Dreaming of Venice

by Dreaming of Venice (retail) (epub)

  What shift are you on tomorrow? How would you like to come round for a drink and a takeaway tomorrow evening?

  Penny replied that she was on the early shift and would be finished by four, so they arranged that she would go round to Caroline’s house at Crouch End at six. She found she was looking forward to spending more time with Caroline who, despite her posh accent, was turning out to be a good friend. Apart from Jimmy at the café and Vicky from upstairs, Penny didn’t have many close friends of either sex and it was refreshing to spend time with somebody new.

  She dropped the phone and looked round her room. In comparison to the hotel in Brighton or the Brookes-Webster’s house, it was scruffy in the extreme. Her bed was tucked into one corner and the wash basin was almost hidden from sight by brushes, pots and rags. She slipped out of her smart “Olivia” clothes and changed into her old jeans and an even older jumper that didn’t mind being smeared with oil paint. Then she went across to the easel and spent five minutes reviewing the last changes she had made and planning where to go from here.

  After a bit, she left her room and went out to the bathroom. It was free for once and unusually clean for a change. As she washed her hands at the basin, she found herself studying her reflection in the mirror. It still felt a little strange to see herself with short, immaculately styled hair, but she was getting more and more used to it as the days went by, and she really rather liked the new Penny. After years of scrimping and saving, desperately trying to find somebody interested in her work, she was hoping against hope that one of the big galleries might offer her space. If that happened, she knew it would represent a major step forward. It seemed fitting, somehow, that new career and new look should go together and she prayed that this whole Olivia business might be a sign of greater things to come. She swilled out her mouth and turned for the door, but stopped dead in horror. She stifled a scream, but only just.

  Her way out was blocked. Sitting between her and the door, apparently unworried by her presence, was a large grey rat. Presumably this was the same rat she had already spotted out in the corridor before, but there was no way of being sure. Maybe, she thought to herself, as she studied the repulsive beast with its bald, reptilian tail, this was a different rat, and the house was infested with a whole tribe of them. It wouldn’t surprise her. She took a deep breath and made a shooing motion with her hand. No effect. She stamped her foot on the floor, but apart from hurting her heel, this did little good. By now, the rat’s expression had changed to one of open confrontation, or so it seemed to Penny. His eyes met hers as much as to say, “Make my day”. She shivered and looked around wildly for a weapon.

  Her eyes alighted upon the only item in the room that wasn’t bolted down; the waste bin. This unappealing metal container had lived under the basin ever since she had first taken a room in the house. To her knowledge, she was the only person who ever emptied it and now, as usual, it was jammed with rubbish. She reached down for it and raised it above her head. It was surprisingly heavy.

  ‘All right, rat, you’ve asked for it.’ She took a step towards the door and slammed the bin down with a crash that resounded through the whole house. A fraction of a second before the bin hit the floor, the rat leapt in the air, performed a paso doble worthy of a matador and disappeared, unharmed, underneath the bathtub. Penny hastily stuffed the rubbish back in the bin and made her exit. As she came out into the corridor, the door of number 3 opened and she was confronted by the Strange Man. Tonight, he was wearing a pair of pyjama trousers, dark blue socks and nothing else. She glanced back into the bathroom, very tempted to go back in and take her chances with the rat.

  ‘Trouble?’ He wasn’t given to long speeches.

  ‘There’s a rat in the bathroom. A big, dirty, horrid rat.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’ve seen it?’

  ‘Frequently.’

  ‘And you haven’t told anybody?’

  He leant against the door frame and scratched his belly reflectively. Penny edged a little further down the corridor towards the sanctuary of her room. Finally he replied. ‘I didn’t want to frighten people.’

  ‘Well, it just frightened the crap out of me.’

  ‘Did you hit it?’

  ‘No, I missed.’

  ‘Oh… Well, all right then. Good night.’

  Penny turned and fled, vowing to start looking for somewhere else to live as soon as possible.

  A few minutes later, back in her room, just as she was beginning to calm down and thinking about picking up a paintbrush, her phone rang. She checked the caller ID and felt a little surge of pleasure to see that it was Owen.

  ‘Hi, Owen, how’s it going?’

