Smiling, Amy slipped away and ran a bath. As she wallowed in the bubbles, she reflected on the fact that although she had mocked this life before – the empty days of the trophy wife – right now she could totally see its appeal.
It was another hour before David arrived, his face slightly flushed. Amy felt like Cinderella as the car gunned away into the night, bursting into a fit of giggles when it stopped just a few minutes away on Westbourne Grove.
‘We could have walked that,’ she laughed as he manoeuvred into a parking space.
‘Not in your heels,’ grinned David, coming round to the passenger seat to take her hand.
‘So where are we going?’ asked Amy.
‘Suko,’ said David, looking pleased with himself.
Amy gawped at him in gleeful surprise. The pop-up Japanese restaurant was so mythical, she hadn’t even been sure it existed. Rotating around various venues in London, it had fewer than a dozen covers and was said to serve the best sashimi this side of Tokyo.
‘How the hell did you manage to pull that off?’ she said, squeezing his hand in appreciation. Japanese food was one of Amy’s great loves and David knew it.
‘A gentleman never tells,’ he said bashfully.
When they reached the restaurant, they were led to a corner table, where they made small talk, keeping the conversation light and frivolous. Amy couldn’t help but think it was like a first date and, on the one hand, that seemed appropriate. After everything that had happened over the past few weeks, it felt like a time of new beginnings, a time to put everything behind them – the arguments and jealousies – and just reboot.
But she swerved around any reference to Josie and Juliet as the whole situation felt too raw. She’d told David about Josie’s overdose and her visit to see her at the Whittington the night before, but she didn’t want to dwell on it, as it was painful to discuss.
‘How’s Josie, do you know?’
‘I called the hospital today. She was discharged this afternoon. Karen is in London looking after her.’
‘That’s good news,’ he said as tiny plates of food started being delivered to their table.
Amy nodded.
‘So you’ll never guess who got in touch with me today,’ he said, detecting that his wife wanted to change the subject.
‘Tell me,’ she said nervously. The last thing she wanted was more surprises.
‘Louisa Bourne from the train,’ he said, biting into a square of yellowfin tuna. ‘Apparently she’s been trying to get hold of you all day. Did Chrissie not let you know?’
Amy frowned. ‘She left me some texts and messages asking me to get in touch, but Max said I shouldn’t communicate with anyone at work.’
‘Max Quinn. Caution personified. Who’d have thought it?’ David put down his chopsticks for a moment. ‘So it seems Louisa is fully recovered and wants to take us both out for lunch. By the way, she’s appalled by what has happened to you. Wants to discuss everything when we meet.’
‘We should set that up then,’ said Amy, feeling curious about Louisa’s offer, but wondering if it was still too soon to think about work. She’d had the stuffing knocked out of her, and all she really wanted to do for the next few weeks was take Tilly to and from school and listen to Radio 4 whilst she pottered about the house pruning the cupboards.
David took a sip of green tea and folded his arms on the table.
‘I spoke to someone else,’ he said after another moment.
Amy frowned. His tone of voice had become more serious. ‘Who?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘An officer with Thames Valley Police. He says they’re looking further into the abandoned vehicle on the train tracks.’
Amy waved a finger at him. ‘You know, I was just having a nice night back then. Let’s not talk about this any more. I want to forget about it all. For now, anyway.’
But David wasn’t going to let it drop.
‘They think it’s strange that an old banger would be left like that on such a desolate stretch. They want to find out why.’
‘Why?’ said Amy, sitting straighter in her seat. ‘How can you rationalise anything that punks, joyriders or criminals do? They do it because they think it’s a laugh. They probably stole it, were drunk or high and just left it there for a laugh, without thinking of the consequences of what might happen.’
‘Apparently there’s a CCTV camera right by that crossing. The night of the party, it wasn’t working, but it had been fine the day before.’
‘So what are you saying? That it was vandalised the day of the party?’
David nodded. ‘Sounds a bit convenient to me.’
Amy sipped her own sake thoughtfully. ‘People have been calling me paranoid for weeks,’ she said, lowering her voice to barely a whisper. ‘Now you’re suggesting this was some sort of sabotage? This is serious stuff. If that train had derailed, dozens of people could have been killed.’
‘It’s not a stretch of the imagination that Josie might have known some lowlife who could arrange for a car to be put on the track,’ David persisted.
‘She wouldn’t do that,’ Amy said, thinking of the girl lying in the hospital bed.
David looked at her, confused. She didn’t entirely blame him.
‘I’m not saying she had thought through the consequences; simply that it’s possible. She wanted to bring you down so badly, she might have gone to any lengths to do it.’
‘I don’t want to discuss this any more,’ Amy said, looking down at the table and then back up. ‘It’s gone, over. I have my life back. I have you back. That’s all I care about now.’
He stretched his hand across the tiny table. ‘I don’t think you know how much I love you.’
Amy let her shoulders relax.
‘Why didn’t we just get together in Oxford?’ he continued. ‘Just think, Tilly would be twenty-one herself now. We’d be empty-nesters. We could do this every night.’
