Trophy Life (21 page)

'Oh yes, of course,' Darcy said. 'You said you’d been a lawyer.'

'Was she any good?' wheedled Olivia. She put an arm around Amy’s waist and continued. 'Such a clever girl, I’m sure she was, but I could ever understand why she didn’t carry on.'

There was an almost imperceptible pause as Jackie looked at Amy before answering. It was a pause just long enough for Amy to panic about the possible answer to this and for Jackie to communicate, albeit silently, that she had power over Amy. These women didn’t know about Amy’s biggest mistake, an error which affected two of their closest friends. The thought of what would happen if they found out about her old connection to Binky and Kitty was terrifying. Amy felt like a mouse in the grasp of a particularly sadistic feline: totally, unutterably doomed.

She waited for the blow.

'Oh Amy was a star,' Jackie drawled. 'She was excellent. I have no idea why she didn’t remain in law. She certainly had the eye for detail.' To anyone else it sounded like the highest of compliments, but Amy heard the sarcasm dripping from the words, weighing them down.

'How wonderful,' Olivia replied, the disappointment on her face not at all matching the effusive words. 'Well, it was great to meet you Jackie. Just fascinating your work. I’d better go, I think my mother is calling me.'

And with that, Olivia and Darcy wandered off into the crowd, leaving Amy in Jackie’s thrall. As soon as they had left, Jackie turned to her, eyes glinting wickedly.

'I had wondered what had happened to you,' Jackie said. 'So you’re planning parties now,' she sneered, looking around. All of a sudden, Amy saw it through Jackie’s eyes. She knew that to her, it all seemed so pointlessly frivolous.

'It’s for charity,' Amy said weakly. It was as if all of her energy had been sapped by the fear of Jackie exposing her. She felt like she had regressed to being that naive trainee from so long ago, almost like no time had passed at all.

'So now you’re making mistakes that affect the needy. Well done you.' Jackie’s mocking words hit Amy just as they were supposed to. They were like a knife ripping through the beautiful tableau of a life she had created; slashing massive, ugly gashes in what she had thought was indestructible.

Amy was tempted to give in. It was so easy to slink away quietly; to accept this older, more powerful, brasher woman as her superior. But she didn’t want to anymore. She wanted to stand up for herself and voice the one thing she had been too weak to say in the past.

'They never found that note you know. The one with the bank details on it. The one
you
wrote.' It took everything she had to voice these words and to do it with a steady voice, but Amy managed it. She had never shaken the inkling, the tiny thought in her mind, that maybe it hadn’t been entirely her fault. Maybe Jackie had written the number down incorrectly in the first place.

The effect was electric. Like a python alerted to a nearby foe, Jackie’s eyes flashed with recognition of impending attack. She straightened and Amy was taken back to that day in Felicity Braithwaite’s office when they had both been united in tension.

'You have no idea what your stupidity did that day. You ruined everything,' Jackie hissed, her voice infused with venom. 'I was supposed to become a partner for crying out loud. Do you have any idea the pressure I was under? And they gave me the trainee who doesn’t even have the sense to double check her numbers.' She looked disgustedly at Amy and shook her head.

Amy was infuriated by Jackie’s characterisation of her, but, more than that, she was intrigued. Was Jackie still not a partner? Was she still waiting, still competing for supremacy amongst the other associates?

'What happened?' Amy asked. She had to know. Jackie looked angrier than ever.

'What? You don’t know? You don’t know that they never promoted me? That that moron Bingham got it despite the fact that he billed half as much as I did? All because they didn’t trust me anymore.'

Amy wasn’t sure why Jackie was sharing all of this with her. It almost sounded as though she simply needed to vent. Just to let it all out. Her voice was becoming more and more shrill and Amy half wondered if to tell her to be quieter in case people started to stare.

'Oh, they never said it,' she continued, a note of hysteria clearly audible. 'They couldn’t, could they? But my workload slowly wittered away to nothing, partners stopped asking me for things,' she said, bitterness writ large on her face. 'And now I’m at some poxy firm which sends me out to places like this,' she motioned distastefully around her, 'To tout for business like a limo chaser. It’s vile, but at least there’s a hope of partnership in it. Even if it is as Poker, Poker and Jeeves.' She spoke the name of what was presumably her new firm with decided despondency.

After that, Amy felt the ire leave her. Jackie looked like a shell of her former self. Like a broken woman. She may have been one of the most despicable people Amy could think of, but she seemed to be digging herself into a hole all of her own. Both of them watched ruefully as Kitty Hijinx laughed uproariously at something, Kir Royale swishing as she did so.

