B004D4Y20I EBOK (51 page)

She saw the white corner of a piece of paper sticking out from under the door. She bent down and pulled it out. It was an envelope. It had a name written on it in black ink: G Marlow.

She looked at it, feeling sick. Then she turned and ran upstairs.

Donna saw Jemima into a taxi home and then rang Tara and explained what had happened.

‘I think she’s OK,’ Donna said. ‘She seemed a lot calmer when I left, but maybe she shouldn’t be on her own tonight.’

‘OK,’ said Tara. ‘Christ, what next? I’ll call her and ask her over here for supper. I’ll keep the children up a little later so she can play with them. That always cheers her up and helps her see the bigger picture. Thanks, Donna. It looks like you’ve got us out of a crisis once again.’

‘You’re welcome. But I have to say, the Trevellyans are one dramatic family. I never know what the hell will happen next.’

‘Nor do we,’ said Tara with a laugh. ‘Nor do we.’

* * *

Be normal
, Poppy told herself as she sat in the bar of the basement club in Notting Hill.
Don’t let anyone see that anything’s wrong. Especially not Neave
.

She’d got ready in a daze, hardly able to register how her world had changed in such a short time. One moment, she’d been full of the joys of young love. Now it was all dust and ashes and her mind was whirling with questions. Why on earth had George lied to her about his job in the bookshop? Not only had they never heard of him, but none of the story was true. Why make up such things? What could he gain? And then there was the letter. Why would anyone be sending post for G. Marlow to the Fellowes flat? She felt a terrible sense of foreboding about the whole thing. There was no time to think about it now, though. She had an appointment to keep.

She’d dressed automatically, putting on a light summer dress, pulling in the waist with a vintage Pucci scarf and slipping on some flat turquoise sandals she’d bought on a beach holiday the previous year. Then she’d set out west, catching a bus that trundled down Oxford Street and along Hyde Park, towards Notting Hill Gate. They passed Tara’s road as they went through Holland Park and Poppy was half tempted to jump off the bus and run to her big sister’s house. She’d love to see Edward and Imo, and maybe confide in Tara what had happened, get some comfort and advice. But no. She resolved to stay on the bus, meet Neave and do her best to convince her to join them.

A sudden buzz of interest in the room made Poppy look up. Neave had walked in through the door and,
in
a place where no one was impressed by fame or wealth, her appearance had still created quite a stir. She sauntered in with the unselfconscious grace of a panther, wearing a cool white cotton shirt and a tiny, ruffled, A-line mini skirt in pale green. Her legs stretched endlessly away to a pair of black wedge Rupert Sanderson sandals. Her hair fell in a long glossy dark ponytail down her back and she wore a chic pair of Marni glasses.

Wow
, thought Poppy in awe.
What must it be like to walk around provoking that kind of response in people? What’s it like to be so gorgeous that everyone stares, even when you’re just out in normal clothes and no make-up, being yourself?

She stood up. ‘Hi, Neave!’

‘Oh, hi there!’ The gentle Irish accent was unmistakeable. ‘It’s my guardian angel!’ She went up and gave Poppy a kiss. They sat down at a small table and Poppy ordered them drinks of lime and soda.

‘Great place,’ Neave said, taking off her sunglasses and revealing her extraordinary eyes. ‘It’s so chilled out and unpretentious. Do you want to know a secret? I hate glossy parties! If I have to go to one more stately home dressed up in taffeta, drink one more glass of champagne or eat another spoonful of caviar, I think I’ll go mad. This is my kind of place: simple, friendly, artistic.’

‘All the paintings on the walls are by members,’ said Poppy, nodding towards the canvases.

‘How cool!’ Neave peered at them. ‘People here are really talented.’

‘I’m not much of a fan of that high-society world myself,’ Poppy said.

‘Really?’

‘Uh uh. I hate snooty restaurants and launch parties and all that stuff. That’s much more my sister Jemima’s scene. I prefer to stay at home and eat cheese on toast and watch television or read.’

‘We’re so the same,’ said Neave, laughing. ‘How on earth did we end up in the worlds we’re in, huh? Tell me what you do.’

Poppy told her all about Trevellyan and the work they were doing there. Neave was fascinated.

