Keep Your Eyes on Me

by Sam Blake

  ‘Lily Power. My mum’s half-Irish. Well, she’s from Boston so really she’s American, but she thinks of herself as Irish – she lives near West Cork now.’

  Vittoria smiled knowingly. ‘Some Americans are more Irish than the Irish. But Power’s an Irish name. We have Power’s Irish Whiskey. You must have lots of Irish blood.’

  ‘Way back my father’s family were Irish too.’

  ‘I can see it in your colouring, the red hair.’ Lily pushed her glasses up her nose and blushed. ‘You’d fit right in, in Dublin, much better than I do.’ Vittoria laughed. ‘I haven’t even picked up the accent.’

  ‘Oh, you have a bit. One of my friends in college is from Ireland and she says “grand” all the time. Whenever we meet I end up saying it too. I pick up accents too easily.’ Lily grinned. ‘You don’t sound very Italian, though.’

  Vittoria pulled her sunglasses off her head and slipped one of the arms into the neck of her sweater, making herself comfortable. ‘I was very young when I left Sicily, and my dance teacher was English, so I’ve spoken both languages since I was able to walk. Sometimes I wished I sounded more like I was from somewhere.’

  The attendant who had spoken to them earlier arrived with two tall slim glasses on a tray, her expression apologetic. ‘I’m afraid the flight’s been delayed by at least an hour. Can I get you something to eat?’

  Chapter 4

  ‘GOOD MORNING, Miss Power, can I take your jacket?’ Lily looked at the flight attendant in surprise. How did she know her name? ‘Please, that would be great, where …?’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll drop it back to you when we land. Come and sit down and make yourself comfortable.’ She took Lily’s denim jacket.

  Lily glanced back at Vittoria, grinning. ‘I’ll see you in New York.’ Her headache had lifted and they’d been chatting easily while they’d been waiting, the excitement of the trip finally bubbling through the horror of the previous twenty-four hours. Vittoria had been lovely, telling her all about New York, making her feel a lot less nervous.

  As the flight attendant showed her to her seat, Lily could feel the champagne she’d drunk had gone to her head. This was such a surreal experience.

  She was in business class.

  She’d shrieked when she’d seen the tickets. Business class? She was working shifts in a coffee shop in St Pancras, had spent the last year living on baked beans and pasta. And now here she was in another world where everything was restful shades of grey, all sleek lines and complimentary champagne.

  Each seat was in its own pod, with space to work or relax. And had its own TV screen. And a menu. And blankets.

  Sitting down, Lily pulled out the thriller she knew she probably wouldn’t be able to concentrate on enough to read and pushed her worn leather satchel under the seat, out of the way. She needed to look like she was doing something. Everyone else seemed to have Samsonite flight cases and leather carry-on luggage. They all looked busy and corporate and important.

  Lily leaned forward to pick up the matt gold menu and surreptitiously looked over her glasses to the other side of the aircraft. Businessmen were settling into their seats, chatting to the flight attendants, obviously familiar with the routine and the pre-flight safety announcements. They all seemed so relaxed. Lily opened the menu, all complicated folds and lists of champagne and cocktails, and tried to focus on it.

  She’d had such a lovely chat to Vittoria, had been distracted from the whole Croxley mess long enough for her to start enjoying the flight experience. But now that she was on her own again, it was all coming back like the cloud that had enveloped Jack, suffocating her and sucking her in. How could she make this right? The only way to get Jack back on track was to get the shop back. What would he do without a job, without a focus, if she was on the other side of the world? He’d gone through terrible depression when he’d been in school, just after their father had died, had lost so much weight with pure anxiety they’d thought he had anorexia. There was no way she could let that happen again.

  She had to find a way to get the shop back.

  She couldn’t let Jack slip into that dark place he’d been in before. As Lily sat back in her seat, she suddenly felt overwhelmed. Perhaps it was the alcohol or lack of sleep, but unless she could get the shop back, how could she take this job and leave Jack behind on his own? It all suddenly felt impossible. Tears began to fall, hot on her cheeks. Lily reached down and wrestled a tissue out of her satchel, lifting her glasses so she could dab her eyes. She blew her nose.

