Lily wasn’t drinking even the prescribed one glass of wine because it made her feel sick, but on the way to Hampstead she insisted they bought a bottle of wine, which Grace would drink while Lily got a vicarious thrill out of watching her.
But first she wanted the guided tour. Grace kept her out of the places that she thought of as Vaughn’s: the basement gym, his office and his bedroom, but Lily had more than enough square footage to keep her happy.
‘Is that a poured resin floor?’ she asked, as they started in the kitchen because interiors shows were her TV crack. ‘You have a La Cornue range!’
Grace hadn’t seen Lily this excited since the Luella Bartley sample sale. Swigging out of the bottle of Pinot Grigio as she showed Lily around, Grace was secretly thrilled that she could finally show off - just a little bit. The last stop was her bedroom, though she didn’t sleep in it so much lately. Lily made a beeline straight for the walk-in wardrobe and reverently stroked the garment bags, murmuring the names of designers under her breath.
She looked at Grace with an awed expression. ‘You’re dating so well, Gracie,’ she breathed, and there wasn’t a hint of censure in her voice now she saw the material benefits of sleeping with a really rich man. And just like that her gaze flickered to the huge bed, though actually Grace and Vaughn had only had sex in here the once. ‘What’s it like?’
‘What’s what like?’ Graced asked archly, though she knew exactly what Lily meant.
‘The doing it! What’s he like in bed?’
Grace contemplated inventing a story about some weird fetish or telling Lily to mind her own business but the truth was that she’d been dying to tell someone. ‘He’s amazing. Seriously. We’ve done two things that I actually thought were illegal and Vaughn always makes sure I get off. Every single time.’
Lily’s eyes were enormous circles of wonder. ‘Really? Because you once said that you couldn’t come unless you got on top and really, really wriggled.’
‘Well, now I do,’ Grace sighed, as she helped Lily to curl up beside her on the bed. ‘I know you think it’s a little weird but we went on a date in New York before all that other stuff and I was dying to sleep with him then, just because of the way he kissed me.’
‘He wasn’t what I expected,’ Lily mused. ‘He’s sort of handsome in a suity way.’
‘I love his suits.’ The combination of lack of sleep and half a bottle of wine was proving fatal. Any second now she’d start telling Lily about how Vaughn always said, ‘Hello, gorgeous,’ to her in the morning. Or how he’d lie on the sofa with his head in her lap and complain if she stopped stroking his hair. Or even how Vaughn would coax an orgasm out of her, when she was sure she couldn’t come, by murmuring absolute filth in her ear. Well, maybe she wouldn’t tell Lily that.
‘You’ve gone bright red,’ Lily noted. She brushed her hands over the covers and Grace could tell she was choosing her words carefully. ‘When I saw you with him, it was odd. You looked like a proper couple.’
Sometimes Grace thought that she and Vaughn did have a proper relationship but it only existed in the space between things said and unsaid. ‘I really like him, Lils,’ Grace whispered because she didn’t have the guts to say it any louder. ‘He’s funny and he looks out for me and no one’s really done that before. And he’s moody as fuck, but I am too so that works out. I never thought I’d be so into him.’
‘Well, he must be into you too, ’cause otherwise he could have just set you up in your own place, instead of letting you move in here,’ Lily said. ‘I mean, you’re really annoying to live with, Gracie. You have that whole clean freak thing going on.’
‘Just because I objected to you leaving plates on the floor for three days in a row doesn’t make me a clean freak,’ Grace snapped automatically, before she took one deep breath and made a vow that she wasn’t going to lose her cool with Lily. Not when they were almost made up. ‘Vaughn has a housekeeper so dirty plates never become an issue. We just rub along really well.’ It was all sounding a little too good to be true but Lily had missed the first few chapters. ‘In the beginning though, not so much. I was really scared of him and the whole thing was so overwhelming, but we had this big
thing
blow up at the beginning of the year and since then Vaughn’s been a sweetheart. Most of the time.’
