Life Swap (17 page)

‘Sounds great. Nice to see you. And Vicky,’ he turns to Vicky and touches her lightly on the arm as a shiver goes through her, ‘I’ll call you in an hour.’

‘So…’ Hugh grins at Vicky.

‘Okay,’ Elsa butts in. ‘Can I just say that if you’ve shagged Jamie Donnelly I may have to kill you.’

‘Ah,’ Vicky grimaces. ‘Am I allowed a final dessert?’

‘I knew it!’ Elsa says. ‘God, I am so jealous! Jamie Donnelly! I love him!’

‘What’s going on with you and Jamie Donnelly?’ Hugh grins. ‘Because clearly something is.’

Vicky shrugs and shakes her head. ‘To tell you the truth, I don’t really know. Something did happen but it didn’t seem to lead to anything.’

‘He’s a nice guy,’ Hugh says, ‘but are you concerned about his reputation as a womanizer?’

‘Womanizer? Who? Jamie Donnelly? No! You’re not serious!’ Vicky clutches her heart as if in shock.

‘Okay, okay. Not that it’s any of my business, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

‘I’m a big girl,’ Vicky says. ‘I can take care of myself.’

‘Just as long as you don’t end up either getting married or having a broken heart before we start filming. The whole point of this exercise is that you’re single.’

‘Hang on a minute. I haven’t agreed to do it yet. There’s a hell of a lot to think about. You have to give me some time. Plus we haven’t even found the person we’re going to swap with yet.’

‘What kind of people are on the shortlist?’

‘The names themselves won’t mean anything to you, but there’s Sarah Evans, Sally Lonsdale, Hope Nettleton and, funnily enough, a woman in America called Amber Winslow. I can email details about them to you when I get back to the office.’

‘There’s someone from America? You mean you’d actually go to America to do this? Okay. Well I suppose we could find it in the budget to do that if that’s what you decided, although if we did go ahead with the filming I think we ought to be in on the selection process. How would you feel about that?’

‘Let me speak to Janelle. I know that at the moment she’s most keen on the American woman because she’s obsessed with the show
Desperate Housewives
, and Amber Winslow sounds like she’s a real-life Desperate Housewife. She’s out in the suburbs in an enormous house with a golden retriever, two kids, a four-wheel drive and a husband she never seems to see. Janelle thinks it might be far more interesting to swap with her, but I’m trying to set up some meetings with the women here, and I’ve still got to get in touch with Amber Winslow.’

‘I think your editor may have a point. Real-life Desperate Housewives. That might be television gold. Just let me know as soon as you decide so we can set up a meeting with the swap. Vicky, let me tell you, I’ve got a really good feeling about this.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ Vicky says as the waiter comes back to the table. ‘Because quite frankly I don’t know what in the hell I was thinking.’

Chapter Thirteen

‘That goddamned Amber Winslow thinks she’s better than me,’ hisses Suzy as she finishes pinning her hair up at the back.

‘Well she’s not going to be better than me tonight,’ she says, snapping open the black velvet box on the bathroom counter and smiling as she surveys the diamond necklace she’s wearing for the gala.

It’s not actually hers. Lawrence, her husband, is a jeweller, which means that Suzy not only has the biggest and best jewellery in town, but whenever there is a special occasion she gets to wear jewels the others can only fantasize about. And who has to know she’s only borrowing them? Whenever any of the girls comment on her ‘newest’ ring, or bracelet, or, on this occasion, flower-drop necklace, she just smiles sweetly and gestures over at Lawrence, saying only that she’s the luckiest girl in the whole world.

Tonight, as chairperson of the gala, Suzy is going all out. With her Dolce & Gabbana plunging dress, her strappy Manolos, her diamonds and her beautiful bronzed skin courtesy of the tanning salon yesterday afternoon (she chose the spray, so much healthier although she did have to put up with smelling like a herd of camels until she was able to finally take a shower
this morning), Suzy has no doubt that she will be the belle of the ball.

Whenever Suzy feels threatened, she tells herself that she is better than the others. She is prettier, thinner, and has more money, and up until Amber Winslow moved to town, she was leagues ahead of everyone else. But there’s something about Amber. Amber doesn’t seem to care that Suzy has bigger diamonds or, up until the Winslows built their house, the biggest house in town. And it pissed Suzy off that Amber got that decorating firm first, just because she’s a Winslow.