  The captain made an announcement but Lily didn’t hear it. As Jack’s face filled her mind, a deep pain began to form inside her chest.

  She’d been devastated when their grandpa had died, a tragedy made so much worse by having to sell his home, their home, to pay the inheritance tax. The shop was all they had left. Jack was the fourth generation Power to trade in antique prints and books in Great Russell Street. That’s why he’d studied art history, after all; he’d worked beside their grandpa, learning the trade every evening and weekend, since he was fourteen, and he had Rupert Power’s instinct. He loved the shop as much as she did. She closed her eyes, her tears flowing freely.

  And Edward Croxley had taken it and had pushed Jack to right to the edge.

  ‘Oh, Lily, what’s wrong?’ A voice beside her interrupted her thoughts. Startled, Lily turned to find Vittoria sitting in the pod next to her, leaning across the divide, offering her a tissue. ‘Please, take it. I’ve lots. Are you frightened of flying? You should have said.’

  Lily was suddenly conscious of how awful she must look, of her red eyes. No doubt her nose was bright red too. She blushed, which made everything worse. ‘Thank you, I’m sorry … It’s not the flight.’ Lily sniffed and dabbed her nose.

  ‘Do you mind me sitting here? I asked the crew to move me, but if you’d rather have some peace?’

  ‘No, no, please stay. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Please don’t apologise. Really, cry as much as you need to – it’s good for you.’

  Something about the way she said it surprised Lily, made her think that Vittoria had done quite a lot of crying herself and knew exactly what she was talking about. But she looked so perfect. She was married to a pilot, had beautiful clothes – and diamonds – travelled to New York regularly. What could be wrong in her life?

  Leaning over, Vittoria squeezed her arm. ‘If you’d like to talk we’ve got plenty of time.’

  Lily took a deep breath; could she tell Vittoria? ‘Something happened to my brother and I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to take this job. It’s such a huge move.’

  ‘My God, is he OK?’

  Lily grimaced. ‘Physically, he’s fine, but … he’s had some issues in the past. And, well, he’s in a really bad place right now.’

  ‘But you’ve worked so hard. You’re so talented. Could he not go to New York with you?’

  Lily shrugged. She’d told Vittoria all about the job as they’d waited for the flight. She’d wanted to see her designs, had been fascinated by the piece that had won her an award in her final year, making Lily glow with embarrassment.

  ‘Look, whatever’s happened, there must be a solution. Tell me about it – I’m good with problems. I’ve got my fair share too.’

  And a little piece of Lily’s heart broke all over again. What did they say about the compassion of strangers? Vittoria had been so interested in hearing about Lily’s life, about her jewellery and ideas, did she really want to hear her problems as well? All of them? She really didn’t seem like the type of woman who had worries, and if she did, money certainly wasn’t one of them. Lily was sure it was a very long time since she’d had to have beans on toast for dinner, if ever. But there was something about the way Vittoria had said she had problems too – Lily could hear a sadness in her voice.

  Lily hesitated for a moment. Did she really want to talk about her brother’s mental health, about the mess he was in? It was worse than any bad dream.

  But Vittori
a had been so nice to her and there was something cathartic about the thought of telling someone who wasn’t involved. Being here in the totally improbable world of first class, she felt somehow insulated from real life, like it was a safe space to talk to someone she might never meet again, someone who until a few hours ago had been a total stranger.

  But where did she start? Jack had finally come out with the full story last night, had told her about Croxley dropping into the shop looking for a gift and getting chatting to him, discovering they had more mutual friends than he’d realised.

  Apparently.

  Jack had been flattered to be asked to join the game with some of the boys he’d been at school with, boys who’d walked into their fathers’ legal practices or got jobs in banking with their brothers’ friends. Boys who were men now, but who had too much disposable income and no responsibilities; worse, no sense of responsibility.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Lily stopped herself, wondering why she was apologising again. She blew her nose as the lights dimmed for take-off, the travellers on either side of them turning on their reading lights, deepening the darkness surrounding them. Lily was grateful for it, felt somehow cocooned, found it easier to speak. She kept her voice low so only Vittoria could hear. ‘I found out yesterday that my brother lost the entire family business in a poker game. Actually, I think he was swindled out of it by— But, well, anyway, it’s gone.’ She took a deep breath. ‘He loved it, the shop. He … he almost jumped off Waterloo Bridge. He couldn’t tell me.’

