Persuading Annie (29 page)

Ah, poor, poor Sophie. Doomed to a lifetime of being called Sophes. Thank God she had the IQ of a rabbit.

Annie closed down the computer and went to join her father, Davina and Edward for their drink.

22

FOR THEIR FIRST
date, Edward and Annie made a compromise. She chose where they ate, he chose where they drank afterwards.

She chose what they talked about, who won which discussion, where they sat and when they smiled. He chose when they kissed.

Sweet Basil was a small café in the centre of Greenwich Village. The food was good, but not as good as the jazz. While her family enjoyed the splendour of dinner jazz at Café Carlyle in Upper East, Edward and Annie watched as an amazing fourteen-piece jazz band squeezed themselves on to a stage barely big enough for four. Against all the opulence of a pine-clad wall, they burst into life-affirming music and Annie’s world briefly harmonised around her.

She looked over at Edward and found his bright eyes were on her, an affectionate smile on his handsome face. God I’m gorgeous, she realised.

They made their way back to Upper East, where Edward had discovered a tasty bar where the only light they used was candlelight. After half an hour, Annie’s eyes adjusted and
she was able to drink her drink without spilling it. It was the perfect nightcap to a perfect evening. And the alleyway advert hadn’t appeared once. She looked at Edward – or rather his shadow – and found herself hoping that he was the concluding chapter to the Jake saga in her life.

When the taxi dropped Annie off at her apartment, Edward hopped out to see her to the door. They played the private space game – stared at each other for the appropriate nano-seconds and went in for the final kiss. It was almost too perfect.

Half-smiling, Annie closed her eyes and savoured the momentous moment.

And then the alleyway advert started.

Behind her eyelids, as she felt Edward’s lips touch hers, she saw Jake, inches away from her in the dark alleyway.

Bugger.

Twenty minutes later, as she brushed her teeth, looking at her reflection in the mirror, Annie realised that she couldn’t ever imagine Edward losing his cool like she’d seen Jake do countless times. She couldn’t imagine Edward falling for the likes of a twenty-year-old flippertygibbet who would prefer a man who called her Sophes. She couldn’t imagine Edward running out in tears if she ever had to break bad news to him. He was solid, dependable, trustworthy.

Mind you, try as she might, she couldn’t imagine Edward in an alleyway either.

She stared at herself in the mirror.

‘But I can work on it,’ she told her reflection.

* * * * *

‘Thank you for sending me the disk, darling’ said Susannah over the phone. ‘It all looks fine to me.’

‘Good,’ said Annie.

‘I suppose I ought to show it to Jake, but I don’t really see the point.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘My dear, I’ll be honest with you. Jake Mead Associates have until the end of the year to sort Markhams’ out and I don’t think they’re going to make it.’

Annie’s throat clammed up. So! Mastermind Jake Mead had failed them all. They were ruined. It came as something of a surprise to Annie to discover that she’d have preferred him to have proved her wrong than right and actually saved them all. Was this, in fact, her punishment for putting her petty squabble before the family’s need? No probably not. She didn’t believe in Divine Justice. Thank God.

So it was just bad luck that Jake had taken their money and had failed to use it to save them.

‘I’m sorry, my dear, but … we’re losing just as much money as ever. In fact, since Jake Mead has come in, we’re losing more than ever before.’

Annie couldn’t think of anything to say. Well, anything to say that wasn’t offensive.

For once, Susannah felt herself unable to console Annie. For once, she was truly terrified for their future.

‘Please,’ said Annie eventually. ‘Just give this disk to Jake. Who knows? It might be our last chance.’ Susannah sighed down the phone.

‘He
was
our last chance,’ she said finally. ‘But OK. Why not? I’ll give it to Jake.’

* * * * *

Over the next week, when Annie wasn’t thinking of the business, her family’s inevitable bankruptcy, Davina’s next
move on her father, Edward’s next move on her, or Jake in a bloody London alleyway, she spent her time wandering the streets of New York.

