Agent Provocateur (12 page)

Her tone is sharp, and Grace flinches as if she has been attacked. As if that would be possible, Grace thinks, and she reaches over to pick up the phone.

Grace tries but fails to ignore the presence of the woman whose scrutiny she can physically feel; whose disapproval she is aware of and who she really wants to leave her flat. At times, they almost seem companionable, but others, it feels as if they are enemies. She is glad that Nicole has given her a list of people to call, and is bombarding her with emails. At least she can bury herself in work.

Betty takes notes and tries to fade into the background. She listens intently to Grace’s conversations, reads her emails and watches her closely, noting everything. She can’t help but feel sorry for the women who use Grace – perhaps, she thinks, because of how scared she is of losing Johnny. She knows that she trusts him – there is no doubt – but insecurity isn’t always rational, that much she does know. She would give anything not to feel it, but still she does. As do the women that Grace deals with. The one who is going to meet her, the one who is rushing out to put a photo of her husband in the post, the one whose husband Grace will be tempting that very evening. Those poor women have no idea exactly what sort of honey trap they are setting.

At half-past one Grace pauses. ‘I thought I might make some lunch now. Would you like some?’ She is running out of work to do, so she decides to break for lunch and then spend the afternoon going through gadgets.

‘We could go out.’ Betty feels claustrophobic.

‘I’ve got a fresh loaf of bread and some tuna. I could make us sandwiches.’

Betty doesn’t see Grace as the sandwich making type, but she has probably offended her enough for one day. ‘Sure, sounds great.’ She follows her into the kitchen and watches her make lunch.

‘Can I ask one more question?’ Betty is no longer in control of her voice. There is a battle going on in her head, one voice versus another. The one she is trying to quash is stronger. She is afraid of it.

‘You can.’ Grace has her back to Betty.

‘Do you ever sleep with them?’ The voice wins and Betty feels shameful. Whatever happens, Grace doesn’t deserve that. Betty tries to pull it back, but has no idea how. There is a silence for a few seconds as she stops from going too far and Grace is desperately trying to stop her cheeks from burning.

‘No. I’m not a whore.’

Despite Betty’s attempts to apologise, which are genuine, lunch is a frosty affair. As soon as they finish eating, Grace makes a decision. She does not want to have to spend all day and all evening with Betty and her condescending manner. She has had enough. Betty’s last question is still simmering in her head.

‘You know, Betty, I normally don’t work in the afternoon. I probably should have told you before, but I didn’t think. I do all my calls and admin in the morning, then I normally take the afternoon off to do personal stuff and then work again in the evenings, when I’m on a job. Tonight, for example, I’ll probably start getting ready about four, because the man I’m meeting is going to be going out straight from work. I think I know where he’s going – it’s one of two places anyway – and I like to get there early so I can observe him first, before speaking to him.’ She realises she is gabbling but she knows that she wants – no, needs – some time without Betty.

‘OK.’ Betty tries not to let the relief she feels become audible. She is unsure how much more she can take. She is angry that she asked that question, but at the same time, she is angry that Grace is so easily offended. After all, journalists are supposed to ask probing questions and Grace should know that. Betty has her justification and convinces herself that she has done nothing wrong.

‘Why don’t you meet me back here at five?’

It is after two. Betty calculates that if she leaves now, she can go home for a couple of hours before heading back, and she can type up her notes there.

‘Sounds perfect.’

Grace closes the door and feels she can breathe again. Betty made her feel claustrophobic in her own home. She was polite, helpful, interesting even, but Betty made her disapproval crystal clear. Her voice was steeped in it. When she asked Grace the question about her sleeping with clients, Grace wanted to burst into tears. She felt dreadful; she felt bullied. Grace is sensitive to that feeling more than any other because it is what she remembers most of her childhood; people taunting her, teasing her, condemning her for things she didn’t do, just because they could. Betty made her feel like a child being picked on in the school playground, and that was something that not only made her want to cry, but also made her feel sick. It is something she thought she left behind in her old life.

She composes herself and goes to her office to use the phone.

‘Nicole, it’s me,’ she says when she is put through.

‘Is the journalist there?’ Nicole is whispering although Grace has no idea why.

‘No, I asked her to go for a couple of hours. She’s oppressive.’

‘Really, in what way?’