  There was a pause; then from across the half-partition, Vittoria’s voice came, full of compassion. ‘Mio Dio, that’s terrible. Is that even legal? How can you bet a business?’

  ‘It’s a shop. Antique books and prints. It’s been in my family for generations – my dad only worked there for a bit: he was a jeweller and had his own shop in Hatton Garden – but my great-grandfather worked in Power’s and first took on the shop. It was just books then and called something different – he was the messenger boy. The original owner had no children.’ Lily took a shaky breath. ‘My grandpa died the year after Jack left uni and Jack took over properly then. He loved it as much as I do.’ Lily could feel the tears again. ‘I just don’t know what to do. I called the family solicitor but he said because Jack had written a promissory note for the shop and its contents, and it was witnessed, it’s binding. The shop was left entirely to him so I didn’t lose any of my student grants. It made sense at the time. The solicitor said we can fight it in court but it could take months and we haven’t got that sort of money.’

  Vittoria sighed, shaking her head, her forehead creased in a frown. ‘That’s just awful.’

  ‘I’ve no idea what to do. Jack needs the shop. It’s part of him.’

  ‘But your parents?’

  ‘My dad’s dead,’ Lily stopped for a moment, her voice a little strangled, ‘and my mum’s useless, to be perfectly honest. When my dad died my mum had a sort of breakdown. She went off to Cork to research her family history for a book and never came back. It’ll never get published – it’s about a thousand pages long at this stage and most of it is nonsense. She’s been doing it for years – we only hear from her every now and again.’

  In the darkness, Lily felt Vittoria’s hand on her arm, but she still couldn’t focus. Losing the shop felt like losing the last piece of their grandfather. He’d been there for them through everything, with his wry sense of humour and incredible knowledge of, well, just everything. When she’d got her place at Central Saint Martins to study jewellery design he’d given her the most beautiful Bonhams catalogue from a 1930s sale – Fabergé and early Chanel. How could this have happened?

  Jack had said it was an unlucky hand. But it wasn’t. That was something Lily was sure of.

  She was also certain Jack would never have even thought of putting the shop into the game unless someone else had suggested it. But what on earth would Edward Croxley want with a shop that was barely breaking even?

  ‘And you’re worried about taking this incredible job in New York?’ Vittoria’s words were soft but brought Lily back to the plane, to the dimmed lights.

  Lily cleared her throat, her emotions swirling with the images in her head. ‘I don’t know if I’ll be able to with Jack in this mess. He’s got no family in London now apart from me, and no job, or anywhere to live. He won’t be able to cope on his own.’

  ‘But it’s the chance of a lifetime. You can’t turn it down. They’ve seen your work; they wouldn’t be inviting you over for a chat if they didn’t really want you.’

  ‘I know. That’s what makes it even worse. I need to find a way to get the shop back. I’ve just no idea how.’ Lily sighed. ‘But I’ve talked far too much, and I never even asked why you’re going to New York.’

  ‘I know this sounds ridiculous, but I need some space so I’m going shopping.’ Vittoria smiled sadly. ‘I had some bad news too. I need to cheer myself up a bit, and I need to get away to think about things, so I’m going to give my husband’s credit card a full workout.’

  ‘God, will he mind?’

  ‘Well, he’s the cause of the bad news, so I don’t think he’s got a leg to stand on, to be perfectly honest.’ Vittoria hesitated as if she was choosing her words carefully. ‘I’ve found out he’s having an affair. I should say another affair.’

  Lily winced. ‘That’s awful. Have you been married long?’

  Vittoria stared ahead of her for a second. ‘Too long, apparently.’ Her voice was rich with sarcasm. ‘You’re, what, about twenty or twenty-two?’

  ‘Twenty-three.’

