Imogen baulked. ‘Not sure what Dylan would make of that.’
James rolled towards her. ‘As your business partner, not your lover,’ he said. ‘What does he think about it all, anyway?’
‘He couldn’t be happier,’ she said. ‘And about the name – your suggestion doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.’ She looked at him. ‘When do you have to get back to school?’
James glanced at his watch – one of his more expensive ones, Imogen noted. She knew he liked to collect them.
He groaned. ‘I’ve got a senior leadership meeting in twenty minutes.’
‘That’s a shame,’ said Imogen.
He kissed her. ‘Dead right it is. We’ll have to organize an investors’ meeting again soon. There’s lots to discuss, I’m sure.’
She smiled. ‘There is. In fact...I was wondering about Dylan...’
He was starting to get dressed. ‘He’s not joining us, is he? Only I don’t fancy that kind of threesome.’
‘Course not. It’s about the job. At Kingsgate. Will you put in a good word? Seeing as you have the head’s ear.’
‘Dylan made it very clear he didn’t want my help,’ said James sniffily. ‘I’m not entirely sure why my offer was so distasteful.’
‘You know what he’s like. Proud.’
‘I don’t know. What if he found out? It’ll piss him off no end. Your revolutionary husband.’
‘Why would he? In fact, you’re on strict instructions to keep it quiet.’ Imogen placed her hand into his pants. ‘Please?’ she asked. ‘It would mean a lot to me.’
He resisted for a few moments but she knew what she was doing and before long he was agreeing.
James left first. Despite his comments about an investors’ meeting, it wouldn’t do for them to be seen together – especially during school hours. Once he’d gone, Imogen tidied up the cushions and looked around the room. The remnants of her last endeavour didn’t depress her as much as she’d thought they would. It was all water under the bridge now. This new pizza restaurant was going to be a success, she knew it. She would be open in two months. Just in time for the Christmas party season. In fact, the contractors were already booked to start the refit.
As Imogen locked the door behind her she thought she’d take Arthur out for a quick walk. She went home to get him and then headed towards the reservoir. Almost immediately Arthur started pulling on his lead.
Hazel was walking towards them. Imogen smiled. Arthur knew exactly which locals were dog lovers. He planted himself at Hazel’s feet, sitting immediately and obediently, and waited for his reward.
‘Oh, you’re such a good boy,’ said Hazel, reaching into her coat pocket.
‘You’ve got him better trained than we have,’ said Imogen. ‘How’s the exercise regime going?’
‘I’ve lost four pounds!’ said Hazel. ‘The doctor is very pleased with me.’
Imogen decided to get a takeaway coffee from Heron Water Cafe to celebrate her new venture. She tied Arthur up and went inside. When she came back out again, she noticed he’d been sick. A half-eaten hot dog was lying on the ground.
She sighed. ‘Serves you right for scavenging,’ she reprimanded, and then untied him so they could walk down by the water.
She strolled along the reservoir path, taking in the explosion of red and gold leaves that covered the acres of trees all along the banks. A few fishermen were out in their boats, the on-board motors sending a gentle rumble across the water. Then they stopped and the ripples from the boats’ movement lapped all the way to the shore, down by her feet. There were a couple of people out on pleasure craft too – a windsurfer who was confidently streaming across the water, the sun catching on the plastic sail. Its bright red colour and the sunlight on the water made Imogen think of holidays abroad. Maybe next year they might even be able to afford one. Behind the windsurfer was a more sedate paddleboarder, the person on the board wobbling as they attempted to stand up. Imogen watched, wondering if they were going to fall in, and then as they stood, she realized who it was: Nancy.
Imogen watched for a moment, then smiled. She wondered if Nancy had found out yet that the shop premises she’d had her eye on had been taken by someone else.
It tasted sweet. Revenge. Or comeback. Whatever you wanted to call it. And now Imogen had a taste for it, she wasn’t going to stop there.
NINETEEN
Friday 18 September
Nancy pressed ‘Send’ on her email to Miss Young and got up from her desk. Things hadn’t improved – in fact, they had got worse – and she wanted a meeting with the teacher to talk it over.
Lara had come home from school several times over the last week upset about things that Rosie had said to her. Lara had struck up an early friendship with another girl in the class, Mia, but Rosie seemed intent on destroying it. Having ignored Mia for months, Rosie now suddenly seemed to want to claim her. She had gone over to where Mia and Lara were talking and, tucking her arm into Mia’s, insisted they needed a ‘private conversation’ and had dragged her away, leaving Lara alone in the playground. When Lara had asked to join a group game, Rosie had played up the drama, deliberating whether she was going to let her in – then humiliatingly said the group was full. Then, to Nancy’s growing fury, Rosie had declared she and Mia were going to sunbathe one breaktime and told Lara she could be their ‘sunshade’ and instructed her to stand so that she cast a shadow over them.
