The Full Legacy (7 page)

‘Don’t be daft.’ I said, more to reassure myself than anything else. ‘Nobody’s
that
important to anyone else.’

‘Oh yeah? Well, that’s fine coming from you, after the way you clung onto Corinne.’

This is what happens when you corner people.

I gasped.

Suzanne’s eyes held mine as I struggled to get back to myself. Her glare was icy.

In retrospect, I wondered why I’d done it, asking to speak to her that day. I knew how angry she was about Turner. So maybe that was the whole point. Maybe I knew that, just for once, someone was angry enough with me to tell me the truth.

I fought back tears as I struggled to regain my equilibrium.

‘I never did.’ I protested, knowing in my heart that I had.

Suzanne knew it too, and smiled on her victory lap.

‘Corinne was
terrified
to leave you,’ she said. ‘She thought you’d fall apart.’

Finally, I found my voice. I tried to keep the tremor out of it but I knew I was going to have to talk fast before the tears overwhelmed me.

‘Well,’ I said, hardly recognising myself anymore. My eyes were burning. I could almost have choked on the lump in my throat. I felt my mouth contorting as I got the final sentence out.... ‘I really wish she had... Because if she had... maybe she’d still be alive today.’

And the trifle, which had been so delicious only a moment earlier, seemed to turn to ashes in my mouth.

Michelle found me sobbing in the changing room.

‘Bloody hell!’ she said, staring at me in horror.

‘Sorry.’ I snuffled hastily into a soggy square of kitchen roll, then glanced at my reflection in the mirror, convinced that I must have snot all over my face. I didn’t, but I looked a mess – red and blotchy and waterlogged.

Michelle sat down beside me and patted my hand gingerly. ‘What on earth’s the matter?’ she asked.

I felt sorry for her. She’d always been uneasy with strong emotion.

I shook my head. ‘I had a row with Suzanne.’

Michelle looked vague. ‘Which one’s Suzanne?’

She didn’t mix much with my gay friends. Apart from Kay, who she slightly, subtly disapproved of, she didn’t know any of them very well.

‘The one who lives with Mary,’ I said. ‘They’ve been together for years. She used to be quite a good friend of Corinne’s.’

‘Oh yes?’

I knew immediately what she was thinking.

I shoved it to the back of my mind. I didn’t even want to
consider
that one.

‘She said Corinne only stayed with me because she was scared I’d fall apart if she left.’

‘Oh,’ said Michelle, not knowing what to say.

‘It’s true isn’t it?’

‘No.’ She busied herself with tidying the make-up trays. ‘It was more complicated than that Gill, you know it was. And you know what I thought of Corinne. I told you often enough at the time.’

Yes, I remembered, comments like, ‘She’s making a fool of you... Why do you put up with it?... You deserve better... You’re a total mug if you believe that one...’

‘I’ll make you a nice cup of coffee,’ she said now. ‘Cheer you up a bit, eh?’

I doubted that it would but I nodded anyway, grateful for her kindness.

When she’d gone, I tore Turner’s card into tiny pieces and threw them in the bin. No way could I handle the complications of pursuing a relationship with this woman right now. No way!

Hope

In a weird sort of way though, the relationship seemed to be pursuing me.

Thursday I worked late before going on to teach my night class. I was reading through my notes from the previous week, psyching myself up for the group. It was getting near the end of term and everyone was twitchy about their year-end assignment. I was also feeling guilty that I’d forgotten to phone Mary the day before. I wondered if I’d have time to phone her now before class.

Michelle crashed through the louvres.

‘Hey, Gill, you know you thought you were going to be getting away early tomorrow afternoon?’

‘Ye-es.’ She’d booked somebody in, I knew it.

‘I’ve just had a call from somebody who wants a rush job.’

‘Well, I hope you referred them to the opposition.’

I was inclined to dig my heels in about this one. It had been a long week and I’d felt tired before I even started.

Michelle looked sheepish. ‘I tried. She was adamant though. It had to be you and it had to be tomorrow.’

‘What is it then?... Bouncing baby?... Boudoir?... Oh, please God don’t let it be a wedding or I’ll be working till midnight!’