  ‘Hi, Penny, all good, but you sound a bit flustered. Is everything okay?’

  Penny told him about the rat and her encounter with the Strange Man. He expressed disgust and sympathy. ‘If I were you, I’d find somewhere else to live.’

  With the extra money she was earning from Olivia, Penny knew she could now afford somewhere better and she agreed with him. ‘That’s the next thing on my agenda. Anyway, how was your week?’

  ‘I’ve been in Aquitaine all week leading a residential painting course and eating too much confit de canard. I just got back this evening. How was Brighton?’

  So as not to have too many different cover stories going round, Penny had told him she was going to visit her aunt and uncle in Brighton over the weekend. ‘Fine, thanks. I’ve been eating too much as well, but not lovely French food, I’m afraid.’

  ‘How about going out some time this week like we discussed?’

  ‘Definitely, I’d love that.’ As she said it, she realised how much she really did like the sound of another evening with him. ‘Where and when?’

  They arranged to meet for dinner three days later and, as she put the phone down, Penny found she was humming to herself. Apart from the rat, things were looking good.

  * * *

  She went into work next morning and found herself on the receiving end of the usual banter from the boys after injudiciously admitting that she had gone to Brighton for the weekend. Jimmy approved.

  ‘Very sensible, sweetheart. Far better you go and do your dirty work away from your local turf. You wouldn’t want to find yourself with one of your neighbours as a client, now would you?’

  For a horrible moment Penny had a vision of the clothes-stealer from Number 3 appearing at her door in his pyjama bottoms with a handful of used banknotes. She took a deep breath before replying. ‘Jimmy, you and I are going to fall out if you suggest anything like that again. We’ve been through it all before. I was in Brighton to see my auntie. I am not, repeat not, involved in sex for money. Now, are we totally clear on that?’

  ‘Of course, darling.’ Jimmy’s response would have carried more conviction if he hadn’t winked at her, and if Piotr from the kitchen hadn’t chimed in as well.

  ‘Your secret safe with us. We keep mouths closed. Maybe if you keep mouth and legs closed is better, too.’ And then he dissolved into hoots of laughter.

  To make matters worse, by this time a few of the regular customers had got wind of the accusations that Penny had turned to prostitution and the jibes continued throughout the day, some of them not so much humorous as creepy, and loaded with rather uncomfortable innuendo. As Penny sat on the tube en route to Caroline’s house that evening she found herself wondering whether the time had come for her to seek not only accommodation, but employment elsewhere. She was still thinking about it when she got to Caroline’s house. This was on a pleasant, tidy road with real trees, and the house itself was a charming 1930s terrace house that had managed to survive the Blitz and, clearly, had been on the receiving end of a lot of restoration work very recently. She rang the bell and Caroline opened the door almost immediately.

  ‘Hi, Penny, come in.’ Caroline led her through to a lovely open plan kitchen diner, looking out onto a well-kept garden to the rear of the house. This pretty clearly faced west, as the rays of the
setting sun reached into the room, turning the floor pink. The floor was wood, probably maple, and the kitchen units were bright and modern with a gorgeous granite worktop and a battery of stainless steel cooking equipment.

  ‘Caroline, this place is amazing.’ Penny slipped off her jacket and took a seat by the window.

  ‘Tea, coffee, champagne?’

  ‘Oh, God, no. I’d better avoid the champagne. I like it too much and there’s no point developing a habit I can’t ever possibly afford. A cup of tea would be great.’

  As Caroline made the tea, Penny told her about the rat, the Strange Man and the rather awkward atmosphere at work. Caroline had a suggestion for her as far as work was concerned. ‘You know the coffee shop in Piccadilly where we met? The JC? Well, I was in there the other day and I saw a notice saying they were looking for staff. With your smile, your accent and your three-hundred-pound hairstyle, you shouldn’t have any trouble getting a position there. And I bet it pays a lot better than the place you’re in at the moment.’

  ‘Three hundred pounds? Blimey.’ Penny was appalled. ‘At least tell me that included the nails and the facial. Please.’

  Caroline shook her head and smiled. ‘Nope. Just the hair. It’s probably best I don’t tell you what the rest cost.’