'Some people just get things on a plate, don’t they?' Jackie said. Then, as if nothing had happened, she asked, 'Do you know where Irina Barachovsky is?' Amy saw that she was consulting a list. 'I hear she might be needing representation soon.'

Amy shook her head mutely and Jackie walked off, pushing her way brusquely through the throngs of people in search of her bounty. At that moment, the drunken twang of a guitar vibrated through the speakers.

'Ladies and Gentlemen,' slurred a man’s notably inebriated voice into the microphone, which Amy now saw had been wrestled from a bemused singer. 'I would like to dedicate this thong.' He paused. 'This song. To my
ex
-girlfriend, the gorgeous Bonky Hijinx.' A gasp emanated from the crowd at this pronouncement and Amy spotted a couple of security guards looking towards the stage, wondering whether they needed to act.

Freddie, who seemed to be thinking faster than all the rest of them combined, started climbing the stairs to the stage, but not before Miles managed to belt out the first few lines of one of his hits,
Die At Night
, elegantly adding Binky’s name in every time he sang the title words. The effect was less than impressive.

Freddie managed to whisper something in Miles’s ear, in response to which Miles slung his arm around Freddie and loudly confided, 'They’re just not worth it, are they.' He then acquiesced to being led off the stage.

***

It wasn’t until midnight that things started winding down and that was only with some encouragement from the hotel staff. They were technically supposed to have vacated the space by 11:45. Binky and Darcy had tried to convince her to go with them to a club, but she declined. As they left, she saw Harry sitting at a table, browsing his phone.

'Ready to go?' he asked, looking bored.

'I have to stay behind and clear up.'

'Ok, I’ll go back with James and Giselle.'

It took about an hour for the waiting staff and caterers to clear their things before the cleaners commenced working on the floors. The room began reverting to its original blank slate. She and Freddie wandered around the space, checking to see if anyone had left things behind and, before she realised, they were the last ones there.

'Quite the evening,' Freddie laughed. 'You’ll definitely get some publicity for the cause out of it.'

Amy laughed in response before asking, 'How do you do this as a job?' She pulled herself up to sit on the stage. 'It’s exhausting.'

'Yep, but I love it.' He had sat down by her. 'It’s funny how things work out isn’t it. I had no idea what I wanted to do, but somehow, I found my way to this.' He motioned around him.

'I guess things have worked out how they were supposed to,' she said, looking ahead of her into the empty hall.

She sensed him looking at her, his gaze almost tangibly warm on her skin. 'Do you ever wonder what else might have been though?'

His question was so direct, so out of the blue that, out of instinct, she turned to him. 'Do you?'

'All the time,' he replied. 'I would never regret Rupert. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But I do regret not having our chance.' He was now looking unswervingly at her, his eyes searching hers. Like he was asking permission for something.

She felt his face nearing hers and, as if forced by gravity to mirror its trajectory, her own face responded. Their lips met like waves hitting a shore and with it came a torrent of mixed emotions. Fireworks were going off in her mind at the warmth of him, at the sensation of his hand now on her cheek. She was transported to that sofa all those years back, to the feeling of comfort at being together. It was so natural. It was almost as if everything between then and now had been a mere intermission. Just filling time before they could pick it all up again.

Yet, at the same time she was confronted with the reality of the situation and, as a result, was utterly disgusted with herself. She was married. What on earth was she doing kissing someone else? How could she hurt Harry this way? She didn’t want this to go any further. She wasn’t sure how long the kiss had lasted, but she wrenched herself away.

'Stop.' She had pulled back and her finger was on his bottom lip. 'I can’t do this.'

Their eyes lowered, foreheads together, they were both silent for what seemed an eternity. All she could hear was the sound of their breathing, heavy, slow, in time with each other.

She lowered her hand from his lip and pulled her head away.

'I have to go,' she said, getting up. Her back was already to him when he spoke, but it made her stop in her tracks.

'Please.' She didn’t move. 'Amy, this is ridiculous. It’s obvious you’re not happy with him.' Freddie’s words seemed to come out in a rush.

'You don’t know what you’re talking about.' Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper. She turned to him.

'This isn’t you Amy,' he insisted, gesturing around him. 'This place, these people. It’s so frivolous. So stupid.'

