Sheer Abandon (38 page)

“Darling, it’s terribly exciting!” Jilly looked at Kate’s flushed face, looked down at the newspaper with the pictures of Martha again. “And I can see it would be lovely for you, but, well, I really don’t know what your parents would say. I think maybe you should wait until they get back—”

“Oh no!” said Kate, who knew very well what her parents would say. “Granny, it can’t wait. She said herself it was really important we did it this week, that otherwise it wouldn’t be for ages, and anyway, then I’ll be doing my exams, so God—I mean, goodness knows when it could be. They’d probably forget about me altogether. Oh, please, Granny, please say yes! It’s such a brilliant chance for me. And honestly this woman’s so nice, and she wants you to come with me. She says to call her with any questions you’ve got.”

“Oh, well, that’s a little different,” said Jilly. “She’s obviously a nice, responsible woman. Yes, I’ll ring her on Monday, Kate, and have a chat with her.”

“You could ring her today,” said Kate. “She gave me her mobile number, said any time. She needs to know as soon as possible, so she can make the arrangements with the photographer and all that.”

“But it’s Saturday, Kate, surely she won’t want to be bothered with work—”

“Gran, please.
Please
. She can always say she’ll ring you back.”

“Oh, very well,” said Jilly, “but only if you go upstairs immediately afterwards and do at least two hours’ study. And then I’ll test you on it. And don’t call me Gran—you know I don’t like it.”

“Sorry, Granny. And of course I’ll work now. Of
course
,” said Kate earnestly.

Carla Giannini did seem to be an extremely nice woman: clearly interested in and concerned for Kate and her future.

“I really think she has the makings of a model,” she said. “If you like, I’ll send over the test shots we did of her. Apart from her figure, which is wonderful—so rare you get the height with the narrow build—she has an absolutely unique quality, vulnerable and self-confident at the same time. And she has a real flair for wearing the clothes. And Mrs. Bradford—”

“Oh, do please call me Jilly.”

“Thank you. You’re obviously a very young grandmother. Well, I know what you look like, of course, from that photograph in the paper with Kate.”

“That was very unflattering, I’m afraid,” said Jilly.

“Nonsense. You looked great. Anyway, what I was going to say, Jilly, is that the
Sketch
is a very respectable paper. I’ll send you a few back copies of my pages, together with the photographs of Kate,” said Carla.

“That would be kind. But is there really that much hurry? My daughter and her husband are away, as you know, and I would really like to get their permission for this. It’s rather a big decision for me to take and—”

“I can see that of course,” said Carla, instantly sympathetic, “but next Saturday really would be ideal. I have girls booked for the next three or four weeks, so it would mean going forward a long way. When, as I understand it, she’ll be doing her exams. I don’t want to interfere with those in any way, of course.”

“That’s very understanding of you.” Jilly liked her more and more.

“So I would have a problem if I had to pull Kate out now. Would it be possible for you to e-mail your daughter, or speak to her on the phone?”

“I might be able to speak to her, yes.”

“Wonderful. But…” Carla hesitated. “I will need to know almost at once. I’m afraid Kate did lead me to understand that it would be all right.”

“Yes, she shouldn’t have, of course, naughty girl,” said Jilly. “But—”

“I know. Of course I understand. It’s so exciting for her, such a big opportunity—she’s certainly not going to want to risk her parents saying no. But I really can’t see why they should. I mean, I would absolutely insist on your being at the session, and if there’s anything you’re unhappy about, you have only to say—”

“Yes, and I’ll explain all that to my daughter,” said Jilly, “but…” It seemed so dreadful to risk depriving Kate of what was clearly an extraordinary opportunity. “Look, I’ll try and get hold of my daughter in the morning, or even this evening. And I’ll ring you straight back. I mean, I have no reservations at all, I know what your business is like—”

“Yes, Kate told me you had a shop. Which designers do you buy?”

“Oh, the usuals, Nicole Farhi, Gerard Darel, MaxMara. Of course I’m limited by my clientele, naturally. The Guildford housewife isn’t exactly a trendsetter.”

“Of course not. How clever of you to know her so well. And those are all wonderful names. It’s obviously a very good shop. If I possibly can I’ll mention it in the article.”

“What, by name?” said Jilly. She thought of how much she’d been worrying about the shop in her absence, and the difference even a sixteenth-page ad in the Guildford paper made.

“Of course. Otherwise what would be the point? And it all makes for more interesting copy. In fact, it’s a very nice line, her inheriting your fashion sense, as she clearly does.”

“Yes, possibly,” said Jilly. This was not the moment to elaborate on Kate’s origins. “Carla, that would be simply marvellous. Thank you so much. Now I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Jilly. It really does have to be tomorrow at the latest, I’m afraid. It’s such a marvellous thing for a fashion editor to discover a model, you know. So thrilling. And I have a really strong feeling about Kate.”

Carla smiled into the phone as she put it down. It would be all right. Nothing like a bit of time pressure to make people anxious, make them agree to what you wanted. And she had to get this settled before Jocasta returned. She was so oddly defensive about Kate.

Chris Pollock was becoming seriously anxious about Jocasta. It was very unlike her, this silence. He hoped nothing had happened to her. He was beginning to worry more about that than the loss of the Keeble story. Where the fuck was she? And why hadn’t she been in touch? Not even a text message from her since Friday night and now it was Sunday morning.

He rang Nick’s number; a rather slurry voice answered.

“Nick Marshall…”

“Nick. It’s Chris. Any news from Jocasta?”

“Nope. Not a dickey bird.”

“Shit. Where
is
the bloody girl, Nick?”