Lily prodded Grace with her foot. ‘You’re sounding all kinds of smitten, Gracie. You sure you’re not the tiniest bit in love?’
The l-word made Grace flinch. ‘No,’ she said immediately. ‘I’ve told you before, I think love is a load of bollocks. People say they’re in love just because they like shagging each other or they laugh at the same stuff or so they can use it as an excuse to fuck you over.’
‘That is the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard,’ Lily protested, sitting up, which took a lot of effort. ‘And it’s crap, Grace! I love Dan. I do. Even though I’m mad with him right now, all I can think about is that moment when he walks through the front door and he sees me and he gets this smile on his face, like - like I’m there and that’s all he needs. He’s my family as much as my mum and dad are. So, what you’re saying - no. Love
is
real and it’s the whole point of everything.’
Lily put up a good argument but Grace wasn’t convinced at all. Love had been invented so there’d be something to write books and pop songs about. Or it was for people like Lily, but not for people like her.
‘Well, put it this way,’ she said. ‘I’m not the kind of person who’s capable of being in love. There’s something missing from my hard wiring. So, this thing with Vaughn, it makes sense because he’s like that too. It’s the perfect arrangement for people like us.’
‘You wouldn’t know love if it was walking down the Prada runway in a really killer pair of heels.’ Lily stopped rubbing her belly long enough to do air quotes. ‘I just thought there was something “off” about Vaughn.’
‘What do you mean by “off”?’
‘Not sure.’ Lily began rubbing her bump in an anti-clockwise fashion. ‘He was all suave and stuff, but it was like he was trying to play me in this subtle way that I didn’t get, but I still knew I was being played. I can’t really explain it better than that. Did you know that the brain shrinks between three to five per cent during pregnancy?’
Grace seized upon the chance not to have to process or comment on what Lily had just said about Vaughn. He never made a good first impression. Besides, she had the perfect retort oven-ready. ‘Your brain’s shrinking? But how can you tell?’
Too much had happened for Grace and Lily to slot right back to where they’d been before the months of not talking, and maybe their friendship wouldn’t be quite the same again, but Grace knew they were going to be all right because Lily tried to look offended for about a second, before she giggled and whapped Grace over the head with a pillow. Then, because she wanted to be a better friend, Grace persuaded Lily to give Dan a call to come and pick her up.
Which left Grace kicking it solo on a Saturday evening. It was only 8 p.m. and the whole of London was hers for the taking. Grace tapped in the security code so she wasn’t murdered in the night by homicidal burglars and went to bed.
chapter thirty-three
When Grace had first started at
Skirt
, she thought ‘appointments’ was just fancy fashion speak for spending the morning in bed or going home early, which simply wasn’t true. Or nine times out of ten, it wasn’t true. On Monday morning, she spent a happy few hours visiting fashion PRs to look at their new summer accessories. It was hard to think about shooting pages for their summer issues when it was the middle of a very rainy March, Grace thought as she headed back to the office, her head full of the new wooden heels and jewellery adorned with anchors.
The first person she saw as she stepped out of the lift was Lily. Grace smiled because now Lily could smile back and even ask how the rest of Grace’s weekend had been, but Lily was too busy squeaking. Then the two beauty-bots she was with joined in, emitting a pitch that was only audible to dogs.
‘Where were you yesterday?’ Lily finally said in a lower tone. ‘I tried calling.’
‘I was in bed - my phone was in another room,’ Grace said, because Vaughn had got back at midday, just in time for a Sunday lunch of roast beef and all the trimmings. After the digestive process had been complete, Vaughn’s plans for the rest of the day had mostly involved Grace naked in positions that had made her wish she still went to yoga classes.
‘It’s been the most exciting morning ever,’ one of the beauty girls breathed. ‘Posy resigned because she’s got a job at
Vogue
and Kiki had George from Security escort her out of the building.’
