Croissants and Jam (29 page)

    ‘I do house clearances, lots of muck in those places and I can tell you, a fair bit of brass too.’

He breaks his roll in half and cuts a large slab of butter. I suppose he must have dealt in a lot of muck to be able to afford this, I find myself thinking, and dearly hope after dealing in so much muck that he has washed his hands. I take the card hesitantly and pretend to study it. I am relieved to see the waiter approach and am saved from making any comment. I gasp when his steak arrives. It is so well done it is almost charcoaled. I thought he said this was the best restaurant in St John’s Wood. I open my mouth to complain but stop when he nods at the waiter.

    ‘Wonderful. They cook it to perfection here.’ I roll my eyes without thinking and tell myself to stop being such a snob. The waiter leaves us and walks to the door to greet a group of people. I look up and then quickly look away again. Oh no, is that Simon? Surely, it can’t be. I sneak another look and cringe. It is him. Oh no, I really don’t want him to see me with Jack. I slide further down in my seat and see he is coming our way. Bugger it, bugger it.

    ‘Annabel?’

I pull myself up and run my hands through my hair. I strain to see the people who are with him but they are already heading to the bar.

    ‘Simon,’ I respond. ‘What a surprise.’ And none too pleasant either, but of course, I don’t say that.

Jack splutters on a chip and grabs his serviette.

    ‘Simon, this is Jack, and Jack, this is Simon,’ I say, feeling myself blush.

Jack quickly holds out his greasy hand which Simon barely touches.

    ‘Jack Russell’s the name, pleased to meet you Simon.’

For a second, Simon looks baffled.

    ‘Jack Russell, isn’t that a breed of…’

    ‘Yes Simon,’ I interrupt. I pour myself more wine and see that Simon is now looking at my crab.

    ‘You should be drinking white wine with that crab surely?’

Bloody hell, Simon never changes. I smile at Jack who looks embarrassed. Oh sod this for a game of soldiers. I lift the glass to my lips.

    ‘Jack and I like to break the rules, don’t we Jack?’ I smile, taking another sip of the wine.

Jack goes to speak but Simon breaks in.

    ‘Well that is true, I can’t argue with that. You always were a rebel.’

His critical eye travels over Jack’s shirt and finally lands on the well-done steak. He opens his mouth to speak but I stop him with a cough. The last thing I want is Jack to feel more embarrassed. Simon looks at me with a grin.

    ‘If you’ll excuse me, I am dining with friends. It was nice seeing you.’

I watch him walk away and exhale, giving Jack a devilish look.

    ‘I think we rattled his cage.’

    ‘Oh dear,’ he remarks loading more chips onto his plate with his hands.

I pour more wine into his glass and laugh.

    ‘Actually, it is really rather nice breaking all the rules.’

Jack looks decidedly uncomfortable and, much to my relief buttons up his shirt.

    ‘Is it difficult seeing him?’

    ‘Good Lord no,’ I say airily and lean across to steal some of his chips. Simon has encouraged me to ‘go where no woman has ever gone before’ which in this case is to eat chips with my crab salad while drinking the forbidden red wine. Jack visibly relaxes and continues telling me about the timeshare in Costa de Sol. I try to look suitably impressed but fail miserably. Finally, dessert comes and with great relief on my part we are drinking our coffee.

    ‘Would you like to go for a drive in the MG?’ asks Jack as he pays the bill.

I shake my head apologetically.

    ‘Actually, I have an early start in the morning.’

He nods knowingly and helps me with my pashmina.

    ‘Oh, you’re leaving already.’

I snap around to see Simon with a group of people from his law office. Two of his snobby friends are sniggering. I link my arm through Jack’s.

    ‘Actually, we are just about to go on to a casino, aren’t we Jack?’ I say breezily.

Jack’s mouth opens and just as quickly closes again. I pull him out of the restaurant to the car in the disabled parking space. I cringe with embarrassment and step into the road to allow an elderly gentleman with a walking frame pass along the pavement. I pray he doesn’t speak, but of course he does.

    ‘Well, you sure look disabled,’ he spits at me.

Jack quickly pulls the parking ticket from the windscreen and climbs in beside me. I watch, deeply ashamed as the man walks slowly into the restaurant.

