My head is spinning. A conviction? But he seemed so nice. He was so sweet! He got me my Angel bag!

“Apparently he’s reformed.” Gary shrugs. “Become a new person. So he says.”

“A new person?” says Luke dismissively. “Gary, he’s little better than a gangster.”

I nearly drop my glass on the floor. I owe a favor to a gangster?

“ ‘Gangster’s’ a little harsh,” says Gary, amused. “That was years ago.”

“These people never change,” says Luke firmly.

“You’re a hard man, Luke!” Gary says with a laugh. Then he suddenly spots my face. “Becky, are you OK?”

“Fine!” I say shrilly, and take a gulp of water. “Lovely!”

I feel hot and cold all over. This is not going to plan.

This is not going remotely to plan.

My first brilliant networking triumph. The first big client I woo for Brandon Communications. And he turns out to be a motel king with a criminal conviction.

But how was I supposed to know? How? He seemed so charming. He was so well dressed!

And now I’ve said Luke will work for him.

Kind of.

I mean… I didn’t actually promise anything, did I?

Oh God.

I can hear my own voice now, gaily chirping: “My husband would be delighted to do it. In fact, he’ll make it a priority!”

I gaze at my menu, trying to stay calm. OK, it’s obvious what I have to do. I have to tell Luke. Yes. Just confess the whole thing. Milan… the Angel bag… the phone call today… everything. It’s the grown-up option.

I glance at Luke’s taut face as he reads through his paperwork and feel a spasm of fear.

I can’t. I just can’t.

“It’s funny you should have mentioned Nathan Temple, Becky,” says Gary, sipping his water. “I haven’t even told you this yet, Luke, but he’s been in touch with us about doing the PR for some new hotel.”

I stare at Gary’s genial face and feel a huge wave of relief.

Of course they would have made an official approach too. Of course! I’ve been worrying about nothing! Luke will do the job and I’ll be quits with Nathan Temple and everything will be fine…

“I take it we’ll decline,” Gary adds.

Decline? My head jerks up.

“Can you think what it would do to our reputation?” Luke says with a short laugh. “Turn down the job. But tactfully,” he adds with a frown. “If he’s buying the Daily World, we don’t want to offend him.”

“Don’t decline!” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Both men turn to me in surprise, and I force a lighthearted laugh. “I mean… shouldn’t you look at both sides of the argument? Before you make your decision.”

“Becky, as far as I’m concerned there is only one argument,” says Luke crisply. “Nathan Temple is not the sort of character I want associated with my company.” He opens his menu. “We should order.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit judgmental?” I say desperately. “ ‘Cast not the first clout’ and all that.”

“What?” Luke sounds astonished.

“It’s in the Bible!”

Luke gives me a look.

“Do you mean stone?” he says.

“Er…”

Oh. Maybe he’s right. But stone… clout… what’s the difference?

“The point is—” I begin.

“The point is,” Luke interrupts, “Brandon Communications does not want to be associated with someone who has a criminal record. Let alone the rest of it.”

“But that’s so… narrow-minded! Most people have probably got a criminal record these days!” I gesture widely with my arms. “I mean, who sitting round this table does not have some kind of criminal record?”

There’s a short silence.

“Well,” says Luke. “I don’t. Gary doesn’t. You don’t.”

I look at him, taken aback. I suppose he’s right. I don’t.

That’s quite a surprise, actually. I’d always thought of myself as living on the edge.

“Even so—”

“Becky, what’s brought this on, anyway?” Luke frowns. “Why are you so obsessed with Nathan Temple?”

“I’m not obsessed!” I say hurriedly. “I’m just… interested in your clients. And prospective clients.”

“Well, he’s not my client. Nor my prospective client,” says Luke with finality. “And neither will he ever be.”

“Right. Well… that’s pretty clear.”

We all study our menus. At least, the other two are studying their menus. I’m pretending to study mine, while my mind goes skittering round and round.

So I can’t persuade Luke. So I’ll just have to manage the situation. This is what supportive wives do. They deal with problems discreetly and efficiently. I bet Hillary Clinton’s done this kind of thing millions of times.

It’ll be fine. I’ll simply phone up Nathan Temple, thank him for his kind offer, and say that, unfortunately, Luke’s really, really busy—

No. I’ll say he tried to call but no one answered…

“Becky? Are you OK?”

I look up to see both men looking at me with concern. Abruptly I realize I’m tapping the table harder and harder with one of Gary’s pencils.