The Christmas countdown was in full swing and despite everything, Annie found herself carried away by the exhilarating atmosphere. New York was a city that assailed all her senses. She had forgotten how pungent its aromas were. She’d step out of a building and
wham
! Hot chocolate-roasted peanuts. Madison Avenue – expensive perfume. Central Park – horse dung.

Victoria and Annie’s first shopping trip together was to be their last. While Victoria sighed longingly over some square-toed diamante-strapped, $425 sandals, Annie discovered Madison Avenue Bookshop next door. Victoria found her half an hour later, upstairs, sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Sulka, Jaeger, MaxMara and Joseph, reading Jane Austen.

Victoria had not bought the shoes. This hit Annie hard. They really
were
in trouble.

She looked up at her sister. Victoria was looking mistily out of the window at the exclusive boutiques.

‘Look at that view. It’s beautiful.’ Her voice cracked with pain.

They agreed to meet back at the apartment, and both went their separate ways, hugely relieved to be alone.

Two hours later, a peroxide-blond assistant was showing Victoria a piece of silk that looked like it had been caught in a mangle.

‘This is walking architecture,’ he accentuated. ‘You’d be wearing Art.’

Victoria nodded in awe and tried not to care that she couldn’t buy it.

Then, after a quick bite to eat, when she was safely away from Annie, Victoria kept finding herself in children’s boutiques. And then once inside them, she kept finding herself guided, as if by a supernatural force, to the powder-blue sections – for four to five year olds. And then she kept having to rush out before the tears came. Oh God she missed her boys so much it was a physical ache.

Not long now, she kept telling herself. They’d be back soon – with or without Charles.

And so she wandered round the shops for hours, trying to whip up some enthusiasm for ‘walking art and architecture’, but she just grew wearier and wearier. And the Americans. They were so friendly. All she had to do was open a road map and some stranger would appear by her side offering advice, without a by-your-leave. Didn’t these people repress anything? It was enough to drive one mad.

And did they mean it when they said, ‘Hihowyadoin?’

Was she supposed to smile, answer, ask them how they were doing in return or just ignore them? It was a language she didn’t understand. And the noise. If she heard one more siren, she was going to go mad. She just wanted to be home, with the boys, with Charles, with her family …

Just before her feet and emotions became too painful to bear, she arrived back at the apartment. No one was there. She made herself a big whisky, turned on the television before remembering that every channel was rubbish, went into her room, shut the door, sat on her bed and, to the sound of wailing sirens, howled.

Meanwhile, Annie was busy discovering her own New York.

She sought out silence and there was plenty of it once she knew where to look. If she was feeling spiritual, all she had
to do was turn a sharp right angle away from the buzz of Fifth Avenue and wander inside St Thomas’s Church, to gaze at the altar in wonder. She could hop out of a taxi on 40th Street, plunge herself into the echoing halls of the public library and sit on one of the exquisitely carved wooden seats at one of the exquisitely carved wooden tables and lose herself in words for a day. Or she could stand in any of the many museums and find herself transported to a world ripe with silent meaning.

She spent many day-long outings with Fi hunting for wedding dresses, while keeping an eye out for something that might suit Sophie. But when she was invited to join Fi and Tony on one of their many wedding ring excursions, she was glad it was on the day they chose to try Diamond Row, New York’s Hatton Garden, and not Tiffany’s. She had stood in a shop, looking out at the street, her back to the sound of exaggerated cries from the vendors, and spotted a cat sleeping in the window of Gomez bookshop. The next day she returned and was transported into a world of literary bliss. You just had to know where to look for the silence.

When Edward had any free time from the office, he spent it with Annie. She tried not to notice that it didn’t concern her in the slightest that he had hardly any free time.

* * * * *

Susannah was now in New York and her ever-present joy at Cass and Brutus’s news about the triplets made her uncharacteristically positive about everything – except Markhams’ prospects.

