Everyone in Van Aelten and Schaap knew that the Italian businesswoman had expressed a desire to have a pink diamond set made for her fortieth birthday. It had been the talk of the company for weeks. Now that Will had sourced the diamonds, they would have to come up with a design that the Contessa would like and that did justice to the stones. Bey felt sure that Clara would succeed. She was instinctively brilliant, steeped in the tradition of the company and very in tune with the tastes of their individual clients.
‘What would you do with them?’ asked Will as she continued to examine the biggest of the diamonds.
‘I’d like them in something summery and light. A gold setting. Some white diamonds too, of course.’
‘Of course.’ Will grinned.
‘Candyfloss,’ said Bey suddenly. ‘That’s what they make me think of. So something . . . well, candy-ish.’
‘I don’t think the Contessa is candyfloss,’ remarked Iolanda.
‘That’s why it’s better for Clara to do the piece.’
‘What the hell are they talking about?’ Will frowned. ‘I want to barge in, but—’
‘Don’t!’ Bey and Iolanda spoke at the same time.
‘She gets very cranky if you interrupt her,’ said Iolanda.
‘I know.’ Will sat on the deep window ledge. ‘I suppose I’ll just wait here.’
‘Want some coffee?’ Iolanda asked.
‘Yes please.’
‘For you too, Bey?’
Bey nodded, and Iolanda went out of the room to the small kitchen.
‘Did you enjoy your treasure hunt?’ asked Bey when they were alone together.
‘Of course I did. I got what I wanted,’ replied Will.
‘You always get what you want,’ said Bey. ‘The Stone Man is unstoppable in pursuit of the perfect gem.’
‘I don’t always get what I want,’ Will disagreed. ‘But I do my best.’
‘True. It was a long trip. Are you glad to be back?’
‘Yes,’ said Will. ‘Cally suggested I meet her in Barbados, but I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again.’
‘What’s she doing in Barbados?’ Bey continued to look at the stones.
‘Hen party.’
‘You might have been a little out of place,’ Bey remarked.
Will grinned. ‘That’s what I told her. She said she’d stay on a few days if I wanted.’
‘Hen parties in Barbados.’ Bey finally put the diamonds down and looked at Will. ‘Whatever happened to putting on a trashy veil and an L plate and trotting off to the local pub?’
‘I don’t think any of Callista’s friends have tried that,’ said Will. ‘They went to a Highland castle for hers. It was spa treatments and champagne all the way.’
There was a moment of silence during which Bey tried to think of something light hearted to say. Not coming up with anything, she pulled at her already perfectly neat fishtail plait, jabbing clips into it to keep it securely in place, her favourite way of regaining her equilibrium. Meanwhile Will replaced the pink diamonds in the brifka. When she looked at him again, her expression was neutral. She was good at neutral expressions as far as Will Murdoch was concerned. She’d certainly had plenty of practice over the last four years.
When she’d gone home after the opera event, she’d told herself, as sternly as she could, that her infatuation with Will had been based on his kindness towards her and – because there was no getting away from it – the fact that he was very, very attractive. Also, she’d repeated as she’d sat alone in her room that night, she was a bad judge of men. She’d misjudged Will Murdoch quite spectacularly. But no harm done, she thought, even though her heart still felt as though it would break. She hadn’t given herself away. She hadn’t let herself down. She hadn’t tried to take something – or someone – that belonged to someone else. She’d got away unscathed.
The next day she’d arrived into the office and started work on a minor commission that Clara had assigned to her, her pencil flying over the paper as though by firmly closing the door on the idea that she could be in love with somebody – no matter how unsuitably – she’d opened a different one into her own creativity. When she’d shown her drawings to Clara, the chief designer had nodded approvingly. She hadn’t made a single change to them, which, Bey learned later, was unheard of.
As she grew into her role with Van Aelten and Schaap, Bey lavished the same attention to detail on every design she worked on. She completed a necklace and earring set for Raisa Semenova, which the Russian woman said was one of her favourites ever; a pretty tiara for a young European princess who was featured wearing it in Hello! magazine, and an engagement ring for one of the singers who had appeared at the opera event and who was now making a name for herself around the world.
