The Other Side of the Story (32 page)

JOJO

15

Book News
, 10 June

MOVIE RIGHTS SOLD

Movie rights for
Love and the Veil
, the debut novel from Nathan Frey, have been sold to Miramax for a seven-figure sum, rumoured to be $1.5 million. Brent Modigliani at Creative Artists Associates brokered the deal with Jim Sweetman of Lipman Haigh. The novel, which was agented by Jojo Harvey from Lipman Haigh, will be published in spring next year by Southern Cross.

Ms Harvey also represents Lily Wright, author of the huge surprise hit
Mimi's Remedies
, and Eamonn Farrell who's been long-listed for this year's Whitbread.

No mention of Miranda England who'd been in the top ten since January but hey, Jojo wouldn't kvetch. And nothing like some good news to get the old spending instincts into gear. It was lunchtime. Nearly.

'Manoj, I'm going out. I may be some time.'

'Looking at nail colours?'

It was one New York priority Jojo had never lost: the importance of nail-care.

'Nail colours, handbags, who knows? I'm wiiide open.'

But not for long. Out in the sunshiny street, she was hooked by a pale blue leather jacket in Whistles window; such an object of desire, her mouth went dry.

She went inside, found it in her size, held it at arm's length and stroked it like it was an animal. The leather was as thin and supple as skin and it was so beautiful it crimped her insides. It was also expensive, impractical and wouldn't survive more than a season; everyone would laugh at her if she wore it next year — but who
cared
?

Right on the shop floor, she shrugged it on, found a mirror - and abruptly the buzz drained away. It made her chest look as if it had been inflated with a bicycle pump. It was
obscene
. Mark would love it, of course, but where would she wear it with him? Her living room? Her bedroom? Her kitchen?

In her head, she had already bought the jacket, brought it home in its great bag and worn it twice - once to impress the Wyatt sisters. But now she reconsidered. It was way pricey for something that would never be worn outside her flat. She wasn't ruling it out, but she was going to
think about it
. Is this maturity, she wondered. If so, she wasn't crazy about it.

Back in the office, Manoj said, 'Smiler Sweetman was looking for you.'

She looked longingly at her sandwich but Jim would only take a minute. She ran to his office. 'What's up?'

'I've great news. Come in. Sit down.'

'My lunch is waiting. I can hear great news standing up.'

'OK, you stroppy cow. Brent Modigliani at CAA wants to have a "relationship" with us. With Lipman Haigh.'

Brent was the US agent who'd brokered the deal with Miramax.

'Having someone on the ground in LA, fighting our corner, means it's going to be a lot easier to get all our books onto the desks of Hollywood producers. You've got to take some credit for it.
Love and the Veil
got him interested. Opened his eyes to the calibre of work we represent here.'

'You got me, I'm sitting down.'

'He's coming over next week with a colleague. We'll have lunch someplace flash.'

'Who?'

'You, me and them.'

No mention of Richie Gant. Yay! 'You know what? Miranda's work would be PERFECT for Hollywood. Screwball comedies never go out of fashion. And
Mimi's Remedies
is
made
for the screen.'

Jim laughed at her enthusiasm. 'You've gone all Howard Hughes on us lately, but tonight you are coming out for a drink to celebrate.'

She thought about it. Nothing really on. Mark was at Sophie's school play. 'OK.'

'You gave up on the hypnotherapist?'

'No. Well, yeah, I
like
smoking, I'm a smoker. Even though we're a dying breed.'

'Dying, yeah.'

'No zeal like a convert.'

Back at her desk, she ate her sandwich and checked her emails. Just one, from Mark.

TO:
Jojo.harvey@LIPMAN HAIGH.co

FROM:
Mark.avery@LIPMAN HAIGH.co

SUBJECT: Monday night?

Can I pencil it in? I'm sorry about this weekend. Bloody parents' golden wedding anniversary. Bloody daughter's school play tonight. Have a nice - but not too nice - weekend without me.

M xx

PS Yvooluie

It had snuck up on them but in the past few months she and Mark had been spending more and more time with each other. They spent most Sundays together, Shayna had got them over for her precious brunch and they'd even, on occasion, taken their love to town: they'd gone to Bath for a two-day mini-break over Easter where they'd enjoyed lots of sex between professionally starched sheets and went for meandery strolls through the streets, holding hands, certain they were so far from London, no one would see them. At the end of the two days Mark had had to hurry back to take his family to Austria for a week's skiing, and this suited Jojo just fine. She'd had him full-on for forty-eight hours and now he was being nice to his family so she didn't even have to feel guilty.

