Lessons in Laughing Out Loud (28 page)

The Bentley stopped a few streets away from the office, just a little way up from Portal Run and Bleeding Heart Yard. Willow curled up her toes in her shoes, wondering whether the shop would still be there if she took that wrong turn again, or if it was like a retail version of the Flying Dutchman, appearing out of the mists only once every fifty years or so to accessorize the needy. Everything that had happened to her since she’d slipped on the shoes had to be a coincidence—a little
bit of secondhand satin couldn’t be that much of a catalyst for change—but when they passed the shady little entrance-way to the courtyard behind, Willow knew that at some point she would have to go back, just in case.

As the car slowed to a stop, Willow twisted in her seat to find Chloe chewing on her thumb.

“Can you remember the way to the office I told you from here?” Chloe nodded. “Go and sit in reception and just wait for me. If anyone asks what you’re doing, tell them you’re casting for the next series of
16 and Pregnant
.”

As Chloe was about to exit, India covered the girl’s bitten, ruddy hand with her own. “Thank you for putting up with me,” she said.

Chloe nodded. “It’s been fun, hanging out with a celeb, although no one will ever believe me. Good luck with all the being famous shit.”

India knotted her sad, regretful mouth in an approximation of a smile.

“We’re going to stay friends,” India told Chloe. “I promise you. After the dust has settled, I’ll be in touch to see how you’re doing.”

Chloe studied India’s face for a while before adding, “That would be cool.”

Willow watched anxiously as Chloe dragged herself out of the car and headed in more or less the right direction, wondering what incentive the teenager had for doing as she was told instead of disappearing into the streets of London to spend one more day in blissful denial. She was woefully underdressed for the weather in her leggings and dress, a military jacket that would not fasten jammed onto her shoulders. A sparkly cotton scarf wound several times around her neck was her only nod to the freezing chill in the air.

No, today would not be a good day to choose to run away and never be seen again.

Photographers and press thronged the steps of the office as they pulled up outside, immediately surrounding the car, even before it came to a standstill. Undoing her belt, Willow twisted in her seat as the first flash bounced off the darkened window glass.

“Are you ready?” she asked India, who seemed composed, more comfortable with this moment than with any she had spent in Willow’s flat.

India nodded. “I’m ready. It’s funny, you know, I feel like I’ve been out of the world for the last few days. As if I’ve been totally lifted off of the planet . . .”

“My flat probably does harbor some alien life-forms,” Willow admitted.

“And now I’m back.” Somewhere in the wan, drawn face there was a note of triumph. India took off her glasses for a moment. “Thank you for looking after me. I mean it. That life out there with all the money and glitz and hotels and travel, and sometimes even a spot of acting, is wonderful and distracting and I’m more grateful to Victoria than I realized, to know that it’s all still there, waiting for me. But even so it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like I was at home, even if it was someone else’s. Thank you for looking after me so well.”

“Really, I don’t think I did a very good job at all,” Willow confessed. “I left you alone, foisted Chloe on you and fed you additives and booze.”

“Precisely.” India reached forward and touched her hand. “And it was just what I needed. And now I’m ready to greet my public.”

“David?” Willow turned to the driver, who got out of the car, using some of his hand-to-hand combat skills to discreetly
elbow a couple of journalists out of the way. Used to the press ignoring her while at the same attempting to trample her, Willow got out and opened the door for India.

“How are you, India?” someone called out, as India stepped into the cool air.

“What do you think about Hugh Cranmer now?”

“How does it feel to know you went to bed with a sex addict?”

“Have you got a message for Hugh’s wife?”

Flanked on either side by Willow and David, India kept her head down, her sad mouth perfectly poised, her eyes hidden behind her glasses. She looked the picture of fragile elegance as she mounted the steps up to Victoria’s office, and Willow was not the least bit surprised when the journalist barring her way stepped aside for her and the questions died away into an awestruck silence.

And then, flouting Victoria’s order in a way that only a true star could, India turned and took off her glasses, seeming to look everyone who was there in the eye.

“The last week has been the hardest and most testing of my life, one full of heartbreak and regret. Now I have to pick myself up and get on with my future, just one of the many lives that Hugh Cranmer has trampled on in his selfish pursuit of gratuitous pleasure.”

Turning on her heel, India swept into the building with Willow close behind.

India had played it perfectly and, more than that, had taken that very public moment to let Hugh Cranmer know exactly what she thought of him.

As she hurried after India, Willow was relieved to see Chloe slumped on the leather sofa in reception, her face buried in a magazine.

“David?” Willow caught him as they waited for the lift to
arrive. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a minute to keep an eye on that one, have you? I’m quite keen she doesn’t wander off anywhere. She can be a bit of a handful.”

David’s mustache bristled just as Willow knew it would.

“Willow, I’ve stormed more embassies than you’ve had hot dinners. I’m sure I can keep an eye on a slip of a girl for five minutes.”

Nevertheless Willow wished him a silent good luck.

The champagne cork hit the ceiling in Victoria’s office with a bang.

“You were brilliant, darling, perfect,” Victoria crowed, filling the flutes Willow was holding out for her so quickly that the ice-cold liquid ran down her fingers and over her wrists. “You got the statement that I told you to make spot on, and Hughy will be turning in the metaphorical grave of his career, darling!”

India relieved Willow of one of the glasses, sipping through the several inches of froth.

“After everything I thought we meant to each other, I just thought I should be able to say something to him, and if he won’t return my calls, then what else is a girl to do?” India’s smile was bright, almost obliterating the pain in her eyes.

