A Class Apart (48 page)

“Mmm, good stuff,” he said. “And now, how about a toast to you?”

“To me?”

“Yes. I’ve been reading the first chapters of your book today, and I think we’ve got something to celebrate.”

“Do you really? Did you like it? Be honest with me, Nick, did you really like it?”

“Yes, I did. Don’t look so surprised, it’s good.”

“But were there any bits you didn’t like? You can be brutally honest, I won’t mind.”

He opened his mouth to speak.

“Well, not too brutal,” she said.

He smiled. “There is one thing I’m unsure of.”

“Oh,” said Kate, unable to hide her disappointment. “What’s that?”

“Exactly when it’s supposed to be taking place.”

“In the seventies,” she said, as if it were obvious.

“But you haven’t said that.”

“Do I need to?”

“Well, I’m no expert, but I’d have thought so, yes.”

“I’ll look at it,” she said. “Come on, let’s go and sit down.”

He followed her into the lounge, and took up his usual chair beside the fire. July it might be, but there was still no real sign of summer yet; in fact it was damned cold outside tonight.

“So,” he said. “Has Bob told his wife yet?”

“I presume so. I didn’t ask. It was just so good to hear Ellamarie back in spirits again.”

“Mmm,” Nick sipped his champagne. “Did you ever find out what it was, you know, why she was like she was?”

“No, she didn’t say. But whatever it was, well, I don’t suppose it matters now really, does it? As long as she’s all right now. I mean, we all get down sometimes, even Ellamarie.”

“I suppose we do.”

“Did you find out today when the real reading for the
Queen of Cornwall
is happening?”

“Nope,” said Nick. “Couldn’t get hold of Bob. Don’t know why I didn’t think to try Ellamarie’s. Still, under the circumstances it’s probably just as well I didn’t. When did they decide?”

“Yesterday, she called me this morning.”

“Have you ever met his wife?”

“No, never. Have you?”

“No, I haven’t actually met her, but I’ve seen her.”

“Really?” said Kate. “What’s she like?”

“Well, it was quite some time ago now, and I didn’t get a very good look, but from what I saw I’d say she’s probably about the same age as Bob, and about the same height. She’s dark, and rather more glamorous than I’d have expected.”

“I always imagined, from the things Ellamarie’s told me, that she would be sort of quite mousey and plain.”

“I must admit I thought she would be too, but she’s certainly not plain. But I only caught a glimpse.”

At that moment the phone rang, and Kate got up to answer it. From the warmth in her voice Nick guessed that it was her father on the other end, so he went back to the kitchen to fetch the champagne. When he came back again she was still on the phone, so he sat down, feeling uncomfortable. He always hated it when people were on the phone and he was a visitor in their home. It made him feel like he was eavesdropping.

Kate seemed to sense it, and said: “I’ll have to go now, Daddy, I’ve got a friend here.”

Nick felt a twinge of annoyance that she hadn’t said who.

“Well, before you ring off,” said her father, “tell me, how’s the book coming along. Well?”

“Yes, it’s coming along fine I think,” and she winked at Nick.

“Jenneen’s with you, is she?”

“No, she’s coming around later. Nick’s here at the moment.”

She heard her father sigh on the other end. “Is he still pestering you?”

Kate turned the phone into the wall. “Not at all.”

“Darling, he’s an actor, for goodness’ sake. What on earth do you see in him?”

“It’s not like that,” she answered, trying to keep her voice low, thankful that Nick couldn’t hear what her father was saying.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. So why don’t you tell him straight that you don’t want to see him again. He’s always round there these days, it must be driving you mad.”

“It’s not, and I won’t.”

“Don’t be angry. I’m only trying to make you see sense. All you need right now is to get on with your novel, and you’ll never do it with him hanging round you.”

“Look, I’ll call you later.”

“I’m going out,” said her father. “Call me in the morning. And try and get rid of that moron.”

“No!” she said. “I won’t, and don’t say things like that again.”

“You’re not falling for him, are you?”

“No. Yes, actually, I am.”

“I thought you might have learned your lesson by now, Katherine.”

“What do you mean?”

“Darling, I’m only trying to save you from being hurt again. We don’t want a repeat of the Joel Martin affair, now do we?”

Kate flushed. “Don’t ever mention that again. I don’t ever want to talk about it, and I don’t ever want you to talk about it either. And what’s more, I’ll do as I please, so stop interfering. I’ll call you tomorrow,” and she hung up.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said to Nick, “but sometimes fathers can be so blasted infuriating.”

“I won’t ask what it was all about, I think I can guess. But tell me, who’s coming round later?”

Kate frowned.

“You said on the phone that she’ll be coming round later.”

“Oh, yes. Jenneen. She’s calling in for a drink, and perhaps something to eat. She wants me to look over the first draft script that she’s done for her new series.”

“Oh no, does that mean takeaways again?”

“’Fraid so. But cheer up, I’ll cook you a nice dinner on Saturday night. How does that sound?”

He raised his glass to her.

“I’ve got another treat. I’ve been to Cliveden House today, researching for the series of articles I’m doing on stately homes that don’t belong to the National Trust.”

“But I thought Cliveden did belong to the National Trust,” said Nick.

“They’ve leased it to Blakeney Hotels, don’t you remember? I told you, it’s a hotel now. Just wait till you see it.”

“Oh, I’m going to see it, am I? When?”

“Sunday. We’re going down for the day. I fell in love with it when I was there today, and I know you will too. So we’ll make a whole day of it next Sunday. Let’s just hope the weather cheers up. Ah, that’ll be Jenneen,” she said, as the buzzer on the intercom sounded.

Jenneen came in, carrying more champagne, and laughed when she saw the half full one on the coffee table. “Looks like we all had the same idea.” She took the glass that Nick was offering her. “Well, here’s to the happy couple. Have you seen either of them yet?”