His words felt like a betrayal of everything they had done together over the past months. As if he had been laughing at her while they worked alongside each other. At her – what did he call it? – frivolousness. The word was like a slap in the face.

'Oh, great, thanks,' she spat back, voice dripping with sarcasm. 'So glad to hear what you
really
think.'

'I don’t mean that.' He stopped as though thinking how to rephrase it before coming back triumphantly. 'What about your writing? What about your career? You seem to have given up. If he loved you he’d never have let you give up.' There was a pleading quality to his voice, but Amy felt like she was on the defensive.

'What gives you the right to say any of this?' She found that her voice was raised much higher than she had intended. 'You haven’t been here in
years
. He was there to pick up the pieces. He was there when everything went wrong.
You
weren’t. You were with her.'

All of a sudden, his expression seemed to shift, like dark clouds gathering in place of previously clear sky.

'Grow up, Amy. What did you want me to do? I was with my child.' She didn’t recognise this tone. He was practically growling at her. 'I couldn’t leave.'

Amy felt her inhibitions lowered by alcohol and her energy depleted by the night, allowing her emotions to bubble to the surface uncensored.

'You left me. And you barely explained. After that one call it was like you fell off the face of the earth. Since then I
have
grown up and it looks like you don’t like what I’ve become. What? And now I’m supposed to run back to you because you say so?'

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He looked empty and his voice was now so low it was barely audible. 'That’s not what I’m saying. I just don’t think you should be with a man you don’t love.'

She shook her head, lifting her hand to it as it began to pound, the mixture of wine and emotion starting to take its toll. When she next spoke, her voice dropped to meet his, almost inaudible even to her.

'My marriage is none of your business.'

And with that she walked away blinking back tears.

Ordering a cab from reception, she waited for her car on one of the plush sofas in the lobby. She wondered if he would follow her, wasn’t sure if she wanted him to or not. But her taxi arrived and there was still no sign of Freddie.

The ride seemed to take forever and by the time she was home, it was 2am and Harry was fast asleep. Without removing her dress, she lay there in bed in the dark next to him, wide awake with tears streaming down her face.

Chapter 16

Ever since Amy was old enough to dream, she had loved nothing more than waking from a nightmare to find that it hadn’t happened. She hadn’t lost her wallet. She hadn’t gone to school completely naked. There was no crocodile in her wardrobe. The relief was so glorious it would propel her from her bed with a smile. But now, as she struggled with the reality of last night, she crushed her head into her pillow as one memory after another forced their way into her mind.

When she closed her eyes she could relive the kiss. His lips. His scent. His hand on her cheek. But then, where had that anger come from? It seemed to have sprung out of nowhere. From a delicious kiss to her storming out. And him nowhere in sight as she left. 

They had been spending so much time together that it had been as though they had sleepwalked into their old familiarity. It had felt so good at first. It was like they could turn back the clock and travel back in time to that night at university. Revert to a time when their relationship had seemed perfect, meant to be.

But with the daylight came a stark clarity. She knew now that she had been waiting. Waiting for something to change. For something to happen to make things make sense. But Freddie wasn’t the answer. Going backwards couldn’t be the answer. Their argument had proved that. They just weren’t meant to be.

Her mouth was dry and there was a stale taste, a reminder that she hadn’t brushed her teeth. Her lashes felt sticky with mascara; even though she already knew so much of it had to have streamed down her cheeks, the evidence smeared on her pillow. Then there was the fact that she was still wearing a full ball gown. She must have fallen asleep whilst crying, although she couldn’t remember how long she had lain there silently sobbing.

She removed the pillow from her head and propped herself up on her elbows, looking over at her sleeping husband. His face looked so calm, so handsome in repose. Why would she want anything else? Her life today was great. Anybody looking at it would think so. She had just been fretting, and for what? What more did she want? 

Her marriage may not be perfect, but that was a completely unrealistic expectation. They lived together and things worked well. Well, well enough. What’s more, when it came to her day-to-day, the work she was doing with the London Ladies was worthwhile. Raising money for charity. Just because she wasn’t setting the world alight with her prose or as a thrusting businesswoman or professional didn’t mean her life wasn’t meaningful. It could have-

She instinctively gasped as she remembered the wine. Her heart was pumping hard now, chilling her extremities to numbness. Such a massive mistake. How had it happened? Hopefully they had saved it with the last minute auction. She decided to get up, desperate to get back to the HQ, to debrief and find out more.

