The Blackwell Lessons (5 page)

12

In the end, Jen convinces me to wear grey jeans, black riding boots and a navy v-neck cashmere jumper.

‘You don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard,’ she says.

‘You’re sure I look okay?’ I say, examining myself in the mirror. ‘Not
too
informal? I don’t want to look like I don’t care …’

‘Maybe you could do with a little extra something. Just to make you stand out. What about jewellery? What do you have?’

I glance at Marc, thinking of the pearl necklace he bought me. ‘Um … just the stuff you and I bought with my student allowance,’ I say, feeling a blush spread up my cheeks.

‘In here?’ Jen goes to the jewellery drawers in the walk-in wardrobe. She drapes a silver pendant around my neck. ‘Mmm. Bit too casual. Shame you don’t have a diamond one. Oh well. Your engagement ring will just have to do, as far as bling is concerned.’

I turn in front of the mirror. ‘Thanks Jen. You’re a life saver.’

‘Actors! Always so dramatic.’

I laugh. ‘Okay. Maybe not a life saver but you’ve definitely helped me out. Speaking of actors, Leo must be pretty pleased about this movie too. How are things?’

Jen’s eyes glow. ‘He’s decided to buy a place in London. And …’ She looks at the floor.

‘Jen? And what?’

A huge smile grows on Jen’s face. ‘And he’s asked me to live with him!’

We both shriek and hug each other.

‘I knew he would!’ I say.

‘I never knew I could be so happy. Leo is just … he’s such
fun
, you know? I’ve never been with anyone I’ve had so much fun with. Of course, he is staggeringly good looking too. And in the bedroom—’

I hear the crisp rustle of Marc’s newspaper.

‘I think that’s my cue to leave,’ he says.

Jen laughs. ‘I never had you down as a prude, Marc Blackwell.’

‘I have my limits.’

Marc strides out, dropping a kiss on my cheek as he leaves.

‘So things are still going great for the newlyweds?’ Jen asks.

‘Better than great,’ I say. ‘Amazing. Truly, truly amazing. Except …’ I think of Annabel on our wedding day. And the family drama. ‘Oh nothing.’

‘Good luck with this lunch today,’ says Jen. ‘Come see me afterwards. I’ll be round at Leo’s apartment. Making space in his wardrobe.’

‘What’s the time?’

‘Just gone twelve.’

I chew a fingernail. ‘Gone twelve? Marc and I should get going.’

‘Relax,’ says Jen. ‘You’ve got ages.’

‘I know. But … I don’t want to be late.’

13

‘Where’s the restaurant?’ I ask Marc, as the limo drives across London.

‘I’ve already told you. Soho.’

‘But which part of Soho?’

‘Very near here.’

‘
How
near?’

‘Sophia—’

‘Sorry.’

‘Stop twiddling your hair.’

I give a nervous laugh and drop my fingers.

The limo pulls to a stop.

‘See?’ says Marc, checking his watch. ‘We’re here already. And we are exactly forty minutes early. Happy now Mrs Blackwell?’

‘I know, I know. It’s silly to be so early. But I just didn’t want to sit around worrying about being late.’

Marc puts an arm around my shoulder. ‘Lucky for you I have something planned to kill the time.’

Marc leads me down a narrow, cobbled lane, past tiny restaurants and bars.

‘Are we going for a pre-lunch drink or something?’ I say. ‘Because if we are, I’m not sure that would be so wise. I can barely speak as it is, I’m so nervous.’

‘We’re not going for a drink. We’re going here.’

Marc pulls me to a stop by a window.

I see diamond necklaces, silver rings and rose gold bangles, all hanging artfully over tree branches.

The price tags make my eyes water.

‘I heard you and Jen talking earlier,’ says Marc. ‘And I thought maybe you’d like to choose some diamonds.’

‘Marc, I don’t need anything. Really.’

‘You don’t have to
need
something for me to buy it for you.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘No arguments. Jen said your outfit needed diamonds. So diamonds you shall have.’

‘Doesn’t this count?’ I ask, holding up my diamond engagement ring. It sparkles above my slim, silver wedding band.

‘I believe Jen mentioned a necklace. And who am I to go against your fashion guru?’

‘I don’t
need
other jewellery.’

‘One of the reasons I love spoiling you is because you’re so unspoiled. Anything you want in this shop is yours. Come with me.’

We head inside and the door clatters closed behind us.

A forty-something lady with curly red hair sits behind a glass counter. She has a novel in her hand and lowers it when she sees us.

‘Good morning. Actually, it’s afternoon now isn’t it? Welcome, anyway. Have you seen something in the window or are you just browsing?’

