The Liberation of Alice Love (25 page)

Soon, Flora was bounding back across the field. “Well?” Alice rose to greet her.

“What a wanker!” Flora exclaimed, screwing her face up in disdain. “He kept giving me these skeezy looks, like I was in my underwear or something. And when he asked me out for a drink, and I said I was married, he was all, ‘It’s not a death sentence.’”

“Sorry,” Alice apologized. “I should have warned you…”

“Oh no, it was fine.” Flora beamed. “Anyway, he seemed totally clueless, like you said, but there was one possibility. I talked Ella up like she was a dangerous spy or something—so he wouldn’t feel stupid—and he said there was one night in December he took a girl back but woke up the next morning with no memory at all, like he’d blacked out. It could just be he drank too much,” she added. “And she bolted in the morning when she realized what she’d gone home with, but still…”

“It could have been Ella,” Alice finished, thoughtful. “She might have used a sleeping pill or something, to make sure she wouldn’t actually have to…You know.”

“Ugh.” Flora shuddered. “He really is a dick.”

They took a moment to reflect on Patrick’s shining personality.

“Well, thank you.” Alice gave her a hug. “I don’t know if it’ll be any use, but at least I know we tried.”

“No problem! It was kind of fun,” Flora confided, as they began to stroll toward the car. “Like I was undercover, or something. Was that what you were doing out in Italy?” she asked, eagerly. “Digging for clues and infiltrating places?”

“Sort of,” Alice admitted. “Only, I didn’t really plan it. One minute, I was reading the postcard she sent from Rome, and the next, I booked the ticket and was on my way to the airport. I’ve never done anything like it before,” she added. “But it was wonderful.”

“It sounds so exciting.” Flora gave a wistful sigh. “Just picking up and taking off like that…”

Alice laughed. “You’re the one who can disappear at the drop of a hat!” Out of anyone, Flora surely had the most flexible life: no mortgage, or responsibilities, and a career she could pack away in her suitcase whenever she felt. “Stefan travels all the time, and nobody says you have to stay at home waiting for him,” she pointed out. “You’re young! Why not go off adventuring, even just for a weekend or two? Or apply for that art residency in Florence and really absorb a place for a while.”

Flora fell silent. “I couldn’t,” she answered eventually, throwing Alice a brief smile. “That program isn’t my thing, I told you that. And, well, could you imagine me traveling on my own? It would be a disaster. I’d get lost before I even left baggage reclaim.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “So, who’s our next interview?” Flora changed the subject. “Another victim?”

Alice sighed. “No, we’ve talked to them all. That’s it, I’m afraid.”

“Really?” Flora’s face fell. “I thought we’d find
something
.”

“Me too.” Alice almost felt foolish, thinking of the glee with which she’d greeted Nathan’s latest information. She’d been so certain it would lead to Ella, or at least another facet of her trail. But, after everything, Ella was too good. Kate Jackson was just another dead end.

They reached the car, but Alice idled in the shadow of the trees for a moment, not too keen to face the traffic of the weekend motorway so soon. Flora hopped up on the hood of the car and swung her legs.

“You know, I’m kind of glad she got him in trouble with the credit card people. Patrick, I mean. He really was disgusting.”

Alice grinned. “Now who’s not playing by the rules…?”

Flora giggled. “I know! But he deserves it, more than the other two, anyway.”

“Maybe that’s why she did it,” Alice said, almost to herself. She knew that it was ridiculous of her to attribute Ella with intentions and conscience, but she couldn’t help wondering if that’s how she too had viewed her victims. It couldn’t be a coincidence that out of the three, the only one who had seen a mound of problems with false credit cards and loans had been the most unsavory. Illana and Randeep may have seen their bank accounts temporarily emptied, but theirs was a minor upset compared with Patrick’s ongoing woe.

“That would be cool,” Flora mused, thinking on it. “Like, a Robin Hood. Only, instead of stealing from the rich, she takes it from banks, and loan companies, and complete assholes.”

There was a pause, and then Alice asked, “So what am I?”

Flora frowned. “Huh. OK, maybe not.”

Alice shrugged, reaching for the keys. The football players were beginning to scatter, some headed in their direction. “Come on, we better get back before Patrick tries to win you over with his charm and chivalry.”

“Oh, God, yes.” Flora hopped down, and all but threw herself back in the car. “It’s a shame though, there weren’t any clues or anything. I guess it was a wasted trip, after all.”