And just because she’s a Winslow, Amber seems to think she’s special. But Suzy will show her tonight. As she twirls in front of the mirror in her diaphanous backless dress, the carats glittering around her neck and at her ears, Suzy grins to herself. Bring it on, Amber Winslow, she thinks, looking forward to outshining everyone. Bring it on because I’m ready and waiting.

‘You look beautiful.’ Richard turns to look at Amber as she comes down the stairs. He’s sitting with Jared and Gracie as they have supper, both of them behaving like angels given the rare treat of having Daddy home to have supper with them.

‘Mommy, you look like a princess,’ Gracie says, smiling with delight at Amber’s dress.

‘You look sooooo pretty,’ Jared coos.

Even Lavinia comes back into the kitchen to see.

‘Oh my goodness,’ she says, ‘you do look lovely.’

Amber does a little twirl in her champagne dress,
the ostrich feathers at the hem brushing her knees.

‘I have to say I do feel like a princess,’ she grins. ‘All I need is a tiara.’

‘No, a crown,’ Gracie says, climbing down from the table. ‘I’ll give you a crown, Mommy.’ She skips out of the room, and reappears a few moments later bearing a plastic sparkly pink crown. ‘Here, Mommy,’ she says very seriously, as Amber bends down so Gracie can place it carefully on her head.

‘How’s that?’ Amber stands slowly so the children can examine her crown, as Richard smiles at her lovingly.

‘Perfect,’ he says. ‘Now, shall we go?’

‘You really do look beautiful,’ he says again in the car, turning to smile at his lovely wife.

‘You just forget how good I look when I scrub up,’ Amber laughs, but she takes the compliment and allows it to warm her heart. And she does feel beautiful. She didn’t want anything over the top. Knows there will be plenty of mutton dressed as lamb, of women who should have learnt that plunging, backless chiffon in your late thirties and early forties doesn’t do anyone any favours. She knows exactly what people have been buying at Rakers, and is so much happier in her simple, elegant dress, just the feathers adding a dash of exuberance, pretty pearl earrings at her ears, and her hair swept back in a sleek, simple chignon.

*

Suzy is standing at the door greeting everyone as they arrive. She sees Amber and feels the hatred well up. God, would you look at her? Boring old cream dress. Pearl earrings. Ha! Suzy has definitely outdone her.

‘Amber!’ She gives her a warm hug. ‘Look at you! You look beautiful!’

‘Oh so do you,’ Amber lies perfectly. ‘I love your dress.’

‘Dolce,’ Suzy says, her hand rising to play with the diamond necklace, just to make sure Amber notices.

‘Oh yes, I remember you saying. And what a beautiful necklace.’

‘Thank you. I really am the luckiest girl in the world, aren’t I? My husband just spoils me rotten.’

‘God, isn’t she awful?’ Amber says pleadingly to Richard as they walk away.

‘Is she?’ Richard, like most of the husbands, is largely oblivious to the social interactions of the women in Highfield. ‘But she seemed to be so nice to you,’ he says sarcastically, aware this time of the game that has just been played.

‘You know it’s all false,’ Amber says as she smiles at him. ‘But never mind. I’m not going to let her spoil my evening. Oh look! There’re Deborah and Spencer. Come on, let’s go and join them for a drink.’

Given the amount of preparation, the amount of trepidation that has preceded this event, Amber is astonished to find she has a wonderful evening. It is by far the
busiest and most successful gala thus far, and Amber found that a couple of Cosmopolitans were all she needed to ease the stress of such a serious social situation, and now she’s positively having a blast.

She and Richard wander round the tables displaying the silent-auction items, and even Amber has to admit they did a wonderful job. There are Cartier watches on display, diamond earrings, the opportunity to visit the set of
Oprah
, plus have tea after the show with Oprah and Gail.

Amber manages to persuade Richard to write his bid down for a luxury cruise around the Caribbean. The value is $15,000. Richard’s name is the fourth one down, and he writes $12,000, revisiting the table while Amber is in the Ladies room, relieved to see that six more people added their names after him so he’s in the clear.

It seems the entire town of Highfield has turned out for the event – or at least, the people that matter. The women are all checking one another out, seeing who has the best dress, the best jewels, and the men are grouped together over by the bar, catching up on work talk.

