Christmas at Tiffany's (9 page)

Cassie watched her from the sidelines, feeling envious at how easily Kelly integrated herself into the group, dancing sexily, a ready smile on her face. Cassie felt like the proverbial wallflower by comparison. She still danced as if it was the nineties and got drunk on sugary drinks that only looked right with umbrellas stuck in them. Even worse, the Brooklyn hen party had spotted that her bar table – with only Cassie sitting at it – was available, and the hens were beginning to surround her and talk over her, in the clear hope of forcing her to move.

‘Hi.’

She turned and saw that Henry was standing behind her. He leaned over to kiss her hello. He was wearing a navy shirt and jeans and the lights kept bouncing off his hair, making it appear more golden than it had the other morning. She wondered whether his knees still hurt.

‘Hi! Where’s Tracey?’ she asked, looking around him.

‘Lacey,’ he corrected.

‘Sorry, Lacey.’

‘She’s on her way. She’ll be here any minute.’

‘Great. I can’t wait to meet her. Have you got a drink?’

His eyes fell to the pink glasses in her hands and Henry held up his beer protectively.

‘I almost walked right past you,’ he shouted. ‘I can’t believe the change in you.’ He indicated her hair, which was now butter-blonde and spaghetti-straight. ‘What did they do? Iron it?’

‘Perm!’

‘Seriously?’

Cassie chuckled, leaning in to him to talk over the music as he sat down beside her. ‘Not like the one Suzy had when she was thirteen! It’s a Brazilian one. This type takes the curls out rather than putting them in. It means I won’t have to blow-dry my hair for the next three months – which is just as well. I didn’t like to tell them I’ve only ever used a roller-brush to pill Gil’s sweaters . . .’ She stumbled at the mention of Gil’s name and quickly tried to hide it with a smile.

Henry was watching her intently, as if it was difficult for him to absorb the transformation from the previous morning. Aside from the perm, her hair had been cut to half its previous length into soft, framing layers around her face, which was now immaculately made-up, with vivid red lipstick on her generous mouth.

‘You just look so . . . different.’

‘Yeah, well, apparently I was a
severe
case.’

‘Of what?’

‘I’m not entirely sure,’ she said, grimacing. ‘But it was bad. From the looks on all their faces, it was baaaad.’

‘Why?’ he asked, baffled. ‘What was wrong with the old you?’

Cassie tipped her head to the side and smiled gratefully, her eyes tearing up slightly at the unconsciously kind gesture.

‘Oh, Henry, you are so lovely,’ she said. ‘Bless you for thinking I was okay the way I was before.’

‘But you were,’ he protested.

‘Well, you’re the only one who thought so,’ she said, smiling.

He smiled back, his expression soft and indulgent – almost nostalgic – as an amused smile flickered on his lips. His face bore the first traces of five o’clock shadow.

‘So what else have you had done?’ he asked, taking a swig of his drink.

‘Not much that I can show you,’ she said, causing him to raise a quizzical eyebrow. ‘But I’ll show you this,’ she continued, lifting the hem of her dress to reveal an inch of bald thigh. ‘What’s that about? What could possibly be considered offensive about thigh hair?’ she asked, palms up in wonder.

‘It’s not men who consider it offensive. It’s you girls all setting these daft rules.’

‘Then Kelly took me shopping to some sample sales. But none of it really fits,’ she said, tugging her dress down a bit. ‘I could do with a girdle!’

He laughed. ‘I haven’t heard the word “girdle” for a while. I thought girls were always in those Spanx pants now?’

‘Is that what they’re called? I don’t remember what we bought. It was easier just to let her choose and get on with it. She knows what goes with what. She can give me lessons later.’

Henry smiled. ‘Well, at least she’s done now. You can rest in peace, knowing you’ve let her play.’

Cassie spluttered on her drink. ‘You must be kidding! This is just stage one. I’ve got to keep this up now. I’m already booked in to have my nails redone on Friday, I’ve got to have my roots redone every three weeks
–
it’s the only way you can be this blonde, you see,’ she said earnestly. ‘Plus I’m seeing a dermatologist the day after tomorrow for a “procedure”.’

