‘I would be sorry if you did. It would be a waste of your talent and deprive the world of your witty conversation,’ Darcy replies.
I’m not sure how to respond, I can’t believe Darcy has a sense of humour after all, so reply rather lamely, ‘I haven’t been here before but I often dine out with colleagues, you know.’
Darcy looks at me seriously with the hint of a smile playing about his lips. ‘I’m sure you do. You look very at home in such luxurious surroundings.’
I’m even less sure how to take this comment, it sounds as though he’s being sarcastic, but I don’t know him well enough to be certain.
‘So, this is a business lunch, huh?’ I ask, eying up the glasses of champagne.
‘Yes, we do have some work to look through,’ Darcy replies.
‘It’s a tough job but someone’s got to do it.’ I smile sweetly.
‘Actually, it’s a major international deal,’ Darcy retorts.
‘I’m sure. Making money always is.’ There’s an awkward pause. ‘Well, I must get back to my trivial girly chat about fashion and let you boys get on with running the world.’
‘Not all businessmen are chauvinists,’ Darcy remarks.
‘I’m pleased to hear it. So you have no problem with women in the workplace?’
‘Not if they do a good job, no. A businesswoman should dress smartly and act in a professional manner, have a good head for figures, and live in the real world.’ Darcy reels off this list as though he has given the matter a lot of consideration.
Not like me then, I think. ‘A woman like that sounds pretty scary.’
‘Women are all very well in the workplace until they decide to get themselves pregnant, pop off on maternity leave for a year or two, leaving everyone else to pick up the pieces,’ remarks Gregory Mountjoy, sitting on Darcy’s left. Mountjoy is a rather portly old chap who looks as though he would be more at home in a gentleman’s club in the 1920s, along with his views.
‘That’s a bit of a sweeping generalisation, don’t you think?’ I retort. ‘Women can actually bring a whole new dimension to business and anyway, both men and women have maternity leave these days.’
‘I quite agree,’ Darcy replies unexpectedly, ‘as long as they are prepared to put in the hours and work hard, constantly trying to improve themselves. Women have a lot to prove in the workplace.’
I peer at him, wondering what point he’s trying to make. Surely anyone should work hard regardless of gender.
‘Anyway,’ he continues, his eyes still on my face, which is making me blush like a teenager and feel totally self-conscious, ‘you didn’t answer my question as to who you are here with.’
‘Oh, I expect you know Bunty, Miffy, Natasha and Nina, editorial team at Modiste.’
‘In some respects, to a certain extent, yes, but I’m surprised you are acquainted with them,’ he returns so softly I’m not sure I’ve heard him correctly.
‘Sorry?’
‘I meant, I didn’t know you’re part of their crowd,’ Darcy says diffidently, sounding quite unlike his usual self. He looks as though he would like to add something but doesn’t.
‘I am,’ I state proudly and, making my excuses, return to the girls who are all speculating and bickering about the size of Darcy’s fortune, exactly how many shares his mother has in the business, and whose mother knows her best.
They all stop abruptly to quiz me about where I know him from and every detail of our conversation. I’ve suddenly transformed from the least popular kid in school to the top of the cool crew. Unfortunately, I’m not very good at answering their questions as I hardly know what to say.
‘My mother’s been asking that man to her soirees for the past two years and he always says he’s too busy,’ Nina moans, shooting pouty looks in the direction of Darcy’s table.
‘Oh leave him alone, he’s okay.’ Miffy smiles. ‘I’ve known him longer than any of you. He might seem a bit aloof but it’s just his way and probably not surprising considering how many dazzling debutantes throw themselves at him.’
‘I’m not throwing myself at him,’ Nina humphs. ‘I’ve never had to throw myself at any man.’ Her haughty tone makes me want to laugh out loud.
‘He probably just doesn’t need your fortune, sweetie,’ Miffy states. ‘That might have something to do with it.’
Nina looks unconvinced and returns to her restaurant notes.
All I know is that for some reason, Darcy always seems to make me feel totally unsettled; I can’t make him out. I know he dislikes me, so why can’t he leave me alone and stay out of my life?
All too soon, Bunty looks at her Cartier watch, gasps that it’s time for her afternoon Shiatsu massage and we’re swooshed back in the luxurious limo to return, in my case, to the daily drudge of sales forecasts, being told to get stuffed, and my old flat with the washing-up left piled in the sink from the morning.
Chapter 10
It isn’t so bad though. Mel and I have a good laugh the next day about my taste of life in the glamorous world of fashion editing. In spite of Mel’s disregard for the comforts of life, her love of all things to do with clothes means she enjoys a gossip about Modiste and now I have news from the inside. ‘I would do anything for that kind of money,’ she says dreamily. ‘Think of all the amazing causes I could help.’
‘True.’ I ponder. ‘But I would rather be poor if I had to have friends like that. I don’t think they even like each other that much. They are total frenemies.’
‘There’s a saying about that. I think it goes something like, “better a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith”.’
‘Yes, I remember hearing that somewhere, I think it’s Shakespeare or something. Anyway, it’s very true.’
Mel laughs. ‘It’s from the Bible, you saddo.’
‘Oh okay, smartass.’ I’m quite taken aback. I didn’t realise Mel was so clever at this kind of thing.
‘By the way,’ she continues, ‘did you see there was some post for you today?’
‘No.’ I’m surprised, I don’t get much and it’s usually bills.
‘Yes, I was most intrigued, very smart paper.’ She hands me a beautiful thick-quality envelope.
I open it, hoping it’s something exciting. ‘Oh God! It’s an invitation.’
‘An invitation for what? Let me see. Who’s it from?’ Mel tries to snatch the card from my hand.
‘You’re not going to believe it!’
‘Darcy Drummond!’
‘Definitely not, he’d never ever be seen out with me, let alone ask me out.’
‘Nick Palmer-Wright?’
‘No, but it is someone who we met the other night. You’ll never guess so I’ll tell you. It’s Rob Bright, chess champion and the world’s biggest Star Trek fan.’ I continue in spite of Mel’s snort of laughter. ‘Listen to this… Master Robert Aldous (Aldous?! – good grief, what sort of name is that?) Bright, requests the pleasure of the company of Miss Sophie Johnson on a visit to No.1 Royal Crescent, Bath. Please RSVP to R. Bright etc…’