by Rosa Temple
Eventually, our lips were able to separate but I still had my eyes closed, not believing I’d just done what I’d just done. Oh, Magenta, I kept saying to myself until I realised Anthony was calling my name.
‘Give me two seconds,’ he said. ‘And we can leave.’
The second time of walking onto the street was different; leaving the gallery with Anthony seemed right and exciting. It was as if we’d only just met. We walked into a small bistro without words and were seated by a window. We neither of us wanted to eat but just needed a place to talk. We ordered tea and a dessert to appease the waitress and then talked and talked about Anthony’s art and my year at Shearman until the bistro closed. The funny thing was, neither of us mentioned Inez or Hugo until we were out on the street again. It was as if a spell had been broken the minute we left the bistro.
‘What’s going on between you and Inez, Anthony?’ I asked. ‘I thought you said you’d split up.’
‘Yes, I told you that and it’s true.’
‘But she was here. She said it wasn’t over between you. She was giving me a warning to back off.’
‘Don’t pay any attention to her. It’s over. I promise.’ He looked into my eyes. ‘I’m a totally free agent but … but you’re not. I know what I want but I wish you could tell me how you feel. I mean, I know how I feel about you.’
‘You say that, Anthony …’ I looked up at him ‘… but I want to know exactly what that is.’
We were just outside the bistro door and Anthony stepped in close to me.
‘I love you, Magenta. I want to be with you.’
You’d think that dramatic line alone would be enough to melt me and I’d blurt out my feelings, but somehow I couldn’t say I love you back. Afraid, I suppose, that to admit I’d loved Anthony for all this time might somehow magic away how he felt about me. Hit by a weird sense of insecurity about where all these raw feelings could lead – especially since I’d been burned before – I tried to keep a cool head, not give anything away just yet.
‘You have to understand, Anthony, I need you to really mean it in here.’ I pointed to his heart. ‘That’s what I need. I don’t want to talk about us while I know Inez is lurking in the background.’
‘She’s not lurking, well, not exactly. She’s got some things she needs to collect from the flat. That’s it, nothing more.’
‘I should go,’ I said, turning away. The thought of Inez and Anthony still having unfinished business was enough for me to want to keep my guard up. ‘I’ve got a lot to think about and it’s turned chilly.’ I wrapped my arms around myself.
‘Wait,’ said Anthony. ‘You’re going? Just like that?’
‘I said I needed to think.’ I turned to leave.
‘We’re not going back to ignoring each other at work are we?’ he said.
‘No, please God no. I hated that.’
‘Good. But, Magenta, you should know, I am selling the company. I’ve had meetings and I’ve asked for bids.’
‘You – you have?’ I swallowed hard. All those meetings without me must have been what he was up to. I knew he’d had the solicitor into the office once. I’d assumed that’s what he was doing but I’d purposely not asked, waiting for him to finally come and tell me.
‘After tonight,’ he said, ‘I know what I want to be doing for the rest of my life. My dad and my brother are happy with the decision to sell so I’ll be looking at the bids this week.’
‘I see. So everything is coming to an end.’
‘Except us, Magenta.’ Anthony suddenly grabbed me to him and kissed me again. ‘I don’t want us to be over.’
‘Let’s just see how things play out, shall we? Let’s just cross one bridge at a time and see where it leads.’
‘Will you be speaking to Hugo?’ he said, a dark look in his eyes.
‘Of course I will. But now I’m going home. I need to think.’
‘I wish I could come.’
‘Don’t you think that would just complicate things? Me needing breathing space isn’t just about you – or Hugo. For one thing, in a few weeks’ time I’m going to need a career of my own. I have to be my own person and not tagging along on someone else’s dream.’ I backed away from Anthony and tried to smile before turning and walking away.
About ten or so metres down the street I realised I was going the wrong way for the station but as I turned I could see Anthony, still outside the bistro, watching my dramatic exit. I couldn’t then go back and walk past him.