‘You’re learning as you go along, are you?’ She smiled. ‘Like me. I got discovered in a Dublin department store when a woman came to buy a jacket and asked me to model one for her. Turned out she was a scout from an agency. Before I knew what had happened, she’d signed me up and whisked me away and suddenly I was living half my life on aeroplanes and the other half in strange cities.’ Neave shrugged. ‘But I can’t complain, I guess. It’s made me money and opened doors to worlds I once only dreamed about. Then I got signed up by Caroline and she’s convinced she’s going to get me into the movies.’

‘Do you want to act?’

‘I guess so.’ Neave smiled her dazzling smile. ‘They say I come across well on the screen.’

‘Really? I can’t imagine why.’ Poppy laughed. ‘You’re absolutely made for it!’

‘I’d like to give it a try anyway. I’ve always fancied having a go at acting since I was Mary in the Nativity
play.’
Neave assumed a holy look and turned her eyes to heaven. She said in a babyish voice, ‘Oh, Joseph, the angel says I’m gonna have a baby and he shall be called a Manual.’ She glanced at Poppy. ‘I’m not kidding. That’s what I said! I got a bit confused when the angel said Emmanuel.’

Poppy laughed again. Neave was funny and charming. She would be the most wonderful ambassador for
Tea Rose
. Poppy’s mind was already designing a poster and photograph campaign, even sketching out a television advertisement.

‘I was wondering …’ she began.

Neave cocked her head and look questioning. ‘Yeah?’

‘Neave, I’ll come straight to the point. We need a face for Trevellyan. A fabulous, fascinating face like yours. My sister Jemima has already approached your people but they said no, so when we met in the loos that night, it seemed like destiny. Maybe you were meant to come and join us and be the face of
Tea Rose
. We’re going to have the most stunning campaign, it’s going to be a huge launch. It would be so worth your while and I know you haven’t signed with anyone yet. So … would you consider it?’

Neave blinked her green eyes and looked regretful. ‘Oh, Poppy, I’d like to help you out, I really would. But Caroline doesn’t want me to sign up to anything like that yet. We’ve had offers, of course, but she’s turned them all down. We’ve got a major movie in the pipeline and if it comes off, Caro reckons it will double or triple my price, and then I’ll get a huge cosmetics or fragrance deal, a long-term contract.’

‘Oh.’ Poppy’s face fell.

‘I’m sorry. I just can’t commit to anything right now.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Poppy said, trying to be stoical. ‘We couldn’t afford to pay you that kind of money and obviously someone of your stature is going to be able to command a giant fee. So I suppose it just wasn’t meant to be.’

Neave smiled kindly. ‘I guess not. But I’ll do anything I can, you can be sure of that. If you’re having a launch or anything, I’d be happy to come and lend a hand. Have you got a sample of the scent?’

‘Right here.’ Poppy took a small glass atomiser from her bag. The samples had arrived in boxes that day, ready to be sent out to the press. She passed it to Neave who sprayed it on her wrist and smelt it.

‘Hey, I like that.’ She frowned and sniffed again. ‘Yeah, that’s really nice. Much better than some of the stuff I’ve been asked to represent. Shame.’

‘Never mind. Keep the sample,’ said Poppy. ‘Are you hungry? Shall we get something to eat?’

They went through to the dining room, which opened out on to a courtyard garden, and sat down to eat. They chatted about their lives and likes and discovered that they had a lot of things in common, from their love of cooking Italian food to the fact that they had both had giant crushes on Justin Timberlake.

‘I liked him even when his hair was curly,’ declared Neave, laughing. ‘Hey, are you OK?’ she said, noticing Poppy’s smile fade.

‘It’s nothing … well … actually, it’s my boyfriend,’ Poppy said slowly.

‘Having troubles? Has he cheated on you?’

‘Not exactly.’ She explained what had happened that day. ‘I just can’t understand it,’ she finished. ‘Why would he lie to me about where he works, or what his name is? I can’t see a reason for it.’

‘There must be one,’ Neave said, putting down her fork. ‘But you’re right, it’s very strange. Is he a stalker?’

‘No, I don’t think so. He’s just so incredibly normal and I really thought we were in love …’ Poppy’s eyes filled with tears as she thought back to the blissful times they’d spent together. ‘I can’t think what it all means.’

‘Hey, love.’ Neave put her hand on Poppy’s arm. ‘Just don’t leap to conclusions. There might be a perfectly innocent explanation for all this.’

