A Class Apart (23 page)

Jenneen burst out laughing. “Oh, I love you, Ashley Mayne. The only woman in the world who is naive enough to think that. Come on, sit down, and calm down.”

Ashley sat on the settee, and picked up the ski-ing brochures. “Now, tell me about the filming. Where did you go? Who did you meet? Didn’t know you were into ski-ing,” she added, as she opened one of the magazines.

“I’m not. Matthew is.”

“Where is he?”

“Down at the wine bar. I threw him out, he was getting in the way.”

“Poor Matthew.”

“What time is your friend Mr Winston arriving?” Jenneen asked.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, he can’t come. His nephew has come to stay for a few days.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. He’s always such fun.”

“I know,” said Ashley. “He was really upset to miss it. But he sends his regards.”

“Well, we are still on for lunch with him at the Brasserie on Saturday, aren’t we?”

“Of course.”

“Good, so we’ll see him then. Have you invited Keith in his place?”

Ashley shook her head and swallowed a mouthful of wine. “He’s in Dorset somewhere, on some kind of a course, so he couldn’t come either.”

“How are things going there?”

“OK. Bit like you and Matthew, I guess. It’s nice to have someone around, but I don’t want any more than that. Not that I can convince Keith of it. Never again, though! Twice bitten. However, I did take it upon myself to invite someone else.”

“Oh?”

“Giles Creddesley.”

“Giles Creddesley!
The
Giles Creddesley? Whatever made you do that?”

“Basically, because I was stuck.”

“But I thought you two couldn’t stand the sight of one another.”

“We can’t normally. But he’s been so nice lately, he didn’t even ride roughshod over my creative review. And as he so gallantly escorted me to the awards ceremony the other night, where Frazier, Nelmes won an award for their Newslink campaign . . .”

“Ashley!” Jenneen cried. “Oh, congratulations. Did you bring it? What was it? What did Julian say? Jesus Christ, that’s wonderful. Here, have some more wine. We should be having champagne.”

Ashley laughed. “Wine is good enough, thank you. I drank enough champagne to sink the
QE2
the night we won. So anyway, as I was saying, I thought, as Giles wasn’t doing anything this evening, I’d ask him along. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not if you don’t.”

“Kate should be pleased. She’s been interviewing him today, for an article about men in the media. That will have flattered his ego no end.”

“Oh God, he’ll be unbearable,” Jenneen groaned.

“Well, it’ll give us all a laugh, if nothing else.”

“You don’t think he’ll bring that revolting pipe, do you?”

“Probably.”

“Ugh! I don’t know what he puts in it, but it smells like something he’s swept up in a farmyard.”

“Don’t tell him that,” said Ashley. “He thinks it turns us all on. Condor man, and all that.”

Jenneen pulled a face. “Well, he’s not to smoke it until after we’ve eaten.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell him.”

Ten minutes later Kate came bursting in through the door. “I’ll kill him!” she cried. “I’d like to stuff his head right down his bloody pipe!”

“Come in,” said Jenneen. “My, we are all feeling fond towards the opposite sex tonight. Who’s upset you?”

“Giles bloody Creddesley!” she said. “That’s who!”

“Oh dear,” said Jenneen, “now that could be a problem. Come through to the lounge, Ashley’s already here.”

“Good. I’ve got a bone to pick with her.”

“Kate,” Jenneen announced to Ashley, as she pushed open the door to the lounge. “Steel yourself,” she added under her breath.

Ashley looked up. “Hi,” she said to Kate. “How are you?”

“Bloody livid, that’s how I am.”

“Why?”

“Piles Cretin, that’s why!”

“Giles. Why? What happened?”

“I don’t know how you could have put me on to someone like that, Ash, really I don’t. He’s an asshole.”

Ashley raised her eyebrows.

“I’ve never been so insulted in my entire life,” Kate went on. “How do you stand working with him?”

“Only just.”

“He’s abominable! Sitting there with his pink bow-tie covered in green spots, and blowing clouds of manure into the air through that Dickensian effort he puffs away on, he’s an insult to the human race!”