Kate shook her head, and put down her glass. “No. Have you?”

“No, but being love’s young dream, I don’t suppose they really want to see anyone just yet. Has he told his wife, do you know?”

“Don’t think he’s had a chance yet,” said Kate.

“Wonder how she’ll take it.”

“Well, I don’t think they’re very close, are they? Haven’t been for some time. Probably won’t come as a surprise. Might even come as a relief.”

“I wouldn’t go quite that far,” said Nick. “Breaking up is never easy, even if you don’t love someone any more.”

“No, I suppose it’s not,” said Kate. “Well, why don’t we drink to Linda as well. That she can find happiness too.”

So they drank Linda’s health, and then settled down to go over Jenneen’s script.

About eight o’clock Nick went out for Chinese, and by nine thirty they were well fed and quite merry.

“So,” said Jenneen, leaning back in her chair, and closing the script. “You think it’s good?”

“Excellent,” said Kate. “Just those few alterations, and check on whether or not you can actually mention those couple of things in the closing link, and you’re home and dry. It’s a winner!”

“What do you think, Nick?”

“Same as Kate. There are several critics, not to mention directors, I’d like to see in the hot seat. What time of night will it be going out?”

Jenneen shrugged. “It doesn’t have a slot yet. But it will be quite late, I think. Around elevenish.”

“Shame,” said Nick. “Still, once it’s been running a while, they might give it an earlier slot.”

“Might,” said Jenneen, “one can only hope.”

The phone rang and Jenneen looked at her watch. “Great! That’s probably Ashley. I left a message with her service, telling her to ring us here tonight.”

“Hello,” she said, lifting the receiver. “Hello,” she said again. She waited, but there was no reply. She looked at the others and shrugged. “No one there.” The line crackled. “Hello,” she shouted. “Ashley, is that you?” Still there was no answer. She put the phone down. “Probably a bad connection.”

After a couple of minutes the phone rang again, and this time Kate answered it. “Hello, Ash!”

“Hello,” said a muffled voice, quite clearly not Ashley’s.

“Hello? Who is it?”

“Kate,” said the voice. “Hello, Kate.”

Kate frowned, and some of the colour left her face. She turned to look at Nick.

Quickly he jumped to his feet. “Is it him again?”

“Who?” said Jenneen, bewildered.

“I think so,” Kate whispered, handing Nick the receiver.

Nick put the phone to his ear and listened. A few seconds later the line went dead, but he heard all he needed to hear. He could feel both Kate’s and Jenneen’s eyes on him, waiting for him to speak. He turned away, closing his eyes against the feeling of nausea the voice had left him with.

Kate’s face was taut. “It was him, wasn’t it?”

“Who?” said Jenneen.

Nick looked round.

“What did he say?”

“What’s going on?” said Jenneen. “Who is it?”

Nick looked at her, then avoiding Kate’s eyes he started to leave the room. “I’ll get some more wine,” he said.

TWENTY-EIGHT

“So,” said Conrad, leaning back in his chair and indicating that he was bringing the meeting to a close, “I want every effort put into this. As you already know, it’s an account that used to belong to this shop, and I want it back again. I’ve every confidence in you, but it’s going to be a tough one. Practically every other agency in town will be making a pitch, so it’s up to you to make sure it comes our way. I want round-the-clock effort, no excuses, and every ounce of talent in your pretty little heads working towards it. You don’t need me to tell you how many millions are at stake, and I want them.” He looked at Ashley. “Candice will give you the available figures as you leave,” Ashley nodded and Conrad continued: “They will impress upon you how serious I am about getting Mercer Burgess Insurance back at Frazier, Nelmes, if I haven’t done so sufficiently already. As soon as anyone feels they’re onto something, and I expect that to be within the next forty-eight hours, then bring it to me. I shall be taking a personal interest in this one, and if I’m not here, then Candice will know where to reach me. So as I said, it’s up to you now, go to it!” and he smiled.

Bill Fownest, the President of Frazier, Nelmes, New York, stood up and catching Ashley’s eye winked at her. He loved it when the agency was involved in a pitch of this stature. It made his blood race, and gave him a greater high than anything else – with perhaps one, maybe two exceptions. He watched Ashley as she gathered up her papers. If he wasn’t greatly mistaken then she was already accumulating and discarding ideas in that brain of hers, and he’d wager she was looking forward to this as much as he was. He had heard how it was largely down to her that Frazier, Nelmes in London had clinched the lucrative Newslink account, and he was interested to see what she would come up with this time. She had a good creative team under her here in New York, and in the short time she had been here she had already earned a healthy respect from them, and, indeed, the twenty or so other Exec VPs in the company. Shame she didn’t get along so well with Conrad, but it didn’t seem to bother her any, so what the hell.

“Ashley!” Conrad was standing behind his desk.

She stopped at the door and turned back. So did a couple of the others, though from the look on Conrad’s face they could see that whatever he had to say to Ashley, it was no concern of theirs. Quickly they left the room.

Conrad picked up his pen and began to write something on the pad in front of him. He looked up, and again she had that feeling that he was sizing her up.

“This is the biggest challenge you have had since you’ve been in New York,” he began, “so I thought you might be wondering why I have assigned this particular pitch to you.”

Like hell she was wondering, hadn’t she been busting a gut, as Jan put it, to try and make sure this one came her way? She waited for him to go on.

“I don’t want to have to spell it out,” he said, and she wished his face was a little less grim. “I think you are already well aware of the importance of winning, and although your track record in London speaks for itself, I want you to remember that you’re in New York now, where standards are high, and those that don’t rise to them go. We can’t afford to lose this one and it would be as well for you if we didn’t.”