True Colours

by Jeanne Whitmee

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake stop emoting, Fran.’ He sighed. ‘It happens to everyone, believe me. It always has and it never did me any harm. Stop stressing about it and let the boy learn to toughen up.’

  I stared at him. ‘I can’t believe you’re taking this so casually. We’re not living in Victorian England.’

  He threw down his paper. ‘Would you rather he took a thrashing from a gang of drugged up council estate yobs?’

  I knew this was another sideways swipe at the fact that his upbringing was more upper class than mine. I chose to ignore it. ‘Does the headmaster know this goes on?’

  ‘Probably,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I daresay it happened to him too when he was a first year. You’ve always spoiled the boy, Fran. That’s why I wanted him to go away to school. If you had your way you’d have him grow up a namby-pamby mummy’s boy.’

  ‘Need I remind you that he is still only nine years old?’

  ‘Exactly. Nine, not five. High time for him to start growing up,’ he said. ‘And while we’re on the subject, there’ll be no visits to zoos and theme parks this half term. I’ve taken some time off and I’ve made a list of things for us to do together, as father and son.’

  ‘So I’m to be excluded?’

  He shrugged. ‘You’re welcome to come along too if you think you’d be interested.’ He picked up his paper again, a sign that the argument was at an end.

  I took a deep breath. ‘While we’re talking, Charles, there’s something I have to tell you.’ I’d rehearsed this conversation in my head over and over during the past few days and I’d decided to use the word “tell” rather than ‘ask’.

  He folded his newspaper and sighed exaggeratedly. ‘What is it now?’

  ‘The job I told you about – the one with the pool company. I’ve decided to take it.’ Before he could react I ploughed on, ‘I’ve come to an arrangement with them about the holidays and half terms. I start training next week after Harry has gone back to school.’ I sat back, immensely relieved to have actually said it at last. When I looked up his face was flushed, his eyes glittering with anger.

  ‘You’ll do nothing of the sort,’ he said. ‘I told you – I won’t have it.’

  ‘And you’re going to stop me how? Lock me in the house, chain me to the railings? It’s a perfectly respectable job, Charles. There is absolutely no reason why I shouldn’t accept the offer and I’ve decided to take it. As I said before, we’ve moved on from the Victorian age.’ Inside my stomach was churning. I knew I would never have been brave enough to stand up to him like this if it were not for sheer necessity. I just had to find the money to pay Sheila Philips somehow.

  I hardly saw anything of Harry after that. Charles took him to football matches, to the Motor Show and the IT exhibition he was personally involved in. Each day he had arranged something totally male-orientated to take him to; and in spite of what he’d said, it was made clear to me that I wasn’t expected to tag along. Today was Thursday. Just two more days before Harry returned to school and, presumably, the torture inflicted by the older boys. I’d hardly seen him, except during our evening meal and at bed time. Today I travelled up to London with them both for my lunch date with the girls and that was the most time I’d spent with my son all week.

  On the subject of my job Charles had been ominously silent. Presumably he was waiting until Harry had gone back to school to think up some way of getting back at me. I pushed it to the back of my mind. Whatever happened I was taking the job Adam had offered me. I had no choice; it was as simple as that.

  After I’d said goodbye to Sophie outside the restaurant I went straight to Adam’s office where he had a contract ready for me to sign. My hand shook as I took the pen he handed me. I was burning bridges. There would be no turning back now.

  He looked at me. ‘Are you all right, Frances?’

  I nodded, trying to laugh off my nervousness. ‘It’s not every day I sign a contract.’

  ‘You are sure about the job?’

  I looked up at him. ‘Yes, of course – but….’

  ‘But! That’s an ominous word. You have reservations?’

  I shook my head. ‘Not reservations.’ I glanced round. ‘A massive favour to ask actually.’

  Reading my thoughts, he stood up. ‘Come on, we’ll go and have a drink, find a quiet corner where you can ask away.’ He smiled, holding out my coat for me. ‘Don’t look so worried, Frances. It can’t be that bad.’

  ‘Can’t it?’ I said under my breath.