‘Everything in the window is beautiful,’ I say. ‘Um. I suppose we’re … I’m looking for something in particular. A necklace. A diamond one. To go with this outfit.’

The lady looks me up and down, then smiles. ‘I have just the thing.’

She goes to a glass wall cabinet and takes out a necklace on a velvet cushion.

It’s a tiny, whisper-thin line of diamonds that sparkles like fire.

‘Of course, if you’d like bigger stones—’

‘No not at all,’ I say. ‘That necklace is perfect. Really beautiful. I love how subtle it is.’

‘Would you like to try it on?’ the lady asks.

‘Yes please.’

‘Perhaps your gentleman could help you.’ She looks up at Marc, then does a double take. ‘Mr Blackwell! Many apologies. I should have recognised you sooner. I usually have a good eye for celebrities.’

‘It’s not a problem,’ says Marc. ‘I prefer it when people don’t recognise me, as a matter of fact. And I’m willing to bet that fairly soon people will be recognising Sophia here before they recognise me.’

‘I doubt that,’ I say.

‘I don’t.’ Marc lifts the diamond necklace from the cushion.

I feel the familiar shiver of desire as his fingers move at the back of my neck. I know Marc feels it too because I hear his breathing quicken.

‘Beautiful,’ says the lady. ‘Absolutely beautiful.’

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, watching the elegant line of diamonds glitter around my collarbone. It really does look lovely.

Marc hands over his visa card. ‘We’ll take it.’

‘Thank you,’ I say softly.

Once Marc has paid for the necklace, he takes my hand and leads me out onto the street.

‘Do you like your necklace?’

‘I love it.’

He leans down and kisses me. The people around us melt away and I feel Marc’s fingers slide into my hair.

I forget where I am and let out a little sigh as our bodies press together.

‘We can still call off lunch,’ Marc whispers. ‘Just say the word.’

‘No,’ I murmur. ‘No we can’t do that.’

‘I’ve known Nadia a long time …’

‘We have to go.’ I extract myself from Marc’s arms and stumble a little on the pavement, still giddy from his touch.

Marc throws me one of his stomach-melting half smiles. ‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure. Now come on, let’s get to the restaurant.’

14

At the restaurant, Marc and I are shown to the bar area.

We sit on stools under legs of cured ham hanging from the ceiling, while a waiter pours us each a small sherry.

‘Nadia’s always late,’ says Marc. ‘She and timekeeping were never good friends.’

I pick up the sherry and look uncertainly at the glass. ‘I’m not sure I should drink this. What if I’m … you know?’

‘Dr Christian said that one drink will be fine.’

‘You’ve been talking to Dr Christian?’

‘Of course. I wanted to know if there were any foods you should avoid today. So I could call the chef and make sure they weren’t on the menu.’

I laugh. ‘Only
you
would consider getting the whole menu changed just for me. So are you telling me to drink?’

‘The doctor said one drink is fine. Whether you drink it is up to you.’

‘Maybe I shouldn’t … what do you think?’

Marc laughs. ‘Now this is something I never imagined.’

‘What?’

‘Me trying
not
to control you. And you throwing it right back in my face. So you’re asking me to tell you what to do now?’ He gives me his quirky smile.

‘I’m not asking you to
tell
me what to do,’ I say. ‘I’m just … thinking out loud.’

I look at the guitars and terracotta plates hanging from the walls. ‘I like this place. Have you been here before?’

‘Many times. Always with Nadia. It’s her favourite. Now. If you’re insisting on having a drink, perhaps we should have some food too. While we’re waiting. You shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.’

‘Agreed. Would you order?’

Marc laughs again. ‘It would be my pleasure to order for you, Mrs Blackwell.’ He calls over the waitress. ‘Olives, roast almonds and calamari please.’

‘What’s calamari?’ I whisper. ‘Is that like fish?’

‘Squid.’

‘Don’t smirk like that! We haven’t all grown up eating in fabulous restaurants.’

‘I haven’t grown up eating in fabulous restaurants. There was a time I didn’t know what calamari was either. In fact, the first time I had it I thought I was eating onion rings.’

‘Where was that?’

‘In Barcelona. Filming
Hope
with Baz Smith. And Nadia – as a matter of fact. I was young, but Baz and the crew treated me like I was a full-grown man. Taking me to bars. Clubs. Drinking. Smoking. Fighting. The full experience.’

Baz Smith. The gangster actor who took Marc under his wing. And threw him into a bare-knuckle boxing match as a young man …

‘Weren’t you scared?’ I ask.

‘Petrified. But I didn’t let on. That’s what men do, in case you hadn’t realised. We hide our fears behind bravado.’