‘You’re kidding,’ Grace gasped, because George escorting people from the premises was meant to be a
Skirt
urban myth. ‘Oh shit! I bet Kiki’s going to be in a filthy mood.’
‘Don’t you get what this means? They’re going to have a vacancy for Posy’s job and I think Courtney’s pregnant too,’ Lily whispered fiercely. ‘She had a bag of crisps for breakfast. What more proof do you need?’
They lingered by the big swing doors that led to the
Skirt
office. ‘There’s no way Kiki would give me Posy’s job,’ Grace said morosely. ‘I mean, she’s been OK lately but she’ll probably poach someone from
Vogue
just to pay them back. And she’s always telling me how the fashion assistant on
ELLE
is wonderful and talented and everything that I’m not.’
Lily gave Grace a quick squeeze. ‘You might get to do some of Posy’s shoots while they’re trying to find a replacement. Except, Kiki
is
mad at you,’ she added with a guilty start. ‘Sorry, I forgot to tell you. You really need to be in the same room as your phone.’
‘Why? Why is she mad at me? I haven’t done anything.’ Grace racked her brains for anything she could have done lately to piss Kiki off, apart from simply existing. ‘Was it the Barcelona shoot? She hated it - I knew it! Except I thought it was exactly what she wanted. And it was meant to be Lucie’s shoot, though she spent 24/7 on the phone, and—’
‘No, it’s because you’re all over the papers,’ Lily said obliquely. ‘It was all anyone could talk about until Posy came out of Kiki’s office in tears.’
‘But I’m not! I would know if I was all over the papers. What papers am I all over?’
‘It might have been the
Sunday Express
or the
Mail On Sunday
. That was why Kiki was so mad. She said it wouldn’t have been so bad if it had been the
Observer
or
The Sunday Times
. But it was a nice picture.’
‘There was a
picture
?’ Grace gave a shudder of revulsion. When she and Vaughn had first been outed, Jake on the picture desk had had hours of fun sending jpegs round the office of Grace at various art happenings, which he got sent from the picture agencies every morning, along with photos of actual, genuine celebrities. Grace had threatened to do something with her giant stapler, a couple of bulldog clips and his dick until he’d promised to never do it again. It had been a salient reminder of just how unphotogenic Grace was, as Kiki had been at great pains to point out. ‘Why would anyone want to put a picture of
me
in their paper?’
‘It was one picture of you, lots of pictures of Vaughn,’ Lily supplied helpfully. ‘You never said he’d been married.’
‘I’m going. Now. Can’t talk.’
Back in the office, Grace tore through the Sunday paper until she found the piece in the
Mail On Sunday
, the paper of choice of her grandparents. It was part of a series of articles on businessmen who were weathering the current credit crisis and making hay while the rest of the country had to shop at Lidl. Grace’s eye immediately went to the picture of her and Vaughn in Miami. She was wearing her Marc Jacobs dress and her face was half in profile as she leaned in to hear what Vaughn was saying in her ear. If memory served her right, it had been something disparaging about her purple tights. It could have been worse, Grace decided, as she began to skim through the copy. There wasn’t much to skim through, as according to the reporter,
James Vaughn is notoriously reclusive and has never given an interview or even gone on record about any of his acquisitions or clients
. There was a reference to ‘Vaughn’s lost weekend’ which, according to someone who’d been at Oxford with him, had lasted three years - but nothing about the ex-wife, just a list of Vaughn’s past companions, whom Grace made a mental note to Google later.
Then it got to the good bit:
In recent months, Vaughn, 41, has been seen with Grace Reeves, 23, a London-based fashion editor on
Skirt
magazine. Although much younger than Vaughn’s past girlfriends, Ms Reeves appears to be just as comfortable at a gala ball in New York as a warehouse party in East London. ‘Gracie’s a lovely girl but not the sharpest tool in the box. She’s far more into fashion than art,’ says gallery assistant, Alex Clark-Jones. ‘I once asked her what she thought of Tracey Emin and the only thing she knew about her was that she was friends with Kate Moss
.’