  ‘Oh, God…’ Penny was horrified and took a deep breath before continuing. ‘Still, the JC idea sounds brilliant.’ She remembered how daunting her first experience of the café had been and rather liked the idea of finding herself actually working there. Hang on, though. Isn’t there the chance I might run into Olivia there? That would stuff everything up.’

  Caroline shook her head. ‘She still hardly leaves the house and, anyway, as far as I know, she doesn’t know the place exists. It’ll be fine. Mind you, it might be worth concocting some sort of cover story just in case you run into any of her friends or acquaintances.’

  Penny nodded approvingly. A job there really did sound like an excellent solution, and she resolved to check out what they were looking for and what they were offering as soon as she got back to her laptop.

  After making the tea, Caroline sat down with Penny and they chatted as the sun disappeared below the horizon. A bit later on, Caroline took her on a tour of the house, which was immaculate, consisting of three good bedrooms and two bathrooms. It was when they reached the big bedroom at the front that Caroline made Penny an offer. ‘I’ll be quite honest. I had an ulterior motive for inviting you here this evening. The idea came to me over the weekend. How would you feel about renting this room off me? From what you were saying about the place you’re in at the moment, you probably need to make a change. You’d have your own bathroom and of course you could use the kitchen, sitting room and garden as well. More to the point, there’s that home office chalet thing in the garden that I never use. How would that be as a studio for your painting? There’s an electric heater in there and good lighting. I’m paying a load of money each month for the mortgage so it would help me no end.’

  She named a monthly rental figure that was quite a lot more than Penny’s current bed-sit, but the difference in quality between the two places was immense. They went out into the garden and Penny inspected the lovely light, roomy annexe. She took a look round, did a bit of mental arithmetic, and made a decision.

  ‘Caroline, I’d love to. This place is wonderful and, as long as this job with Olivia continues for a few months, I should be able to afford it. The only unknown is what happens to me and where I go after Olivia resumes her place in the Foundation.’ She had already told Caroline about her hopes for a place for her paintings in one of the galleries. ‘If only I can manage to start selling my stuff, I should be fine.’ She held out her hand. ‘If you’re happy to take me on that basis, it’s a deal.’

  * * *

  Penny got a call from Caroline next day telling her that Olivia had invited them both to go to Notting Hill at six o'clock that evening for a drink. Apparently this was wasn’t a formal event, just social, and her stepmother wouldn’t be there.

  Penny felt just a tiny bit nervous as she walked up the steps to the great house at one minute to six that evening. She still hadn’t quite come to terms with the gulf separating her normal life from this other world of boundless opulence. The door was opened before she could reach for the bell. Caroline had been waiting for her, the dog beside her. She gave Penny a smile while the dog stood up on his hind legs and stretched his paws towards her. Penny fended him off gently and then crouched down to stroke his smooth black coat.

  Inside the lounge, Olivia was standing by the far wall, staring at the Hieronymus Bosch. Coincidentally, she had chosen the exact same salmon pink jumper as Penny. As the others came in she turned and walked towards them.

  ‘Hi you two. Come and sit down.’ Olivia went over to the pair of massive leather sofas and took a seat, waving for them to follow suit. ‘Dump your coat on the armchair, Penny.’ There was a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket on the coffee table, and beside it a plate of nibbles. The Labrador immediately took up position beside the table, his nose trained on the food. ‘A glass of champagne, or would you prefer something else?’

  ‘Champagne would be fantastic, thanks.’ Penny reflected yet again that when weighing up the pros and cons of being very rich, champagne was definitely a major factor on the plus side. They went across and sat down while Olivia busied herself with the bottle, opening it efficiently and filling three glasses. She handed two across and raised hers in a toast.

  ‘Here’s to your continued success, Penny. Caroline’s told me how well everything went in Brighton.’ She took a sip of wine before continuing. ‘I’m really grateful to you for being prepared to do this, you know. My father’s death, coming as it did right out of the blue, hit me awfully hard and I haven’t been myself for some months now.’ She summoned a weak smile. ‘I’m getting better, honestly. The Foundation was my father’s life’s work and it’s his legacy. It meant everything to him and I know if he were here now he’d be very grateful to you.’

