Read A Perfect Proposal Online
Authors: Katie Fforde
‘Four, actually, and I’m sorry to seem neurotic but she’s very dear to me. Since my father passed on I’m the only close relation Granny’s got this side of the country.’
‘Well, it’s nice that you care about her. My family seem to think that elderly people are only good for—’ She stopped, aware she shouldn’t reveal her family’s mercenary tendencies in case he thought it was a characteristic they all shared. ‘What I’m trying to say is when my Uncle Eric – great-uncle really – needed someone to look after him for a little while, I was the only one who would go. But we had a lovely time.’
‘Thank you for sharing,’ he said, not sounding at all grateful. ‘Can I have your undertaking that you won’t stay with my grandmother for a prolonged time after the holiday?’
‘You can have my undertaking that I would never, under
any circumstances, do anything to harm her. You’ll have to be satisfied with that.’
There was another pause. Sophie’s fury was abating somewhat; she could see he probably meant well, but obviously had no idea how to get people to do what he wanted without bullying them. She tried to work out how long she would have to stay. Finishing her drink was not obligatory but she took another gulp anyway. The girls at the table behind them had started chatting about handbags but Sophie could tell they were just taking turns to make remarks so the others could overhear what was going on at Luke’s table. This cheered her up a bit. They must be desperately confused as to why Luke was with someone in a ‘so-last-season’ dress who looked completely ungroomed. Her English accent might explain some of her lack of style, of course. For their benefit, if she had an opportunity, Sophie thought she’d play on her ‘Second-hand Rose’ image to confuse them further. They wouldn’t feel she was a challenge to their pampered beauty, of course, but they would wonder.
‘So tell me about your life in England.’
‘Is this part of the “getting-to-know-me” process?’ Sophie tried to sound normal but she feared her indignation showed.
‘Uh-huh. Have you a “significant other” back home?’
Although it was not in her nature to be suspicious of people, everything Luke said implied he really was checking her out. Normally she would have done everything she could to reassure him, but now she felt she wanted to make him worry more, not less. ‘Not at the moment, no. I’m a free agent, and in New York. How great is that?’
‘I’m sure it’s wonderful if it’s a new experience. More champagne?’ He poured some into her glass, somehow making Sophie feel humiliated. His behaviour was making
her feel like Holly Golightly; if she got up to go to the ‘restroom’ he would offer her money, ‘a little powder-room change’ and expect her to pocket it.
‘Yes please,’ she said, simply because she couldn’t think of an exit strategy.
Luke sat back, visibly relaxing now the awkward part of the conversation was out of the way. ‘So what have you done since you’ve been here?’
Sophie gave him an account of her sightseeing day, leaving out her fear of heights. She was relieved he had moved on to more neutral ground.
‘If you should find yourself in the Village – Greenwich Village – you should try to find Bedford Street. Edna St Vincent Millay lived there. It’s an incredibly narrow house – less than ten foot wide.’
‘Really? How could anyone live in a house so narrow?’
‘With difficulty, I suppose, but a number of famous people lived there. It has a very charming garden behind.’
‘Well, if I’m down that way I’ll have a look.’
‘Do. My grandmother is very fond of Edna St Vincent Millay’s poetry.’
‘I’m not actually familiar with it, but you don’t look as if you approve.’
He smiled. ‘It’s not a matter of approving or disapproving. But I think you might like it, if my grandmother does.’
Sophie put her head on one side. She felt herself relaxing too. ‘Matilda and I get on very well. Maybe it’s because we’re both women, and English …’
Luke seemed a little rueful. ‘Maybe it’s because you’re both a bit wayward.’ As he spoke he smiled in a way that Sophie found intensely charming and she realised a second later that it was because it showed how much he loved his grandmother; he wasn’t intending to charm her.
Sophie laughed. ‘I’ve never thought of myself as wayward.
I’ve always been a good girl, worked hard at school, helped out at home – that sort of thing.’ She didn’t mention Uncle Eric again. There was sticking up for yourself and there was boasting.