She allowed her heart to mend and didn’t give herself time to think about crushes or infatuations or potential boyfriends or husbands. She didn’t swear off men entirely – it was impossible when she ended up going to a lot of social functions – but she was never in danger of having even the briefest of relationships, let alone falling for anyone. There was no chance of Bey Fitzpatrick needing a ring for her finger. No chance at all.
In this she was almost the polar opposite of practically all of her close friends, because since beginning to work at Van Aelten and Schaap, she’d gone to more engagement parties and weddings than ever before.
She’d visited Dublin for first the engagement party and then the wedding of her old schoolfriend Áine; and then Córdoba, where Martín Jurado had married his childhood sweetheart. Their wedding day had been beautiful, at a time when the patios of the city had been overflowing with the magnificent floral displays that the householders put on every year. The scent of jasmine and orange had filled the air, and Martín and Paloma had looked radiantly happy. Bey had been happy for them too.
Her next trip was back to Birmingham, because despite always insisting that she had no interest in marrying anyone, her college friend and flatmate Vika had also tied the knot, with a man she’d gone out with for less than six months. And the most unexpected of them all had been Clara, who never seemed to have much of a personal life but who’d issued invitations to the entire company when she’d married her boyfriend the previous year.
Bey had had no choice but to attend Will and Callista’s wedding too, which had taken place shortly after the opera event. She hadn’t gone to the ceremony itself, but had been invited to the party afterwards, another glittering evening of jewellery and high fashion. It had been impossible to turn down the invitation as everyone in Van Aelten and Schaap had been asked and had accepted, and it would have looked odd for her to refuse. Callista’s father worked in the City, and the wedding had taken place at their country house in Derbyshire, a Grade I listed property that had taken Bey’s breath away. It was nothing like her grandparents’ farm in Cloghdrom, nothing like anywhere else she’d ever been before. And nothing like anywhere she’d ever go in the future either. She’d realised that Will Murdoch wasn’t the man she’d imagined the night he’d dropped her home. He wasn’t a farmer’s son from Scotland. He belonged here, with the rich and happy people. And she belonged somewhere else.
Anyhow, she’d told herself as she strolled through the gardens with a glass of Krug in her hand, jewellery and gemstones were her passion. They were far more reliable than men.
After Will’s marriage, she’d focused on her work with an intensity that impressed everyone around her. When Henry Austen left Van Aelten and Schaap, she was immediately promoted to assistant designer. She began to work on some of the more exclusive collections and with some of the company’s most prestigious clients. Now she was considered to be one of the best hires Van Aelten and Schaap had ever made.
She worked hardest of all to ensure that she had a great relationship with Will Murdoch and that he never, ever suspected that she’d once been in love with him. After all, he was the chief buyer for the company and it was important they understood each other. Leaving everyth
ing else out of it, they shared a deep understanding of precious stones. As soon as Will showed her his latest acquisitions, Bey could see why he’d bought them. Whenever he looked at her designs he could see why they were faultless. Iolanda, brought in when Bey was promoted, often said that they were like two sides of the same coin and that was why they made a great team. Bey would reply that she could work with anyone who had an eye for fabulous stones. Iolanda would say that Will had a better eye than most. Bey would snort and say there were plenty of good people out there. But, she’d finally concede, Will was undoubtedly one of the best. And then, sometimes, Iolanda would sigh and say that it was a pity he was married, because he was the sort of man any girl would like to spend the rest of her life with. And Bey would shake her head and tell her not to be silly, that basically it was all about the precious gems.
At last the door opened and Clara looked out.
‘Hey!’ Will smiled at her. ‘Here I am, bearing gifts.’
‘Not just yet,’ she said. ‘Bey, could you come in for a moment.’
Bey got up from her desk. She knew there was no reason for her to be concerned, and yet there’d been something in Clara’s voice that had unsettled her. She felt even more unsettled when she saw Gerritt’s serious expression.
