Nora took off her glasses and rubbed them on her scarf. ‘And whatareyou looking for?’
Greta thought about it. She’d already tried explaining Ma- pleville to Jim, and that had gone spectacularly badly. She wasn’t about to make the same mistake with Nora. Her agent would probably pick it apart and spin it into some kind of brand strategy. However, with all Nora’s experience in the entertainment world, she might just understandsomething.
‘It’s more of a feeling rather than an ambition,’ Greta said, touching her pearl necklace. ‘It’s difficult to explain where I’ve been, and what I did there . . .’
‘An audition for another project?’ Nora asked, jumping to conclusions. ‘Care to share?’
‘It’s . . . complicated. A unique, new situation I need to figure out on my own.’
‘I hear you, and I’m here if you ever want to talk. I’ve seen it all in my line of work. I sometimes think you’re the only one who sees me as a real person rather than a magician.’ Nora’s eyes dimmed a little. She slid her glasses back on and paused. ‘One of my biggest clients has stopped returning my calls. I’m feeling a bit shut out right now, still trying to land Tobias. But he’s not biting. I don’t know . . . maybe I’m losing my Midas touch.’
Greta was surprised to see this softer side of her agent. ‘Perhaps you’re just trying too hard for the people who don’t appreciate it,’ she said.
‘Perhaps.’ Nora tapped a finger on the table. ‘Just remember, whatever this new thing of yours is, I’m here to help, or just to chat.’ Her eyes wandered around the room, landing on Lottie’s broken silver bracelet on the edge of the table. ‘Didn’t that belong to your mum?’ she asked. ‘I think I remember Marjorie wearing it.’
Greta picked up the bracelet, running her finger over the jagged edge where the clasp had snapped off. Marjorie had always admired Nora’s verve, even when it had started to wear thin for Greta. Her mum had accompanied her to her first- ever meeting with Sky High Ltd.
Greta remembered how, during her mum’s final weeks, Nora had arrived with DVD box sets ofBrideshead RevisitedandDownton Abbey,determined to lift Marjorie’s spirits. It had been one of the rare times Greta had seen Nora set work aside.
‘Yes, it was Mum’s.’ Greta nodded. ‘I gave it to Lottie for her birthday, but it got broken.’
Nora pressed a hand to her chest. ‘Oh, darling. How terrible.’ Her businesslike manner slid away even further. ‘I could take it to my jeweller, Leonard, if you like. He specialises in vintage pieces. He’ll probably be able to make it as good as new—a nice surprise for Lottie.’
Greta hesitated. Her anger with Nora had dulled, replaced by something closer to empathy. The offer was tempting, showing that Nora really did want to make amends.
‘Consider it another part of my apology,’ Nora added. ‘Then I don’t need to source any olive branches or doves.’
The two women shared a smile.
‘Thanks, Nora.’ Greta wrapped the bracelet in tissue paper and placed it in a small box. She watched as Nora tucked it carefully into her handbag.
Nora stood up. ‘Just before I go,’ she said, ‘I’ve got one last job to offer you. It’s low-key, but something about it made me think of you. Might be more in line with where you are right now . . .’
Greta lifted her chin. ‘Oh?’
‘It’s a charming little radio show calledCoffee Morning Crew.’Nora wound her scarf around her neck. ‘Someone dropped out last minute, and the producer needs a replacement. Participants choose four dream guests they’d invite to a hypothetical coffee gathering. It’s warm, chatty and, well, pays absolutely nothing.’ Nora sighed, as if the thought physically pained her.
Greta let out a dry laugh. ‘Money isn’t everything. And it sounds a lot less muddy thanBack to the Land.’
‘Very true. It’s a twenty-minute segment that goes out live on Radio Logic. I’ve never even heard of the station, and—’
‘I’ll do it,’ Greta said firmly.
‘Okay,fabulosa,Nora replied, as if the lack of fee wasn’t fabulous at all. ‘Who will you choose as your hypothetical guests?’
Greta thought for a while. ‘Perhaps Audrey Hepburn, Margaret Atwood, Tobias Blake and, I don’t know . . . Alice in Wonderland.’
‘Hmm.Veryinteresting choices, darling. I’ll tell the producer. You need to be at the studio at 8:30 a.m. sharp on Monday. I’ll email you all the details.’
After her agent left, Greta stretched her neck to ease a knot of tension.
She picked up the sunflowers, trimmed the stems, and arranged them in a vase, setting them down beside all her other blooms. Despite Nora’s efforts, Greta still felt unsettled. The idea of stepping back into her performing career, even in the smallest way, should have felt like progress. Instead, it made her twitchy, like it wasn’t the answer she was searching for.
A ping broke Greta’s focus, pulling her attention away from the flowers.
A notification had appeared on her phone.
Edgar Barker had replied to the question she’d posted in the local Facebook forum. She sucked in a breath as she opened the message.
