Changing Perspectives

by Jen Silver

  “Hello.” Camila’s voice sounded distant.

  “Hello, yourself. Business or pleasure?” Dani tried for a light tone.

  “Mainly business, I’m afraid.”

  “How long?” It was no good; a measure of desperation was taking hold.

  “They haven’t said. I’m hoping it will be tomorrow.”

  “Lunch?”

  Silence on the other end, but Dani could hear her breathing.

  “I’m so sorry. I wish I could.” More silence.

  Declan arrived with her coffee and bacon sandwich. She nodded her thanks, keeping her hand over the mouthpiece.

  “Dani, what time will you be home today?”

  Hope leapt in her chest. She removed her hand to answer. “Um, probably about six thirty or seven.”

  “Expect a delivery. I’m sorry it can’t be more, but consider it a promise.”

  Dani opened her mouth to ask what was being delivered, but Camila was gone.

  †

  Camila’s foot brushed against the long thin box under her desk. She had managed to smuggle it out of the flat when she left for work. Her parents were still in bed. Leaving it there didn’t seem safe. She was sure her father’s curiosity would get the better of him at some point during the day.

  Hearing Dani’s voice, she had wanted to rush straight over to MBE’s offices just to see her, to hold her. At dinner when her mother asked, yet again, whom she was seeing, she had dodged the question, yet again. Why was she acting like a teenager with something to hide? She was a grown woman. Her career choice had made her father proud; he had been a banker. Was she still trying to please him, worried her life choices would change how he viewed her?

  There were so many times when she should have told her parents about the true nature of her relationship with Allison. That her lover had died without them knowing what she meant to her was something that haunted Camila still.

  Although it had only been a few days, the connection she felt with Dani held all the intensity of the real thing. Camila promised herself that if it looked like more than just a passing fancy, she would take the plunge. Love shouldn’t be hidden away. She didn’t need to continue living a lie, keeping such a vital part of herself secreted.

  †

  Gordon put the receiver down without dialling and sat back in his chair. He closed his eyes. He really needed to do this, and it wouldn’t help his cause if he kept chickening out. Stephen had told him in no uncertain terms that if Dani were able to take the Redmond account with her, he was in big trouble.

  Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes, picked up the phone again and pushed the buttons for the number he knew so well.

  He was in luck. The receptionist told him Mr Redmond was still there and would take his call.

  Eric Redmond’s voice came through loud and clear. “Gordon McKenzie. What can I do for you?”

  Gordon swallowed and attempted an easy tone. “I was wondering if we’re still good for the next phase of television ads.”

  “Ah. I thought we would be hearing from you. I’ve been informed that the MBE partnership is being dissolved.”

  “Yes, well, it’s not finalised yet. We’re still working out the details.”

  “Hm. It’s always a painful business and I’m sorry, Gordon, but our inclination will be to go with Dani Barker after the split.”

  “Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

  “In what way?”

  “Dani told me she’s sleeping with your financial director.”

  Gordon waited for the bombshell to hit home. The reaction, however, wasn’t what he expected. There was a burst of laughter at the other end of the line, which turned rapidly into a coughing fit.

  When he had recovered, Eric said, “Well, well. Our Camila is full of surprises. That makes the decision even easier. I’ve tried to poach Dani several times. For some strange reason, she stayed loyal to you.”

  Gordon gulped. “She would never fit into your organisation. You know she’s totally off the wall.”

  Another laugh. “Oh, I know. Dani and I go back a long way.”

  “You’re kidding. She’s never said.”

  “Why do you think you got our account in the first place? It wasn’t through your powers of persuasion. If Dani does go solo, we will find a way to work with her. Goodnight, McKenzie. And good luck.”

  Gordon sat back in his chair staring at his phone. Dani and Eric Redmond. He wouldn’t have put them in the same room together, let alone being friends. How did he not know this? Perhaps Dani was right and he’d had his head up his own arse for too long. One thing was clear: he needed to talk to Dani. Somehow, he had to smooth things over. No way did he want to lose her to Redmond.

  †

  Dani ran the last few yards to her house. The Tube trains had been packed for the Friday night exodus from the city and she only had minutes to spare. The clock on her living room mantelpiece showed seven on the dot as she entered the room.

  She stopped to catch her breath before going into the kitchen to open a can of beer. Deciding to be civilised for a change, she poured the liquid into a glass and took it into the hallway to wait by the door.

  As she expected, knowing Camila’s formidable organisational skills, the delivery came at exactly ten minutes past seven.

  As she signed for the parcel, her eyes widened at the size and shape of it. Dani took it into the living room and tore the paper off. She paused to stroke the long contours of the fine mahogany case. It was a work of art in itself.

  She took a deep breath before lifting the lid. Two beautifully crafted birch rods, approximately four foot in length, nestled in the felt-lined interior. Overcome with emotion, Dani sat and gazed at the canes in wonder. Camila’s promise. This was beyond her expectations. Beyond even her wildest imaginings. She could now start to believe that Camila was indeed ready to take the next step in their relationship.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The only way Camila was going to get through the weekend was to stop thinking of Dani, but as she let the silky garment slip through her fingers, her mind was straying to their last night together.