She was just coming out of the bathroom freshly scrubbed when she found Harry waking up from his slumber. She felt a rush of overwhelming warmth towards him. She leant over and kissed him lingeringly on the mouth. He smelled musty and of sleep.

'Mmmm,' he murmured. 'What was that in aid of?'

'Just to say good morning and I love you,' she smiled, sitting beside him on the bed. 'You know, I’ve been thinking and maybe it is time we began thinking about starting a family.'

'Goodo,' he said, putting an arm on her leg. 'Let’s talk about it tonight.' He was still half asleep.

'Goodo,' she repeated, kissing him again before going to find her phone. There were several messages from London Ladies and other things related to the party. Meredith Filcher-Smythe had left her umbrella at the venue and wondered if anyone had handed it in. The venue had a message about an umbrella they had found. Olivia wanted to debrief, could she phone her back. There was a breathless message from Lucy on her voicemail praising her work and another from Jemima saying that a couple of local papers wanted a quote about the event.

'Well done you!' Lucy squealed delightedly at her when she called her back a few minutes later, cloaked in her dressing gown at the kitchen table. 'What a night. Honestly you did so well.'

'Thanks! I can’t believe it’s done. Was it honestly good? I have no frame of reference.' Amy knew she should tell Lucy what had happened with Freddie, actually she sort of needed to, but part of her wanted to forget. To pretend it hadn’t happened.

'It was amazing. Those flowers were stunning and the food. Honestly I’ve seen professionals who couldn’t do such a good job.'

Amy felt her chest swell with the pride of a job well done, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in so long it felt alien. In fact it was so unfamiliar that she hadn’t realised she’d missed it until it had come back.

'What was that wine auction by the way? It was great! Really got the room going.'

'Don’t ask. It wasn’t planned, let’s just say that. I’ll tell you more when I know more.' Amy laughed and Lucy followed, seeming to decide to let the point go.

'By the way I think Olivia had a little bit of a freak out,' Lucy was saying as they went over the rest of the night moment by moment. 'She couldn’t cope with the fact that it had come off so well. And what was she wearing? Pink is definitely not her colour.'

'Where did you end up by the way? I tried to find you at the end.'

'Oh don’t. My shoe broke and I had to go. Of course I completely forgot a spare pair.'

'That’s a shame; we had flip flops in the back. I’d have given you a pair.'

'Ah well, doesn’t matter. I was shattered anyway and probably drank more than I should.'

'I kissed Freddie.' Amy felt the words just explode from her mouth. Clearly she needed to talk about this more than she had realised. 

Lucy’s response was like that of a scandal-starved tabloid reporter. 'You what? A proper kiss? Tell me more!'

'It was a proper kiss. We were talking and tidying up – I blame you for this by the way if you’d have been there to help this wouldn’t have happened.' Her voice was half hysterical, half joking. 'But then we had this massive row and I stormed off and now I might have a baby.'

There was a pause on the other end of the line. 'Nope. I’m not going to be able to fill in the gaps myself. I’m going to need more detail than that.'

Amy told her everything, right up to her conversation with Harry that morning.

'So now you’re just going to jump into having a baby? Do you think that’s the right thing to do?'

Amy felt defensive at this. 'Having a baby with my husband of two years isn’t jumping into anything. If anything it’s taken a long time to get to this point. And Harry really wants to start a family.'

'Harry does, does he? And do you? You know it won’t fix anything that you’re trying to fix. A baby won’t change your relationship. It doesn’t seem particularly fair on him.'

'Of course I know that. I was confused before, seeing Freddie, but I love Harry and this is the next step. It’s right.'

Lucy was silent on the other line. She was undoubtedly deciding whether she could push her friend further.

'This is right, Luce. It is.'

***

The London Ladies headquarters was abuzz with excitement at the party and its apparent success. Amy had never been at the headquarters in the aftermath of such an event, but she had a feeling that this was more excitable, more lively and happier than usual.

'Oh it was wonderful,' gushed Esther as she flounced alongside Amy down the corridor to the office. 'That cake at the end? Well, I’ve never seen anything like it. And those singers. They were strapping weren’t they.' She was like a pan of water bubbling over with exhilaration and energy.

When they walked into the panelled room, the women there all stood up and huddled around Amy to offer their congratulations. She blushed and smiled her way through.

'Esther do you have the final numbers on last night?' she asked after everyone had sat down.

Esther looked a bit flushed at this. 'Numbers?'