I got to the corner of the road, turned and ran like mad around a back street so I could get back to the station. On the platform I let out a long slow breath. The tube came along quickly, blowing warm air up the platform. I pulled my shawl closer and closed my eyes, listening to the rolling hiss of the tube doors opening. I got in and sat on the first seat I came to, wondering what the hell I was going to do next.
Chapter 35
It might have been because I was running around in the middle of the night with just a shawl around my shoulders after Anthony’s exhibition, but somehow or other I managed to pick up a cold. A horrible, runny, nasty cold that affected my throat, chest and head and left me with hardly any appetite whatsoever.
I’d called Anthony on the Monday to say I couldn’t come in. He was very concerned and wanted to come over to make sure I was all right. I told him I’d be fine and I’d come in as soon as I could. He wanted me to be well enough to sit in on the talks about selling the company and I said I wouldn’t miss it.
But I didn’t feel better soon. In fact the cold, or chest infection as the doctor diagnosed, dragged on for days. Mother and Father had both come to try to feed me and Anya had been around to try to make me drink brandy.
‘I svear, Madge. It’s the best cure for anything that ails you.’
‘I’m sure it is but I can’t swallow anything. It kills me.’ I was lying on my sofa in my pyjamas, wrapped in a cosy velour blanket. Anya sat on the other side of the room hoping she wouldn’t catch it no matter how many times I told her I wasn’t contagious.
Of course, Anya – not having been around at the weekend – had no idea what had happened between me and Anthony. She’d asked about Hugo and I’d reported that I’d just spoken to him and he was sorry he wasn’t there to rub my chest. Hugo had sounded full of beans and enthusiasm about us, while I, on the other hand, was feeling guilty as sin that I’d kissed another man while Hugo was out of the country. I wondered for a split second if that was why I’d been stricken by this deathly illness.
As I told Anya about kissing Anthony, her eyes bulged from her head. She forgot that she’d put me in quarantine and came to sit by my feet on the sofa.
‘So does that mean the end for Hugo?’ she asked.
‘I’m not sure what it means to be honest with you. I mean I’m feeling terrible about kissing Anthony but at the same time it felt so right.’
‘Things like this alvays happen ven I’m not here to protect you from yourself,’ she said.
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means, vye are you rocking the boat ven you have something going vith Hugo? It sounds to me like Anthony has too much baggage to carry. You don’t need that, Madge, trust me.’
‘But the painting of me, that kiss …’
‘All fluff and smokescreen. The truth of the matter is you and Hugo have something. Don’t you vont to see vere it goes?’
I didn’t know. ‘Look, Anya, I know you said that it’s better the penis you know but Anthony’s was right there between us. It practically introduced itself when we were kissing. Don’t you think it deserves a chance for me to at least make its acquaintance?’
Anya leaned across and slapped my face.
‘Ow! What was that for? I’m not well,’ I bleated.
‘Focus,’ said Anya. ‘This is a bad game you’re playing. Take it from a professional man juggler. If you find the right von – and I mean only von – then hold on to him and never let
him go.’
I looked down at the sodden tissue in my hand. Either could be the ‘von’ for me. I’d drawn up a long list of pros and cons for both of them and each list told me what I already knew, both men were a great catch. The list didn’t tell me which to choose and according to Anya, there must be only ‘von’. I had to make a choice.
I watched television with Anya as well as watching her drink a fair amount of brandy, wondering how, with her slight frame, she managed to stay sober. I was getting tipsy watching her but that might have been something to do with the strong drugs the doctor had me on. I found myself drifting off to sleep and woke a few hours later to find Anya and the brandy gone. But the strange thing was that I miraculously felt a whole lot better.
Maybe it was the brandy aromas, seeping into my pores and being the wonder drink Anya claimed it was. Maybe it was because I’d had the longest undisturbed sleep I’d had all week. Either way, I was more or less back to normal and ready to go in to work the next day.
It was late in the morning on the day I went back to Shearman. The sun was shining and I had a spring in my step. I wasn’t fully recovered but it was close enough. Because it was quite late I thought I’d take my breakfast with me and eat it in the car on the way. I grabbed two slices of toast and put them in a kitchen towel, which I placed on the passenger seat.