  “Well, dear, I can see there must be someone special in your life.”

  Her mother’s voice brought her out of her daydream. Camila let go of the bright red camisole and turned around.

  “You should buy it.”

  “Mother, really. I couldn’t possibly wear anything like that.”

  “It doesn’t hurt to be adventurous at times, especially in the bedroom department.”

  Camila had never had any kind of discussion with her mother about anything sex-related. Apart from brief instructions on what to do when she started having periods, they had never had intimate mother-daughter talks on the birds and the bees.

  “What makes you think there’s anyone special?” Camila moved away from the lingerie section.

  “You’ve been distracted the whole time we have been here, looking like you would rather be somewhere else.” Her mother patted her arm. “Don’t worry. I’ve convinced your father to book the first flight back to Paris tomorrow. Then you can spend the rest of the weekend with your sweetheart.”

  The relief must have shown on her face as her mother added, “I knew that would please you. So when are we going to meet your mystery man?”

  “It’s all very new,” Camila muttered, moving quickly towards the escalator.

  “Does he at least have a name?”

  “Dani.”

  Her mother closed the gap and stood on the moving step right behind her. “And what does he do?”

  “Mum, please. I’m not having this conversation here.”

  When they reached the ground floor, Camila told her mother she had an errand to run and would see her at Foyles bookstore. They were meeting her father there, then going to a pub for a drink before dinner. She hurried off before her mother could protest.

  As soon as she stepped inside the phone booth, she immediately regretted it; overwhelmed by the
smell of piss and something unidentifiable. Shuddering, she put the money in the slot and dialled Dani’s number. No answer. Camila stumbled out of the red box. Of course, it was pathetic to think Dani would be sitting around at home all weekend.

  As she walked along the street towards the large bookstore, she passed another smaller one. Looking up at the sign, she remembered that Allison had sometimes bought books here. Silver Moon. She walked in and looked around. The shelves on this floor seemed to be mainstream fiction with some feminist offerings. She made her way down the steps to the basement level and found herself in another world. Row upon row of lesbian books lined the shelves. Two other women were already browsing there. They didn’t look around when she came in.

  Camila told herself she would just have a quick look. It wouldn’t do to keep her father from his pint. The only thing he missed about living in England, he said.

  She opened a book and flicked through the pages. Allison had lapped this stuff up, but Camila couldn’t see the point. She had tried reading one of the romances once, but it didn’t grip her. She wondered what Allison’s parents had made of their daughter’s book collection, but then they’d probably thought they were Camila’s. They would have thought it inconceivable that Allison would have any such subversive interests.

  She was about to make a move towards the stairs, when a cover image on one of the lower shelves caught her eye. The rear view of a woman wearing a leather vest and chaps. Quickly reading the blurb on the back, Camila decided this was one she needed to read, for research purposes, of course.

  After paying quickly, she placed her purchase in her large handbag, glad she had brought it out, and hurried up the street to meet her parents.

  †

  Dani checked the knot on her tie in the store window. Her hair was touching her collar. She’d need a haircut soon, but she was sure she could still pass. She carried on down the street threading her way through the crowds of theatre-goers and shoppers laden with bags and parcels.

  Reaching her destination, she mounted the steps of the ornately pillared facade and showed her membership card to the doorman.

  The dark panelling of the rooms always made her feel like she was walking onto a Jeeves and Wooster film set. Leather armchairs were grouped together in threes and fours, spaced out to give members privacy. She walked confidently to the back corner where she knew he would be sitting.

  He lowered his newspaper as she sat in the chair opposite. “Good timing, Dani. The ice hasn’t melted in your drink yet.” He indicated the tumbler of whisky on the table in front of her. His own glass was looking in need of a refresher.

  She didn’t really like whisky, but it was part of the role she was playing.

  “Thanks.” She lifted the glass. “Cheers, Eric.” Taking a sip, she managed not to pull a face. “Hm, that’s not bad.”

  He tilted his own glass towards her. “I know you’re a lightweight in the grown-up-drinks department. That’s a lowland blend of Scotch. Mine’s the real thing.”

  Dani could pick up the peaty scent from where she was sitting. “Laphroaig, I presume. Tastes like a goat’s backside.”

  “And you would know what that’s like!”

  “Ha-ha! Is Carl joining us?”

  “Later.”

  She sat back in her chair. “So you had a call from Gordon.”

  “Yes. He’s a bit naïve, isn’t he?”

  “He’s led a sheltered life.”

  Eric drained the rest of the smoky liquid in his glass and waved it in the air. A waiter appeared immediately and took it away for a refill.

  “His little blackmail attempt was doomed to failure before he even opened his mouth.”

  “Blackmail? We are talking about my soon-to-be ex-business partner?”

