Please Don't Stop The Music (9 page)

We
heard the engine approach, like the trumpets of doom, and then a
huge 4×4 articulated itself around the corner from the road and
drew up on the gravel drive outside the cottage gate. ‘Uh oh, there
goes the neighbourhood,’ I muttered to Rosie. She smiled at me, a
tight grin. ‘Am I allowed to hide?’

‘
No!’ Rosie grabbed my arm. ‘You have to be all glossy and
welcoming and stuff, but a bit scatty so that I look organised and
together in contrast.’

‘
So
glad I’m only here as comic relief,’ I sighed.

‘
Besides you couldn’t expect me to cope with Saskia on my own.
She eats people like us for dinner.’

‘
She
doesn’t eat anything as common as dinner. She’d have us as a
six-course banquet, with fruit and nuts.’

‘
Sssh! She’s coming.’ The door to the 4x4 swung open but to my
astonishment it wasn’t Saskia who made the descent onto the
roadside, but her husband Alex. He walked around the bonnet, held
the passenger door open for a pair of exquisite shoes to appear,
and then went to the back door and held his arms inside. He turned
towards us with their son, Oscar, in his grasp.

‘
Ah,
Rosie,’ said Saskia. ‘Nice to see the baby getting some air. Gosh,
he’s rather small isn’t he? Is he, you know, quite
healthy?’

Alex
greeted us with his customary weak grin. I’d heard that he was a
cut-throat businessman, that property markets would crash and burn
without the attentions of Alex Winterington. But put him beside
Saskia and he was just a thickset guy with receding chins and
hairlines and no charisma to speak of. Or perhaps that was just the
Saskia Effect. After all next to her Attila the Hun would have come
across as a bit wussy.

‘
Harry’s fine thanks. Oscar’s grown, I see.’ Rosie tugged her
curls into order and smiled at Oscar, who grinned back with a
five-year old’s blindness to nuance. He was a handsome chap, with
blond hair which grew at improbable angles and brown eyes like his
father. He was always pleasant-natured too. Saskia’s genes must be
circling in there somewhere, waiting to stage a take-over, but
there was no sign of them emerging yet.

‘
Yes, well, Oscar is the tallest in his year at school.
Actually, talking of schools, we were just on our way to have a
look at Blandford. They’ve offered Oscar a place there in
September, so we thought we’d combine the trip with picking up the
cards.’

‘
Isn’t he a bit young?’ I piped up. Blandford was the area’s
leading boarding school, strict, religious and, I’d heard from
Jason, the local centre for the acquisition of drugs, as the entire
sixth form supplemented their trust funds.

Saskia rolled her eyes at me. ‘Darling,’
she said in a tone that implied I knew nothing, then turned back to
Rosie. ‘Have you put Harry’s name down for anywhere yet? Or aren’t
you planning on an education for him? After all, it can be
such
a waste of money if
they don’t turn out to be high-achievers.’

Rosie and Alex rolled their eyes at each other and I warmed
towards him a little more. In his arms Oscar was wriggling.
‘There’s Jason!’ he cried. ‘Let me go and see Jason!’

On
the far side of the lawn where the big converted barn stood with
its doors wide, Jason was just visible lurking in the shadow. He
was smoking a huge roll-up which he hid behind his back when he saw
Oscar leaping across the grass. He must have palmed it or shoved it
in the bushes because when he led Oscar into the barn both hands
were empty.

Alex
bent next to Harry and tickled him, but straightened up when Saskia
cleared her throat. ‘So, Rosie. Have you finished the
consignment?’

Rosie waved a proud hand at the box. ‘Taped up and ready to
go.’

‘
Good.’ Saskia touched the cardboard with the tip of a French
manicure. ‘I’m glad. Because I’d like another hundred, ooh, I was
thinking … in time for the re-opening? Say, by next
Monday?’

Rosie opened and closed her mouth. ‘I’m not sure –’ she
began.

Saskia clicked her fingers at Alex. ‘Money sweetie,’ she said
in the same tone that I would have used to ask a dog to sit. Alex
pulled his wallet from the pocket of his beautifully tailored
jacket and handed the whole thing over to Saskia. She didn’t even
look at him, just closed her fingers around the pigskin and I found
myself wondering what the hell the two of them saw in each other.
Or I did until I saw what the wallet contained – Saskia definitely
admired a man with a large wad. ‘Five hundred. And another four
hundred if you get me the second batch before Monday.’

