‘In Paris. Working on the cosmetics. With Annick Valery. I had a word with Iris Bentinck in New York this afternoon and she was perfectly agreeable.’
‘Well she would be,’ said Letitia briskly.
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean she’s your employee and your mistress, so she’s unlikely to refuse to take on your daughter.’
‘Mother, that’s grossly unfair. I admit that in the past we had a liaison, but it was very short-lived. And it was ages ago.’
‘And it’s quite over?’
He met her eyes in amused surprise. ‘Of course.’
‘I see. Well anyway, what has Paris got to do with Iris? She’s in New York.’
‘Well, she’s in charge of Juliana worldwide. As a courtesy I had to consult her.’
‘I see. Well anyway, I’m delighted about Roz. Give her my love.’
‘She’s coming down to Marriotts for the weekend. Would you like to join us? Several people are coming, including Nancy Craig. She’s very knowledgeable about horses.’
‘No, I don’t think so, thank you,’ said Letitia. ‘I think I may have things to do in London. Will Camilla be there? I don’t suppose Roz will be very pleased if she is.’
‘No, she won’t,’ he said shortly.
‘Oh. I thought you said she was over here.’
‘She is. But she’s not spending the weekend with me.’
‘Ah. Julian, just exactly what is going on with Camilla?’
‘Nothing,’ he said lightly, ‘no more or less than there ever was. We have a perfect arrangement. It suits us very well. Well, as a matter of fact, we are changing things a little. Camilla is buying her own house. In Knightsbridge.’
‘Really? Why?’
‘Oh, it’s entirely her idea,’ he said easily. ‘Like most things she does. One of her feminist theories. She says she doesn’t enjoy the role of surrogate wife and she wishes to be geographically independent from me. She says she wants to be her own woman; one of her less attractive American expressions.’
‘I see.’
He looked at her. ‘Mother, don’t look at me like that. Camilla is not some downtrodden housewife, you know. The move was her idea. I just told you. Things suit us very well.’
‘They suit you very well,’ said Letitia. ‘Sometimes I wonder about Camilla.’
‘Well,’ he said, getting up, ‘I must go. I’m going out to dinner.’
‘Who with?’
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘no one you’d know. Bye, Mother. Enjoy your calculator.’
‘Goodbye, Julian.’
She looked after his tall figure with something close to dislike. She had never expected to feel sorry for Camilla, but just occasionally these days she did.
The last person to arrive was Roz. ‘Well,’ said Letitia, ‘this completes the family party. First your mother then your father. How are you, darling?’
‘Very well, thank you. I’ve had the most marvellous time in New York.’
‘I know. Your father’s been worrying about it.’
‘Has he? What did he tell you?’
‘Oh, nothing much. That you have a very unsuitable boyfriend.’
‘Oh, he’s so possessive. Michael isn’t my boyfriend anyway. Just a friend.’
Letitia looked at the necklace that had so worried Julian and changed the subject.
‘I gather that Camilla will be round a bit less.’
‘Really?’ Roz’s face brightened. ‘What’s happened?’
‘She’s moving out of Hanover Terrace.’
‘She’s not! That’s really good news. Oh, it’s so exactly like Daddy not to tell me. I had lunch with him only today. How do you know?’
‘Your father told me.’
‘But why?’
‘Oh, darling, I don’t know. The official reason is that she wants to be her own woman. I think that was the phrase. Poor Camilla.’
‘I never thought to hear you say poor Camilla. I suppose he’s got some new bird.’
‘I daresay. And I do feel sorry for her just at the moment. She’s been very loyal to him, after all.’
‘Granny Letitia, lots of people have been loyal to him. He’s just not loyal back.’
Letitia sighed. ‘You see your father very clearly, don’t you, darling?’
‘Yes, well, I’ve had ample opportunity to study him over the
years. Not as much as most daughters, of course, but still enough. Anyway, I’m going to start working for him now.’
‘I know. He told me.’
‘And?’
‘Well, I’m so pleased, darling. And so is he. Thrilled. He loves you very much, Roz. I wish you’d believe that. And he’s always wanted this. I hear you’re going to be in Paris.’
‘Yes. I’d rather New York, of course.’
‘No doubt,’ said Letitia, with a gleam in her eye, ‘that’s why you’re going to Paris.’
‘Yes.’