  ‘I met Marcus when I was eighteen. We were married by the time I was twenty-three. I was madly in love. He’s older than me, quite a bit actually, but he swept me off my feet when we met.’ She sighed, her face full of sadness. ‘And I had the whole world in front of me.’

  ‘But why would he do that? Have an affair, I mean. You’re so beautiful.’ It was out before Lily could think of a better way to put it, and she could feel herself blushing hard. People were always telling her she was too forthright.

  ‘Thank you, you’re lovely. But his current mistress is very beautiful. And she can give him something I can’t.’ Vittoria paused, her face strained as she said the word. ‘Children.’ Her voice was filled with so much emotion, Lily could almost feel it. She didn’t quite know what to say. Vittoria didn’t seem to notice, sighing as she continued. ‘Which is rather ironic, really. I can’t have children because of a car accident. I was in intensive care for months. Marcus was driving too fast …’

  Lily reached over and touched her arm as Vittoria shook her head. She put her finger under her eye, catching a tear ‘Sorry. You’ve got me going now.’

  Lily reached across the divide between the two pods and handed Vittoria her own tissues. ‘Here, have one of these. And tell me what happened. You’ve listened to all my problems.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Vittoria smiled as the tears began to fall faster. ‘I was a dancer, a ballet dancer. The school I was at in London was the Royal Ballet School. But after the accident … well, I couldn’t dance any more. I had to rethink everything, all my plans, my career. I’d wanted to dance since I first heard music.’ Her voice cracked. ‘Part of me wished I’d died. That sounds terrible, I’m sorry …’

  ‘Now you’re apologising. I know the dedication it takes to get into a school like that. If something happened to me and I couldn’t draw any more, I don’t know how I’d cope. I understand completely.’

  Vittoria smiled sadly. ‘I thought my life was over, to be honest, but I had good A levels so I ended up going to university to study psychology, and Marcus proposed. We got married as soon as I left uni.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I’ve been lucky, I suppose. When I graduated we moved into his parents’ house outside Dublin – his mother died just a few years ago. It’s a wonderful house, and it overlooks the most gorgeous bay – some days it’s like being in Sorrento. All the roads around it have Italian names.’ Vittoria cleared her th
roat, a wistful look in her eye. ‘I had everything – a handsome husband, an amazing house, and I set up my own business when we moved to Dublin. It’s been hard work but it’s doing really well …’ The tears began to fall again. ‘I’ve been ignoring his flings for years. He’s away a lot but he always comes home to Dublin. This latest one is different, though – I think he’s going to try and divorce me. His family solicitor made me sign a prenuptial agreement. His family is very wealthy and, well, my father has a restaurant but my parents always struggled. I got a scholarship to go to school in London – I worked so hard.’ She faltered. ‘Anyway, I didn’t see anything wrong with signing when we got married – I thought we were going to be together forever.’ She cleared her throat. ‘If he divorces me I’ll have nothing, only what I came into the marriage with.’

  ‘Is there any way you can get out of it? The prenup I mean?’

  Vittoria shrugged. ‘I’ve checked, and unless he had assets that he failed to disclose prior to signing, there aren’t really any grounds. I went into it with my eyes open. The reasons for a split aren’t relevant.’

  ‘It sounds like you’d be much better off without him.’ Lily put her hand to her mouth. ‘I’m sorry. That sounded rude. I’m too direct.’

  Vittoria smiled. ‘You’re fine – directness is a very good quality. And to answer your question, I would, but I’d have to fight for a settlement. I have my own business but I don’t draw a big salary from it; it’s still growing. I run a clinic specialising in eating disorders and body image. I treat a lot of people from the dance and theatre world.’ Vittoria let out a breath. ‘A lot of my clients come to Dublin from London or LA to be treated because of the privacy I offer. They can’t afford for the media or their management company to find out they might have an issue and my clinic is in a very discreet location. On top of everything else, Marcus’s current girlfriend is an actress – she’s in that world. It would be very easy for a few well-placed rumours to do serious damage to my business if I tried to fight him. I could end up with less than nothing.’ Vittoria took in a ragged breath and the tears began to fall faster. ‘I can’t compete with her. She’s carrying his baby.’