
‘I’m not pregnant.’ The voice was very sad, very shaky
suddenly.
‘What?’
‘I’m not. It was all — all in my mind. I honestly think,
Octavia, I’ve been a little bit mad this past few weeks.’
‘But, Louise, you said — your father said—’
‘I know. I thought I was, I honestly thought I was. I’ve
had all the symptoms, missed two periods, been so sick, sore
boobs, everything. But I’m not. I had a test. Negative. I feel
pretty rough about it actually.’ Her voice shook.
Octavia felt totally disconcerted. ‘But if Sandy’s had a
vasectomy, how could you even have thought you were? I
don’t understand.’
‘Those things don’t always work. I’ve heard of a couple
of people who’ve got pregnant afterwards. I mean, it’s one
in a million stuff, but — well, I obviously want a baby really,
because I managed to hope myself into Sandy still being
fertile. I regret making him have the vasectomy now. I
really do. But at the time I thought — well, you know what
I thought.’
‘Yes,’ said Octavia, ‘yes, I do. I’m sorry, Louise. I just felt
so upset. That you hadn’t confided in me. And that I nearly
dropped you in it.’
‘I would have felt the same. Of course I would.’
‘And I’m sad you’re still so upset about — about Juliet as
well. I didn’t realise you’d changed your mind about it.
About having another baby.’
“Fraid so. And short of taking a lover, there’s nothing I
can do about it now, is there? Silly me.’
‘Can’t they be reversed? Vasectomies? I read about it
only the other day. Yes, it was in the Mail. I’ll see if I can
find it.’
‘Could you, Boot? Goodness. What a marvellous
thought!’
“Well, don’t get too excited. Oh, you poor old thing.
What a filthy time you’ve had. Poor Louise.’
‘We’ve both been through the mill a bit, haven’t we?
How’s things with you?’
‘Bad,’ said Octavia briefly. ‘I’ve told Tom I want a
divorce. I think he’s hoping still I’ll come round. Forgive
him. All that crap.’
‘No chance?’
‘No chance.’
‘Your dad still doesn’t know?’
‘No, thank God.’
‘And Tom still hasn’t told you who it is?’
‘No. He’s avoiding talking about the whole thing. I think
it’s partly because — oh, I shouldn’t tell you. It’s something
quite different.”’
‘What sort of different? Tom’s not ill or something, is
he?’
‘No, nothing like that. It’s just that I swore I wouldn’t
tell anyone, and it’s to do with Tom’s business.’
‘Boot, who am I going to tell? Living in this backwater.’
‘You mustn’t tell Sandy even. He might talk.’
‘I won’t tell Sandy, but—’
‘Okay, then. I need to tell someone anyway. Fleming
Cotterill are in trouble. I mean, real trouble. They’ve got to
get hold of some more money fast, or they could go bust.’
‘My God. Really?’
‘Yes. Our house is remortgaged right up to the hilt, and
so is Aubrey’s. If the bank foreclosed, well
‘But why so secret? I don’t understand.’
‘It’s the pack-of-cards thing. If the clients he’s got, even
one of them, heard the company was dodgy, one of them
might pull out too. Then he really would have had it.’
‘Oh, dear. Yes, I see. So your little fun and games with
the wood was really quite catastrophic?’
‘It didn’t help. I feel a bit bad about that.’
‘You shouldn’t feel bad about anything you do to Tom.’
‘But it’s not just him, it’s the other people in the firm.
Aubrey’s so nice. And there are people there with young
families. You can’t help feeling responsible for them. And
then of course, if it does go bust, what happens to our house
and the children and everything? So I do feel worried, yes.’
‘He can get hold of some money, it isn’t difficult.
They’re drowning in money in the City, Daddy says. Do
you want me to ask him? Maybe he could help.’
‘No!’ said Octavia horrified. ‘Louise, you mustn’t mention
it to anyone. Please.’
‘All right. I won’t. I promise. Now then, have you
forgiven me?’
‘What? Yes, of course I have. I think I should be asking
you the same thing, not trusting you like that. I’m sorry
you’re so unhappy, Louise, so sorry.’
‘Oh, well,’ said Louise, with a sigh, ‘no doubt I’ll get
over it one day …’
Octavia felt remorseful when she put the phone down:
remorseful and very sad. Poor Louise. She must find the
article, maybe Sandy’s vasectomy could be reversed. She
buzzed for Sarah Jane, asked her to look for it and then
settled down to writing a full proposal for Lauren Bartlett
about the day at Brands Hatch for Next Generation.
A few lines in, she stopped, sat staring at her screen.