“I’m great!” I say, and quickly put it down.

OK. I have a plan. What I will do is… I will say that Luke is ill.

Yes. No one can argue with that.



So as soon as we get home and Luke is closeted with Gary in the study, I hurry to the phone in our bedroom. I kick the bedroom door shut and quickly dial the number Nathan Temple gave me. To my huge relief, it clicks straight into voice mail.

And now that I’m listening properly, he sounds exactly like a motel king with a criminal past. Why on earth didn’t I hear it before? I must be deaf or something!

The beep goes, and I jump in fright.

“Hi!” I say, trying to keep my voice light and easy. “This is a message for Mr. Temple. It’s Becky Brandon here. Er… I told my husband all about your hotel, and he thought it sounded fab! But I’m afraid he’s not very well at the moment. So he won’t be able to do the launch after all. Which is a real shame! Anyway, I hope you find someone else! Bye!”

I put the phone down and sink onto the bed, my heart thumping. All this stress is going to give me a heart attack. Maybe I should try some of my yoga exercises from Sri Lanka. I cross my legs and close my eyes.

Breathe in. Breathe out. I am a radiant being of white light. My body is a temple.

Temple. Oh God…

“Becky?” Luke opens the door, and I nearly fall off the bed in terror.

“What? What is it?”

“What’s wrong?” Luke looks alarmed. “Becky, are you hyperventilating?”

“Just doing a bit of relaxing yoga!” I say breathlessly. “I’m fine!”

“Well, I just wanted to tell you”—Luke smiles—“Jess is here.”


Thirteen


“SHE’S COMING UP in the lift,” says Luke, opening the front door. “Who were you on the phone with, by the way?”

“Nobody,” I say quickly. “I was just… er… checking the time.”

Gradually my pulse is slowing down. It’s fine, I tell myself firmly. It’s done. Everything’s sorted.

I can hear the lift moving, down below. Jess is on her way! Quickly I grab my crib sheet and skim it one last time. Border collies… hates avocados… math teacher was called Mr. Lewis…

“Becky, I’d put that away before she arrives,” says Luke, looking amused.

“Oh. Right.”

I stuff it into my pocket and take a few deep breaths to prepare myself.

“Listen, Becky,” says Luke, watching me. “Before she arrives… I sincerely hope you two hit it off this time. But you are keeping a sense of proportion? You don’t have all your hopes pinned on this visit, do you?”

“Really, Luke,” I say kindly. “Don’t you know me better than that?”

Of course I have all my hopes pinned on this visit. Because I know it’s going to work out. Things will be different this time. For a start, we won’t do anything that Jess doesn’t want to do. I’m just going to follow her lead.

And the other thing I must remember is a tip that Luke gave me. He said it was great that I was so friendly toward Jess — but that she’s quite reserved, and maybe great big hugs weren’t her style. So he suggested I should be a bit more collected, just until we know each other better. Which is a fair point.

From the hall comes the noise of the lift getting closer. Why is this lift so slow? And then suddenly the doors are opening to reveal Jess in jeans and a gray T-shirt, holding her rucksack.

“Hi!” I cry, running forward. “Welcome! We can do whatever you want this weekend! Anything! Just name it! You’re the boss!”

Jess doesn’t move. In fact… she seems frozen to the spot.

“Hi, Jess,” Luke says more calmly. “Welcome to London.”

“Come on in!” I spread my arms. “Make yourself at home! No avocados here!”

Jess stares at me uncertainly, then glances at the buttons of the lift, almost like she wants to go back down again.

“Let me take your bag,” says Luke. “How was your conference?”

He ushers Jess into the flat, and she looks around warily.

“It was good, thanks,” she says. “Hi, Becky.”

“Hi! It’s so great you’re here! I’ll show you your room.”

I open the door of the guest room proudly, waiting for her to comment on the cave picture, or Potholing Monthly. But she says nothing, just “Thanks,” as Luke puts down her bag.

“Look,” I point out. “It’s a cave!”

“Er… yes,” says Jess, looking slightly bewildered.

There’s a pause — and I feel a tiny spasm of alarm.

“Let’s all have a drink!” I exclaim. “Let’s open a bottle of champagne!”

“Becky… it’s only four o’clock,” says Luke. “Maybe a cup of tea would be more appropriate?”

“I’d love a cup of tea,” says Jess.