‘But when you were doing those things, didn’t you ever find yourself getting a bit distracted?’
She thought about this and remembered rushing through homework in the cloakroom just before the lesson, because she’d spent her evening study time finishing some sewing project. And the time she stuck up the hem of some curtains with Sellotape although she’d promised her mother she’d mend them, because hemming curtains was boring. The Sellotape was still there. ‘Maybe,’ she conceded.
‘My grandmother gets distracted. She starts off doing something fairly sensible and ends up doing something quite different because she got bored. I just think you might encourage her.’
‘I think that’s unlikely,’ said Sophie when she’d had a chance to consider. ‘She’s a very strong character.’ Now she thought about it more she felt it was a very unfair suggestion. He was making assumptions again.
Maybe her expression betrayed her sense of injustice because Luke leant forward a little. ‘Sophie, we seem to have got off on the wrong foot—’
‘Borrowed shoes, bound to do that to you!’
He ignored this flippancy. ‘But I assure you, as my grandmother’s guest you will be treated with every kindness.’
Sophie put on a smile, feeling very uncertain.
‘My grandmother asked me to give you this.’ He produced a piece of paper from his wallet and handed it to her. ‘It’s an itinerary.’
‘Oh my goodness!’
Luke ignored her dismay. ‘And she asked me if you
wanted her to send her driver to New York or if you’d be all right taking the train.’
‘I’ll take the train, of course! I’d never dream of—’ Then, as she didn’t want to overemphasise her point of never doing his grandmother any harm, she changed the subject slightly. ‘Where is your grandmother now?’
‘On her way home, if she’s not home already. Her driver is devoted to her.’
‘I can see why. She’s very loveable.’
Luke didn’t seem impressed by Sophie’s pronouncement. Perhaps he still suspected her, although of what, she couldn’t work out. What harm could she possibly do to Matilda?
She looked at the itinerary. ‘So how long would Matilda like me to stay, do you think? I would really hate to outstay my welcome.’
Luke reverted to being the perfectly brought-up scion of an old and respected dynasty. ‘Well, if you come down on Wednesday, then stay on for the weekend. There’ll be a small family gathering on Wednesday evening – twenty or so – and then there’s the main Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday; that’s mostly family, too, but friends and neighbours come also.’
‘Goodness me! How did you come to have so many relations?’
‘I haven’t that many really, but as you have already discovered, my grandmother’s heart is far bigger than Texas and all sorts of hangers-on count as “family” to her.’
‘Well, that’s me put in my place.’ She couldn’t work Luke out. He seemed to want to ensure she felt welcome at his grandmother’s home but at the same time he remained wary. And yet he could be quite charming when he wanted to be.
‘I didn’t mean to imply—’
‘No, of course you didn’t and I probably got you all wrong.’ She smiled and suddenly found herself gazing into
Luke’s eyes. Their strange colour fascinated her. She wasn’t ‘interested’ in him, but his irises were so weird she wanted to examine them. She pulled herself together. He would almost certainly misinterpret any look longer than normal. ‘Anyway, I’ll be delighted to come and stay with Matilda. And I’ll do my best to help her in any way she needs.’
‘She has staff, you know. You’d be staying as a guest not as a helper.’
Sophie smiled blandly, thinking that ‘helper’ was a politically correct way of saying ‘servant’.
‘What about dinner? I mean – I know it’s short notice but if you’re free …’
She’d jumped when she heard the word and now Luke seemed as surprised as she was. Perhaps he hadn’t intended to extend the evening beyond just a drink.
Sophie and Milly had discussed the prospect of him asking her out to dinner. Sophie had felt it was highly unlikely; Milly had said if he did it would mean he fancied her. If he did he had a funny way of showing it. Now Sophie said, ‘No thank you. My friend’s boyfriend is making us dinner. He’s a chef.’
Luke bowed politely. ‘Then we’ll meet again at my grandmother’s house.’