  He took me to a club he belonged to in St James’s Place where we found a quiet corner in a large upstairs room overlooking a leafy garden. Settling me in a large leather chair by the window he ordered a pot of tea then sat down opposite me.

  ‘OK. Fire away.’

  ‘You’re going to think this is a terrible cheek.’

  ‘Suppose you let me be the judge of that.’

  I took a deep breath. ‘I need to borrow five hundred pounds.’

  To his credit, he didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘You mean you’d like an advance against your first month’s salary?’

  ‘Yes – I suppose so – please.’ I looked at him. ‘Adam, I know it’s an awful cheek. After all, you hardly know me. I feel I owe you an explanation.’

  ‘You don’t need to explain anything to me.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’ I raised my hand. ‘Please, let me. The money – it’s not for me.’

  I stopped talking as the waiter appeared with our tea. Adam silently poured me a cup. Passing it to me, he said quietly, ‘Take your time, Frances. I can see that you have something you need to get off your chest, but remember, you really don’t need to do this. You can have the advance without question.’

  I took a sip of my tea. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am.’ I put the cup back on its saucer. ‘I’ll be brief. It sounds bizarre and melodramatic but I’m being blackmailed over a serious mistake I made a long time ago,’ I took a deep breath and began, ‘I….’

  He cut in. ‘No, Frances. You don’t have to tell me. You say you’re being blackmailed. There is only one answer to that and it’s not handing money over.’

  ‘I know, but this mistake I made – Charles doesn’t know.’

  ‘And this person is threatening to tell him?’ I nodded. ‘That’s despicable. You know what you should do.’

  ‘Ideally, yes, but I can’t lose my son. If Charles knew he’d never let me see Harry again.’

  He winced. ‘Surely it can’t be that bad.’

  ‘He’d consider it was.’

  ‘So, I take it that it happened before you married him.’

  ‘Yes, when I was sixteen.’

  ‘Sixteen!’ For a moment I thought he was going to laugh. ‘You made a mistake when you were sixteen! Join the club!’ When he saw that he wasn’t reassuring me he went on, ‘Frances, seriously. It can’t have been that bad.’

  ‘It was.’ I couldn’t look at him.

  ‘And this woman has kept her mouth shut about it all these years?’

  ‘She only found out recently. It’s complicated.’

  ‘So how much is she demanding from you?’

  ‘She wanted a thousand a month but she finally agreed on five hundred. I’ve made one payment out of what I had in the bank.’ I opened my bag and took out my personal bank statement. ‘You see – I have nothing left and the next payment is due next week.’

  He glanced at the statement. ‘Your husband keeps you this short?’

  ‘I have to account for every penny I spend. So you see….’

  ‘Does this blackmailer have a reason for doing this to you or is it sheer vindictiveness?’

  ‘She says she’s down on her luck, on the point of being made homeless.’

  ‘And you believe that?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t have much choice, do I?’

  ‘I’m not happy about this, Frances,’ he said. ‘I don’t mean the advance; you’re more than welcome to that. It’s the situation. You realize she won’t be
satisfied with five hundred for long?’

  I nodded. ‘That’s why I need this job, Adam.’

  ‘You’re going to be working to pay a blackmailer?’

  ‘What else can I do?’

  ‘Why don’t you just tell your husband everything? After all, you were little more than a child when this thing happened.’

  ‘He wouldn’t see it that way. And even if I did she’d have her revenge. She’s already threatened to go to the press.’

  He smiled wryly. ‘He’s hardly a celebrity, is he? Just a moderately successful businessman. I doubt if the press would be very interested.’

  ‘She’s talking about the trade papers and, believe me, it would have a huge impact.’

  ‘I still think it’s worth calling her bluff.’

  ‘I’d have to think carefully about that. Meanwhile she’ll be expecting more money – in five days’ time.’

  He looked at me thoughtfully. ‘Frances, are you really sure you want this job? You’re not accepting my offer for the best of reasons.’

  ‘I know it must look as though I’m making a convenience of you,’ I said. ‘But even before this happened I wanted to accept your offer. I promise you I’ll put everything I have into it.’

