Wife After Wife, page 21
The ring sparkled in the candlelight, an enormous ruby set in two circles of diamonds.
“It’s bloody difficult, choosing for a style icon, but—”
“Harry, it’s perfect . . .”
Ana wrenched her mind back to the present and craned her head toward the bar. Merry was still waiting to be served. Not so long ago, the crowds would have parted like the Red Sea, and some hopeful man would have asked her what she was drinking. But Merry’s flame had gone out, and now she was just another girl fighting to be noticed.
Finally she arrived with the drinks, and they clinked their glasses together. It felt nice to be out of London. Ana felt Harry’s absence as an ache, but the breathing space was probably good for her, and the Merry situation needed sorting.
“Bloody hell, that was a mission,” said Merry. “So, dear sister, let’s skip straight past my train wreck of a life and ask what’s going on with yours. I was sorry to hear you dumped Percy. He seemed nice. Unlike a certain shit I was stupid enough to get involved with.” She spat out the word.
“Pretty busy at work.” Should she say something now? Or would that ruin Christmas for everyone? She didn’t want to be responsible for familial drama.
“How long are you going to stay in Scotland?”
“For a while. I’ll have to come down occasionally, for board meetings, but the McCarey’s team doesn’t need me and I was only ever interested in the wine part.”
“Won’t you go a bit mad, stuck up there?”
“Truth? I can’t face coming back to London yet. Too many memories. I will eventually, when I’m ready for Operation Destroy Harry Rose. But that’s going to be major drama, so I’ve got to make sure I’m strong enough. Oh, by the way, I know he’s your boss, so that’s obviously between us. We’re family, so I can rely on you, right?”
A sense of impending doom crept over Ana. “What do you mean, Operation Destroy Harry Rose? You mustn’t do anything rash, Merry. Just put it all behind you and move on.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’ve never had your heart broken by a coldhearted bastard. And don’t forget, ‘Hell hath no fury.’ We must be deserving of our scorned-woman reputations.” Her eyes were glittering, and she gnawed at the side of her thumbnail.
“Stop it, Merry. You know he’s a powerful man. You don’t want to make an enemy out of Harry Rose. Get over him.”
“I’ll never get over him, Ana. He’s ruined my life. Yes, it started as a fling, but I fell in love with him, and he said he loved me too.”
Did he?
“Truth is, he loved blonde sex-bomb me, but when I turned into sad me with a dying husband, he didn’t want to know. He needs to pay for the way he cast me aside like a—a used tissue. Maybe in the News of the World.”
“You’re not serious. It’d hurt you more than Harry. Think of your reputation. You were married too.”
“There speaks the perfect loyal employee. Just watch me, Ana. I can see it now: Love Rat Harry Dumps Tragic Widow. They’d love it. The broken promises, the sleaze, the lies. The press like nothing more than bringing down a hypocrite, a whiter-than-white good bloke.”
Ana felt nauseated. “You mustn’t, Merry.” It came out as a croak.
“Oh, but I must! It’s the only thing keeping me going at the moment. Like you say, one’s at risk of mental illness, being cooped up in a castle.”
Right now, she did indeed look like the madwoman in the attic.
“Please, Merry, for my sake, then. Harry might sack me, especially if he found out I knew what you were planning.”
“Who’d tell him? Not me.”
“Just . . . don’t!”
“Sorry. My mind’s made up. He’s going to pay for what he’s done.”
Ana snapped. “For god’s sake, Merry. Have some self-respect! You seduced Harry. It was you who instigated the affair. Then you hooked him with your blonde-bimbo routine and your special French . . . things. You were the classic bit on the side. It was never going to be anything more. As if someone like Harry would marry someone like you! Just let it go. Harry doesn’t deserve that.”
“Why are you defending him? Oh, of course. That ambition of yours. Suck up to the bloody boss rather than defend your own sister. Whatever happened to blood being thicker than water? You’re a cold, calculating cow. I’d hate to be you.”
“You can’t expose Harry. You just can’t.” Her voice was pleading.
Merry went still as understanding dawned in her eyes. She turned white.
“No. You wouldn’t do that to me. You . . . and Harry?”
Ana hadn’t meant it to be like this. Her anger evaporated, and she reached out to touch her sister.
Merry quickly raised her arm, hitting Ana’s out of the way.
Heads turned.
“Merry, please. I was going to tell you. I was waiting for the right moment, I didn’t want to spoil Christmas.”
Ana saw the fight leave Merry and despair take its place. Her sister’s eyes filled with tears, and she slumped against the fireplace.
“Merry . . .”
“Go away. Just leave me alone.”
“You won’t go to the press, though . . .”
“Is that all you care about, Ana? What’s happened to you?”
CHAPTER 28
Ana
February 1994
Ana stood on the Tower of London embankment, leaning on the railings above the Traitors’ Gate. She was early for today’s Blur photo shoot. The Hooray! team often had their music playing at work, and Ana was looking forward to meeting the band.
Terri, of course, preferred Oasis.