'You sure skiing is a good idea?' she had asked. 'Your little guys are kinda accident prone. And don't they have lots of cheese in Austria?'

'That's Switzerland. You Americans, you know nothing about Europe.'

'You are so wrong.' Playfully she'd poked his crotch with the toe of her boot. 'I know about Danish pastries. I know about Swedish massages. I know about Spanish Fly.' She increased the pressure with her boot and began moving it gently back and forth. 'And I know,' she said tantalizingly, '
all
about French kissing.'

'You do?'

'Like,
all
about it.'

In silence they both watched her boot rise, lifted by something rising beneath it. 'Show me,' he asked.

'No. Not until you apologize.'

He apologized.

Since the night with the Italians when Mark had accidently slept through to morning, he now stayed over in Jojo's about once a week. Cassie didn't complain about him not coming home and Jojo was baffled by her passivity. 'What do you
tell
her?'

'That I'm talking to the West Coast or I'm entertaining publishers and that I don't want to disturb her by staggering in at three in the morning when she's got work the next day.'

'She buys it?'

'She seems to. She just asks that I let her know by midnight so she can put the mortice lock on the door.'

'Where does she think you sleep?'

'In a hotel.'

'No way would
I
buy that. No way. If my husband suddenly started staying away nights, when his job hadn't changed, I'd beat the shit out of him with a tyre-iron and wouldn't stop till I'd gotten some answers.'

'Not everyone's like you, Jojo.'

'Yeah.' And she understood that sometimes it's too painful for people to see what's under their noses. That hurt. She didn't want to cause Cassie — anyone — pain.

But what could she do? Stop seeing Mark? Not possible.

TO:
Mark.avery@LIPMAN HAIGH.co

FROM:
Jojo.harvey@LIPMAN HAIGH.co

SUBJECT: Nice weekend?

Monday night good. Far away but good. But excuse me? Have a nice weekend? How can I have a nice weekend? I will never forgive you for the way you treated me on my birthday.

JO xx

PS Eoovilyu too

Four weekends previously, on the twelfth of May, Jojo had turned thirty-three. Some time before it, Mark said to her, 'I'm taking you away for your birthday.'

'Yeah?' Hot with pleasure at his thoughtfulness. 'Where?'

He paused. 'London.'

'London? This London?'

Before she had time to tell him to go and fuck himself, he passed her a sheet of paper. 'It's a timetable.'

Jojo's Birthday Weekend

Friday 3.30 p.m.:
Skive off work early. Proceed separately to Brook Street and check into Claridges hotel.

'Claridges! I've always wanted to stay at Claridges!' It figured large in her fantasy, Agatha Christie-style Britain — cream teas and snooty butlers and 'gels' up from the country for the day, taking tea with their eccentric great-aunts, the kind of women who wore the family jewels to do the gardening.

'I know,' he said.

She was so touched that for a moment she half-considered crying, then couldn't be bothered.

Friday 4.00 p.m.: Try out the facilities of the suite

'Suite! I love you.'

paying particular attention to the bed, then step out onto nearby Bond Street to look for Jojo's birthday gift.

She looked up again. 'Bond Street is
way
expensive.'

'I know.'

She eyed him with admiration. 'What a guy.'

Friday 7.00 p.m.: Drinks, then dinner in a restaurant where I had to promise to get the chef a book deal, in order to get a reservation this side of Christmas.

* * *

Saturday morning: Breakfast in the suite, followed by a swim in the hotel pool, then return to Bond Street to continue the search for Jojo's gift.

Afternoon at leisure: Perhaps measuring the bounce of the bed.

Saturday 7.00 p.m.: Cocktails, then dinner in a different but still insanely difficult-to-get-into restaurant.

<>* * *
<>

<>

Sunday morning: Breakfast in the suite, another swim and a final test of the bedsprings.

12 Noon: Check out and home.

It had been the perfect weekend. When they'd arrived, flowers and champagne were waiting in the room. They'd had sex about sixty times, even in the swimming pool when they'd been the only people there - she hadn't meant to, she thought it was kind of tacky, but at the time he'd worked her up into such a state she was beyond caring.

Patiently he went from shop to shop with her, admired pocketbook after pocketbook, even though she knew they seemed identical to him and paid attention as she pointed out how the stitching was white on one and black on the other and what a difference it made. The only sign that he was cracking slightly was when she couldn't decide between the Prada tote with the shoulder-strap or the identical Prada tote with the slightly shorter hand-straps and he said he'd buy her both.