***

Alice thought much the same, but as she began to review her notes over the next few days, she wasn’t quite so sure. On the surface, she had nothing but the meager facts her trip to Italy and Nathan’s inquiries had managed to glean: that Ella had used a passport in the name of Kate Jackson and that she’d lived discreetly under that name for several months before coming to London. Her victims in Bath had no idea she was targeting them, and unlike with Alice, she hadn’t struck up any friendships or false relationships in order to gain access to their personal information. Ella had taken classes under Illana’s name, bought clothes and groceries, perhaps even volunteered the way she had done at Safe Haven, but none of it had been done with the same veneer of friendship she’d used with Alice.

But that, in itself, was what puzzled Alice the most. If Ella didn’t need to get close in order to steal the other victim’s information, then why had she done so with Alice? All those months of their friendship, she’d been risking discovery—any one of her lies could have unraveled, at any time. Had it been a challenge, to see if she could get away with it, or was it something more?

Alice couldn’t help thinking of that quiet street in Bath and the temporary life Ella must have led there. Following her victims’ every move, yes, but also making sure to stay invisible and utterly unseen. It would have been lonely, Alice decided. All that time, never confiding anything real to anyone, for fear that it would bring her down—she could only imagine how isolated Ella had felt. No wonder she wanted to reach out, perhaps even building her life in London, so that this time, she could enjoy more of a regular existence, with friendship and routine. Perhaps, this time, Ella had genuinely meant it.

Alice lingered on the thought. It was tempting to believe that not only had their friendship contained a few shards of truth but that it might have genuinely meant something to Ella as well. For weeks, she’d been building a new picture of this woman in her mind. This new element seemed to fit: the loneliness, the need for human contact. There was something vulnerable there. Relatable.

But despite this new, potentially softer side to Ella’s actions, Alice couldn’t quite manage to forget the truth. Ella had left, in the end—with her money, and her trust, and her good reputation. Alice just hoped that when she found her, Ella would have a good enough reason why.

Chapter Twenty-five

With all her present leads on Ella now exhausted, Alice was able to turn her attentions back to the agency. Unlike her previous tactics of hard work, honesty, and reasoning, her new unorthodox route to becoming an agent was reaping rich rewards. Thanks to several phone calls, detailed strategy emails, and even a couple of hasty, clandestine lunch-hour meetings, Alice had secured Kieran and Julia as her very first clients. She’d been honest with them about her relative inexperience when it came to agenting, but (as she explained it) that just provided her with ample time to devote to their every need and the enthusiasm to make an impact. Having been all but abandoned by Vivienne, they were willing to take that risk—and signed fresh contracts to that effect, adding Alice as their named representative at Grayson Wells. Her first victories were complete; now, the only real challenge was how, exactly, to break the news to Vivienne.

***

“So, I was thinking we meet around six tonight.” Julian called after lunch, when the rain was streaking her windows with a dull drizzle, and it felt like summer was simply a passing dream. “We could grab some food before the film.”

Alice paused. “I told you, I can’t make it. I have that date with Nathan tonight, remember?”

“Oh.” Julian didn’t sound wholly enthused. “I wasn’t sure if that was going to happen.”

“Yes,” Alice replied lightly. “He called to set it up. We’re having dinner at this little place in Soho.”

“Well…Have fun then, I suppose. And check around before you order anything,” Julian added. “Half those places should be shut down by health and safety people. You can always tell from the state of the toilets.”

“Um, thanks. You have fun too.” Alice hung up, her mood too good to be dampened. And it wasn’t just her gleaming new status as an agent that made her swivel on her chair with excitement.

She’d been planning all week for the date. Not in an overwrought way, she was quick to tell herself, more the idle musings that always preceded these sorts of things—the outfit planning, the selection of shoes, the well-timed hair washing the night before. Alice didn’t want to admit she’d put more thought into this particular dinner than any other in a long while, but the dress laid neatly on her bed at home (with the perfect necklace, purse, and jacket set out nearby) spoke otherwise. She may not be the sort to spin out romantic fantasies the way Flora did, but Alice had an instinct that this might finally be something real.

There was a light tap at her door.

“Yes?” Alice looked up as Saskia edged in.

“This just got faxed to the main line.” She seemed disgruntled as she maneuvered around a stack of files and delivered the papers. “When are you going to get the intercom fixed? I shouldn’t be away from the desk,” she added, as if that were her sole worry, and not the inconvenience of two flights of stairs in her perilous heels.

Alice took the papers with a breezy smile. “Thanks. And I’m not sure about the intercom. They said it was beyond repair.”

“Then why not get a new one?”