“I quite agree,” said Ashley, “but did you get your interview?”

“Did I get my interview! Darling, just let him wait till it comes out. Then he’ll know the wrath of a woman. I’m going to crucify him.”

“Just exactly what did he say?” Jenneen asked.

“Not much, and what he did say was of no use to me. Now he’ll find out just how much use it is to him. I asked him something, I can’t quite remember what it was, and he said, ‘My dear, I can’t write your article for you.’ Of all the cheek! Then I asked him something about art directors, and he puffed on his pipe, looked me up and down, and said: ‘Oh dear, you really don’t know very much at all, do you?’ At that point, I almost got up and strangled him with his dicky bow.”

“He doesn’t like it to be called that,” Ashley said seriously.

Jenneen burst out laughing. “Were you rude back to him?”

“I told him that if I knew everything then I wouldn’t be there asking him, would I?”

“What did he say?”

“Next question.’ So I asked him which particular bit of the woodwork he had crept out of this morning.”

“And?”

“He said that he didn’t understand the question. So I explained. And he laughed. ‘Oh my dear,’ he said, ‘you really shouldn’t get so upset. This is where so many of you women fall down these days, you know, now that you are all striving for equal rights and status. You’re all far too emotional.’ I very nearly screamed.”

“You didn’t, though, did you?” said Jenneen.

“No, I picked up my pen, wrote asshole in large letters across the notes I had taken, and smiled at him sweetly. Then I picked up my coat, told him it had been an experience, and left.”

“He would take that as a compliment,” said Ashley.

“I’m sure he would,” said Kate, “he’s stupid enough to. I’d like to knock that pipe of his right down his, patronising throat.”

“Well, I think you’re going to get the chance,” said Jenneen.

Kate looked at her with alarm. “What do you mean?”

“He’s coming here for dinner, tonight.”

“What! Giles Creddesley is coming here? Why? How? Oh Jenneen, how could you?”

“I invited him, I’m afraid,” said Ashley.

“Are you mad?”

“Probably. But he’d been behaving so well lately, I thought it would be all right.”

“Just don’t sit him anywhere near me,” said Kate. “I won’t be responsible for my actions. Any wine going? I could do with something to calm me down.”

“Help yourself,” said Jenneen. “I’d better go and see how the dinner is coming along.”

FOURTEEN

The evening was going well. Jenneen’s natural talent for the unexpected ingredient went a long way towards making her dinner parties a success and even Maggie had managed to slurp her way through the soup. As Matthew cleared the table, Jenneen glanced in Maggie’s direction and saw that her chin was still resting comfortably on her collar bone and for the moment, thank God, she was too drunk to speak.

The men, Giles in particular, had dominated the conversation for most of the evening. Where was it, Jenneen mused, that she had read those statistics about men talking eighty per cent of the time when in mixed company? She turned with relief to listen to Ellamarie as she demanded that Kate tell her how much she had lost at the casino in Monte Carlo. Ellamarie gasped when Kate told her. But had Kate seen anyone when she was there, you know, anyone famous? Jenneen shifted in her chair, and leaned forward to say something to Bob. Kate answered that she had only seen Prince Albert, darling, and she thought Stephanie too, but she hadn’t been too sure.

“But hey, hang on a minute,” she cried suddenly. “I thought I saw you, Jenn. Do you remember?” she said, turning to Joel. “There was this woman in the casino, she was with an Arab, disgustingly wealthy-looking he was too. But anyway, this woman, she looked just like you, Jenn. So much so I even called out to her. God it was weird. They say everyone has a double somewhere, and I could have sworn it was you at first. Don’t know any rich Arabs, do you, by any chance? Not hiding him from us are you?”

Jenneen caught Matthew’s eye across the table and could do nothing to stop the rush of blood to her face.

“She’s blushing!” Kate cried. “So you do have a guilty secret. Come along now, out with it!”