I opened the roof of the car, believing that the fresh air would do me good, then I tied a scarf around my hair à la Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday. Because my hair was so big, I sort of looked like an alien. Next came the large dark sunglasses and I was ready to take on the world. I started munching one slice of toast and left the other piece on the passenger seat, not having time to finish it as I drove in.
There was an eerie feeling about the office when I got in. It seemed gloomy and stark and was so cool inside I wondered if I’d walked into the right place. But then I heard Cassandra’s gutsy laugh and knew I was just imagining things. I went to pop my head around the door to let her know I was back but she was in the middle of a telephone conversation. She hadn’t seen me come in because she’d swivelled her chair around, not facing the main door.
‘Handling the bids was easy,’ she was saying. ‘So you can relax, now.’ Cassandra laughed out loud. If she was talking about the bids from the parties interested in buying Shearman then that must be Anthony on the other end of the phone and I should go and check in with him.
Upstairs there was no sign of Anthony so I assumed he must have been calling in from somewhere else. I looked at his online diary from my office but couldn’t see a meeting booked with anyone. Perhaps he was slacking off now that Shearman was on the verge of being sold. Anthony would have to fill me in on the bidding once he was back; I was in no mood to discuss anything with Cassandra.
Oddly, there was still no sign of Anthony at eleven o’clock and I began to worry that something wasn’t right.
I was feeling tired as well as a little shivery and went down to the kitchen to make myself a hot drink. Cassandra was there and we exchanged a frosty hello.
‘I didn’t hear you come in,’ she said.
Before I could answer I let out two big sneezes and started shivering again. Cassandra put her hand over her cup.
‘Are you sure you should be here?’ she asked.
‘I thought I was better,’ I said feeling like I could sneeze again.
‘Well, you look like death warmed up to me. Those aren’t bags under your eyes, they’re the whole Samsonite collection.’
‘Thanks, Cassandra. I can always rely on you to make me feel good about myself.’
‘Don’t mention it.’ She left the kitchen and I decided to call it a day and go home and back to bed.
The next day, I woke and found I’d had a relapse. My head hurt again and my throat was dry and scratchy. I called Anthony to let him know. He was slow to pick up.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I was driving. I had to pull over. How are you?’
‘Not so great. I came in yesterday but I’m struggling. Not as bad I as I was but if you can do without me …’
‘Ah, that’s a shame. I’m on my way to a meeting to sign the company over to the new owner.’
‘You’ve already made a decision?’ I was disappointed to have missed it all.
‘Sorry, I couldn’t wait for you, Magenta. The best bidder was Niles Benson.’
‘What? I can’t believe this. Besides, that was so quick. Weren’t you just talking about the bids with Cassandra yesterday?’
‘No, I was in Wiltshire with my dad yesterday, didn’t Cassandra tell you?’
‘No, she didn’t. So that’s it – Niles won.’
‘We’re all winners, really, but listen, I have to go. We’ve got lots to talk about, haven’t we?’
I nodded instead of speaking.
‘I won’t have my phone on during the meeting at the solicitor’s,’ Anthony continued. ‘I’ll call you to let you know how it went.’ And then Anthony was gone.
The conversation and the chain of events baffled me; until, bang, everything fell into place at once. Cassandra could only have been talking about the bids for the company to one other person if not Anthony. She’d talked about ‘handling the bids’ on the phone and now I realised she must have meant she tipped off the winner of the best bid. Niles Benson. I began to fume in my sick bed. Niles Benson would be the new owner of Shearman over my dead body – especially if Cassandra was part of the conspiracy. I had to tell Anthony what had gone on. This was insider dealing and against the law. It was my duty to shop Niles and Cassandra.