‘She doesn’t approve of what I do. That’s the bottom line. In every question she asks there is an undertone of disapproval. In every answer I give, she looks as if she is going to argue. She even asked me if I slept with the men I’m testing. She thinks I’m nothing more than a common whore.’

‘Oh dear.’ Nicole is the mistress of understatement.

‘I can’t do this.’ Grace hopes she doesn’t sound as if she is having a tantrum.

‘Fine. I’ll call her editor.’

‘What, just like that? You’re not going to persuade me to carry on?’

‘Grace, did you call me so you could let off steam, did you want me to persuade you to keep going or did you want me to tell you it’s OK to quit?’ Nicole is also the mistress of wrong-footing.

‘I don’t know.’ She feels like a baby, a blubber baby.

‘Look, I wanted this because of the publicity, but if she is upsetting you, then we’ll forget it. I don’t want that.’

‘You know, sometimes she’s really nice. And I don’t know if it’s because she’s a journalist or what, but I find myself being really honest and opening up to her. But then she seems to change and almost turns on me.’

‘Does she feel threatened by you?’

‘Maybe. She’s made no secret of the fact that she’s happily married to this guy who sounds like Super husband.’

‘She probably just feels that you and her are in different worlds and could never get on.’

‘Probably. So what should I do?’

‘Did you speak to clients today?’

‘Yes, it was really good. I spoke to the woman whose boyfriend we’re going after tomorrow night. Then I made an appointment to see another woman the following day, like you said. I thought it would be good for the story. But now, I’m not sure. Err rm. I told her to come back here at five today so she could go and watch my job tonight. Maybe I’ll see how that goes.’

‘That’s a very good and level-headed response.’ Nicole offers praise like a mother and Grace basks in it.

‘Nicole, if you had told me you wanted me to carry on I’d have probably called you selfish and stopped it.’

‘I know.’

‘You’re a great boss but you’re sneaky.’

‘Speak to you later, Grace.’

Betty sits on the bus, enjoying the sensation of non-crowded travel. She is replaying the morning in her head. She knows she overstepped the mark, but again, desperately doesn’t want to think that she is at fault. She was only asking what everyone would want to know. That is her job. She is a journalist. Fully justified, she turns her thoughts to what to wear that evening. She wants to prove to Grace that she is comfortable, and the only way she can do that is to be herself, rather than a sad woman desperately trying to compete with Grace. She decides that she will put on her scruffy jeans and a sparkly top, and so look trendy rather than smart. That was the mistake she made today; in trying to be someone she wasn’t she didn’t feel totally comfortable and Grace sensed that. She nods at herself in satisfaction.

Her thoughts stop abruptly when she realises the bus is pulling into her stop. She ticks herself off for nearly missing it. Then she smiles to herself and gets off.

The first thing she does when she returns home is to pull out her chosen outfit. Then she spends some time looking for Cyril, who seems to have gone out for the afternoon. Feeling loving, she leaves a note for Johnny, telling him she misses him. Then, finally she decides to call her editor and tell her, honestly, how her first day has gone.

‘It’s Betty. Can you put me through to Fiona?’

‘Betty, are you with her?’ Fiona is whispering for some strange reason.

‘No, of course not. I’m at home, changing before this evening’s job.’

‘Oh, how exciting. Very James Bond. Are you going in disguise?’

‘No, I’m just observing. Fiona, are you all right?’

‘Sorry, just getting a bit carried away. Anyway, how is it going?’

‘Not brilliant. She doesn’t like me.’ Betty tries not to feel guilty, because it’s not really a lie – Grace
doesn’t
like her – but that is probably Betty’s fault.

‘Why on earth doesn’t she like you?’

‘I don’t know. She’s very defensive, you know. I ask her a question and she goes off. It’s going to be difficult.’

‘But you’re going on a honey trap tonight?’ Fiona sounds unmoved.

‘Yes.’

‘Well, that’s good, isn’t it?’

‘I suppose. But, Fiona, it’s going to be really hard to work with someone who doesn’t like me.’

‘I know, but, Betty, I also know you can do it. In fact, I’m relying on you to do it. After all it’s only a few days. Keep up the good work.’

There is no way out.