Jenneen’s eyes were riveted to Matthew’s as he smiled and picked up a bottle of wine to refill the glasses. “No, Jenneen doesn’t have a double, do you, Jenn?” he said, smoothly. “No, what Jenneen has is a Doppelgänger.”

“Oh Matthew!” Kate shuddered. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

Jenneen’s eyes flashed, but she was smiling as she said: “Which is no more than one can expect from the likes of him,” and the others started up a barrage of lighthearted abuse in her defence. Matthew took it goodnaturedly and Jenneen felt almost sick with relief as the moment passed.

Ellamarie was watching the way Kate was behaving with Joel. It made her mad as hell sometimes to see the way Kate hung onto his every word. The man was no good, Ellamarie was certain of that. She put a lot of store by a person’s eyes, and Joel Martin’s were cruel. Catching Ellamarie looking at him, Joel smirked and raised his glass. Ellamarie returned the smile. She hadn’t got his measure yet, but even if she had, she knew it would make no difference. Kate would have to find out for herself what he was like – there was nothing the rest of them could do. She turned away as she felt Bob reaching for her hand. Joel Martin left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Bob was enjoying Giles Creddesley’s company immensely. The more drunk Giles became, the more pompous and self-congratulatory he was. He seemed blissfully unaware of the surpressed guffaws of the others. He knew everything there was to know about absolutely everything, and his opinion, which was blasted into the conversation with voluminous regularity, was unmitigated and indisputable.

Bob, and then Matthew, did all they could to encourage him. Joel sat back to listen, sometimes remembering a little too late to straighten his face whenever Giles addressed him. Ashley was sinking deeper into her chair, suffering all the embarrassment Giles should have been suffering, had he had the sensitivity. At one point she heard Kate whisper to Jenneen that Giles must be the absolute ultimate in “Hooray”, which was promptly confirmed by Giles himself, as he began the hunt for a “window” in his Filofax, saying that he simply had to go and see
Twelfth Night
, old chap. And
Don Giovanni
too, of course. Oh hell,
Don Giovanni
clashed with Badminton, that was just too bad. He had to go to Badminton, naturally, – though he didn’t say why. But then
everyone
went to Badminton, didn’t they?

Unlike the men round the table, Jenneen soon became bored by Giles and turned to Kate to ask her how the novel was coming along. It was a mistake. Giles, who appeared to have ears any self-respecting bat would envy, was writing a book too. Joel caught Bob’s eye, and Matthew replenished the glasses.

Bob listened with awe-inspired interest as Giles unfolded his less than intricate plot, and Ashley gritted her teeth as Bob, leaning back in his chair and draping an arm round Ellamarie, asked if the book was in any way autobiographical.

“Autobiographal?” Giles repeated.

“Well, what exactly is it that you yourself do in advertising?” Bob asked.

Giles sucked noisily on his pipe. “Me!” he said, failing in his attempt to sound modest. “Well, where to begin?” Ashley winced as with the greatest of ease Giles found his starting point, and, encouraged in the main by Bob, went on to discard all “false modesty” and admit how outstandingly accomplished he was in his field, and how actually . . .

Jenneen regarded him with increasing antipathy. He was not one of the world’s most attractive men when he had his mouth shut, but with it open . . . words failed her. It was a shame they didn’t fail him too. She yawned, and allowed her mind to wander, until several minutes later she noticed that Bob was speaking. Bringing herself back to the present, she turned to listen to what he was saying.

“Oh, I agree with everything you say, Bob,” Giles interrupted as Bob paused to draw breath, “our class system is indeed archaic.” At what point had the subject changed? Jenneen wondered. “But nonetheless,” Giles went on, “one has to admit that it still exists, and indeed does have its merits. I mean, we couldn’t have just any old chap, or,” he chuckled, “chapess, sauntering into the boardroom, could we? One simply shudders to think what might happen if the peasants found their way in.” He grinned through a fallen halo of pipe smoke, creating such a disturbing image that Jenneen found herself wondering where he spent Hallowe’en.