  ‘I’m sure you mean that.’

  ‘I do; I promise I’m not wasting your time, Adam. I wouldn’t do that.’

  ‘Right then, we’ll get started on your training next week. And as for this wretched woman, let me think about it. I’ll find a way to put a stop to her devious little game.’

  Travelling home on the train I felt relieved. I’d unburdened myself to Sophie and Adam had agreed to giving me an advance on my salary. My future looked a little brighter – until I remembered that Harry was returning to school in two days’ time, back to school and his bullies and there wasn’t a thing I could do to help him. I could hardly bear the thought.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  KATIE

  After I left the girls I went and bought myself a new dress for my dinner date with Drew. It cost a bomb but it was gorgeous and I reckoned that I owed it to myself, and him – especially if we had something to celebrate. I also invested in some straigheners for my hair, then went home and experimented with them. The effect was quite dramatic.

  While I was getting ready I thought about what the girls had said at lunch. It had been a big shock, hearing about Fran’s teenage pregnancy and her birth mother turning up like that, but I told myself that it couldn’t be as bad as she’d painted it. Everything would work out in the end. She’d always been so lucky. As for Sophie, she’d always been used to having things her own way. Maybe it was time for the tables to turn. ‘I wouldn’t mind betting,’ I told myself as I took a final look in the mirror. ‘That next time we meet everything will be fine again.’

  Drew arrived dead on time and I showed him round my flat, which didn’t take long. One bedroom with a tiny en-suite shower, a cupboard sized kitchen and my living room which doubled as a work space. He admired the computerized sewing machine I’m buying on the never-never and he took some time looking at my work in progress on the drawing board I’d set up in the window.

  ‘You mean you live in here too?’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I can’t imagine how cramped you must feel. Where do you relax?’

  I laughed. ‘I don’t have time to relax so that doesn’t really bother me,’ I told him. ‘And as for “cramped” I’ve never lived any other way.’

  He put his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes in a way that I found a bit disturbing. ‘You’re worth so much more than this, Katie. And I’m going to see that you get it. Get your coat. We’re going to hit the town.’

  I gasped when I saw his car. The long champagne coloured Mercedes stood at the kerb and had already attracted a group of local kids. As we emerged from the flat I saw one of them reach forward, a rusty nail clutched in his grubby little fist. I yelled at him.

  ‘Oi! Clear off, you little buggers, before I call the police!’ They scattered immediately.

  Drew grinned at me. ‘Wow! The voice of authority.’

  I blushed. ‘Sorry, but when you live in an area like this you have to show your muscles sometimes otherwise you’d get walked all over.’

  He slipped an arm round my shoulders, the broad grin still on his face. ‘I’m glad to hear it, Katie. It’s dog-eat-dog in our business so I’m relieved that you know how to be feisty.’

  At the restaurant the maître d’ took our coats and ushered us to our table. Drew immediately ordered a bottle of champagne. I looked at him. ‘I didn’t know you were pushing the boat out.’

  ‘I certainly am.’ He smiled. ‘And with good reason. My confidence in your work was well justified. I showed the designs you gave me to the owner of one of the houses I work with. She was impressed and there’ll be a job waiting for you with her if you’re interested.’

  My heart missed a beat. ‘A job – doing what?’

  He laughed. ‘Designing, of course. All the top design houses have a team of junior designers working for them. Your work would bear the house label of course but it’s a step on the ladder towards creating a label of your own.’

  I digested this. ‘I see. What designer would this be?’

  ‘Rosie Sams.’

  I gasped. ‘Oh, Drew! I’ve loved Rosie Sams’s designs for ages,’ I said.

  He nodded. ‘Your style is perfect for her, which is why I showed your drawings to her first.’ He looked at me, his head on one side. ‘So, are you ready to take that first step to fame? I can fix it for you.’

  ‘Shouldn’t I see if I get through the interview first?’

  ‘No. I told you, it’s a done deal. All you need to do is drop by and have a word with Rosie about when you start.’