Clara closed the door behind them.
‘Sit down,’ she said.
Bey looked anxiously between her boss and the company owner.
‘I have some news,’ said Clara. ‘I’m leaving Van Aelten and Schaap.’
‘What!’ Bey hadn’t expected that. If she’d ever thought about it – and she hadn’t – she’d have assumed that Clara would be with the company until she retired. But the older girl was looking at her with an expression every bit as serious as Gerritt’s.
‘I’m moving to New Zealand,’ she said. ‘Malik has got a job there.’
Malik was Clara’s husband. He was a doctor at Barts but had family in New Zealand. Now, said Clara, he’d been offered a great post there and he wanted to go.
‘He’s been supportive of me in the past,’ she said. ‘It’s my turn to be supportive of him.’
He’d been supportive of her while they were living together, thought Bey. But now that they were husband and wife, things had clearly changed. That was something she’d noticed when her female friends married. They nearly always put their husbands first. Men – at least the ones she knew – put their careers ahead of everything. Now Clara, the most career-driven woman she’d ever met, was giving up her successful life to move to the other side of the world with her husband. Bey knew that it was what you did when you loved someone. But she wondered how hard a decision it would be.
‘Couldn’t you design from there?’ she said. ‘What with today’s technology and everything, we could easily keep in touch.’
‘That’s always a possibility,’ Clara acknowledged. ‘But it’s not the same as being here as part of the team. And there’s the time difference to take into account. Besides, Malik and I may start a family, and I want to devote myself to that for a few years.’
‘I see.’ Bey was even more astonished. Clara had never spoken of children before. But then, she reminded herself, nearly every conversation they’d had was about jewellery. They rarely discussed anything personal.
‘That being the case,’ said Gerritt. ‘We need to replace Clara.’
‘Of course,’ said Bey. Her mind ranged over possible candidates. She wondered who the best fit for Van Aelten and Schaap might be. The company was a unique blend of tradition and innovation, and any new designer would need to understand that. After all, they had designed collections for royalty. They were part of history. Their heritage was important.
‘We think you have everything the role needs,’ said Gerritt.
‘Me?’ she squeaked. ‘Me?’
‘Why not you?’ asked Clara.
‘I . . . I . . .’
There was no reason why it couldn’t be her, of course, and yet she simply couldn’t believe that a mere four years after joining the company, she could be their chief designer. Although she’d wanted a great career with them, she hadn’t expected a promotion like this just yet.
‘You’ve worked well with us since the day you joined,’ said Clara. ‘You have a good relationship with the people in the workshop and with the retail staff too. You understand the difference between designing something you’re going to make yourself and designing something someone else will make. You also have a grasp of the economics of it. You get on well with our clients. But most importantly, you design beautiful jewellery. Your Reed Flute Cave collection was quite brilliant.’
Bey blushed at the compliment. Her brief had been to design something contemporary and youthful. She’d based her collection on the stalagmites and stalactites of the Reed Flute Cave in Guilin, China. During the Tang Dynasty, people who visited the cave wrote inscriptions on the stones, and each one of Bey’s designs carried a small inscription too. They had proved to be immensely popular, especially among the younger customers.
‘So we think you’ll be well capable of succeeding Clara,’ said Gerritt.
‘I . . . I’d be honoured,’ said Bey. ‘But to be honest, I’m speechless.’
‘Don’t be speechless. Be proud.’
‘I am.’
‘And be as good a designer for us as we know you can be,’ he added.
‘I will,’ she said.
‘So let’s go and tell the troops,’ said Gerritt.
He opened the door, and they walked outside.
‘Why are women always so . . . so lacking in confidence about their work?’ demanded Will as he dumped a sachet of sugar into his coffee. He and Bey had gone to the nearby Starbucks after Clara’s bombshell.
‘We’re not,’ protested Bey.