‘I can’t pretend, Annie,’ she said at an informal catch-up meeting over warm mulled wine in the foyer of The Waldorf, ‘I’m really worried.’

Annie had updated her on everything she’d picked up so far and Susannah had taken it all in with a sorry face.

‘How long do you think we’ve got?’ asked Annie, the old terror resurfacing fast. Susannah sighed. ‘Who knows? The consultants have been with us for three months now and we don’t seem to be getting anywhere. We brought them in to save us, but the money that was pouring out of the organisation before they came is now haemorrhaging out at an alarming rate. I simply don’t understand it. All the figures add up, we’re not doing anything different, yet we have more and more money going out.’

They sat in glum silence, watching the happy, wealthy hotel guests buzzing around them.

‘I think we’re going to have to let the consultants go,’ Susannah said finally. ‘First thing in the New Year. We simply can’t afford them. Then we’ll see if we can sell the business, but I won’t pretend we’ll get very much for it in this state. It’s a sorry business, Annie, my dear. A sorry business.’

Annie’s body tensed. Jake would be out of her life again. For good this time.

She stared miserably at her cold mince pie aware that Edward had suddenly become less attractive.

* * * * *

Later that evening, Annie checked her e-mails. Again, one from Joy, one from Marlon. This time she clicked on the one from Joy first.

Hi

How are things there?

You’ll be pleased to hear Marlon is getting better. I take him out twice a week – just to get him out of the house. Oh Annie you should see it – Cynthia took everything. Even the photos of his boys – there are dark shadows all over the walls.

Occasionally he goes into himself and I can’t get through to him – but I make sure that every time we see each other, we spend at least a little time talking about Cynthia. For God’s sake don’t tell him, but I do this for entirely selfish reasons. The faster he gets her out of his system, the faster there’ll be room for me.

It’s odd without the flirting. More real, more serious. More frightening.

Mother’s got haemorrhoids and Carol says hi.

J xxxx

Annie smiled. She clicked on to Marlon’s.

Light of my life!

How’s New York?

I’m feeling a new man. Strictly between you and me, I’d rather be feeling a new woman, but the woman I’d like to be feeling won’t stop bloody talking about Cynthia.

Bloody Samaritan.

I miss the boys.

Love

Marlon

Blimey, thought Annie. Marlon was over Cynthia! Marlon wanted Joy! If only they both knew …

And she could solve it all with a few taps on her keyboard.

What should she do? Tell Marlon that Joy was interested? Tell Joy that Marlon was interested? Or leave well alone and let it happen of its own accord? Should she be in such a position? Should she influence their future? Should she use her inside knowledge to give joy to those she loved? Or should she let them be masters of their own destinies and find out for themselves?

What to do, what to do …

She thought of Susannah and Cass and how they’d interfered with her life, positive that they were doing the right thing. She clicked on the reply icon.

Dear M and J

[she wrote to both of them]

Everything’s fine here. Business going down the pan. Family collapsing round ears. New York lovely.

Love you

Annie

She sat back and sighed heavily.

Why was every communication open to misunderstandings, complications, tangents? Why couldn’t people just say what they meant? Why was it so difficult to be honest? When did we lose our childish honesty that made playgrounds such a heady combination of heaven and hell?

She sat staring into space.

The crude buzz of the intercom interrupted her thoughts. It was Victoria.

‘Are you all right in there?’

Was she all right in there? No, not really. Life was a constant losing battle between meaning and worthlessness, gain and loss, communication and estrangement.

‘Annie? Are you all right?’

‘Yeah. Fine thanks,’ she said before something in Victoria’s tone made her ask, ‘Are you?’

‘No,’ gasped Victoria. ‘I’ve just had some terrible news.’

* * * * *

Annie stood in the kitchen, frowning in disbelief at her sister. Victoria was holding on to the breakfast bar with one hand, her other still on the phone.