‘Oh, poor you. No rest for the wicked.’ She laughs.
Betsy shoots me a hard look. I match her right back.
‘Any news on the missing voice?’ Fitz asks brightly.
‘No.’ I sigh. ‘King didn’t recognise the vocalist.’
‘Hmm.’ Fitz looks thoughtful. ‘Know what, there’s the charity ball tonight. She could be there. They have artists performing in all the different rooms. Maybe about thirty.’
‘That’s an idea,’ I say enthusiastically. Anything to get out of this place. ‘We could go?’
‘Well.’ Fitz lounges in the doorway, pulling her body one way, then the other. ‘Actually, I was going to see if you would go with someone else. I’m kind of busy.’
I have no idea what Fitz’s ‘busy’ would involve. Most likely nail bars and yoga classes. It’s certainly not something most people would recognise as rushed off their feet. Then again, she’s kind of letting me off the hook. I like Fitz, maybe I even love her. Maybe, but we haven’t had a physical relationship for around twelve months. She’s more like a sister to me now. She seems to feel the same way too. What I can’t work out is why she’s still sticking close.
Fitz draws in a long, deep breath. ‘Maybe that new girl? Maybe you could take her to the gala. She knows that missing voice thing inside out.’ Suddenly, Fitz glances around, scanning the suite. ‘Where is the new girl?’
‘Lunch,’ I say.
Fitz’s lips narrow thoughtfully. ‘Oh right, that’s good. I mean, it’s good that you haven’t sacked her yet.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘That’s always so… so boring. So, yeah. I guess if the new girl hasn’t been sacked…’ Fitz shrugs her shoulders. ‘Why not take her?’
CLARA
‘How’s that letter going?’ Nelly puts a mug of tea in front of me. The tea is a work of art in itself – a china cup and saucer carrying the most detailed purple flourishes of flowers. There’s also a small daisy-shaped biscuit on the side and a silver teaspoon.
‘You always do everything so beautifully,’ I say.
‘Oh, stop.’ Nelly taps my shoulder in a flirtatiously light manner. ‘Or my head will swell and I’ll fall over my feet. A man has to be a balanced creature.’
I’m not sure what he’s talking about, but maybe all arty people shoot the breeze with a little more imagination than your average Joe.
‘And the letter?’ He stares down at the blank page. ‘Oh, well, that’s going well. It’ll be all done by the time you’re sixty-five. Perfect timing.’
I laugh. ‘It’s tough. It’s the job I’ve always wanted, but–’
He waves his hands. ‘Don’t tell me. I can’t do the split loyalty thing. You do what you think is best.’ With that, his phone starts ringing. ‘I’ll just take this call. Why don’t you see if you can think up a few more words while I’m at it.’
‘Hello,’ he says brightly into his handset. ‘Nelly here.’
I stare back at the blank paper. Then I begin.
‘Dear Mr Delagado,’ I start, but am immediately interrupted.
‘She’s actually right here,’ Nelly says to somebody at the end of the line. I glance over at him, his eyes burning into mine as if this is a three-way conversation. He taps the top of my letter and narrows his eyes. Of course, it’s Marco. He’s either watched the footage and is about to give me a grilling, or he’s ringing to see if I can pick him up a BLT on my way back. The man has a lot to–
‘The gala?’ Nelly cuts into my thoughts. ‘Tonight?’
The gala at the Beaumont? I’ve wanted to go there for years. It’s the biggest event of the year. Cinderella-style glamour. Sometimes my brother and Tim do the valet parking, and they always come home with stories about just how wonderful it is. Then I check myself, bringing myself back down to earth. Knowing Mr Delagado, he probably needs me to pick up his suit from the dry cleaners.
‘Would Clara like to go?’ Nelly says slowly, clearly repeating the conversation he’s having with Marco with an exaggerated sense of diction so there is no way in the world that I’ll miss out one syllable.
‘Seriously?’ I hiss.
Nelly covers the phone. ‘Seriously.’
I finger the edges of my letter. I could go to the gala tonight and then hand in my resignation in the morning. Marco clearly hasn’t looked at the footage yet. It’s unlikely the shit is going to hit the fan today. As all these thoughts whirl through my brain, Nelly continues his conversation with Marco.
‘I think it’s a brilliant idea,’ Nelly enthuses. ‘Truly, one of your best.’ He rolls his eyes and mouths the words ‘so needy’ with an accompanying wrist flick before seamlessly picking up where he left off with Marco. ‘There will be lots of artists. You might easily find your little lost songbird there.’