    ‘No one ever wants to park here normally,’ moans Jack, under his breath.

We pull away with a screech and I see Simon’s face staring at us from the restaurant window.

    ‘What casino do you want to go to? I usually go to one in the West End. It is good, and they park the car for you,’ says Jack, his face lighting up.

Buggety bugger.

    ‘Let’s go there then,’ I say sighing heavily. All plans of watching Christian later this evening instantly dashed. I pray that Simon does not follow. I mean, it is just the kind of thing he would do. I stifle a yawn and wrap my pashmina tighter round me as Jack pushes the button that puts the top down.

    ‘What about your early night?’ he shouts.

I shrug.

    ‘Great car this isn’t it?’ he shouts again.

It was Simon who had once told me that MG convertibles are hairdresser’s cars.

    ‘Those little sporty numbers are hairdressers cars’ I can hear him saying, ‘especially the ones with soft tops,’ meaning the cars and not the hairdressers I presume. Honestly, Simon is such a snob and to think I was so close to marrying him. I sneak a look at the time on the dashboard and curse myself for needing to get the better of Simon. All my plans of a cosy evening drooling over Christian have now gone, not to mention the precious time I could have spent praying to a God I do not believe in, to ask that Christian will not marry Claudine. Bother, bother, bother. I am now faced with several hours of blackjack, roulette and poker, and I have no idea how to play any of them. It occurs to me that I should tell Jack this is my first visit to a casino. I really don’t know why I let Simon get to me. I should be happy he has moved on, and the truth is I am. I just want him to think I have to. I really do not want him to think that I am like the walking dead, trailing in the shadow of Christian, even if that is the truth.

    ‘I could have arranged for us to have had dinner there if I had known you enjoyed the casino,’ shouts Jack.

I jump in my seat at the sudden sound of his voice.

    ‘To be quite honest with you, this is actually the first time I have ever been.’

He covers his shock and grins excitedly.

    ‘You’ll love it. I’ll show you how to play the roulette table.’

And so what I had intended to be a short evening did not end until almost three in the morning. The atmosphere of the casino is electric and I am swept along by the excitement almost immediately, and if Jack had seemed a little dull in the restaurant he certainly made up for it at the blackjack table. Clutching my chips, I move from one table to the next growing more confident with each chip I put down. When we become tired and hot, a lovely waitress fetches us a cold drink and some sandwiches. The roulette table has me hooked. When I am not playing I am an avid spectator. The smell of the place intoxicates me and the excited chatter of the gamblers makes me heady. I can’t imagine why I have never been before. At two thirty, having lost all our chips, we have a last drink before driving home. I am high on adrenalin and feel sure I will not sleep, but of course, the gentle movement of the car induces me to doze and before I know where I am Jack is waking me up. We are parked outside my flat and the clock says two forty-five. Jack leans towards me. I fumble quickly with the door handle and practically fall out.

    ‘Whoops,’ I laugh.

I am at the front door before he has even climbed from the car.

    ‘Do you want to do something tomorrow, I mean tonight?’ he asks pushing his hands awkwardly into his jacket pockets.

I swallow and fumble around in my head for a reply that won’t hurt him.

    ‘I would love to go out again but I think I will be very tired tonight. I don’t want you to think I am getting involved though Jack. It is much too soon for me.’

I bite my lip. Oh dear, I was much too blunt. I wonder if he has heard me, for he replies.

    ‘Great, I’ll call you in a couple of days.’

I blow him a kiss and go inside where I flop straight onto my bed and fall fast asleep.

Chapter Twenty-Four

    ‘Finally, she comes into work.’

I give Justin a dirty look and pour coffee from the cafeteria.

    ‘I have been working from home this morning,’ I lie.

    ‘You look like shit,’ he states none too kindly.

    ‘She was at a casino until two this morning,’ Kaz informs him as she carefully lays out the seating plan for the magazine’s celebrity fashion dinner.

I scoff loudly. He ignores us both and looks closely at the plans.

    ‘Okay, this looks good. Has everyone confirmed?’

I nod and Kaz shakes her head. I look questioningly at her.

    ‘Did you both miss the news?’ she asks disbelief on her face.

I look to Justin who shrugs.