And Amber, standing there with a Cosmopolitan in hand, in her quietly elegant clothes, suddenly has an epiphany. As she watches the women jostle one another to have their photograph taken by the Highfield magazine social diary photographer, Amber suddenly realizes how ridiculous this lifestyle is.

She watches the whispers, the glances, the social smiles, and Amber sees how false it is, and as the
photographer comes over to her and asks her to smile, she shakes her head and turns away.

I can’t do this any more, she thinks, as she heads over to Richard in a trance. This isn’t who I am. This isn’t what I want. She looks at Richard, standing awkwardly with a group of men, with them but not with them, not really joining in their conversation, and her heart goes out to him. It isn’t Richard’s scene either. What the hell are we doing? she thinks. Why has it mattered so much to keep up with these ridiculous people, this ridiculous lifestyle?

And all of a sudden Amber wants to be away from this. She wants to be at home, with her children, with her husband. Doesn’t want to have to play this game any longer. Doesn’t care about being queen bee, about doing this so-called charity work.

I want a simpler life, she thinks, as she slides next to Richard and slips her hand into his, smiling up at him as he looks down in surprise. I want to get rid of all this stuff. She leans up and whispers in his ear, ‘Come on, darling, take me home.’

‘I really love you,’ Amber smiles, after they’ve made love and are lying in bed, looking into one another’s eyes.

‘I really love you,’ Richard says, unused to this spontaneous affection from his wife. It’s a Friday night, and Sunday is always their ‘date night’, and far be it from him to presume that he may be getting his oats at any time other than a Sunday night.

‘No but I
really
love you.’ Amber snuggles into his arms.

‘What’s brought this on?’ Richard pulls back and looks at her suspiciously. ‘Do you have something to tell me?’

‘No, don’t be silly. As if I’d have the time. It’s just that at the gala tonight I suddenly realized how much I love my whole family. I feel like I’ve been so caught up in all the social stuff here, I haven’t been focused on you all, and tonight I suppose I just realized that none of that material stuff matters.’

Richard opens his eyes wide. ‘About time,’ he says. ‘What brought this on?’

Amber shrugs. ‘I guess tonight was just the pinnacle of everything that’s wrong with Highfield. Even though I had a good time, it was partly because I felt detached from everything. For the first time I didn’t feel inadequate, didn’t feel I had to keep up with everyone, and I suppose it made me realize how superficial this all is.’

‘Well we’re always talking about moving to the Berkshires, or Vermont or somewhere. We could, you know,’ Richard says hopefully. ‘We could get a house on the water where the cost of living is way less.’

Amber snorts. ‘And I guess you’d make a living as a fisherman? Oh darling, I know you still have to be within commuting distance of New York, and anyway, this realization doesn’t mean I’m ready to change. Not yet. I just want to pull out of all this constant competition. I don’t care any more. Like having Amberley Jacks do the living room. God, I hate that living room.’

Richard sits up. ‘You’d better be joking, given how much that cost.’

Amber gulps. ‘Oh yes. I don’t hate it. I just meant it wasn’t what I expected, and I see what you mean about how unnecessarily expensive they are. I don’t care about having Amberley Jacks do our house. I’m going to cancel them tomorrow.’

‘I thought you’d cancelled them weeks ago?’

‘Oh yes.’ Amber looks away, thinking fast. ‘Well I left them a message but never heard anything. I’ll just phone and absolutely confirm they understood.’

‘You know, if you were serious about wanting a simpler life, I could find something local. I don’t have to work in the city. I could find a business to run, something small, something that would mean me being at home with the kids.’

‘In a dream world that would be ideal.’ Amber smiles. ‘But we’re still consolidating; we spent so much money on this house. You’re the one who’s always saying we need to start saving rather than spending. We should put together something like a five-year plan, put some money away every year so we can have that as a goal to look forward to.’

‘You’re the one who’s always spending,’ Richard says bitterly.

‘Darling, don’t start a fight now,’ Amber soothes. ‘And I’m much better this month than I was. I’m really trying.’

‘You’re a bit better,’ Richard says dubiously. ‘Not much.’

‘But I will be much better,’ Amber says firmly. ‘I’m going to resign from the League and I swear to you, I won’t need any of those clothes or the jewllery once I resign. I only bought that stuff to keep up with them, and Suzy didn’t even comment on my ring at the last meeting.’

Richard furrows his brow. ‘What ring?’