Alice shrugged. “I’m sure I will, when I get the time.” The intercom was, in fact, in perfect working order, sitting in a box at the bottom of Alice’s wardrobe at home. But since she’d apologetically announced news of its passing, her co-workers had ceased their interruptions almost entirely, as if making their helpless requests to her face was too much of an effort.

“Fine.” Saskia didn’t appear pleased by the thought of navigating those stairs on a more regular basis. She turned to go, but then paused. “Oh, Vivienne said she wants to talk to you.”

Alice froze. “Did she say why?”

Saskia shrugged. “I don’t know. She said to go see her after the agent meeting.”

Of course she did. Alice had known her extracurricular activities wouldn’t go unnoticed for long, and she could just imagine what choice words her boss would have waiting to deliver. That was, unless…

“The meeting—” Alice stopped Saskia before she left. “Has it started yet?”

Another shrug. “Maybe. They’re all down there.”

“Thanks.”

Alice waited until she’d departed, then began to collect her notes. The weekly meetings were a tradition, gathering to exchange news of clients and possible agency opportunities, and to boast about their particular successes. It wasn’t that she was excluded from attending, but Alice—or Vivienne—had never seen the point. After all, she wasn’t an agent.

At least, she hadn’t been before.

Skipping lightly down the staircase, Alice found the agents in Vivienne’s salon, distributing themselves among her array of antique furniture. She took a seat on one of the velvet-upholstered wing chairs, feeling every inch the interloper. A few of the other agents gave her a look of brief interest, but they were quickly distracted by Vivienne, who was holding court with a story involving all manner of London theater luminaries.

“And so I said to Sir Kenneth, if you expect me to put that thing in my mouth—” She broke off, looking at Alice with confusion. “Didn’t Saskia say, darling? After the meeting,
after
.”

Alice gave a pleasant smile and braced herself. “Oh, she did. But I thought I’d join you all. Now that I’ll be moving to the agent side of things, I mean.”

That caught their attention. Even Tyrell, sharp suited in navy pinstripes and his usual black Converse sneakers, lowered his phone to look at her in surprise.

“Well, I didn’t think…” Vivienne looked perturbed, but Alice turned her attention to the others.

“Don’t worry, I’ll still be taking care of contracts, for now,” she said carefully. “I’ll just be working with a couple of clients as well, sort of testing the waters.”

Alice felt a faint wave of nausea roll through her. Never mind Rafael and moonlit seductions; this was by far the boldest thing she’d ever done. “Vivienne suggested I start with Kieran and Julia,” she continued. “So I can get a feel for things.”

Vivienne, having suggested no such thing, was looking even paler than usual, but before she could speak, there was a cough.

“Ah, congratulations,” Anthony said, reaching to shake Alice’s hand vigorously. “Yes, well done indeed. Excellent news.”

At his cue, the others joined with their own warm words. “Good luck to you.” Tyrell flashed his gleaming smile at her. “Just make sure you don’t fall behind with those contracts!” He laughed, not at all joking.

“Thanks.” Alice beamed back regardless. “It’ll take me a while to get the hang of things, I’m sure, but I’m looking forward to being a part of the team.”

There was silence.

Vivienne cleared her throat. “Well, now that we’ve got the…big announcement out of the way, shall we get down to business?”

As the rest of the agents settled, pulling out files and papers, Alice took the opportunity to sneak a glance at Vivienne. She was staring at her leather-bound notebook, but the tight smile on her scarlet lips betrayed her obvious displeasure. Alice forced herself not to waver. This was a calculated move, she reminded herself; the lengths that Vivienne had gone to avoid directly confronting Alice over the Rupert affair had proved, if anything, how indispensable Alice was to the agency. If Vivienne hadn’t wanted to risk offending Alice over that, then neither—she hoped—would she object to this.

“So, Alice.” Vivienne finally looked up, fixing her with a dangerous smile. “Why don’t you go first? Let’s hear what you’ve achieved so far for dear Kieran and Julia.” She waited, clearly expecting mumbled apologies, but Alice simply opened her notebook.

“I haven’t had much time, I know, so please bear with me.” She gave a self-deprecating smile. “I’ve withdrawn Kieran from those comedy auditions and decided to focus on pure drama. So, I’ve managed to set him up with some meetings next week: just informal drop-bys with commissioning editors at Juno, Pipergate, and BBC Drama, but it should give them a fresh reminder about his look, to keep in mind for future castings.”

Vivienne’s smile slipped.

“Now with Julia, I think her problem has been more at the audition stage,” Alice continued, her confidence growing. “So we’ve had a chat, and she’s agreed to meet with me to pick out a new work wardrobe and change her look to target older roles.”