  I shook my head. ‘I can’t see how I’d fit in the time to work for anyone else at the moment.’

  ‘Katie, you don’t understand. If you took the job at Rosie Sams you’d have to give up your present job. You’d be working full time at her studio and your work would belong exclusively to the Sams label.’

  I stared at him. ‘But Imogene and I have only just got the hire business off the ground,’ I told him. ‘I’m a partner, in the hire side of the business that is. The plan is to open another outlet near to me later if we do well. I’ll be running that on my own and….’

  ‘Have you put money into the business?’ he interrupted.

  ‘No, but my contributions are the designs and the ideas.’

  ‘Which are yours and yours alone. It means that as she doesn’t have to agree to buy you out you can leave whenever you like.’

  I felt as though all the breath had been knocked out of me. ‘I couldn’t let Imogene down like that.’

  ‘She’ll still have the business, won’t she?’

  ‘I suppose….’

  ‘Not to mention the stock that you’ve already supplied?’

  ‘Well, yes….’

  ‘Any legal contract between you?’

  ‘We haven’t got around to that yet,’ I admitted.

  ‘Then you’re home and dry.’ He spread his hands. ‘Nothing to stop you. Just take the plunge; give in your notice and take the first step to fame!’

  But I couldn’t help feeing guilty. ‘It would be an awful shock for her, just when business has started to pick up.’

  ‘No sentiment in business, Katie. This is your future we’re talking about.’ He reached across the table to take my hand. ‘After all, it’s thanks to you that she didn’t go under, isn’t it?’ He looked at me, one well-shaped eyebrow raised. ‘Don’t tell me opening up a hire service in the East End is the height of your ambition.’

  ‘Well, no, but….’

  ‘Well, the offer is there. Just take some time out to think about it.’ The waiter brought the champagne and uncorked it with a loud pop. Drew looked at me as he passed me the first bubbling glass. ‘But don’t spend too much valuable time thinking about it, my darling. There are dozens of other highly qualified, tale
nted young hopefuls out there dreaming of a chance like this.’ He held up his glass to me. ‘Here’s to a dazzling career for Katie MacEvoy. May she fizz and sparkle like this champagne.’

  I touched my glass to his. His offer was irresistibly tempting and I couldn’t help feeling excited as I took my first sip of champagne and gasped as the bubbles danced down my nose.

  But what would Imogene’s reaction be? My heart plummeted at the prospect of breaking the news to her.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SOPHIE

  I travelled home thoughtfully from my lunch date with the girls. Fran’s revelation about her teenage pregnancy had shocked me. How could she have kept it secret, especially from Katie and me? The three of us were so close back then. Poor Fran. She must have been frantic with worry. We may have been close school friends but I’m beginning to realize that we didn’t really know much about one another at all.

  I was grateful that she hadn’t asked me to go into details about my split with Rex. There was very little to report anyhow. Ever since he’d answered the telephone at my parents’ house I’d stopped trying to get in touch with him, or them. They were obviously in agreement about me. That much was clear. They all think I’m spoilt and selfish. But if that’s what I am, my parents have to take the blame for it. As for my marriage, all that remained now, I told myself bleakly, was to wait for the divorce papers to drop on to the mat. Clearly Rex had stopped loving me and maybe in some ways I deserved that.

  Had I stopped loving him?

  I’ve tried hard to come to terms stoically with our break-up but the truth, however much I might try to deny it, is that the more time that goes by, the more I miss him. I can’t help remembering the time when we were first married, the fun and the love we shared. The way we’d laughed at the same stupid jokes and how we loved the same music and films; the secret code we shared when other people were present, certain looks and words that only he and I knew the meaning of.

  I refuse to allow myself to dwell on things like that for too long now, telling myself that in time all that would have passed anyhow. We’d have become an old married couple, bored and jaded with nothing to say to each other any more. The trouble is that somehow I can never quite make myself believe it. It’s when I wake in the small hours that the waste and futility washes over me in a tidal wave of regret. It’s then that the truth stares me in the face, taunting and cruel. Admit it, Sophie. All of this is your fault. You have only yourself to blame.