‘Would we, though? Or would we be working till nine, ten every evening, reading proofs or closing a deal? Don’t you think we have enough money, enough status? You’ve said it before, David. We can’t keep chasing it, because we’ll never be happy.’
Her husband smiled affectionately at her. ‘One afternoon with Pog and already you’re ready to drop out of the rat race.’ He lifted her hand and kissed it. ‘Let’s go home.’
They’d barely been in the restaurant an hour, and although she was grateful that David had planned this delicious dinner, right then she wanted nothing more than to curl up in front of the TV with him in her cosiest pyjamas.
They paid the bill, and she tucked her arm though his as they walked towards the car. As she climbed into the passenger seat, her phone beeped to indicate an incoming message. She was tempted to leave it, but old habits died hard.
It was a text from Janice.
Juliet? Unbelievable: call ASAP!!!!
Amy sat in silence for a moment.
‘Is everything all right?’ said David, sliding into the seat beside her.
She wanted to put her phone back in her bag and just forget about it, but she had an unmistakable sense of foreboding. Her finger hovered over the screen, then she brought up Janice’s number.
‘Amy!’ The fashion director’s voice was excitable over a background of music and chatter.
‘Where are you?’ said Amy, simultaneously working out that she must be in Milan, at the shows.
‘Some party at the Bulgari. God, what on earth’s going on, Amy?’ said Janice without further preamble. ‘It’s like the world’s turned upside down. First you, now Juliet. I mean, what the hell?’
Amy flicked her eyes nervously over to David.
‘Slow down, Janice,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Tell me what’s happened.’
There was a pause.
‘You
don’t know?’
‘Obviously I know I’ve been suspended. But what’s this about Juliet?’
‘Amy . . .’ said Janice, her voice uncertain. ‘Rumours are going round the party like wildfire that the new editor of Mode is going to be announced tomorrow. Word on the street is that the person who’s bagged the job is Juliet James.’
Chapter 38
Amy sat frozen in her seat.
‘What’s wrong?’ said David after a moment.
She stared in front of her, not even able to focus.
‘Juliet. She’s the new editor of Mode . . .’ she said, her voice fading away. She could feel her phone trembling in her hands.
‘How do you know?’
She could feel thick bile rising in her throat.
‘That was Janice. She’s heard the gossip at the shows.’
Her eyes were welling up with tears; her stomach was tight and knotted as if all the air had been squeezed out of her body.
‘How could she do this to me?’ she croaked. ‘All the time we were in Provence, she never said anything. Even yesterday, when I saw her . . .’
David took the phone away from her and held her hands, turning in the confined space of the car to face her.
‘Amy, just stop. It’s gossip, nothing more. Guess-the-new-editor is just the latest parlour game. Until there’s an official announcement, no one knows.’
‘She sounded sure . . .’
‘Jules might have said she wasn’t interested, but it’s the biggest job in the industry. If she did apply, we can’t exactly blame her.’
She shot him a look. All she wanted now was complete loyalty from her husband, not excuses and deflections.
‘She’s not exactly played fair, has she?’
David didn’t reply, and she used his silence to let her thoughts take hold.
‘It all makes sense now,’ she said, her mind mulling over everything that had happened in the past few weeks. It had begun to slot together like a very elaborate jigsaw. ‘Juliet knew I was taking BlissVit and started the heroin rumours, because she knew it would be believable if anyone had seen any vials or syringes around the office. She knows better than anyone how the industry thrives on gossip, and also that Genesis would never hire anyone for the Mode job who had any scandal around them.’
‘Juliet is your best friend, Amy. Listen to yourself.’
‘I am listening, David. Josie told me that Juliet got her the job at Genesis. Hell, Juliet even admitted that much herself. She said it was because she felt guilty about what had happened in Provence, but Josie gave me a different version of events. Juliet told her to spy on me.’
‘Spy? Or keep an eye on you? Big difference, especially as we’ve all been worried about you.’
She knew that David’s allegiance to Juliet ran deep, but it was time for him to pick a side.
‘I’m your wife,’ she whispered with a quaver of fury.
‘I know,’ he said, squeezing her hand. ‘I guess I don’t want to believe that Juliet could do this to you.’
‘And you think I do?’ Her voice was barely a whisper.
‘You should speak to her.’
The prospect made her feel sick, but she knew that her husband was right. She had to hear it from Juliet’s own lips that she had stabbed her in the back. She was aware how painful that would be, but she had to know the truth.
‘She’ll be at the Design Week party. She mentioned it in Provence.’
‘You don’t have to speak to her tonight.’
‘Don’t I?’ she whispered. ‘David, I can’t even think straight. I have to hear her try and justify this, otherwise I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.’
‘Just call her then.’
Her hands were still trembling as she dialled Juliet’s number and held the phone to her ear. When it rang out, she wasn’t entirely surprised, although she still left a message that they needed to talk.
David had put the key in the ignition, and as the engine purred to life, Amy placed her hand on the wheel.
‘Will you drop me off at the party?’
‘Amy, leave it. Just for tonight.’