‘Boudoir... A Mrs Shaw... Say’s price is no object.’

My heart leapt, and I knew I was in trouble.

‘Must be her hubby’s birthday next week,’ I snarled, trying to act normally.

Michelle didn’t seem to notice that my hands were shaking.

‘Anyway,’ she said. ‘I booked her in for three o’clock. It won’t muck up your weekend too badly, will it?’

‘S’pose not. I’ll just have to phone up and cancel afternoon tea with Sharon Stone
again.
’

‘Oh well... you know what they say.... “Treat ‘em mean - keep ‘em keen”,’ Michelle grinned. ‘It’s important though, not to turn away business, isn’t it?’

I don’t think she expected an answer. If she did, she didn’t wait to hear it. She was already striding off down the salon... ‘See you tomorrow,’ she yelled. ‘Don’t forget Mrs Ferguson’s poodle at nine thirty.’

‘Okay. I’ll remember to set my alarm.’

The door slammed, leaving the entrance bell tinkling away into the emptiness.

I was surprised at how relieved I felt. Turner had taken things out of my hands and outmanoeuvred me very effectively. Maybe now I could just stop fighting for a while and let her take over.

I went to my night class with a lighter heart. And that night I slept well for the first time in days.

The Shadow

Kay had never seen me in agonies about what to wear before.

She came into my bedroom to see if she could borrow a tenner and stared in amazement at the pile of clothes on the bed.

‘You having a clear out?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know what to put on.’

Even
I
could hear the desperation in my voice.

She looked at me as if I’d gone mad.

‘You’re going to
work
Gill – anything will do.’

I wondered about the oversized white T-shirt I’d bought for a party earlier in the spring. It had quite an unusual cross over neckline. I’d only worn it once, so it was still looking crisp and white. I could wear pale blue cotton jeans under it.

‘How about this?’ I held it up against me.

‘Fine.’ She gave me a curious look. ‘You meeting somebody for lunch or something?’

I knew what she was thinking. There had been a message on the answerphone yesterday. ‘Hi Gill, it’s Georgie... Sorry to miss you at Su and Mary’s last night. I understand now about Saturday. Fancy to get together for a drink sometime?’

‘No,’ I said firmly.

Kay quite clearly didn’t believe me. ‘Well, I hope you haven’t fallen for one of the customers. That kind of thing could get you in ‘The News of the World’ you know.’

‘You’re not kidding,’ I said. ‘Especially as my first one this morning’s a French poodle!’

I hunted around in my bag to see if I could find money to lend her. I managed ten pounds in a fiver and five pound coins. It left me with the grand total of sixty nine pence in loose change. I figured I’d better go to the cash point on my way into work.

‘I want it back tonight,’ I said.

‘Okay,’ she retorted quickly. ‘You’re coming back tonight then, are you?’

‘Yes Kay... Unless the dog invites me along to a swanky dinner at the Kennel Club, of course. And just for the record... that message from Georgie... what exactly did she mean when she said she understood about Saturday?’

Kay raised her hands in a gesture of innocence. ‘That wasn’t me,’ she said. ‘It was Mary. She’d been fretting about you being late for the film and, basically, Georgie muttered something about how, as far as she could see, you had the manners of a warthog... Just dumping her on Saturday night and then snogging Turner’s face off in plain view, and Mary jumped to your defence and told her how lovely you are and what a sweet, kind, considerate,
saintly
kind of a person you are normally.... And how she should give you a second chance because you’d obviously been totally off your head on Ros’s vol-au-vents that evening and wouldn’t normally look twice at a horrid little slapper like Turner.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Right!’ I made a mental note yet again that I really
must
phone Mary.... Georgie too, if only out of politeness.

‘And then...’ Kay added. ‘I just happened to add that you’d sworn to me that you’d come to your senses on the way home and nothing had happened anyway... Because, of course, we all know that such a
sweet, kind, saintly
person
would never lie to her friends about anything like that!’

My pillow just missed her grinning face as she ducked out of the door.

It was a shock to feel so good. I realised I was smiling as I pulled the clothes over my freshly bathed skin.

‘Gill,’ I said to myself. ‘You’re not bad.’