Betty is standing at the buzzer. It’s five minutes after five. Grace’s voice flows out from the intercom, announcing that she will come down. Betty reties her scarf. It’s not that cold, but the scarf adds to the overall effect. She fluffs her hair a bit, thinking that her thick, unmanageable mane is actually looking quite good for once. Then she rolls her eyes; anyone would think she is going on a date. That is the way she’s behaving. The hours spent poring over her outfit and the hours spent on her hair and make-up – she is almost angry with herself about it.

Grace opens the door and smiles. All her earlier hostility has been left in the flat. She decided, after speaking to Nicole, that she would do whatever she needed to do to be nice to Betty. She is a little taken aback by Betty’s outfit. She is wearing amazing jeans, which although scruffy, look as if they are supposed to be that way. They are the sort of jeans that Grace has only seen in magazines. On her top she is wearing a red sparkly thing, which crosses one shoulder and ends at different places around her midriff. Again, this is the sort of top that Grace would never feel confident enough to wear. Finally she notes the denim scarf that matches her jeans almost perfectly, and her bright red high-heeled boots. Grace is still smiling whilst taking all this in, but inside she feels horribly inadequate. She feels both old-fashioned and old, whereas Betty looks like she is young and going clubbing.

‘I like your hair,’ she says, not sure how to comment on the rest of the outfit.

‘Thank you. You look great.’ Betty is being polite; she doesn’t sound truly natural although she does mean it. Betty thinks that Grace does look great. She might not be trendy, but she knows how to make the most of her many assets. She is wearing a suit, a suit that on anyone else would look just ordinary, and perhaps boring, but it flatters Grace. The jacket seems to cling to her shape, the skirt rests above her knees, showing only a glimpse of her thighs. The high-heeled shoes with ankle straps make the outfit a bit naughty. Betty is impressed (even if she doesn’t want to be) at how Grace has put the outfit together. It says so much without being obvious. She has to concede that she does not look like a whore, more like a businesswoman.

‘As it’s after work, I am posing as a businesswoman.’ Grace reaches into her handbag and pulls out a pair of glasses, which she puts on.

‘Don’t tell me, a prop?’ Betty cannot believe that Grace still looks just as sexy in glasses. It makes her think of her own glasses at school, thick NHS ones, which made her look anything but sexy. She feels angry with her again.

‘Yeah, I like them, though. I know it sounds silly but when I’m getting ready to go out and I’m doing that business woman in town for a few days thing, I like to wear glasses. I have no idea why.’ Grace starts to walk down the street, while Betty tries to decide how to process that last piece of information.

Grace hails a cab and Betty gets in. She immediately pulls out a notebook and starts writing.

‘Do you feel as if you’re acting?’ she asks.

‘Yes, but there’s no script and there’s much more than a director’s reputation at stake.’ Grace smiles, and Betty marvels at the way she sees her life, but can’t help a tiny bit of admiration creeping into her thoughts. It doesn’t last too long. ‘Here’s a photo of the man I’m looking for. He’s a forty-five-year-old accountant. He’s divorced and living with his current girlfriend, who was his mistress before the divorce. Now, it, seems she’s had a huge attack of paranoia that he will do to her what he did with her.’

‘Sounds like that’s what she deserves.’ In Betty’s world view, mistresses are worse than honey trappers.

‘Maybe, but that’s not for me to judge. I am simply going to see if he is the cheating type. Then she can make up her own mind what she wants to do.’

‘But, surely, it’s obvious; once a cheat, always a cheat.’

‘I don’t know. Maybe he married his wife because he thought he was in love and then really did fall in love. You don’t choose who you fall in love with.’

‘Maybe you don’t,’ Betty concedes. ‘Anyway, who would want him? He’s got more nasal hair than anyone I’ve ever seen.’ With that they both laugh, and almost relax.

They arrive at the first bar and Grace walks in. Betty waits outside for five minutes. She is going to watch Grace in action from a distance and she certainly doesn’t want to be sullied by getting involved. When she walks inside, Grace is standing at the bar, positioned in the middle. She is flirting with the barman, who seems to be delighted to be flirting back. After a little bit of banter (that Betty can’t hear) the barman presents Grace with a glass of champagne. Betty is sitting at a table and, watching Grace take a sip, she realises that she doesn’t have a drink, so she goes to the bar. She stands next to Grace, who smiles. Betty requests a tomato juice (no drinking on the job for her), and she makes a mental note to ask Grace about the champagne later.