Letitia looked at Roz and smiled. ‘Well anyway, I do think you’ll enjoy it and have a marvellous time. Do you want to have supper with me, darling?’
‘No, really, I can’t. I’m going round to see Susan. Another time perhaps, before I go.’
‘Yes. You’re very fond of Susan, aren’t you?’
‘Yes. Very, very fond. She’s been really good to me. Ever since I can remember. Even when I was a really awful teenager, I always felt she was on my side. And she never dishes out all that nauseating horse manure about how much my parents adore me, and how lucky I am. She sees everything terribly straight. She was in New York last month,’ she said suddenly, ‘and met Michael. She really liked him.’
‘Good,’ said Letitia, ‘if she liked him, he’s probably nice. I wish Susan could get married,’ she added with a sigh. ‘She deserves some happiness.’
‘Oh, I don’t think she’s unhappy. Anyway, she may be going to marry Richard Brookes. Oh, God, I shouldn’t have told you. Now Granny, you’re not to gossip about that. You’re not to.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ said Letitia, her purply-blue eyes very wide. ‘But I am delighted.’
‘So am I. Just thank goodness she didn’t marry Daddy, that’s all. Did you know he asked her?’
‘Yes,’ said Letitia, ‘yes, she told me. Good gracious, you are close to her, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘And why do you think that would have been such a bad idea?’
‘Well,’ said Roz, ‘don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ said Letitia, ‘yes, I’m very much afraid I do.’
Los Angeles, 1980
MILES HAD GRADUATED
from Berkeley, to his own surprise as much as everyone else’s, summa cum laude in Mathematics.
He walked across the college lawns, towards Hugo and Mrs Kelly who had attended his graduation along with Father Kennedy (an ill-assorted trio, he thought, but what the hell), smiling happily. He looked superb; a beautiful, successful, golden boy. He had had four glorious years; it showed.
‘Hi.’
‘Hello, Miles. Well done.’
‘Thanks, Hugo.’
Mrs Kelly’s eyes were full of tears. She was cross about them, and sniffed fiercely. ‘Congratulations, Miles. I wish your ma was here.’
‘So do I.’ But he didn’t look sad. He didn’t feel sad. Not really. It was too long ago. It was the future that mattered now.
Miles looked towards it, assured, successful, easy, and felt deeply pleased with himself.
Later that night, when they were home and Father Kennedy had gone back to the refuge, the three of them sat in the house in Latego Canyon and watched the sunset.
‘What next then, Miles?’ said Hugo.
‘Well, you tell me,’ said Miles cheerfully.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I kind of thought you would be helping.’
‘In what way?’
‘Getting me a job.’
‘Oh, no, Miles, you’ve misunderstood me, I’m afraid. I’ve no intention of finding you a job.’
‘God, Hugo, why not? You’re a rich man. You have a company. Can’t it find a space for me?’
‘No. It can’t.’
Miles was genuinely astounded; he looked physically winded, betrayed.
‘But why not?’
‘Because I simply don’t believe in that sort of thing.’
Miles shook his head, smiling.
‘I’m just not hearing all this.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, all these years, I’ve been slaving away–’
‘At my expense.’
‘OK, but you offered. Slaving away, thinking it was all with a clear end in view. That you’d help me get a real good job.’
‘I will help you, Miles. But I’m not giving you one.’
Miles stood up. He looked at Hugo with deep contempt.
‘I just ean’t believe anyone can be so mean.’
‘Miles!’ said Mrs Kelly. ‘How dare you. After all that Mr Dashwood has done.’
‘What’s he done?’ said Miles. ‘Signed a few cheques. Is he going to put himself on the line, present me to his company, his fancy friends and associates? He is not. I’m on my own now, Hugo, is that it?’
‘Possibly. With a damn good college education behind you. I don’t call that alone.’
‘You’ve built me up, given me fancy ideas and a smart education, encouraged me to think I was worth something, taken me away from my friends, and now you’re dropping me just back where I belonged. Well thanks a lot.’
‘This really is the most extraordinary way to look at things, Miles.’
‘Is it? I’d have thought it was your way that was extraordinary. To have the power to help and refuse it.’
‘I’m prepared to do what I can. To speak to some associates, perhaps. To give you good references.’
‘Oh, spare me. Don’t bother. I don’t want any lousy job anyway. I never did. It was all your idea. I’m going to see Joanna.’