“That’s all very well.” Vivienne seized the chance to interrupt. “But shopping trips aren’t exactly jobs, now, are they?”

“You’re right.” Alice smiled back. “So I also have a list of eight different auditions lined up for her next week. We’ll be able to get immediate feedback on the new approach and move on from there.” She closed her notebook and waited, heart pounding. If there were ever a moment for Vivienne to lash out, then this was it.

An eyebrow flickered in displeasure. Alice steeled herself for war. But, as if realizing the delicacy of their public setting, Vivienne just pursed her lips. “Hmm. We’ll see.” Her gaze drifted to the next victim. “Tyrell? This is no time to be checking emails. Put that thing away and tell me about what’s happening with Nick Savage.”

Alice felt a great rush of celebration. She was officially the newest agent at Grayson Wells.

***

After such a major victory, dinner with Nathan seemed like a breeze. Alice slipped home early to get ready, even inviting Flora to help select some jewelry and help her fix her hair up in loose curls. By the time Nathan arrived to pick her up, she was perched calmly on a stool in the kitchen, watching Stefan stir-fry a spread of vegetables with his usual crisp efficiency.

“Look who’s here!” Flora led him in with a none too subtle exclamation, as flushed as if she were the one going on her first date. She stood by the counter, beaming proudly.

“Why do I feel like a teenager again?” Alice joked, nodding at their audience.

“I’ll have you back by curfew, I promise.” Nathan laughed, leaning over to kiss her briefly on both cheeks. He was smarter than usual: cleanly shaven, with a crisp shirt and pair of dark trousers. Alice liked that he’d thought to make the effort and not just dashed there straight from work.

He made small talk with Stefan and Flora for a few minutes—about the restaurant selection and some upcoming charity event—and then they were on their way, Nathan’s hand light on the curve of her back as he ushered her out to his car. “I know, it’s a waste in the city,” he said, as if preempting an argument he’d had too many times. “What can I say? It’s in my blood.”

“The open road?” Alice waited while he opened the car door for her.

“No, dependence on oil and drive-throughs.”

Alice laughed, slipping into the seat. “As long as you don’t start talking about RPM and acceleration speeds,” she advised. “I’ll just glaze over if you do.”

“Car talk, off limits—duly noted.” Nathan grinned. “Now, where are you on American football and the NFL?”

***

Dinner drifted by in a pleasant haze of wine, delicious food, easy conversation—a miraculous change from the other, awkward dates Alice had suffered through. But with Nathan, it was simple: no stilted pauses or searching for common interests. It was as if their time together in Italy really had broken through that early stage of carefully selected confessions and measured responses, and now they were free to laugh and chat without caution.

“I can’t believe you finished that dessert.” Nathan followed her out onto the narrow street. “On top of everything else!”

“I was hungry.” Alice gave a careless shrug, slipping her hand through the crook of his arm. The rain had stopped, leaving a crisp freshness in the air, the sound of evening drinkers drifting down from the pubs and bars nearby. “Besides, it was clear you weren’t going to let me share any of yours.”

“I would have,” Nathan argued, not entirely convincing. “Maybe. Just a little. And I wouldn’t do that for everyone,” he added, patting her hand.

Alice laughed. “Well, then, I feel special.”

“Good.” Nathan looked up and down the street. “So…shall we get a drink somewhere?”

Alice smiled. She didn’t want to end the night yet either, but the prospect of a noisy bar didn’t appeal. “How about we walk for a while?” she suggested. It was warm enough that she just needed a cardigan over her fluttering dress, and her stacked sandals were safe enough for an evening stroll.

“Sounds good to me.”

They fell into an easy pace together, meandering through Soho and across to Covent Garden. Alice had walked this route a hundred times in daylight, but somehow, the dusky light made everything seem different—emptied of the usual rushing shoppers, it was peaceful, almost pretty.

“Do you miss the States?” Alice asked him. “You said you were from—North Carolina, was it?”

Nathan nodded. “But my mom moved to Florida, after Dad died, and I went straight to New York for college, so…It hasn’t been home in a long time.”

“I wonder about that,” Alice said quietly. “Whether home is somewhere you find or just wherever you decide to make it.”

She could have been living in her neat one-bedroom in Stoke Newington by now had it not been for Ella and her creative approach to charity fund-raising. Would she have been happy there? Alice wondered—if everything had gone exactly to her plan: if there had been no living with Flora, or trips to Rome, or new discoveries. Or Nathan.

Somehow, she didn’t think so.