Henry frowned. ‘What procedure?’

‘Botox,’ Cassie mouthed.

‘Oh – now, that’s ridiculous!’ he exclaimed. ‘You can’t freeze your face. You’ll look like a robot!’

‘Better that, I’m told, than looking over thirty. Anyway, this chap Kelly’s taking me to apparently keeps you very “mobile” and natural-looking. Kelly’s been seeing him for years and I have to say I’d never noticed she’d had any work done. ’

‘Tch, they all say that, Cass.’ He shook his head crossly. ‘Honestly, that’s too much. Why exactly are you letting Kelly do this to you, anyway? I don’t understand why you’re being her guinea pig. It’s as if you’ve turned into that plastic-head thing you and Suzy always played with.’

‘What? You mean her Girl’s World?’ Cassie said, clapping her hands together with delight at the sudden memory.

‘Yeah, that thing. It’s not good, Cass.’

Cassie stopped smiling suddenly and a white, but soon-to-be-whiter, tooth bit into her red lip. ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘But sadly necessary.’

Henry stared at her for a long moment, suddenly catching a drift of the ominous undercurrent to all this experimentation. ‘Cass, what happened with Gil?’

‘He’s in Edinburgh.’ She took a deep breath. ‘With my best friend.’ His eyes widened and she took an even bigger breath. ‘And their son.’

‘Their
what
?’

Cassie nodded her head slowly, almost as though trying to convince herself. ‘I only found out on Saturday night.’

Henry stared at her. Today was Tuesday. In the space of three days, her ten-year marriage had crumbled, she’d left the only home she’d ever known as an adult, flown halfway across the world, been completely transformed and waded straight into Manhattan’s exclusive, high-octane social scene?

Cassie watched him put his glass down and study it for a few moments. He seemed to be trying to keep from breaking it. ‘The arrogant, supercilious, beaky little shit!’ he murmured.

Cassie looked away. She knew Henry had never liked him. He’d said right from the off that Cassie would be swallowed whole by him and his superior family. He had said that Gil would never see her as anything more than a pretty figurehead to sit at the end of the table, preside over the kitchens and eventually pop out an heir and spare. But Cassie wouldn’t be told. She’d fallen hook, line and sinker, and in the blink of an eye, the deal had been done.

‘God, I’m sorry, Cass,’ he said finally.

‘Mmmmm. Me too.’ Her hands were trembling and she was trying very hard not to cry. He studied her face and Cassie felt as if he was unveiling all her deepest insecurities.

‘So that’s what all this is, then? A new start, a new you?’

‘Exactly,’ she said, looking up and nodding vigorously.

‘And do you think it’ll work, all this?’ He waved a hand at her transformed persona.

‘It has to.’

He nodded encouragingly. ‘Well, Kelly’s a good friend. Although she’s not, shall we say . . . fluffy, her heart’s in the right place. God knows she’s gone out of her way to make connections and introductions for me.’

‘She’s a true friend. They all are. Suzy. Anouk.’

‘Have they had any say in this?’

‘They will do.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m going to be staying with them all in turn. They’re all convinced they know what’s going to make me happy again, so . . . I’m letting them show me. They’ve got it all planned. For the next year I’m in their hands.’ She shrugged. ‘I may as well be. I’ve got nothing better to do. And you never know – it
might
work.’

‘
It might,’ he agreed, though there was a note of scepticism in his voice. A few more beats passed. ‘So how long are you here for?’

‘Four months in each city. So here till New Year. Then I’m off to Paris to stay with Anouk. After that, London for the summer with Suzy.’

‘A grand tour.’

‘Yes, a grand tour,’ she echoed, trying the words on for size. ‘I like that,’ she said, smiling faintly. ‘Although possibly without commissioning any paintings.’

He wrinkled his nose, playing along. ‘PR doesn’t tend to pay
that
well.’

‘And being educated in matters of Louboutin rather than Leonardo.’