    ‘India Pilano, our main model?’

We both raise our eyebrows. Kaz sighs.

    ‘She broke her leg in a skiing accident yesterday, so, unless you want her to model fashionable leg plasters, we are screwed.’

I let out a little scream and stamp my foot.

    ‘She can’t have. She signed a contract with us which stated she was not to ski from the day she signed until the contract was up. I don’t believe this. She was the main feature for the show and she was booked to do the McQueen photo shoot. Everything is set for next week. This is terrible news. It took me six months to get that contract with her.’

Justin chews his lip.

    ‘Get onto our lawyer, that’s the first thing. She has broken our contract, damn it.’

Kaz picks up the phone.

    ‘We need a replacement,’ he says carefully, and I can see his mind working overtime. He looks thoughtful and I take the phone from Kaz.

    ‘Olivia Hammond! Get her and I will give you the best rise you have ever had. It seems she is retiring to have a baby and…’

I drop the phone.

    ‘She’s having a baby?’ I echo.

    ‘God, Bels, where have you been?’ Kaz sighs.

Olivia is having a baby? Does Christian know? For God’s sake, it seems like the whole bloody world knows except me. Oh God, was that why he phoned? Did he want to share the news? I should have known it had nothing to do with me.

    ‘But, if she
is
having a baby she isn’t likely to sign with us…’ I object.

    ‘Think about it Bels. She does her last shoot before retiring, and it’s with us and even better if you can get her to stand in at the celebrity dinner fashion show. You can do it, make it your goal before you go away. We can do the McQueen shoot anytime she wants. I only want the best.’

He points a wagging finger and heads for the door.

    ‘And I want Olivia Hammond,’ he says bluntly and slams the door shut behind him.

Kaz stares out of the window.

    ‘Jack really liked you then?’

I lift my head to the ceiling. Oh why did India have to go sodding skiing?

    ‘Not really,’ I say absently.

    ‘Oh I think he did.’

I give her an odd look. What is wrong with her?

    ‘What is wrong with you?’

    ‘You’ll see.’

There is a knock on the door and she rubs her hands with glee.

    ‘Oh he luuuuved you,’ she says opening the door.

I gasp. Standing in the doorway is the largest bouquet of flowers I have ever seen. The young man delivering them lumbers in panting.

    ‘Miss Lewis?’ he breathes heavily.

I mumble a yes.

    ‘That’s a relief. I don’t think I can carry this lot much longer. It weighs a bloody ton. I already went to the wrong department.’

Kaz struggles to take them off him as I stare open-mouthed.

    ‘So, you don’t think he likes you,’ she laughs handing me a rose she had plucked.

    ‘Did someone die? Did I die? There is a hell of a lot of lilies here.’

The delivery man shakes his head.

    ‘A man can never get it right can he?’

My God, I will never have enough vases for all these flowers. I open my mouth to give a sharp retort, but nothing comes out.

    ‘I saw him wandering around with them earlier. I guessed they were for you. Can I have some?’ squeals Kaz.

I take the card she offers and fall into a chair.

    ‘
Thank you for a wonderful night, you are truly special. J. x

Oh Jesus, a bit over the top or what? I look to Kaz who is making up her own little bouquet from my oversized one.

    ‘God, it is obscene. Can you put them into vases and spread them around the building or something? You had better phone the solicitor too, and if Jack should phone please tell him I am unavailable.’

She salutes me with a grin and waltzes off with the bouquet over her shoulder. Damn, damn, Jack obviously was not listening to me last night. I dive in my bag for some aspirin and swallow them with more coffee. God, my head aches. Never again will I drink so much. I bury my head in my hands and think about Olivia Hammond. I didn’t admit to Justin that I had her personal mobile number. I decide it is much better if he does not know about that. I wait until my headache eases and then pull out India’s contract from my drawer. It is time to phone her agent and deliver the bad news. Twenty minutes later Kaz buzzes me.

    ‘Our legal people are in discussions with her legal people, do you want me to keep you updated?’ I hear the smile in her voice.

    ‘Yes and can you get Olivia Hammond’s people on the phone?’

    ‘Yes, boss. Oh, and Jack left a message while I was delivering flowers. He said he will call back.’