The last letter was from the Duchess.
‘My dear Imogen, Thank you again a million times for what you did for Ricky. This little necklace is only a small way of expressing our gratitude. Do come and stay with us next time you have some time off and write and let me know how your holiday works out. I liked your Mr O’Connor and he writes very well too. I wouldn’t give up hope if I were you. Love, Camilla.’
But hope would be hope of the wrong thing, sighed Imogen, but allowed herself a daydream of having a flat in London, and giving dinner parties, asking the Duchess and Braganzi to meet Larry and Bambi, with Matt coming early to help with the drinks, and her letting him in in a black satin petticoat, and him starting to kiss her so neither of them were remotely ready when the guests arrived.
Stop it, she told herself firmly, but with the thought that she really would ask him to help her get a job in London, she drifted off to sleep.
When she woke up around eight, she felt a bit shaky, but normal. The rest of the party, gathered in the bar, greeted her like a long lost sister. Within a few minutes she realised that they were in for a decidedly stormy evening. Yvonne, dressed in a cowl-necked sky-blue dress which could easily have been worn by the Virgin Mary, was at her most poisonous, smiling smugly, and queening it over everyone, particularly Cable, whom Imogen would have felt extremely sorry for if she hadn’t been in such a filthy temper, biting people’s heads off, and casting dark spiteful looks in Imogen’s direction. Now Tracey had gone, she had apparently made it up with Nicky, and insisted on sitting next to him at dinner.
They had just finished eating. Cable had only toyed with a few asparagus tips, when the waiter put a shampoo sachet on the side of her plate.
‘What’s that for?’ said Cable. ‘Do they want me to wash my hair?’
‘Cleaning your fingers,’ said Nicky.
‘I prefer finger bowls.’
‘They’d be quite useful for après-sex,’ said Nicky, examining the sachet. ‘They should put them in bedrooms.’
‘I prefer finger bowls for that too,’ said Cable.
‘Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor,’ said Imogen idly counting her olive stones.
Cable shot her an uncontrollable look of hatred. ‘Pity there isn’t a rhyme that includes dissolute Irish journalists. That’s what you’re really after, isn’t it Imogen?’
‘Pack it in,’ said Matt, icily.
‘Well it’s true,’ said Cable, opening her bag and getting out her lipstick. At the same time a bill fluttered out on to the table. Cable quickly reached out to retrieve it, but Matt’s hand closed over it first.
‘Give it to me,’ hissed Cable.
Matt smoothed out the bill and looked at it for a minute. A muscle started to flicker in his cheek.
‘What’s this for?’ he said quietly.
‘A few things I bought in Marseilles.’
‘But this is for 4,500 francs!’
That’s well over £500, thought Imogen incredulously.
‘It must have been your peacock feather dress,’ said Yvonne, brightening at the prospect of a showdown. ‘I told you it was a rip-off at the time.’
‘Particularly as someone ripped it right off you at that party,’ said James and roared with laughter, stopping suddenly when he realised no one else was.
‘D’you mean to tell me you spent 4,500 francs on one dress?’ said Matt slowly.
‘I had to have something new. You couldn’t turn up in any old rag to that party. Everyone noticed it. That’s the way one gets work.’
‘Not that kind of work. How the hell d’you think we’re going to pay for the rest of the holiday?’
‘You’ll have to win it back at the Casino. You can always cable the paper. You must have made twice that on your precious Braganzi story already.’
They paused, rigid with animosity, as the waiter cleared away the debris, leaving only clean glasses and ashtrays.
‘Anyway,’ Cable went on, ‘since you decided to buy her’ — she glared at Imogen — ‘an entire new wardrobe, I thought it was my turn to have a few new clothes. Don’t you agree, Nicky?’
Nicky showed his teeth non-committally. He wasn’t going to be drawn in.
‘Children, children,’ cried Yvonne, dimples flashing, highly delighted by the turn of events, ‘please don’t spoil my party. I’ve got something to tell you all. This is a very special night for Jumbo and me.’
‘So you’ve already told us,’ snarled Cable. She turned to Matt. ‘I don’t know why you’ve got so fucking tight with bread recently.’
‘Skip it,’ said Matt, ‘we’ll discuss it later.’ His face was expressionless but his hand trembled with rage as he folded up the bill and put it in his pocket.
‘That’s right, kiss and make up,’ said Yvonne.
There’s going to be one hell of a row later, thought Imogen, as the waiter arrived with an ice bucket and a bottle of champagne.
‘What’s that for?’ said Nicky, as the waiter removed the cork and filled up everyone’s glasses.
‘Because I want to celebrate my first and last film part for a long time.’
‘Your last?’ asked Imogen.
‘When I went to the doctor about my foot the other day, he was able to confirm that I’m expecting a baby.’ Yvonne, her head on one side, looked even more like the Virgin Mary than ever.
There was a long pause. Imogen caught Nicky’s eye and for a terrible moment thought she was going to laugh. She could see Matt still gaining control of himself with an effort. Then his natural good nature conquered his fury with Cable.
‘That’s great news. Congratulations to you both.’ He raised his glass in the air. ‘To Baby Edgworth.’
‘Baby Edgworth,’ said Nicky and Imogen dutifully.
‘I must say I’m jolly excited,’ said James, leaning across and giving Yvonne a great splashy kiss, which she immediately wiped away with her napkin.
Cable said nothing. She was drumming her fingers on the table. Then she got to her feet.
‘I’m going to the loo.’
‘Aren’t you going to congratulate me?’ said Yvonne.
‘The prospect that there might be another replica of you in the world shortly is too horrible to contemplate,’ said Cable and turned on her heel.
There was another long pause.
‘How horrid of her,’ said Yvonne in a choked voice, then added more brightly, ‘Of course she’s only jealous. As I told her this morning, she’s twenty-six now, her days as a model are numbered. She really ought to think about settling down soon. I know you don’t like talking about marriage, Matt, but I’m sure if she had a tiny baby of her own, she’d be a different person.’
‘Even worse I should think,’ said Nicky, filling up everyone’s glasses. ‘I can’t see Cable changing nappies.’
‘Oh, she could always use the nappy service, or disposable nappies, don’t you agree, Matt?’
‘When’s it due?’ asked Imogen hastily.
‘May the 10th,’ said Yvonne. ‘I’m awfully glad it’ll be a little Taurean, rather than Gemini, so much more placid. Cable’s Gemini, isn’t she, Matt?’
She knows exactly to the day, thought Imogen. She and James can’t sleep together very much.
Yvonne was still rabbiting on about the baby when Cable came back. Imogen could catch an asphyxiating waft of her scent from across the table. She’d drawn even darker lines round her eyes. She looked like a witch. For a moment she stood glaring at them until Nicky and James rose dutifully to their feet. Matt remained seated, his eyes cold, his mouth shut in a hard line.
Cable slipped into her seat.