Rosie stared at the money.

‘
You
can get a lot of outfits for that,’ Saskia said, looking at Harry.
‘Or at least, you can in those high-street places you shop at. And
this young man is going to start needing things, stimulating
equipment, you know the kind of toy. I’d pass you some of Oscar’s
old things but we’re still hoping that we might have another little
one ourselves.’

I
was sure I saw Alex give a shudder when she said that, but I could
have been imagining it.

‘
Trouble is, you see, Saskia,’ Rosie was holding the five
hundred pounds in a clenched fist, ‘I’ve also got to supply a few
other shops. Not in such quantity, obviously, a dozen cards here
and there but, you see, if I’m doing all these for you I won’t have
time!’

‘
Can’t Jemima help?’ Saskia flicked her hair. ‘I mean, she’s
at a loose end now, isn’t she?’

‘
Actually no, I’m supplying another shop in York. Busy, busy,
you know.’ Carefully not mentioning that the shop owner had
panicked me into thoughts of leaving altogether. Saskia would have
offered to help me pack.

Saskia’s reaction to my statement was startling. She whirled
around and stared into my face. ‘What? Which shop? Where? They’re
not a member of the Board of Trade are they?’

Having for once gained an upper hand I wasn’t about to let it
go, and just smiled. She turned back to Rosie.

‘
Well, you’ll have to make your choice, Rosie. A hundred cards
by Monday or I’ll have to rethink using you as a supplier.’ Saskia
did the clicky-finger thing again at Alex. ‘Fetch Oscar, darling,
will you? He really mustn’t hang around with Jason quite so
much.’

But
there was no need for Alex to go trotting off because Jason was
heading our way, with Oscar holding his hand, pulling and tugging
on his fingers like a Labrador. ‘Mum! Dad! Jason’s got this huge
picture of David Beckham and there’s nearly a whole train in his
barn, with all the controls and everything. He says I can come and
see next time he goes and buys one and maybe get to drive it!’
Oscar’s eyes were shining with hero-worship. Jason’s were glazed,
probably with dope. ‘Can I?’

‘
You
mustn’t disturb Jason, darling.’ Saskia motioned to Alex to take
their son back to the car. ‘He’s a very famous artist. But it will
be nice for your friends, when you start at Blandford, if you tell
them that your family is on such good terms with Jason
Finch-Beaumont. Talking of which, Jason, may I have a quick word
with you? Rosie, could you carry the box to the Hummer for me? My
doctor says that I mustn’t try to lift large things.’

‘
She
didn’t have a problem lifting Alex’s wallet,’ I whispered to Rosie
as I helped her to lift the carton of cards into the back of the
vehicle.

‘
She’s not allowed to lift lower-class things,’ Rosie
whispered back. ‘I bet if this box was made of diamonds she’d be
hefting it around like a wrestler.’

We
sniggered at this image of Saskia until the car’s exhaust filled
our faces. ‘So. What are you going to do? Make her some more
cards?’

Rosie sighed and went to pick up Harry. ‘Well, I have to,
don’t I? I mean, she’s my biggest sales point and – forgive me,
Jem, but I don’t want her to do to me what she’s done to
you.’

‘
She
wouldn’t drop you, would she?’

‘
You’ve seen her new style. How long do you
think my cards will last in that place if she decides on
another
refit
?
Anyway –’ Rosie wiggled her bundle of cash under my nose, Harry
tried to grab it. ‘How about we use this to go shopping for the
ingredients for Thursday night’s little
get-together?’

‘
Saskia wants me to open her shop.’ Jason’s voice sounded a
little strained. It also sounded a lot slurred.

‘
She
never gave you a set of keys, did she? You’ll have the place full
of one of your crankcase installations and dubious friends before
she can blink.’ Rosie cradled Harry and began putting a nappy on
him, one-handed.

‘
On
Monday. She’s asked me to be her celebrity.’ Jason sat down. ‘Me! I
know nuffin’ about opening things. ’Cept for bottles.’