The brown waters of the Thames slapped against the ancient walls as a tour boat chugged past. She pushed her hands deeper into her coat pockets and tucked her chin into her scarf against the chill, peering down at the centuries-old gates beneath the stone arch. This was the way in for traitors in Tudor times. She could almost hear the quiet splash of oars, sense the fear of those who’d passed beneath this bridge.
A loud caaark! made her jump, and she turned to see a raven perched on the wall beside her. It looked her in the eye, and she shivered, remembering they were omens of bad luck. “Shoo!” she said, flapping her hand at it.
“Abandon hope all ye who enter . . . or whatever it is. Kind of creepy.”
Jake, Hooray!’s chief photographer, had appeared at her side, rubbing his hands together. “It’s brass monkeys today. Whose bright idea was it to shoot outside?”
“Mine.”
“Oh. Well, I guess it’ll look cool, London band at the Tower.”
“It’s your job to make it look cool. Randi will take care of the red noses.”
“Right. Shall we make a start, then?”
Five minutes later, Blur piled out of a car. Ana couldn’t help smiling. They were incredibly cute.
A member of the Tower staff showed the team and the band to the room they’d been allocated. Ana, Jake, and Ana’s assistant Mark left them to it, and went to look at the locations Mark had previously scouted.
They made their way along a gravel path next to an expanse of lawn. On all four sides rose the Tower walls.
“I thought we could start here,” said Mark, pointing to a plaque. “It’s where they chopped people’s heads off.”
Ana moved closer to the small memorial, reading the names on it. As she did, she experienced the strangest sensation, as though there was something crawling beneath her skin.
WILLIAM, LORD HASTINGS. LADY JANE GREY. QUEEN ANNE BOLEYN . . .
Now Ana felt nauseated, faint. “Excuse me,” she said, and went to sit on the nearest bench.
“You all right, doll?” called Jake.
What was going on? She was overcome with dizziness; it felt as if the Tower walls were closing in on her. She put her head between her knees.
Jake sat down beside her. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Watch your mouth, Jake.”
“Sorry, forgot my place there for a moment.”
He didn’t sound sorry.
She took some deep breaths and sat up straight. Thankfully, the world seemed to have stopped spinning. “I’m fine. Let’s get on with it. But bin the memorial idea, it’d look crass.”
They made their way back to the team.
“It’s freezing out there,” said Ana to the stylist. “We’ll need Randi on standby to sort out red noses.”
“It’s not Randi, it’s Liv.” The stylist nodded at the makeup girl across the room.
A flash of irritation. Why had no one told her of any changes?
“Why? I booked Randi before Christmas. I specifically wanted Randi.”
The room fell quiet as her voice rose.
“Why the hell don’t people do as I ask?”
Mark coughed. “Terri needed Randi for Kate Moss. She said she agreed it with you ages ago.”
Ana was breathing fast. This room with its grim stone walls was giving her claustrophobia. She sat down suddenly on a chair, taking deep breaths.
Now she remembered the conversation with Terri. “Sorry, all. I’m not feeling great today. Go ahead, I’ll catch you up.”
As they left, she wondered what had got into her. No doubt they all thought she was getting up herself. It was common knowledge she was Harry’s girlfriend, though her demeanor didn’t invite that particular topic of conversation, even with Terri and Nate, who now treated her with a degree of wariness that made her rather sad.
She was obviously more stressed than she realized, losing her head over inconsequential things. Living with Harry was wonderful, and she was never happier than when she was on his arm, out and about. London society now knew about his split with Katie and that Ana was his new partner. But there was a degree of sniffiness; Katie had been popular, back in the day.
She stood to leave, glancing out the window, smiling as she saw Blur larking around on Tower Green below.
Harry
August 1994
Rosenews.co.uk was going to be a trailblazer. In a matter of weeks, Harry’s growing empire would be the first in the UK to put news online.
His team predicted that advertising uptake would be slow at first but would quickly build. The internet was growing across the world like a creeping plant, branching and dividing exponentially, its shoots tickling new hosts, sending down suckers. Already, every department at Rose rang to the shriek of computers logging on via their new modems.
This evening, Harry would be giving a presentation to advertisers, at the Southbank Centre. Janette was looking stressed, her cheeks pink as she worked through her to-do list, interrupted regularly by Harry wanting changes to his PowerPoint slides.
“Sorry, just a couple more,” he said, perching on her desk.
“That’s fine, Harry. Sorry I’m so slow. I’m still learning this software.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re a treasure for putting up with my technological incompetence. I’d be utterly lost without you, dearest Moneypenny.”
As Janette gave a delightful giggle, Ana walked in. She frowned as her eyes flicked between them, and asked, “Harry, what time should I be there tonight?”
“It’s a sales thing, for advertisers. You probably wouldn’t enjoy it.”
“I’ll come,” said Ana. “I want to hear all about the website. You know—like I said?”
Harry remembered she’d expressed interest in the new venture, but he hadn’t seen it as something she’d be suited for.
“OK, come if you want. Starts at six. I’ll be going early with Janette.”
She glanced up and gave Ana a proprietorial smile.
“Right,” Ana said. “I have things to finish, but I’ll do my best.”