‘Naturally.’

‘I’m more fluent in French than I am in dressing myself.’

He gave her the once-over. ‘You seem fluent to me.’

Cassie giggled and leaned back. Her grand tour. Yes, it had a good ring to it. It made all this sound like an adventure – planned and wanted – not some desperate escape on a standby ticket.

‘Have you ever wondered what you’d be like if you lived in, I don’t know – Venice!’ she said, her eyes bright with the fantasy. ‘Just imagine – going to dinner by launch, reading the papers on a balcony at breakfast, hearing the bells of I don’t know how many thousands of churches, all out of time with one another.’ She clasped her hands together. ‘I might be a brunette there. With a bob. And I’d wear flat ballet shoes like Audrey Hepburn. And I’d eat prosciutto with figs for lunch and live in a really grand old building with vast, airy salons with gilded interconnecting doors.’ She closed her eyes at the notion. ‘I would be living a completely different life. I’d be a completely different person.’

‘Would you, though?’

She opened her eyes and found Henry staring at her.

‘I travel the world all the time,’ he said. ‘I change locations like other people change underpants. But I’m always the same person.’

‘So you’re saying you’re completely rigid? You’re never affected by the places you visit?’

‘They affect me, of course. But they don’t change me. I know who I am.’

There was a tense pause. ‘And I don’t, is that what you’re saying?’

Hot colour crept up her neck. His expression softened and he leaned forwards on the table. ‘I think you feel like the old Cassie failed – that she’s not good enough somehow and you need to make a new one. But all this change you’re putting yourself through isn’t going to change who you are. It’s just the shell, surface stuff.’

‘No. It’s more than that. I’m going to be learning about new things, having experiences I never thought I’d get to have when I was alone in that big house. I’m going to meet a whole raft of people who’ve led entirely different lives from mine, and who can tell me about new things. It’s not just about a haircut and having my nails done. I’m going to change from the inside out.’

Henry shook his head. ‘I don’t think it works like that,’ he said sadly. ‘I don’t think you can just cast off your personality like you have your marriage.’

Cassie looked down at the table, trying to hide her face beneath a curtain of hair. Oh God, he’d made her cry.

‘Look, I’m not trying to make you feel worse,’ he said quietly, leaning in to her, his hand on her arm. ‘I’m just worried about you.’

‘Well don’t be,’ she sniffed. ‘I’ve got the girls looking out for me.’

‘That’s kind of what I’m worried about.’

Cassie looked at him, shocked. ‘They are the best friends anyone could ever hope to have.’

‘Yes, but that doesn’t mean that their way of getting you through this is necessarily right for you.’

‘Well they all seem to be doing a much better job of living their lives than I’ve been able to manage with mine. It makes perfect sense to follow their examples.’

‘So you’re going to spend your time in New York drinking, dancing and dressing up?’

‘In between working and getting fit, yes! What’s wrong with that?’

Henry shrugged. ‘Well, I just hope you can cope with it, that’s all. I mean, look at you. You’ve just morphed into every Manhattan bachelor’s dream woman. Every guy with eyes in his head is going to be hitting on you and you’re going to have to learn how to deal with it.’

She shook her head dismissively. ‘That’s not really a concern. I couldn’t be further from wanting to date right now. And much less here. Kelly went on a date – practically at
midnight
– and then dumped the poor guy within ten minutes!’

‘But that’s my point. That’s how it is out here. And you’re not going to be able to hide, not looking like that.’

Cassie looked down at her engineered cocktail dress. ‘I hardly think I’m going to suddenly turn into a man-magnet who needs to beat men off with a stick,’ she quipped.

Henry stared at her. ‘You think? Because I could point out, right now, six different guys who’ve been looking like they want to shoot me for standing here talking to you.’ Cassie’s mouth dropped open, but before she could say anything he went on, ‘And if today was the first time you’ve had a wax or worn lipstick . . .’ He shook his head. ‘God help you when it comes to men. If you’re not careful, you’ll be pregnant or engaged within the month. Maybe both.’