With some miraculous force I jumped in and out of the shower in a matter of seconds, grabbed the first thing I could from the wardrobe and ran down to the car. Anthony’s solicitor was not too far away from my house. I might be able to save the day if I put my foot down. On the passenger seat was my Audrey Hepburn scarf, covering yesterday’s old toast. On it went and then the large Chanel sunglasses. Sunroof open and off I went. Just as I pulled out a pigeon flapped past my head and into the passenger seat where it stayed, strutting around and pecking at the toast.
‘Shoo,’ I said flapping my arm but the pigeon wasn’t going anywhere. ‘Get lost, you big pile of flying vermin. Get out of my car.’ I was shouting and flapping and almost collided with a taxi driver who beeped so loudly, the pigeon jumped up and began to fly away. Taking this as my cue I closed the roof but the bird had second thoughts and flew back in just as the roof closed shut.
‘What the hell!’ I yelled and clicked the button to reopen the sunroof. ‘Damn it! This is no time to stop working.’
The pigeon was now becoming hysterical and was flying too close to my face for comfort. The windows were still open. I put my head out of mine and screamed for help, still racing my way along to the solicitor’s office. No one came to my aid. Apparently, no one had seen that I was reliving a scene from a Hitchcock movie in my car.
‘Stop!’ I shouted to the bird until I realised that stopping was exactly what I should do. Stop and let it out of the bloody car. I pulled over on to double yellow lines and hoped a traffic camera didn’t snap my licence plate and send me a gigantic fine. I yanked open the passenger door.
‘Out,’ I yelled at the pigeon. It hopped to the edge of the passenger seat, jerked its beak towards me, cooed and flew off. It swooped upwards as if nothing had happened, as if it hadn’t almost been the cause of a fatal pile-up on the Shepherd’s Bush roundabout and as if it didn’t notice the very big police officer who’d got off his motorbike and was striding up to me with purpose.
By now my glasses were half on and half off my face. I took them off and smiled at the policeman as sweetly as I could.
‘I know what you’re going to say before you even say it,’ I said.
‘Oh you do, do you? So go on, tell me.’ He crossed his arms.
‘I wasn’t driving recklessly, even though it looked like it. There was a pigeon; it was after the toast, but I was on my way to sto
p my boss from making the biggest mistake of his life. He doesn’t know it yet but once he finds out he’ll be ecstatic that I managed to save the day. I know, I know you’ll say I should ring him but I know for a fact his phone is off. And, officer, you know what insider dealing is don’t you? Well it’s a real thing and it’s against the law so I was on my way to prevent a crime and although it didn’t look like it I really was trying to stay within the law and do what is going to be the most magnanimous thing I could do for anyone, ever.’ I paused to breathe.
‘Just go,’ the policeman said and walked off.
‘Thank you, officer,’ I called. He waved a hand without turning back. From my rear-view mirror I saw him jump onto his bike. He passed me, shaking his head. My mission to save Anthony from making the biggest mistake of his life was on – again.
My little mishap had caused a delay but I found a parking spot quite easily near the solicitor’s office and rushed inside, demanding to be let into the meeting urgently.
‘And you are …?’ the receptionist said to me. I was by then anti-receptionist and ignored her before walking in on the meeting, unannounced.
‘Magenta.’ Anthony stood up. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’m sorry, Anthony, but this is important.’
‘Um, yes, but so it this meeting. You didn’t have to leave your sick bed. I’ve got it covered.’ He gestured to the papers spread across the solicitor’s desk.
‘Anthony, do you think we could continue?’ Niles Benson’s smarmy voice grated on my nerves for the last time.
‘This man is a crook,’ I said, pointing.
‘I’m what?’ Niles sat back and crossed his long legs. ‘Could we do something about her and just get this wrapped up?’
‘No!’ I leaned both hands on the desk and a pigeon feather fluttered down onto the table. We all watched it land by the solicitor’s coffee cup. ‘Mr Benson had information pertaining to the bids of the other buyers prior to putting in his bid.’ I was staring into the solicitor’s face. His large jowls were jiggling with his head as his eyes darted around at us all. ‘If he was able to put in the best bid because of what he was privy to then surely that’s insider dealing or insider trading or something like that and that’s illegal isn’t it?’