* * *
• • •
The presentation was well received, and as advertisers got stuck into the wine and finger food afterward, the buzz was all about the internet.
As Harry listened idly to the conversation of two ad execs who were probably ten years younger than him, he experienced a twinge of regret. Truth be told, he was sure that personally, he’d always prefer his news in print. He couldn’t ever see himself logging on to a computer for his fix. But those around him were gung ho about the changes, so he wouldn’t be sharing his personal preferences. God forbid he should be seen as a dinosaur.
He caught sight of Ana across the room. She was looking svelte and sophisticated, as always. They had recently been dubbed “London’s Most Glamorous Couple” by the Evening Standard. She loved these functions, where she could waft around enjoying the attention, in particular the obsequiousness of those now below her on the social and business scale. Which was usually just about everyone.
As he watched her, he reflected on their time together—it had now been more than half a year. Life was mostly good, if sometimes exhausting. Ana was one demanding woman. She was great company, with her sharp intelligence and keen interest in the business—although he had to rein her in every now and again, remind her she was an art director, not a company director. And that was all he wanted her to be, for now. He was aware Rose staff were having trouble dealing with her queenly ways as it was. When she was more accepted, then he’d think about how he could involve her in the new directions the company was taking. Maybe.
Bored with the two ad execs, he decided to join her, but then realized she was talking to BWG’s Connor Black. The agency spent a reasonable amount of money with Rose publications, but no longer handled Rose Corp.’s own advertising. Once Percy was exiled, Harry had sacked them.
He’d avoid Connor for now; he’d never liked the man.
“Harry?”
He looked down to see Janette beside him.
“Yes, Janette.”
“Someone from the Standard wants a quote from you about the website—that guy over there, if you have a moment.”
“Fine. And . . . Janette?”
“Yes, Harry?”
“Thanks for all your help today. You’ve been great.” He gave her an affectionate smile and touched her arm.
This time, her flush spread all the way down from her cheeks to her chest. “It’s always a pleasure, Harry. You know that.”
Ana
Bad Harry, leading that secretary on. Ana had clocked him from across the room, throwing a compliment her way like a man chucking a dog a bone. She could see the blush from here.
“Sorry?” She’d missed what Connor Black was saying. In fact, she didn’t really care about his views on whether the move online was going to hurt or benefit news organizations. He was one of those advertising guys who said whatever they thought sounded cool, whether they believed it or not, using words they probably made up. In a fake Cockney accent.
“I said, Percy North’s back in town.”
“Oh!” This was a surprise. “Really? I’m not in touch with him anymore.”
“No, I don’t suppose you would be.” Connor winked.
Ana resisted the temptation to cut him down to size. She was supposed to be nice to advertisers tonight.
“It didn’t work out for him in Dublin. He wants his old job back. I might just give it to him. I think he probably deserves it, don’t you?”
“But isn’t the Celtic Tiger really kicking off?” said Ana. “Didn’t he like Dublin in the end?”
“He was bored. There wasn’t much for him to do—we handle most of it from here. Harry just wanted him out of the way. And now we know why. Naughty Harry.” His eyes traveled down her body.
Harry had fired BWG, so Ana presumed he wasn’t Connor’s favorite person right now. Then she registered his words. “What did you say? Harry—”
“Percy was the only reason we won the Rose account in the first place, love. He gave us the business on the condition we sent Percy away, somewhere as far from you as possible. Poor old Percy.” He kept his eyes on hers, narrowed, waiting for her response.
Ana managed to hide her shock. She didn’t want to give this odious man the satisfaction of witnessing her discomfort.
“That’s Harry for you!” she said briskly. “All’s fair in love and war, and all that. Connor, would you excuse me? I need to powder my nose.”
“Of course, love. Have one for me.”
Jesus.
In the ladies, she sat down in a cubicle, her mind racing. Harry had engineered Percy’s exile to Dublin with Machiavellian cunning. In the process, he’d hired and fired an agency, all because of her.
She hadn’t thought about Percy in months, but now she allowed herself to remember the man she’d loved before her infatuation with Harry had taken hold. Before he’d cast his line and reeled her in.
Pictures came into her head, of happy, relaxed times with the person she’d thought of as her soul mate. For a moment she felt a deep sadness.
Then she thought about what Harry had done, how carefully he must have planned it. How much must he have wanted her?
A jolt of desire ran through her.
She exited the cubicle and washed her hands, then touched up her lipstick. Looking good.
As she was leaving, Janette came in. There was a hint of dismay as she saw Ana, then she smiled. “Hi, Ana! It’s gone really well. Harry’s very pleased!”
Ana caught a whiff of her perfume. Anaïs Anaïs, unless she was mistaken. How very Boots.
“Good. But it’s time for him to come home now. I’m bored, and . . . well, horny, actually.” She winked.
The secretary’s jaw dropped, and Ana swept past. Smiling to herself, she headed toward Harry, aware of heads turning as she passed.
He was talking to a striking blonde wearing an indecently short, black, wet-look skirt teamed with knee-high white boots. Her pale pink lips were set in a deliberate pout as she looked up at Harry from under false eyelashes, which she was most definitely fluttering.