‘Of course you are,’ he said impatiently. ‘Since we sat down, you’ve done nothing except wonder if you’re up to the job and if they wouldn’t have been better getting in someone more senior than you – whatever the hell that means – when what you should be saying is that they’re lucky that you’re ready and able to step into Clara’s shoes. If Henry had still been here, d’you think he would have hesitated for a nanosecond before trumpeting how great his new designs were going to be and how he’d bring Van Aelten and Schaap to the next level?’
‘Van Aelten doesn’t need to be at another level,’ said Bey.
‘Every business needs to grow and change,’ said Will. ‘And if you don’t see that, if you don’t have ideas of your own, then perhaps I’m wrong and you’re right and you’re not ready.’
‘Of course I’m ready.’ Her voice was sharp. ‘Of course I have ideas. Of course I’ll move the company forward.’
Will laughed. ‘You see?’ he said. ‘Passion and confidence. That’s what you need, instead of saying things like “I think this is an excellent design, but if anyone has a better idea . . .”’
‘I do say that sometimes, don’t I?’ Bey picked up a spoon and scooped some froth from the top of her cappuccino. ‘You’re right. Dammit.’
‘Clara is a great designer, but the reason she’s successful is that she always projects that belief,’ he said. ‘You’re as good a designer, if not better, but you need to believe in yourself more.’
‘I do believe in myself,’ said Bey. ‘And they clearly believe in me enough to promote me.’
‘Yes. But you’ve got to take a grip on things. Don’t defer to people like Iolanda – or me, for that matter. I know jack-all about design but I know a good stone when I see one, and I also know that it will make a good piece. But it’s not until you show me something that I know that’s what I was thinking of all the time.’
‘I wish you didn’t have to tell me this stuff.’ Bey put the spoon back on her saucer. ‘You’re right, of course. I can be a bit . . .’
‘. . . too modest,’ he finished when she hesitated. ‘But don’t be. You’re the best at what you do. Let everyone know it.’
‘It’s not really me,’ said Bey.
‘I don’t like blowing my own trumpet.’
‘You have to make it you,’ Will told her. ‘You have to be proud of what you’ve achieved.’
‘It’s all thanks to you.’ Bey took a sip of her coffee. ‘If you hadn’t got me the job in the first place, I could have ended up flogging silver charms on eBay.’
‘You would have ended up somewhere just as good as Van Aelten,’ he told her. ‘I was the catalyst for this one, but talent will out, Bey. Sometimes it needs a push, though.’
‘I always feel totally motivated after talking to you.’ She smiled at him. ‘You’re good for my ego.’
‘I hope so,’ said Will. ‘We both want the same thing. To make our stones shine. To make Van Aelten and Schaap the best place to buy them. If you need a little encouragement from time to time, I’m the man to give it to you. And I’ll tell you something else,’ he added after he’d drained his cup. ‘Your damn family should be rueing the day they didn’t give you a job.’
‘I told you before, they have their own people and their own way of doing things,’ said Bey. ‘Even if they’d wanted me, they certainly didn’t need me.’
‘It’s bizarre all the same,’ he said. ‘If I were your father, I’d be moving heaven and earth to get you to design for me. And Warren’s could do with someone new, you know.’
‘They could?’
‘Their last Adele collection didn’t really take off,’ Will said. ‘They haven’t been using the best gems. They won’t pay the price. Times have been tough, but their problems are more fundamental than the recession.’
‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Because you don’t listen to the gossip,’ said Will. ‘You’re not out and about like I am.’
‘Oh well, I suppose they can get through a few lean years,’ said Bey. ‘I know the recession was hard for everyone, but things are getting better now, and I’m sure it’ll work out in the long run.’
‘If they can wait for the long run,’ said Will.
Bey frowned. ‘They’re not in real trouble, are they?’
‘I hope not. Nobody in the industry wants a company to fail. But they’ve lost the cachet they had,’ he replied. ‘With lesser-quality stones and designs that are a little tired, it’s easy to slip back.’
What Happened That Night: The page-turning holiday read by the No. 1 bestselling author Page 26