Rosie and I looked at one another. ‘God, she must be
desperate.’

‘
Well he is a celebrity.’ I looked down at the bewildered and
befuddled celebrity in question. ‘I don’t think there’s much to it,
Jase, you just have to cut a ribbon and socialise. It’s only Saskia
showing you off.’

‘
I
don’t want to be shown off!’ Jason nearly wailed.

‘
Tough, sunshine.’ I hauled him to his feet by one pathetic
elbow. ‘Fame is a bitch. Well, no, Saskia is a bitch, you’re just
the approachable face of fame as far as she’s concerned. Now, can I
borrow your car keys? Rosie and I are going shopping.’

We
left Jason flopping back onto the lawn and went to town in
style.

Chapter Eight

Thursday evening arrived and I was still trying to decide
what to wear. Because of the stupendous coincidence of both Rosie
and me getting paid in the same week (spending two days paying each
other back the money we owed and then finding it about equalled out
anyway) we were actually planning quite a posh do. Well, as posh as
any do could be which had Jason as a guest.

I’d
bought a lovely dress in a curious frosty green colour which made
my hair look blonder than normal, but in a good way. So many
colours made me look as though I’d gone prematurely grey, but this
one made me look all Viking.

I
tried the dress on in front of the mirror and couldn’t believe it
was me I was looking at. Where was that skinny, scared girl now,
the one with the bruise-stained cheeks and the gaze that could
never quite meet anyone’s eye? The quiet say-nothing girl from the
prison, head down and flinching as she walked? She’d been overlaid
by the new me; Jemima. Poised, strong, confident. I squared my
shoulders at my reflection. I could do this. I could stay living
here, selling my stuff through eBay and Ben’s shop. I was doing it.
I was making a life.

But then I went to straighten the hem,
caught my own eye and saw straight through the mirror image to the
horror beneath. The veneer peeled away and I was left staring at
the real me, feeling sick. How could I possibly think I was coping?
Had I forgotten so quickly what my life consisted of? And
how
dare
I even
relish the thought of talking to Ben Davies like a real woman might
talk to a man, honest-to-God ‘flicky dress and glass of wine’ talk,
lowered eyes and secretive smiles – didn’t I
know
what would
happen?

I
took the dress off and put my jeans on. But then of course Rosie
would want to know why I wasn’t wearing my party dress so I was
forced to put it on again. How could I tell Rosie that I didn’t
want Ben to think I’d even considered the possibility of dressing
up for him without her asking awkward questions about why I hadn’t?
Or, even worse, after a couple of drinks asking him why he didn’t
ask me out – oh God. I took the dress off again.

My
tiny bedroom was full of clothes. My one nice trouser suit lay
across the bed and it looked as though someone had skinned a
corporate lawyer. There were skirts and tops everywhere else, but
nothing suitable. I gave up and put the green dress back
on.

‘
Phwoooarrr! Top totty! Oh, it’s you, Jem.’ Jason was sprawled
along the sofa, Harry perched on his stomach. ‘Nearly din’t
recognise you.’

‘
Thank you,’ I said. ‘You look very nice too actually. Did it
need surgery to remove those overalls?’

‘
Ha!’ Jason tugged at the lapels of his suit. He did look very
glamorous in his tuxedo, I had to admit. ‘Rosie insisted I dress
up. Hey Rosie!’ he yelled into the kitchen. ‘You want me to put
Harry to bed yet?’

Rosie appeared in the kitchen doorway, pink in the face and
slightly flustered. ‘Oh, would you, Jase? That’d be lovely. I’m
just finishing off the starters in here. God, Jem, that’s the door
– will you get it?’ She wiped her hands distractedly down the front
of her appropriately Rosie-pink dress and vanished back into the
steamy depths.

I
squeezed past Jason, who was on his way up the stairs with Harry,
and opened the front door to Ben. He was carrying a bottle of wine,
wearing a suit minus the jacket and with the top shirt button
undone. He had his hair loose but sort of swept back. It suited
him.

‘
Hello.’ We faced each other across the crumbling front
step.

‘
You
found us all right then?’ I took the bottle he held out.