‘No, it’s my work,’ I say boldly. Miffy looks surprised. ‘I’d like to write, you see. I’ve always wanted to work in Editorial but I started in Sales, hoping I could move across, but now I’m not sure that happens and I’ve got kind of stuck.’
Miffy is still staring at me, her mouth slightly open.
This wasn’t quite how I planned this. ‘I understand if it isn’t your kind of thing, but I’ve got loads of ideas and wondered if you might have a quick look at them when you have time?’
‘Oh right,’ Miffy says tightly. ‘I’ll see what I can do, but it’s a tough gig to get into, you know. Is your CV included?’ I nod. She sees my crestfallen expression. ‘I’ll have a look at them, okay?’ She takes my folder and shoves it on top of the pile of magazines on the corner of her desk, where no doubt they will stay for some time untouched, I think cynically.
Just then the phone on her desk rings. ‘Excuse me a mo. Miffy Pemberton-Smythe,’ she answers in a very posh voice. ‘Hi, how are you? Yes, yes. You can’t be serious!’
I back away towards the door as I feel I’m encroaching on a very private conversation but Miffy motions for me to stay.
Finally she gets off the phone and distractedly pushes her hands through her hair. I look at her uncertainly; she looks pretty sick.
‘Are you okay, Miffy? Can I get you a sweet cup of tea or something?’ I wait for her to answer, she doesn’t seem to be with it at all. ‘If not, something stronger?’
I dash off down to the café, grab an Earl Grey, add loads of sugar and a sweet biscuit for good measure and bring it back up.
Miffy is still sitting staring into space. ‘For God’s sake, I don’t know what to do,’ she says slowly.
I wait, patiently, to see if she wants to talk about it.
‘It’s Nats and Bunty. They’ve been arrested.’
Chapter 33
I feel like everything’s falling apart all around me. It turns out that Natasha and, to a lesser extent, Bunty, were involved in the scam Regency Gaming Nights. Natasha was obviously the money behind the set-up. It all begins to slot into place, that’s why Jessica Palmer-Wright was at Natasha’s house. No wonder she wanted to keep her presence there quiet. What I couldn’t understand is how it was worth the risk, but apparently there’s huge money to be made by the house if the dice are weighted.
‘So, Natasha and Bunty are detained at her Majesty’s pleasure?’ Mark asks when we meet for lunch the next day.
‘Miffy says they’ve been released temporarily on bail, but the trial is at the end of the month. I just don’t understand why Natasha needed to be involved in this sort of stuff when she’s already stinking rich?’
‘The wealthiest people always need more money, darling. You should know that after a trip or two to Harrods.’
I remember the size of Natasha’s huge diamond ring. I guess you do need a lot of money to fund a habit like that.
‘What happened to your best friend, Jessica Palmer-Wright, and your sexy ex-lover Daniel?’ presses Mark, his mouth full of noodles.
‘Oh please! Still nowhere to be found. No-one has any idea where they’ve got to. And that’s the end of that.’
‘Good riddance, I say,’ Mark says blandly, ‘and quite honestly the dating agency wasn’t getting you very far, was it?’
‘No.’ I smile ruefully. ‘It was a pleasant little daydream, the reality was something very different, as it usually is.’
The next few days pass by in a blur of work and not much play. It’s nearing the month’s end once again, so the sales team is under a lot of pressure. Bizarrely though I’m not too worried as I’ve finally realised that maybe this isn’t going to go anywhere. But I’m not giving up hope, if writing is what I want to do.
I’m going to keep trying until someone sees that I might have some talent. I become a hive of industry, writing in every spare minute as I used to do when I was younger and perusing the job ads on the net, eagerly sending off my CV, but as usual the silence is deafening.
‘Why don’t you come home?’ Mum asks on the phone late one evening. ‘Dad and I would love to have you back and you can study for a PGCE in less than a year.’
I come up with my age-old arguments. ‘That’s still a long time. Besides, I don’t want to teach. I think it’s a vocation like nursing, you should really want to do it, for the children’s sake, not because you can’t think of anything else to do.’
‘I couldn’t agree more, but the point is, once you start you’ll probably find you enjoy it. The kids loved you when you helped at my school and you were really quite good, you know.’
‘I’ll think about it, Mum. How’s Chloe?’
‘She’s okay, considering, but still no sign of Kian, he seems to have vanished. Though your dad and I are relieved. Awful man. We’re glad to see the back of him, but he’s left Chloe in a total mess again.’
I haven’t heard any more about the dating agency, everything’s gone quiet. Though I try to put a brave face on it, I feel as though something’s missing. I was so looking forward to more picnics, Regency Balls and seminars – it was a wonderful escape from reality.
The good things to have come out of the agency are still apparent, however. Maria and Charles are engaged, though I’m still not sure anyone has actually mentioned it to Sir Henry. Izzy and Matthew also seem to be a lovely couple and there’s no recognising Izzy these days, although a little quieter than she was, she’s more mature somehow and contented. Matthew’s even persuaded her to go for dinner at her dad and stepmum’s this weekend with him for support. So maybe some happy endings are possible after all, just not my own.
I’m pretty busy this week in any case. I’m helping Mel prepare for her fashion show. Tim’s been a complete star and got her a slot as part of the Scoop exhibition and it’s going to be totally amazing. Next Sunday is the night at the incredible Saatchi Gallery. I just hope we’re going to get the publicity right, but with Tim around it should be pretty impressive.
Today’s been exhausting and I’m pleased to be making my way back down the stairs to escape the endless calls. I’m going through the big revolving doors at the entrance to Modiste when I’m stopped by someone calling my name.
I turn to see Miffy clopping down the stairs after me. ‘Sophie, darling, wait up!’
I stop and turn. ‘Hi, Miffy, everything okay?’
‘Yes, I’m sorry I haven’t got back to you about your work but it’s been crazy without Nats and Bunty.’
‘That’s okay. I’ve been busy too.’
‘Anyway, I just wanted to tell you your work’s great, I like your style. Some of the ideas we’ve already done, but it shows promise. You’ve definitely got something, you should keep going with it.’
‘Really? That’s so kind of you and it means such a lot.’
I feel like dancing around like crazy. Not how I was after my first sale on Modiste Brides. This is different, it’s bigger somehow – this is about me, something I’ve worked hard for and achieved myself, and it feels… amazing, actually. Somewhere inside me, the tiny hope I’ve been carrying that I can do this grows a little brighter, a little stronger. This is the best feeling ever.