Spontaneously, I blew a kiss at my reflection in the mirror and bounced off down the road towards the studio.

There must have been something about me that day. Even Justin, the chief stylist, risked his ‘too cool for school’ reputation with a wolf whistle as I ran the gauntlet of Michelle’s assistants.

The boss followed me through the louvres into my lair.

‘Well,’ she said. ‘You’re still looking pale, but it’s really starting to suit you. I reckon you must be growing into your looks. At this rate, you’re going to be stunning by the time you’re fifty.’

I grinned. ‘Well thank you ma’am for that back handed compliment.’

I knew why everybody thought I looked great. It was because I still couldn’t stop smiling and they just weren’t used to it. Maybe Turner was going to be good for me after all.

My good humour was great for business too. Even the dog turned positively Crufts-like under my direction. The owner left glittering with good will. ‘I’ll tell all my friends,’ I heard her say at the door. Of course, she hadn’t seen the proofs yet. Even so, Michelle was proud of me.

‘You were
brilliant!
’ she said. ‘Look Gill, you’re not
on
anything, are you?’

‘Michelle,
how
long have you known me?’ (Presumably the mushrooms must have worked their way out of my system by now).

‘Well,’ she said. ‘I’m just not used to seeing you so...’

‘Happy?’

‘Well.... yes, now you come to mention it.’

The truth was that I couldn’t wait to see Turner. By 3pm my heart was banging like a piston. I could hardly breathe when I heard Michelle greet her at the front of the shop.

‘Ah, Mrs Shaw. Do come in!’

The wonderful sound of high heels on lino...

My smile radiated from my whole hyper-charged body as Michelle led her through the louvres. I stood to greet her, trying hard to stay composed... And then...  it wasn’t her!

I could barely rein in the shock as my brain registered the twenty-something, slightly chubby housewife in front of me. I struggled to hold my smile against its threatened collapse and found, to my horror, that I was fighting back tears. I’d never wished more fulsomely that I’d inherited my mother’s acting abilities. I was just rubbish at it though... always had been. I went through all the motions, and fooled no-one.

‘You
do
think you’ll be able to work with me, don’t you?’ she asked when we’d discussed the details. Her voice was very small and frightened. ‘My husband did so much want me to do this. I
told
him it was silly.’

I was furious with myself. I’d managed to commit the worst crime in my profession. I’d made her feel ugly.

‘You’ll be great,’ I said. ‘Michelle will see to your hair and make-up. I’ve just got a phone call to make, and then I’ll be setting up the studio.’

Michelle stared at me as if I’d gone bonkers. She took Mrs Shaw gently by the arm. ‘Nerves!’ she whispered, deliberately loud enough for me to hear. ‘She’s like this before every session. You mustn’t take it personally.
Brilliant
photographer but totally gaga, I’m afraid... It’s the artistic temperament you know.’

I knew she was irritated with me and I didn’t blame her. I was
furious
with myself. Shaking, I rifled through my Filofax until I came to Suzanne’s work number. Thankfully she didn’t answer.

‘Hello,’ my voice was shaking so much I could barely form words. ‘Could I speak to Turner Shaw please?’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Shaw is about to go into a meeting.’

‘Well, if you could catch her before she goes in.’

‘Is it urgent?’

‘Yes.’ What was I thinking? If she came to the phone now she’d think I’d
totally
lost the plot.

‘I’ll try. Please hold.’

A long pause. Then Turner’s voice, velvet and low.

‘Hello?’

‘Hello. It’s Gill.’

‘Gill?’

‘From the party. Last Saturday.’

‘Oh yes, of course. Gill – look – I’m sorry, you’ve caught me at a bad time. Can I phone you? Tomorrow sometime, at home?’

‘Yeah – yes.’ Tears were log-jamming in my throat. I felt like a kid, forced to wait, wanting it
now
.

‘I don’t think I have your number.’

‘No.’ I recited it to her and she noted it – repeating the digits back to me.

‘I
will
ring back,’ she said. ‘Thank you for calling.’

I collapsed in my seat. She’d barely even recognised me. But she
was
at work and I
had
waited six days.

I could have wrecked the studio, I felt so wound up.