The morning after an extremely jolly evening at Milly’s boyfriend Franco’s apartment the two girls surveyed the itinerary and all the clothes Sophie had with her. Milly had the day off and was giving her full attention to her friend’s dilemma: how to turn clothes suitable for work as a nanny into something appropriate for a stay at a Connecticut mansion.
‘OK, what have we got,’ said Milly. ‘Three pairs of jeans …’
‘Which are new!’ Sophie was already feeling defensive. ‘I bought them just before I came!’
‘Where from?’
The corner of Sophie’s mouth twitched. ‘A market stall.’
Milly grinned. ‘Fine! If anyone asks just say they’re an English brand.’
Relieved that her entire wardrobe wasn’t going to be trashed, Sophie picked up a skirt for Milly’s inspection.
‘A tiny, sexy skirt,’ said Milly. ‘With the right top, perfectly suitable for a family dinner. You’ll be sitting down after all. People will forget how short it is and Matilda is bound to have generous napkins to cover your thighs with.’
‘Well, that’s a relief, that’s one down.’
‘Not quite, we still need the right top.’ Milly was making a list and writing notes on it.
‘I can see now why you’ve got your high-powered job so young,’ said Sophie.
Milly looked at her in a querying way.
‘Oh, it was something my parents said when we were having the row about me coming over here,’ Sophie explained.
Milly nodded and went back to her list. ‘OK, you have a smart white blouse to go with the skirt. I can see why you’re mistaken for a waitress.’
‘It was only once and the person may have been drunk,’ said Sophie sulkily. ‘Presumably I can’t wear that for the family party?’
‘No. You need something prettier, clingy but not showing much cleavage.’
‘I haven’t got anything like that.’ Sophie felt defensive again, wanting to rebel but knowing her friend had her best interests at heart.
‘I’ve made a note. Now we need to think about the Thanksgiving party.’
‘I want to look really glam!’
‘Not like you, Soph. Why?’
Sophie sighed. ‘It’s Luke …’
‘You do fancy him! Told you!’
‘No, no, no, and no! I don’t! But he makes me feel like Holly Golightly, you know,
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
.’
Milly shook her head. ‘Has it ever occurred to you that you spent far too much time watching your sister’s old DVDs? You seem to use them as a yardstick for life.’
Aware this was true, Sophie felt admonished. Seeing this, Milly went on kindly, ‘People really try to have breakfast at Tiffany’s. They come to New York and expect scrambled eggs and bacon from a jewellery shop.’
Sophie smiled. ‘I know. And the reason I don’t fancy, couldn’t ever possibly fancy him, is because he makes me feel like the poor relation, the hanger-on—’
‘The girl who makes her money from handouts from rich men. I do understand, Soph.’ She paused. ‘So why are you so keen to look glam?’
‘Because I don’t want people thinking – him thinking, I suppose – that his grandmother has lost her marbles and picked up a waif from the street.’
‘You picked
her
up!’ said Milly, feigning indignation. ‘Why are you so stressed? People will love your posh English accent, and if your clothes aren’t exactly the same as theirs they’ll put it down to English eccentricity. But you will look glam, I promise you.’ She scribbled some more notes. ‘What about my dress? Looks far better on you than it ever did on me.’
Sophie’s flapping hands indicated she’d rather wear a black plastic bag. ‘Luke’s seen it twice and noticed! I can’t possibly wear that.’
Milly shook her head. ‘Then you need to get another. You must take one sexy dress.’
‘Why? There’s no occasion for a sexy dress. I want sophistication!’
‘A girl should never travel without a sexy dress. Luke won’t be the only man at these parties. You never know who you might meet. And it should be short.’
‘Why?’
‘You have great legs and short dresses are cheaper than longer ones.’
‘Oh. Couldn’t I just stretch a jumper?’
Milly laughed. ‘Yes, but I’m sure you can do much better than that. You were brilliant about adapting clothes in England. I’m sure you haven’t lost the skill. And if you can’t get a good dress cheap in New York you don’t deserve to be a girl.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘There’s a wonderful shop that sells every sort of trimming.’