‘So you still get scared now?’

‘I hadn’t been scared in years until I met you. I had nothing to lose before. Now I have everything.’

Our fingers mesh and our eyes meet.

A very cautious waiter sets olives, almonds and calamari on the bar.

Marc doesn’t look at the waiter but nods a thank you.

I’m suddenly very conscious that we’re in a public place. My fingers slip from Marc’s.

‘Something wrong?’

‘I feel a bit self-conscious, that’s all.’

‘Surely you’re used to people staring at you by now.’

‘People aren’t staring at me. They’re staring at you.’

‘They’re staring at both of us. And you need to get used to it. Of course, if you’d prefer to keep displays of affection private I think I can restrain myself.’

‘No … I like you being affectionate. You’re right. I need to get over it.’

Marc nods over my shoulder. ‘Here’s Nadia.’

In the doorway, I see a tiny woman with acres of thick black hair. She wears huge tortoiseshell sunglasses. There are smile lines around her mouth and a stripe of grey hair tucked behind her ear. She’s wearing a white shirt, beige leather jacket and tight blue jeans. For her age – forty-something I think – she looks fantastic.

My heart beats really fast.

Oh my god.

Nadia Malbeck.

Nadia whips off her sunglasses and waves frantically at us, crossing the restaurant in seconds.

‘Marc Blackwell!’ She kisses Marc on both cheeks. ‘After all these years. Still as handsome as ever!’ Her accent is rich and Spanish.

Nadia whirls around to me. ‘And Sophia … what do I call you now? Mrs Blackwell?’ She takes my hands and kisses me on both cheeks too. ‘So good to meet you!’

‘Nice to meet you Nadia.’ I manage a smile.

‘How have you been?’ Marc asks, his posture unchanged on the bar stool.

‘Good, good.’ Nadia beams. ‘Well great actually! And this new movie … wow. It’s going to be terrific. We already have Rita Cabal designing the set. Remember her?’

‘Yes. She’s very good.’

‘And Doug Granger for the score. He is
just
the best. We are so lucky to get him. Okay. Shall we eat?’

15

We’re sat at the best table in the restaurant, right by the window overlooking the street. We get a great view of London people-traffic, but the lace curtain means no one can see us.

Our sherry and   brought over, but I’m too nervous to eat or drink now Nadia is here.

My hands shake a little as I hold the menu. Partly because I’m nervous around Nadia, and partly because I know I’ll sound like an idiot if I try to pronounce these Spanish dishes.

Marc’s hand finds my thigh under the table. ‘How about Nadia does the ordering for us? She has a great knowledge of Spanish food – I’m sure she’ll pick the best dishes.’

I throw Marc a relieved smile. ‘Yes. I think that’s a great idea.’

‘Oh, you want me to order?’ Nadia nods at the menu. ‘Sure! Sophia, what do you like? Chicken? Seafood?’

‘I honestly don’t mind.’

‘Easy going. I like it.’ Nadia calls the waiter over and orders everything in perfect Spanish. Then she and the waiter talk in their native language and end up roaring with laughter.

‘The waiter says don’t eat the specials,’ she laughs. ‘They’re made from everything that didn’t sell over the weekend. So I ordered us grilled bread and tomatoes, paella, garlic prawns, mixed seafood rice, roast chicken, bean and beef stew, calves liver and grilled beef steak.’

Marc catches my worried expression. ‘It’s okay,’ he whispers. ‘This is a tapas restaurant. You order lots of small dishes. And share everything.’

‘I should have remembered that. I went out with Leo one time and … anyway. Thank you for explaining.’

‘Oh I’m so silly!’ Nadia exclaims. ‘The chicken comes in sherry, but for Sophia … not such a good idea right? If she might be … you know.’ She glances at my stomach.

‘I think a little alcohol in sauce is okay,’ I say. ‘I mean, I’m already drinking a sherry.’

‘Let me re-order, just in case. I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt my good friend’s unborn baby.’ Nadia shouts at the waiter in Spanish. Then she slaps her hands on the table. ‘So! You look worried Sophia. What is it? You think I’m going to say you can’t test for the movie because you’re pregnant?’

I feel the nerves in my stomach soften a little. ‘I did think that,’ I admit. ‘I mean, we don’t know if I am pregnant. It might not even be likely. But … I wanted you to know it could be possible.’

Nadia claps her hands together. ‘Listen. Honey. I have three children. I don’t mind if you’re pregnant. I don’t believe a woman should be held back because of her body.’ She grins. ‘So listen. Remember I said on the phone last week that I had something to discuss? Well now it’s turned out to be two things. Something for you and something for Marc. Who wants to hear first?’