  ‘I’m very happy to help out, any way I can.’ Penny also tried the wine. As usual, it was excellent.

  ‘Anyway, like I say, I’m getting better. I really feel it. So, listen, if you can carry on taking my place for just a few weeks or maybe a few months more, say until Christmas, I’d be so terribly grateful. As soon as I feel confident enough to begin mixing with people again I’ll take over.’ Olivia took another sip of wine and smiled across at Penny, no longer a timid, hesitant smile, but a more open, friendly smile. ‘I must say you’re looking good. Salmon pink suits us, doesn’t it?’ They exchanged smiles and the conversation continued much more spontaneously and easily. By the time they left, Penny had warmed considerably towards her employer.

  That night Penny had the Venice dream again and, this time, she was sitting alone in a luxurious hotel, drinking champagne. As she looked out of the window onto a narrow canal, a big black rat came swimming towards her and climbed out onto the shore, still heading in her direction. But before she could chase it away, it disappeared somewhere beneath her feet.

  Chapter 11

  The following evening, Penny and Owen went out on their second date, although she was still avoiding referring to it as a date. She toyed with the idea of wearing one of her ‘Olivia’ tops, but decided against it. She was still far from completely comfortable wearing the plunging necklines favoured by Olivia’s stepmother and didn’t want to make things awkward because of her choice of clothing. Instead, she went for jeans and a tight, but not revealing, top.

  This time they had arranged to meet in a central London pub, but it wasn’t the best idea. The place was crowded, there was football on a huge screen, and the noise was deafening. After struggling for half an hour, they gave in and headed outside. It was a pleasant autumn night, dry for a change, and not too cold. Owen stopped outside the door of the pub, took a few deep breaths and looked across at her.

  ‘That’s better. How about a walk?’

  ‘That sounds l
ike a great idea.’ Together they walked for well over an hour through the heart of the city, across Trafalgar Square and down to the Thames, onto the Millennium footbridge, heading towards the Tate Modern gallery. Fortunately the autumn gales that had been raging for a few days had subsided. The sky was clear, but the stars almost invisible in the glow projected by the big city. Apart from the lights of a never-ending stream of jets passing overhead, a lone bright spot, low down on the horizon, probably a planet, was strong enough to make its presence felt. When they reached the middle of the ultramodern pedestrian bridge, Penny caught Owen’s arm and stopped him, leading him over to the railings at the side. She left her arm linked with his as they stood there, out of the way of the steady stream of people crossing the bridge behind them.

  ‘I’ve walked across here so many times, but I’m always rushing to get somewhere. We’re in no hurry tonight. Let’s just stop for a while and take in the view. It’s quite something.’

  He leant on the rail beside her, one hand reaching across to rest on top of hers. ‘I know what you mean.’ Looking east, they could both make out the shape of London Bridge, with the twin towers of Tower Bridge just visible in the distance. Owen pointed with his free hand. ‘Well, you can’t miss the Shard, can you?’

  The shape of the pointed skyscraper was unmistakable, its lights standing out clearly against the dark sky. Penny wasn’t in the least bit cold now after their walk and she realised she was very happy to be here with him. So much so that she reached up and kissed him on the cheek. He glanced down towards her, a smile on his face.

  ‘Enjoying London by night?’

  ‘Yes, and the company.’ This time he kissed her, and it wasn’t just on the cheek.

  * * *

  In the course of the next few weeks, Penny and Owen saw a lot of each other and she knew she was getting very fond of him. He was living in south London, not far from Dulwich, and she and he normally met up in central London. There was no question by now that what they were doing was dating. They ate together, drank together, even went dancing together on one occasion at her suggestion, though she soon discovered that dancing was not his forte. They visited galleries and even the Imperial War Museum, but rarely managed anything more intimate. They walked arm in arm, kissed and canoodled in shadowy places, but hesitated to take things to the next level. She was far too ashamed of her scruffy accommodation to invite him back there, and he was sharing a crowded house with three other men, so their relationship remained unconsummated. As the days went by, Penny came to realise that she was now in no doubt that she would indeed like things to develop between them.