'Oh, I get it,' she laughed. 'You're worried about the furniture in the suite. We should go back and check it again.'

They had afternoon tea in the Garden Room, they drank the champagne with their room-service lunch on Saturday afternoon and the only hiccup in the two days was when he'd steered her towards the rings in Tiffany.

'Maybe you should pick one,' he said.

'Don't be a dumbass,' she said, suddenly angry at him. The last thing she wanted during this precious time was to be reminded that he was married.

That night in the restaurant, as they looked at their menus he took her hand. She twisted it out of his grasp but again he went for it.

'Mark,' she frowned. 'Anyone could see us.'

'Your point?'

'While we're in London we have to play it safe.'

'Playing it safe is the most dangerous thing a woman like you could do.'

She burst out laughing. '
Moonstruck
? Nicolas Cage says it to Cher? Am I right?'

Mark sighed. 'You were meant to think I made it up. You are the most amazing woman I've ever met. You know everything.'

TO:
Jojo.harvey@LIPMAN HAIGH.co

FROM:
Mark.avery@LIPMAN HAIGH.co

SUBJECT: Birthday weekend

Didn't you enjoy it?

TO:
Mark.avery@LIPMAN HAIGH.co

FROM:
Jojo.harvey@LIPMAN HAIGH.co

SUBJECT: Enjoy it?

Yes. Far too much. Nothing will ever be as nice ever again.

16

6.30 Friday evening, the Coach and Horses

Lots of people showed up for the celebratory drink—after all, the company was paying. Richie Gantwas sharking around, trying to get a piece of the action, but Jojo and Jim were the focus, seated together like a king and queen, drinking vodkatinis.

'See, it's not so bad,' Jim said. 'I remember when we could always count on you on Friday nights.'

'You're right.' She was flushed and happy. 'I'm having the
best
time. Could be something to do with all this alcohol, but who's complaining? So, how are things with you, Jim? How's Amanda?'

'Jojo, you are so out of touch. Amanda dumped me weeks ago.'

'She did? I'm sorry. Do you have a new girl?'

'Currently auditioning. But no.'

There was a weird little pause and alerted by some sixth sense, Jojo said, 'You didn't ask if I have a boyfriend.'

Then there was another weird little pause and Jim said, 'That's because I know you have.'

Time stopped.

'I know about Mark.'

Her stomach bumped, like she was in an elevator which had stopped unexpectedly. 'He told you?'

'I guessed.'

'Then he told you? When?'

'Today.'

All at once she was completely sober and very angry with Mark. This was a deal-breaker, he wasn't the only one with lots to lose if their relationship became public. It would not play well in the partnership discussions. She thought of how close Jim and Richie Gant were and suddenly felt nauseous.

Mark should have told her! Someone knowing her secrets and her unaware that they knew — it put her
so
on the back foot.

'Don't be too hard on Mark. He needs someone to talk to.'

She couldn't even ring Mark to yell at him. What a pisser.

'Don't worry,' Jim said. 'Your secret's safe with me.' Jojo didn't know if she should believe him. She didn't know if she should trust him. She was suddenly very paranoid.

'Gotta go.' She gathered up her stuff, made a call and caught a cab to Becky and Andy's.

In the taxi, her anger with Mark suddenly busted out and she thought, I'm not going to suck it up until next time I see him. So she texted, Call me.

Almost immediately he rang back.

'What's the deal with Jim Sweetman?' she asked.

'He already knew.'

'No-he-did-not. You're way off here, Mark. Maybe Jim
thought
he knew but until you tell him he doesn't know for sure.
Capisce
?'

'Jojo, he saw me outside your flat at nine-thirty last Sunday morning.'

'He did? How?'

'He was driving past.'

'Why was he doing that?'

'He lives in West Hampstead. Not so far from you. I was caught red-handed. Believe me, Jojo, try as I might, this was one situation I could not talk my way out of. I would have if I could.'

She kept it zipped. They'd taken so many risks, getting caught at some stage was inevitable. But why did it have to be by someone they worked with?

'Jim can be trusted,' Mark said.

'I sure hope so.' She could still hang him up for something. 'So why didn't you tell me he knew?'

'I did.' He sounded confused. 'I emailed you. As soon as he'd left my office.'

'What time?'

'Four, four-thirty?'