“I don’t know. I wish I did. Mind you, I’m hardly going to be the first to know. We had a bust-up last week.”

“Oh really? Nothing serious, I hope.”

“Chris, who knows what’s serious to a woman. I certainly don’t. I could ask Josh. Her brother. They’re pretty close. In a funny way.”

“Thanks, Nick. And call me back, yeah?”

Josh was clearly very distracted when Nick rang.

“Got the kids here, Nick. Bit hectic. Just going to take them out to lunch, and—Oh God, hang on, one of them’s just spilt her drink all over the other.”

A lot of wailing and shouting came down the line, with Josh distractedly saying things like “No, Harry, don’t do that” and “Come on, Charlie, stop crying” and “Now play nicely together just for a minute, while Daddy talks on the phone.”

“Sorry, Josh. Bad moment,” Nick said when Josh came back on. “I just wondered if you’d heard from Jocasta over the past couple of days.”

“Jocasta? No. Nothing. Why, where’s she supposed to be?”

“Well, she’s supposed to be in Ireland, doing a story. But there’s been no news from her at all.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t worry,” said Josh, “she’s pretty good at looking after herself. Look, Nick, I’ve got to go. If I do hear anything I’ll let you know, OK?”

“OK,” said Nick, and put the phone down. Where was the bloody girl? Just where was she? And what the hell was she doing?

Jilly didn’t sleep well. She should never have even half agreed to this business with Kate. Not without checking with Helen. She had led Carla to assume it was more or less a certainty. And she knew what Helen would say. That she had left her in charge of the girls, and had trusted her to see they were all right, and that agreeing to Kate being photographed by a national newspaper was not within those terms.

But what harm could it possibly do? The child would look absolutely beautiful and it really was a wonderful opportunity for her; she had studied with great care the pictures that Carla had sent over by messenger, and Kate did look glorious. Clearly, if she wanted to, she could become a professional model. And this was the kind of opportunity that didn’t come along more than once in a lifetime. Just the same…

“Oh dear,” she said aloud.

“Is anything the matter, Granny?” It was Juliet.

“No, darling. Not really. I was just…just thinking about Kate, as a matter of fact.”

“About Kate? What’s she done now? Hey, what are these?” She picked up the pictures of Kate. “God, she looks amazing. Who did them?”

“A professional photographer on a newspaper,” said Jilly. “They are very good, aren’t they?”

“Fantastic!” said Juliet. “Are they going to publish them? How exciting. I wish she’d told me.”

“She hasn’t told anyone,” said Jilly, “not even your parents. And no, they’re not going to publish these, but they want to do some more, as a fashion feature for next week’s paper. But I’m not sure about it.”

“Why ever not?” said Juliet. “It’d be lovely for her. Specially at the moment, when she’s so gutted over Nat and everything.”

“And what do you think your parents would say?”

“Probably try and stop her—they’re parents, aren’t they? But I’m sure once they were published, they’d just be proud. And it would be too late anyway. Oh, hi, Kate, I’ve just seen these pictures. They’re amazing—and Granny says they want to use some more in the paper next week. How exciting!”

“Yeah, well—”

“You must do it, Kate. Granny says you’re worried about Mum and Dad, what they’d say, but like I was saying to Granny, if you did it, and the first they knew you were in the paper, they’d just be proud of you, I’m sure. I mean, you could ask them first, I suppose,” she added, “but they’d only say no. And then the chance’d be gone. Or could you do it later?”

“No,” said Kate quickly. “It’s this week or never, Carla says.”

“Who’s Carla?”

“The fashion editor. She’s really nice, isn’t she, Granny?”

“Charming,” said Jilly. “And she insists I come to the photographic session.”

“Well, it
must
be totally respectable. Not even Dad could complain about that. Oh, just do it, Kate! Honestly, what harm could it do?”

“Absolutely none,” said Jilly. “Good advice, Juliet. Thank you. But of course I must tell them.”

She called the hotel. A sullen French voice told her, with an almost audible shrug, that Mr. and Mrs. Tarrant were out and that she could leave a message if she liked. Jilly left a message and spent the rest of the day assuring herself that if the sensible and extremely mature Juliet thought it was all right, then it probably was.

Helen phoned that evening: they were having a wonderful time, the hotel was nice, the weather was beautiful, and Jim was taking her out to dinner at some very pretty restaurant down the road.

“I just lay by the pool all afternoon and felt so relaxed. And do you know, I’m coughing less already.”

“I’m so glad, darling. You didn’t get my message?”

“No,” said Helen, “they’re not too good about things like that here. Is anything wrong?”

“No, no,” said Jilly hastily. “Of course not. No, I just…well, I’m so glad, darling. That’s wonderful. And you mustn’t worry about us, we’re fine, and Kate is working really hard.”

“I’m not worrying, Mummy, not in the least. I feel marvellous. I’m pleased about Kate, though. Now, they’re both being nice to you, are they?”

“Absolutely sweet. Helen, there’s just—”

“Oh, dear, Jim’s making faces, says we’ll lose our table. Thank you once more. I’ll ring again in a day or two.”

“Yes, but—”

“Mummy, I must go. Sorry. Love to the girls.”

Well, thought Jilly, she’d done her best. It wasn’t her fault if Helen didn’t have time to discuss things with her.

She called Carla Giannini and told her she hadn’t been able to ask her daughter about Kate. “But I do feel quite happy about it myself.”

“Good. I’m so delighted. Now, would you like to come shopping with us tomorrow, picking out the clothes for Kate to wear? You would obviously be a great asset. And you could make sure they were all quite…suitable.”