‘Well, I’m not,’ she said, rummaging in the Mary Poppins bag. The last time she’d done it, she’d pulled out the paper with Leo’s story in it, so I held my breath, feeling anxious.
When she pulled out a magazine and held it out to me, I hesitated.
‘What is it?’
‘It’s a copy of About Town.’
‘That’s nice.’ I poured the water into the cups.
‘Have a look, then. Page twelve – Ascot.’
I took the magazine reluctantly, and thumbed through to the page she’d said, and there he was, looking right back at me. Nathaniel Fforbes. So why…?
‘Read it.’
‘Nathaniel Fforbes enjoying the sunshine with the Honourable Ladies Sasha Tetheridge and Eunice Crumpton,’ I read out, half under my breath.
I was amazed how much it cut me. They were both pretty and looked far more his type. Far more upper-class. No wonder he wasn’t interested in me. He could have any girl he wanted. He’d hardly be likely to settle for someone like me, with no pedigree and the only title associated with her WAG. I felt common and cheap, suddenly, and the burst of excitement Jimmy’s belief had ignited in me was extinguished like it had never been. It was then that I realised I’d been hoping it would impress him.
I brought the cups over to the table, and sat down heavily.
‘He’s minted, Grace.’ Liv took her cup and looked at me, consideringly. ‘He’d be a far better bet than your Leo.’
‘It’s not about money.’ I stirred my tea moodily. ‘I think I’m going to be all right for money.’
‘Ooh.’ Liv took a sip of tea. ‘Come on then, tell all.’
I told her about Jimmy, and what he’d said. She nearly spilt her tea when I told her about the bidding war.
‘That’s fantastic, Grace.’ She laughed wickedly. ‘And a spit in the eye for Kitty.’
‘Don’t be mean.’ I couldn’t help laughing at Liv’s evident delight, but it made me feel guilty. I remembered Kitty’s phone call and how, so easily, it could’ve been me.
I stood up, but Liv hadn’t finished yet. ‘So you’re really not interested in the Fforbesmeister?’
‘Why would I be?’ I said, startled. For a moment, I’d thought she’d said Filth Monger. ‘He blanked me in Max’s office.’
‘It wasn’t just you.’ Liv looked puzzled. ‘It was both of us and he didn’t. I thought he was charming.’
I went to speak, before remembering I still hadn’t told her what had happened between us. Without that, the inadequacy of his greeting was impossible to explain.
‘If you say so,’ I said, not feeling up to going into it all. ‘I need to get ready. I’m going out.’
‘Ooh, where? Anywhere nice?’
‘If you must know I’m meeting up with him.’
‘With who? Leo?’
I shook my head.
‘Not…’ She gave a gasp of excitement, and pointed to the magazine.
I nodded.
‘No!’ Her eyes were like saucers. ‘Oh my God, Grace. Tell all!’
‘There’s nothing to tell,’ I said. ‘I told you, he’s not interested.’
‘So why…?’
‘It’s complicated.’ I drained the last of my tea. ‘He’s not interested, trust me.’
Thirty One
Her
The car arrived to pick me up just after dinner. Liv had made a salad, but I’d hardly touched mine. I’d barely been eating anyway, over the past week, and now I was too nervous. Stephens opened the car door for me, and I ducked inside, wondering what I was letting myself in for. It was a Bentley again, long and sleek. I did up my seatbelt and put my hands in my lap, feeling awkward. I wondered if Stephens knew why he was driving me, and what he’d think if he did.
As the signs indicated we were leaving London for the quieter roads of Berkshire, my heart began to race. What if something happened to me? How did I know I could trust this…Filth Monger? At least I’d told Liv, after a fashion, where I was going. I hadn’t gone into any details. I couldn’t – I didn’t know them myself.
I hadn’t known what to wear, even. I didn’t have any idea what he had planned. After anguishing silently for twenty-odd minutes, I’d settled on a little black number, with strappy sandals to match and a pashmina. I’d put my hair back in a bun, but strands were already escaping and I was constantly having to push them out of my eyes as we sped through the evening streets to who-knew-where to do who-knew-what.
Finally, the car pulled in through two massive pillars onto a tree-lined avenue. Ahead of us, I could just make out some sort of mansion, its façade darkened by the low sun behind it. The shadows of one line of trees ran across the gravel of the driveway, long and ominous, and my heart quickened even more. Where the hell had he brought me?
As the car reached the building, I noticed lanterns on wrought iron posts. They were alight, but only just visible in the dimming light. Stephen pulled up in front of a set of broad, stone steps, flanked by more pillars, and came round to let me out.
I followed him up the steps to an enormous pair of doors, with further lanterns on either side. He pulled on a rope and a bell rang, at which point he backed away and nodded to me.
‘Ma’am,’ he said, and went back to the car, leaving me standing there, anxious and alone.
I wasn’t standing there long. The door opened almost immediately. It was a woman – some sort of maid, I think, because she dropped a quick curtsey, then stood back to let me in.
Beyond her was an enormous entrance hall, with vaulted ceilings and staircases sweeping up from either side, and in the middle of it stood Nathaniel and a woman. She was older than him – at least forty She was tall and slender, with black hair swept back in two high curls, either side of her face, and the rest curled in at the nape of her neck. It was a fifties style, and she wore a long, white fifties-style dress to match. She also had her arm draped over Nathaniel’s shoulder.
‘Welcome to the Castle, Miss Anderton,’ he said. He went to say something else but, just as he opened his mouth, his phone rang. He held it up and looked at the screen.
‘It’s Giles,’ he said to the woman, and to me; ‘I’m sorry. I have to take this.’ And he was gone. He dashed across to a door to the side of the entrance hall, and disappeared into a room.
‘Don’t mind him,’ said the woman, sauntering over to me with a serene smile. ‘He’s always busy.’
On closer inspection, she was older than forty. More like fifty. Maybe even older than that. It was hard to tell, because she wore a lot of make-up, and had naturally good bone structure – high cheekbones and a strong, slim jaw.
‘So you’re here as one of Nathaniel’s…projects, are you?’ she said, with another smile.
My God, I thought to myself. Is this really happening?
‘I…that is…’ I faltered. Then, in a rush, I blurted; ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise he’d tell his mother.’
She jolted slightly, and blinked. ‘Nat and I,’ she said, finally. ‘Keep very few secrets.’
At that moment, Nathaniel reappeared from the doorway, and came back over. ‘Thank you, Ronnie. Grace, this is Ronnie,’ he said, by way of introduction.
‘His wife,’ said Ronnie, in icy tones.
At her words, it was as if the whole world shrank down into one point in my brain. I must’ve literally swayed on my feet because Nathaniel put his arm out to steady me.
‘As she said, my wife,’ he said, and swept me towards another door, this time on the other side of the entrance hall. ‘Thank you, Ronnie. I’ll…take it from here.’
The door led to a corridor, dark and wood-panelled, with a thick moss-green carpet. Pictures hung all the way along it. Pictures of what, I had no idea. I was in too much of a state of shock.
‘Your wife?’ I said, still trying to process the words as we walked along it.