'Yes,' said Amy. 'There was an issue with the wine so it would be good to be able to confirm the numbers and call the charity and let them know what we’ve raised. Then we can transfer it over.'

'Oh, yes,' she blustered. 'Let me just run it past Andrea. She always likes to see these things first.'

'Oh, ok.' It felt like this was the first time Andrea had involved herself in the event at all, but Amy was actually looking forward to her mother-in-law seeing the good job she had done.

So, when later that day she had a call to come into Andrea’s office, she had a little knot of anticipation in her stomach. The room was quite gloomy despite the glimmer of sunlight streaming in through the large Georgian windows. Amy had that sense of apprehension that always accompanied her dealings with Harry’s mother, but Andrea seemed in good spirits as she beckoned her in.

'Amy, come in. Sit down.'

As soon as Amy had ensconced herself in a plush leather seat, Andrea surveyed her. In a Carolina Herrera pencil skirt and Louboutin pointy heels, Amy thought that she should meet the mark, but she felt herself smoothing down her clothes just in case. Andrea seemed satisfied.

'I believe congratulations are in order. Last night’s event was a success.' Andrea’s tone was completely flat, her smile not reaching her eyes. It was the subdued congratulations of a judge forgoing a custodial sentence. 

'Thank you. It was such a worthwhile cause.'

'Yes, yes, those poor animals.'

'Children,' corrected Amy.

'Of course. So worthwhile. And the event was very lively.' It seemed as though Andrea might finish there, but she carried on. 'It was all a little different though, to what is usually done. A little,' she paused here as though searching for the right word. 'Unorthodox.'

'Well, we tried to make things a bit different to get a press angle. I hope we didn’t go too far. We tried to mix old and new.'

'Yes, well, it was certainly a mix.'

Trying to ignore this line of the conversation, Amy pursued a different tack. 'Do you know how much we raised?'

At this, Andrea looked unconcerned. 'Oh yes well I believe it was a good amount. Very good. Well done.'

Amy persisted. 'Do you have any of the final numbers? Only it would be good to finalise everything with the charity.'

'Of course,' Andrea said, standing up and walking over to Amy. 'I’ll let you know exact numbers when our accountants have dealt with it all. It might take a few weeks. It’s all rather complicated with the tax and everything.'

'Oh. Ok. Well, do you want me to help with any other events?' Amy asked. She felt a keen sense of ‘what’s next’ now that the dinner was over. There had been so much to do over the past couple of months that she couldn’t imagine not having anything to replace it. 'I have lots of ideas for things we can do. More ways to raise money.'

'That sounds wonderful dear. Why don’t you note it all down. In the meantime, why don’t you relax? You’ve done plenty.'

And Amy was ushered out. She couldn’t help but draw a parallel between Andrea’s approach to her just now and that she had extended to Olivia during that first London Ladies meeting when Olivia had wanted to run the dinner. Appeasing yet non-committal. Was she humouring Amy now as she had done to Olivia then? Amy would worry about that later.

Going back to her desk, she asked Esther, 'So, what’s next?'

'Next?' Esther was flustered.

'What do you do after the dinner is planned?'

'Well, the next event is usually the summer fete.'

'Oh, that’s in July isn’t it?'

'Yes, it’s very exciting. We get a marquee.'

'But it’s February. What do you do until then?'

'Well,' Esther looked like she as really thinking about this. 'Most of our ladies head off to sunnier climes at this time of year so there’s not much going on.'

'But there must be some people still here?'

'Gordon, the porter?' Esther said, bewildered. 'He looks after the place.'

Amy refused to give up. She would think of ways to raise more money. To keep things going all year round. She turned to her computer and started making a list of ideas. They could keep running events, run more of them even. But beyond that they could volunteer, do actual work in the community. She started getting excited at the thought of it all. The next London Ladies meeting was in two weeks. She would be ready. She would present them with a plan and a whole gamut of ideas.

Over the next couple of weeks Amy threw herself into her planning. She didn’t actually go the headquarters as Esther had said they were doing some construction work, but she channelled all of the energy she had at the event into ideas for fundraising.

Harry was busier than ever at the office so she found she had more time to spend on the plan. He was on television and in the press more than ever lately, doing morning shows,
Newsnight
and even
The Andrew Marr Show
on one occasion talking about the latest spate of quickie divorces in the media. Was it a trend? Had it always been happening, but nobody had noticed it? Were celebrities rushing into marriage and was this a reflection of society? The issues were fascinating. She watched every appearance and thought about things to ask him about them later.