She hadn't checked her emails. In celebratory, Friday mode she'd decided not to bother and had gone straight to the pub. Not like her. A mistake.

'OK.' Mark was clean. He hadn't done anything wrong. 'You're off the hook.'

'Welll! I thought you were going to read me my Miranda rights and allow me my one phone call.'

'Rights? Phone call?' She managed a laugh. 'You'd be lucky.'

'I'm so sorry I can't see you this weekend.'

'It's OK. Mazie Wyatt of the fabulous Wyatt sisters is having her thirtieth-birthday party tomorrow night. It's fancy dress. That'll keep me entertained.'

'Remind me again, which one do you have the crush on?'

'Magda. But -'

' - not in a sexual way,' they chanted together.

'Thanks for letting me know,' Mark said, suddenly very serious.

Huh?

'She's a great author and we'll be sorry to lose her.'

Cassie must have come into the room.

'See you on Monday.'

She filled Becky and Andy in on what had happened.

'Once the people in work start finding out, soon everyone's going to know,' she said.

'But it's not like you're not taking risks anyway,' Andy said. You
want
to be caught. Why not just do the decent thing and tell his wife before someone does it for you?'

Jojo took a deep breath. 'I'll tell you why. Because it's the shittiest thing in the world to think about breaking up a marriage. Not just the wife but the pain of his children. How're they going to get over it?'

'I dunno,' Andy said, 'but this sort of thing happens all the time. Well, a lot.'

' This is so not me. It's like starting a war. I can't believe I'm even, like,
con
templating it. How come other people have it so easy? They hate the wife, they say it's her fault for gaining weight or never giving the guy blow jobs. How come it's not like that for me? How come I'm ashamed of myself?'

'So dump him.' Andy was getting bored. He couldn't help it, he was a man.

'I'm not that ashamed. Which makes me even more ashamed.'

'This is all a little post-modern for me.'

'If- when — if— Mark and I go public on this, it's not going to be a rosy fade-out. No matter how it happens, it'll be ugly. Fact.'

'But
is
it going to happen? Yes or no?' Without giving her a chance to answer, Andy continued, 'I'm disappointed in you, Jojo. Most women, they do nothing but talk about things. They talk, talk, talk and never
do
. Look at poor Becky with her job. Sorry, love,' he said in an aside to Becky. 'I know you can't help it. But I'd expected better from you, Jojo. Tell me I've not been wrong. Tell me you're going to put your money where your mouth is. I need something to believe in.'

'City have just sacked their manager,' Becky explained.

'OK,' Jojo swallowed. 'It's going to happen, it's just a question of when. But when I think of myself at Sam's age…' She paused, then went on, her voice wobbling, 'When I think of Sophie and Sam being without their dad…'

Tears overwhelmed her and she sobbed silently into her chest while Becky and Andy made 'Yikes' faces at each other. Jojo wasn't supposed to cry.

That night in bed, she faced it. She was waiting for a time when the pain of not being with Mark was greater than the pain of breaking up his marriage and leaving his children fatherless. And it hadn't come yet.

She loved Mark but she held back a bit. She'd never — other than jokingly - told him that she loved him and more than once he'd said, 'You're holding out on me, Jojo.'

Thing was, she didn't want her feelings to overwhelm her to the point where she would do something that conflicted so violently with her moral code.

But Andy was right. She and Mark were taking more risks. Like,
looking
to be caught, for the decision to be taken for them, no?

And what would their life together be like? Where would they live? Would she have to sell her apartment? Yes, and that was OK. She'd have to join a gym, though, the stairs kept her fit. Sorta. They might have to buy a house in the suburbs.

But it didn't frighten her any more. I'm ready for this, she realized. Almost. She and Mark could travel into work together, sleep together every night, wake up together every single morning and all the sneaking around could stop.

And no, she didn't think the thrill of Mark would disappear. People often said that affairs were all about frantic sex and would never survive the transition from snatched meetings to dull domesticity, but when she and Mark were alone, they were dull as
fuck
. Apart from the sex, which was still compelling, they did quiet little things. She cooked him dinner, they read magazines, they did cryptic crosswords, they discussed work. All they needed were the carpet slippers. 'Mark, look at us,' she'd exclaimed, the previous Sunday. We're like an old married couple.'

'That can be arranged.'

'Don't!'

She sighed into the darkness. She was going to cause pain to others and shame herself and she was just going to have to tough it out. Lucky she was good at doing stuff she didn't want to, but just because she was good at it, didn't mean she had to like it.