‘Perhaps she’ll put some sense into your head,’ said Hugo. He was white and shaken.
‘Perhaps she will. But not the way you mean. Good night, Hugo.’
‘I’m real sorry, Mr Dashwood’ said Mrs Kelly. ‘I would never have believed it.’
‘No,’ said Hugo, ‘neither would I. Well, maybe Joanna will help. She’s a very sensible young woman.’
Joanna didn’t help. She couldn’t help. Nobody could. Miles had invested four years of very hard work in what he thought was an easy option of a future, and now he felt cheated of it. And he had no intention of working any more.
He took to the beach. He joined the other surf bums who made it their life; he spent every day waiting for the wave. Or riding it. Occasionally earning a little money. He would pump gas. Deliver the odd grocery order. Serve in Alice’s; maybe push a little grass. He smoked a lot of grass. Nothing more harmful than that; they all did. It was a strong brotherhood they had, the surfers. They had total loyalty to each other; none at all for the geeks, the incompetent newcomers who got in the way. Their only concern was waiting for the bitchin’, the real quality surf, and enjoying it.
Joanna tried. She really tried. She argued, she pleaded, she threatened. She kept asking him why a person with a fine degree, a good brain, should just drop out, just like that. Let his folks down.
‘I don’t have any folks. Not really. And the ones who want to be, let me down.’
‘Miles, that’s ridiculous. Mr Dashwood did so much for you.’
‘Nothing difficult. He won’t help when it’s really needed.’
She looked at him scornfully. ‘You’re really pathetic.’
‘You have a right to your opinion.’
Joanna was working in the costume studio at Parmount. She loved it. She was happy, successful. She wanted Miles to be successful too. She hated what he had become. But she still loved him. She couldn’t quite walk out on him. Besides, she felt, in a strange way he still needed her. He didn’t.
Mrs Kelly tried too. ‘Miles, for God’s sake. Is this what I gave up my home and my friends for? So you could spend your life bumming about on that surf? Pull yourself together. Your mother would be ashamed.’
‘I don’t think so. I think she’d understand.’
Mrs Kelly thought of going back home to Ohio. She couldn’t bear to see Miles throwing his life away. But like Joanna, she felt that deep down he needed her.
Hugo came from time to time. All that ever happened was
that he and Miles had terrible rows. Once Mrs Kelly had said couldn’t he maybe do what Miles wanted, give him a job. Hugo said he couldn’t. He really couldn’t. Especially not now. Not after all Miles had said. But he would stay in touch. And he begged Mrs Kelly not to give up. He felt Miles needed her. Needed them all.
But Miles didn’t need anybody. All he needed in the world was the surf and the sun, and his board, and the sweet dizzy feeling that was like sex, of elation and release when he caught a good wave and rode it in to the shore.
And nobody was going to take it away from him.
London, Paris and New York, 1980–82
ANNICK VALERY
,
WHO
had expected to dislike Roz heartily, and to find working with her an unpleasant experience, found very little in her work to criticize and, even more to her own surprise, liked her very much.
The Paris office of Juliana was the least active, from a marketing point of view; most of the creative work on the cosmetics was done in London, with a considerable input from New York.
Roz found herself working as a junior brand manager on the colour ranges (as opposed to skin care and perfume), which meant to a large degree simply watching sales figures, overseeing the translation on packaging, checking distribution, watching and adjusting price levels, and rubber stamping media schedules. It was not inspiring, it allowed little if any scope for creative flair and it involved an enormous amount of tedious routine work. She could have sulked; she could have traded on her position and slacked; she could have thrown her weight around. She did none of those things; she worked very hard and efficiently, made modest suggestions about prices and packaging, always had her paper work up to date and made a
point of spending at least one day a week behind the counter in one or other of Juliana’s outlets.
Annick reported very favourably on her to Julian after the first six months, and passed on a couple of suggestions Roz had made which were clearly based on extremely sound judgement.
‘She is a clever girl. She does not mind what she does. And she works very hard. She suggested to me that we price up all the lipsticks and make the eye shadows a slightly more budget line. And sell them together. Just as a promotion. I think it will work.’
‘Why?’ said Julian. ‘Sounds a bit cockeyed to me.’
‘Because she says women use up their lipsticks and want more. The eye shadow is never finished. So they will spend more replacing a lipstick they like and will buy more eye shadows, simply to get the new colours.’