  “Yes, indeed. So how long has it been going on? No, wait, let me guess. You sent the roses. That got the rumour mill going with speculation on Camila’s secret admirer. And you made a delivery to the conference. She certainly wasn’t herself at breakfast the next morning.”

  Dani grinned. “Good to know.”

  Eric accepted his refilled glass of whisky and took a sip. “So now that you’re free of that loser, are you going to join us?”

  “Come on, Eric. I thought we would at least get to the main course before you popped the question.”

  “Come on, yourself. You can’t seriously think you can make it on your own.”

  “I won’t be on my own. There’s a good team of people who would come with me.”

  When Eric phoned that afternoon, Dani had been sitting on her bed swishing one of the canes and enjoying a fantasy involving Camila wearing a tight-fitting leather outfit. She had known as soon as he mentioned that Gordon had called him that she was in for a discussion about her future plans. Still, she had agreed to have dinner with them as it gave her the excuse to dress in her favourite dark suit. Knowing they were meeting at Eric’s club, she had chosen a discreet blue-and-grey-striped tie. Close enough to an old-school tie that would help create the right impression.

  “Why don’t you finish that bog water? I take it we’re meeting Carl at the restaurant. I’ll talk about my plans then.”

  Eric swallowed some more of his drink and smiled at her. “Okay. Change of subject. How on earth did you and Camila connect? She’s known as the ice queen in the company.”

  “Music to my ears.”

  “No really. I know she had a long-term relationship with someone but she was never open about it. Of course, I could hardly comment. When the woman died, we tried to persuade her to take time off, but she said she needed to work. And that’s pretty much what she’s done for the last three years. A week or two off at Christmas spent with her parents and that’s it. I can’t deny we haven’t taken advantage of her work ethic. She’s the best negotiator we’ve got, and with new markets opening up all the time, keeping her busy hasn’t been a problem.”

  “So you never met this…” Dani searched her memory. “…Allison.”

  “Was that her name? No. Camila has always kept anything about her private life, well, private.” He knocked back the rest of his whisky. “Come on, better shift or Carl will think we’re not coming.”

  †

  Camila could feel the book burning a hole in her bag. She wanted to be alone to savour the contents. She was sure her mother would have told her father the most important news of the day before she joined them in Foyles. Luckily, he was too focused on getting to the pub and making a choice from the selection of real ales to start on the third degree. She stood at the bar with him, ordering a gin and tonic for herself and a dry white wine for her mother.

  “I don’t know how she can drink that,” he said. “Pubs never stock good wine.”

  “I guess you’re a bit spoiled for choice living in France.”

  “Too right. Now, what do you think, Cammie? This Speckled Hen or the London Pride?”

  Camila hated being called Cammie but she hadn’t been able to break her father of the habit. She looked at the beer taps and remembered that Dani had London Pride in her fridge.

  “Go for the Pride,” she said.

  “Is that what your new man drinks?”

  Thanks, Mum, she thought glumly. “Mostly.”

  “She’s bursting to know more.”

  “She will have to burst. Like I told her, it’s all very new and I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “You’re a strange one, Cammie. I’ve never met a woman who didn’t want to talk about love.”

  “I think it’s a bit early to be talking about love.”

  “Ah, it’s like that, is it? Good for you, girl. It’s time you had some fun in your life.”

  They took their drinks to the table, and Camila managed to steer the conversation to general topics.

  †

  Carl was effusive in his greeting, as always, air-kissing her on both cheeks.

  The maître d’ greeted the Redmonds enthusiastically and personally escorted them to their usual table.


  “Nice suit, Dani,” Carl said, taking the seat across from Eric.

  “Thanks.”

  “You still go to Charles.”

  “Absolutely. Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere else.”

  “Same here.”

  Two waiters arrived promptly, one carrying a bottle of champagne, the other with three glass flutes. Carl glanced at the label of the Veuve Clicquot held towards him and nodded. “Excellent, just pour.”

  “Can’t beat the old widow.” Eric gave Dani a sly wink.

  “Indeed.” She didn’t rise to the bait and accepted the glass Carl handed to her. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”

  “He has some redeeming features.”

  “Keep it clean, you two.”

  They studied their menus in silence for a few minutes. Eric put his down quickly.

  “I know what I’m having.”

  “So do I,” Carl commented acidly. “You always have the same thing. The chef’s probably preparing it now.”

  †

  They were finishing their main courses, deep in conversation about the royal family and whether or not toe-sucking would catch on as an erotic experience, when Eric suddenly said, “Don’t turn around, Dani. But Camila and her parents have just arrived.”

  “You’re shitting me!”

  “No, I’m not. They’re about three tables away. I don’t think Camila’s spotted us yet.”

  Dani put her knife and fork down carefully.

  “Damn. David’s seen me,” Eric said.

  “You know her parents?”

  “We’ve met a few times.” He smiled and waved. “Do you want me to introduce you?”

  “No way. I’m not going to embarrass Camila here.”

  “Too late. He’s coming over.”