‘I’d love to know what it is. Because no matter how I look at it, the last thing it seems is innocent.’

44

JEMIMA WAS TOO
nervous about seeing Harry again to go to work. She stayed at home instead, using the time to help Sri clear up the flat for the estate agent’s photographs. She had already had to take the painful step of giving Sri her notice but had also been able to recommend her to a friend who was desperately in need of a good housekeeper. Sri would be going to her at the end of the month.

‘Thanks so much, Sri, the sitting room looks lovely,’ she said. ‘The agents will love it.’

They were indeed very impressed with the property. ‘Flats like this are gold dust,’ said one appreciatively. ‘I don’t think we’ll have any trouble moving it at all. I’ve got a couple of Russian girls on my books desperate for a flat like this. And it’s very nicely done up. So be prepared for a quick sale.’

‘Thanks,’ Jemima said, unable to hide the regret in her voice. Now that the moment she had dreaded was finally here, she was sad but it was almost a
relief.
The flat was going and that was that. She would have several million from its sale and a big chunk of that would go into Trevellyan. She might never see it again but so what – she had to take a risk for once.

By the time Harry was due to arrive she was almost shaking with nerves.

How strange to be so terrified of seeing my own husband!
She tried to laugh but she couldn’t avoid how serious this evening was. It would determine her future with Harry.

The doorbell rang promptly at seven and she buzzed him up, taking one last glance in the mirror before she let him in. As he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, she realised with surprise that he seemed as nervous as she was.

‘Can I get you a drink?’ she said.

‘Yes, please.’

‘Gin and tonic?’ She mixed him a Tanqueray and tonic, with a good measure of the Tanqueray, and made one for herself.

‘So you’re really selling the flat,’ Harry said, seeing the estate agent brochures on her table. ‘I never thought you’d be able to let it go.’

‘It’s time to let a lot of things go,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve realised I can’t live in the past for ever. I have to move on and make something of myself. I’ve been thinking about what you said to me, about how I’d found a purpose in life. I think that’s true, and now I’ve found it, I don’t want to let it go. It’s worth losing the flat if I can keep Trevellyan alive. And we’re so
close
now. Really, so close. We have a fabulous scent and the whole look is coming together much better than I ever imagined.’

‘Where will you live?’ Harry said, sitting on the arm of a sofa.

‘Tara’s said I can have a room in her house whenever I need it and I think I’d like that. Perhaps I’ve been alone a bit too much over the last few years. It’s not good for me. I’d like to be part of her family and see the children more. I think it could be a good solution.’ Jemima sat down herself. A big gulp of gin and tonic had begun to relax her a little.

‘And when you’re not in London?’ Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

‘Well … that rather depends on you,’ she answered quietly.

‘Shall we talk about this now? I was going to wait until dinner.’

‘No, let’s talk now,’ Jemima said hastily. ‘I really can’t wait. It’s going to be too awkward if we don’t.’

‘All right.’ Harry got up and walked over to the window, looking out over Eaton Square. ‘I suppose you wondered why you didn’t hear from me after what we talked about in the library that day. The truth was, I had to think over what you’d said. And I had to be sure I believed you and trusted you again. I’m sure you appreciate that.’

‘Yes,’ she whispered.

‘So I went to find Guy. I had to talk to him. He was so convincing, you see. He made me believe him even though I knew what a snake he was. So I drove up to
Aberdeen,
where he’s been working. We talked, man to man. I explained what you’d said and he eventually backed up your story.’

‘Eventually?’

‘Oh, he tried to brazen it out for a while, tried to maintain the story that you’d had a long affair together, but suddenly I knew he was lying. I could see the falseness in his eyes. I realised he’s been taking me in most of my life. I trusted him like a brother, but he was no friend to me.’

‘I’m so sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry I hurt you.’

He went over to her and sat on the sofa beside her. ‘Listen, you’ve asked for pardon. I’ve forgiven you. Now, we have to let it go. I’ve had a chance to realise that I lost a child, and to mourn for that child. But I also have the chance to get you back, with everything that promises: a life together, a happy home, perhaps children. So let’s never talk about Guy again, either of us. All right?’

‘Yes.’ She smiled. ‘Does this mean you want us to make another go of it?’

‘I really do. Do you?’ He searched her face, his gaze vulnerable in a way she’d never seen before.