Something was troubling her, distracting her, and she
couldn’t think what it was. Something that had happened in
the last hour or so, something ugly, burrowed deep now
into her subconscious. What was it? What was it about?
Raking through her brain, going over the experiences of
the morning, revealed nothing. But there was something; she knew there was …
‘But would you want to get into bed with him?’ Aubrey’s
voice was thoughtful.
Tom looked at him quickly, then laughed.
‘Just for a moment then, I wondered, Aubrey.’
‘No, no, dear boy. Purely in the business sense. He’s not
just going to let us take his money and run. He’s going to
be there, sitting in on meetings, questioning our decisions.
We won’t be our own masters any more. Fair enough.
Maybe we don’t deserve to be. But we do need to find
someone who’s in sympathy with us. And I don’t think Mr
Foster is.’
‘In a perfect world, no. Nice enough, I suppose, bloody
tough, but as a partner, maybe not. Bit crass.’
‘Very crass. And my father told me never to trust a man
in a short-sleeved shirt.’
‘I think I agree with your father. His suit was vile too.
However, can we really be that picky? If he’s prepared to
come up with the cash. Illingworth hasn’t come up with
anyone else. We have two days left.’
‘I know, Tom. But it would be madness to get into a
relationship that wasn’t tenable. I’d like to look a little
further,’ said Aubrey, ‘hang on the cliff a bit longer. If
you’re game.’
Tom hesitated, then he said, ‘By all means let’s cast our
net a bit wider, but I don’t quite see where the perfect bride
might be found.’
‘I’ve got one idea,’ said Aubrey. ‘Old chum with a
boutique-style investment bank phoned this morning,
about a dinner he’s giving. I hadn’t thought of him before,
but I mentioned it and he seemed interested. More likely to
come in with us than the big boys are.’
‘Sounds good,’ said Tom.
‘Yes, but not a lot more likely, I have to say. Anyway, I’ll
talk to him later today, if you’re agreeable. Want to be in
on it? Around four?’
‘Yeah, I’d like to be there,’ said Tom. ‘God, if only we
could get one of those two new prospects to sign, it would
make such a difference.’
‘One of them will,’ said Aubrey easily. ‘I feel it in my
water.’
Romilly listened to her mother very carefully as she told
her that Christie’s had said they did want her for their new
campaign, that they were sending over a contract for her
mother to look at and talk to her solicitor about, that Ritz
Franklyn also wanted them to go into the agency and
discuss it with them. Romilly agreed that she couldn’t
possibly go into Choice before Monday, since she was
going away for the weekend, and she also agreed that it was
very important that Ritz understood that she was only
available part time, in the school holidays and at half term,
until she had done her GCSEs at the very least.
‘You might hate it,’ Marianne said, and Romilly said,
yes, of course she might.
Marianne also said that her father was still very against the
whole thing, and if they were to proceed it was very
important to be able to present him with the kind of
scenario which would allay his fears.
‘What are the fears?’ said Romilly. ‘Exactly?’
‘Oh, darling, your education being disrupted. You being
hurt. Other dangers …’
‘What, like drugs and all that stuff? Shooting coke in the
dressing room?’ She was smiling at her mother, agreeing
that it was an absurd joke. ‘And don’t tell me. He thinks I’ll
go anorexic’
‘He didn’t actually spell that out,’ said Marianne, ‘but—’
‘But it’s there, in his head, right?’
‘Right.’
‘That’s obviously nonsense. You know how greedy I am.
As for making myself sick — well, I’m phobic about it, aren’t
I?’
‘You are,’ said Marianne, smiling at her.
‘So — think we can do it? I don’t want to upset him.’
‘I think so. You really are being very mature about this, darling. I’m impressed.’
‘Well,’ said Romilly seriously, ‘it’s a tough business. I’ll
need to be mature. Anyway, we’ll go and chat to them on
Monday, right?’
‘Right. And maybe we should have a chat with the
dentist.’
Romilly went upstairs. She could never remember
feeling so happy. Happy and self-confident. It was going to
be all right. They were going to come round. She just had
to be mature and patient about it, that was all. Impress
everyone, including her parents, show them she appreciated
their point of view. Not behave like a baby. Ritz Franklyn
had said as much, when she had rung her in tears at
lunchtime, the day before, asking if there was any news
about the contract.
‘But don’t quote me on this, Romilly. Show them
you’ve thought it all through for yourself, that you’re
grown up enough to cope with it all. Which I know you
are …’
Octavia was just wondering how she was going to get
through yet another hostile weekend when the phone rang.
It was Lauren Bartlett.
‘Octavia, hi. Listen, how would next Wednesday be for
the meeting? And I wondered if you and Tom were around
on Sunday. Just a casual lunch, a few old friends. There’s a