‘Please. If you’re worried about your mum having to get back to Esher, just drop me off and I’ll find my own way back. I have to talk to her.’
‘In which case, I’m coming with you.’
The London Design Awards was one of the most prestigious events of its kind, showcasing the latest architectural projects and honouring the greatest names in the field; a splash of glamour and excitement once the fashion circus had rolled out of London and on to Milan.
Amy knew that Juliet would be there, not because Living Style was a particularly important magazine in the design world, but because Juliet was thick with that creative crowd. In Provence, she had told them all about the pre-Awards reception she had been invited to. At the time, Amy had smiled at her friend’s less-than-subtle insinuation that she was important enough to have been invited; but looking back, she had always been genuinely excited about attending the event. There was no way she wouldn’t be there that night.
‘How are we going to get in?’ asked David, slowing the car to a stop near Leighton House, the grand venue in Holland Park where the bash was being held.
‘At Oxford you were the best blagger I knew.’
‘I think you’ll find that was Max. His motto for ball season was “no ticket no problem”. I just went along for the ride.’
‘Channel your inner Max Quinn then,’ she muttered. ‘If you don’t, I will.’
She gripped her husband’s hand as they walked through the park towards the venue. It was dark out here, with just the faint sound of music coming from the party.
Ahead of them she could make out a couple standing by a black chauffeur-driven car. She watched the woman touch the man’s cheek before he got into the vehicle, leaving the woman behind. For a moment, Amy lost her breath – it had been a simple but touching gesture that made her grip her husband’s hand a little tighter.
‘Are you okay?’ asked David.
Amy nodded, standing back for a moment to let the car drive past them. Her eyes drifted to the side window, and she frowned as she peered inside.
‘I don’t believe it,’ she whispered.
‘What?’
‘That was Marv Schultz.’
David buttoned up his jacket. ‘No real surprise that he’s here. I think World of Architecture magazine is one of the sponsors.’
‘Then who was that woman?’ she said, quickening her pace. She hadn’t been able to make out the woman’s identity in the low light, but she had been wearing a distinctive feathered cape that Amy knew would be easy to spot.
Juliet. It had to be. That was how she had got the job. Otherwise it was too much of a leap – an interiors magazine editor becoming the editor of Mode. Okay, so Anna Wintour had gone from House & Garden to British Vogue, but for Juliet it was too much of a stretch.
Amy was almost running now in her spindly black heels. There were two bouncers on the door, and she knew she had to get past them first. David caught up with her and touched her shoulder.
‘Goldman’s are also a sponsor,’ he said, looking up at the huge banner over the door. ‘Think I might have a little piece of magic in my pocket to sort that out.’
He pulled out a business card, then drew himself up to his full height and addressed one of the bouncers with all the dazzling public school polish he could muster.
‘Jonathan Reade, Goldman Sachs. Sorry I’m late. I’ve been caught up in a deal.’
The bouncer looked at his colleague for the guest list. The other man shrugged.
‘Bit late in the day for that. Someone took it. People are leaving, not arriving.’
David pressed the card into his hand. ‘We’re one of the headline sponsors for this evening.’
> The bouncer nodded officiously and waved them through.
‘Slick,’ smiled Amy.
‘Business card I picked up yesterday. Fraudently used. Sure he’ll forgive me given the circumstances.’
Amy stopped when she saw the feathered cape disappearing into the ladies’.
‘Wait there,’ she said.
She inhaled deeply and stepped inside. The loos were empty except for one cubicle. She could see pointed feet under the door, expensive shoes with a diamanté buckle. It wasn’t the ideal spot to confront Juliet, but at least it was quiet. But when the door opened, she gasped.
‘Suzanne?’
‘Amy, what are you doing here?’
Amy took a moment to think. Perhaps David was right after all that Juliet’s appointment was just a rumour. And that look between Suzanne and Marv suggested an intimacy that went beyond mere colleagues.
‘I was sorry to hear what happened,’ said Suzanne. ‘I do know a very good clinic if you need it.’ There was a genuine concern in her voice that surprised Amy. It just didn’t make sense.
‘Should you not be in Milan?’ she said quietly. ‘Or do you have to be in London for something else?’ Her mind was joining the dots now. If Suzanne was still in London, that meant she was going to be presented to the Mode team the next day.
‘It’s my mother’s eightieth birthday so I took her to lunch. I’m flying out to Milan tomorrow.’
‘I saw you outside with Marv, Suzanne.’
She watched the woman colour.
‘Don’t worry. I won’t tell,’ said Amy honestly. ‘I won’t tell anyone if you’ll just give me the heads-up on the Mode job. It’s you, isn’t it?’
Suzanne looked suddenly relieved. ‘No, Amy. It’s not me.’
Amy frowned. She’d been so sure.
‘The announcement. It’s tomorrow. Isn’t that why you’re here?’
She saw a trace of a smile on Suzanne’s polished scarlet lips.
‘I never even applied for the job. I’d be under too much scrutiny. People would ask questions.’
‘About Marv?’
Friend of the Family Page 30