“I quite agree,” Victoria said, taking the other glass. Willow looked around for a third glass but there was none. “Of course, you have to get through finishing the shoot with the bastard, but it’s fine, the producers want as little of the cheating scumbag as possible in their film, so his part has been heavily cut. They’ve given all his lines to that chap who plays the butler. . . . Anyway, they’ve whittled his time on set down to two days’ shooting, which you can do all in one go and then you can wash him out of your hair forever. But it will have to be with Shinerama shampoo, as you’ve just landed their new campaign, and you’ve also been offered tissues in Japan. It’s fine, they’ll pay you a mint and no one important will see it.”

“Great,” India said, handing her glass to Willow, who after a second of hesitation filled it again and took a sip herself.

“
True Glitz
wants you done and dusted for Thursday’s issue, so Willow, you’re taking her to that hotel in Hertfordshire, the one where all the footballers take their mistresses. You have to be in hair and makeup by one and the journo will interview you whilst you’re getting your slap on.” Victoria took the champagne bottle out of Willow’s hand and, forgetting she had an empty glass, took a swig directly out if it. “Best of all, I’ve got you back into Blakes for this evening, where they are waiting to accommodate your every whim. David will take you back down to Cornwall in the morning. I’m lending him to you until we’ve replaced all your staff.”

India began to say something, but Victoria cut across her. “No, I insist. Besides, it’s fine. I took on this young actor yesterday, terribly keen but needs some extra income until his career takes off, so I’m going to keep him around to do some bits and bobs for me here and there. He’s ever so willing to please, just how I like them.”

“We have to replace all my people?” India asked.

Victoria nodded. “My sources confirmed that that bitchy little PA was the one that leaked it. She had copies of all your texts and e-mails. And I always think if one has to go, it’s best to do a clean sweep—you know what staff are like, always in cahoots, the ungrateful little mice—but never fear, I’ll lend you Willow until I find someone else super for you. And as for that strumpet, she’ll be stuck in Z-list hell for the rest of her natural life. I’ve already got her running around after the latest
Real Housewives
casualty of war.”

“Willow, find me some more champagne, darling. I absolutely have to keep last night’s hangover at bay until at least Sunday.”

Willow took the empty bottle, hesitating as she wondered
how on earth she was going to brook the subject of her accompanying India to the
True Glitz
photo shoot that afternoon.

“Well, go on then, darling, you know my metabolism can only take a maximum of fifteen minutes sober. Chop-chop.”

“Actually, Victoria . . .” Sensing Willow’s anxiety, India stepped in. “I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but is there someone else who could come with me, rather than Willow? Don’t get me wrong, Willow has been wonderful, utterly brilliant. But you know how it is, darling, the last few days have been so intense I could really do with a breath of fresh air and a change of scenery.”

“Bored of Willow? Perfectly fine, can’t say I blame you,” Victoria said, marching to the door. “Lucy! Get in here now!”

India winked at Willow, who mouthed a silent
Thank you.

“There is one thing I want you to do for me, though,” India told Victoria, who slammed the door just as Lucy arrived outside it.

“Anything, my love. Anything at all,” Victoria lied.

“Give Willow the rest of this week off,” India commanded rather than asked. “I think she could do with a change of scenery too. She’s been by my side nonstop for days. She must need a rest.”

“Give Willow even more time off, of course.” Victoria waved her hand like a fairy godmother issuing empty wishes. “Consider it done, darling. I was just about to suggest it myself.”

“Do you promise me?” India pinned her down. Victoria looked affronted.

“Do you doubt the word of the woman who singlehandedly saved your career?”

There was a knock at the door. “Did you want me?” Lucy called uncertainly from the other side.

Victoria opened the door. “What on earth are you doing out there, girl? Come in!”

Lucy appeared in the doorway. “Gosh, sorry. Oh, Willow,
am I pleased to see you. I was just trying to work the copier. I have no idea what all those buttons do. Will you show me? Oh, and I think I might have accidentally permanently deleted your Excel account files. It asked me if I was sure and I went to press cancel and just clicked on ‘OK’ instead! Random, lol!”

“Stop making noise now.” Victoria held up her hand. “You are looking after India on her photo shoot this afternoon. Do not mess it up,” Victoria told Lucy, who squealed most inappropriately. Victoria looked at her the way a cat might eye a particularly irritating mouse. “I said stop making noise. Go, ring ahead and make sure they’ve got all the things that India likes. And as for you”—she turned to Willow—“I suppose you’d better go home.”

Victoria watched impassively as Willow and India hugged. “Good luck,” India whispered in her ear. “I’ll leave it a suitable amount of days and then I’m offering you the job of my PA.”

Willow’s eyes widened but she didn’t say anything as India excused herself and followed an endlessly chattering Lucy to her new and improved future.

“So I’ll be off then,” Willow said to Victoria.

“Are you sure you can’t just put through my expenses before you go, darling? And just book me in somewhere for lunch, oysters for me and Carlos, he gets ravenous, darling, I have to feed him all the time, keep his zinc levels up. And I am still waiting for that champagne?”

“Fine, and then I’m going,” Willow said, pursing her lips.

“Of course you are, darling.” Victoria watched Willow as she picked up the empty glasses by the stem. “What is it about you? You’ve changed.”

“In what way?” Willow asked her, a little impatiently.

“I’ve never seen you actually want to leave work before. I think that for the first time since you’ve worked for me you’ve got someone at home you want to see.”

For a moment Willow was almost taken in by the warm tone, the friendly twinkle of a confidante in Victoria’s eyes. Then she realized it was just Victoria trying to find out if anyone else had known about India being in her flat.

“Me?” Willow shook her head. “Rest assured, Victoria, my life is as empty and as lonely as you like it.”