To begin with, I’ll try to avoid Ashford as much as possible from tomorrow onwards, and I’ll speak to him only when strictly necessary. Out of sight, out of mind, and out of any other part of my body that reacts against my will every time he’s in front of me.
58
Ashford’s Version
Since the evening of the birthday party, when we almost kissed, Jemma has become elusive.
She’s become a kind of presence, here at Denby: I can feel she’s there but I can’t see her; as soon as I enter a room, she leaves by another door. She’s like a poltergeist.
My mother, for her part, has turned into Vance and Carly’s shadow, she hangs on their every word, hoping to see the Sultan of Brunei or the Emperor of Japan arrive at any moment. All she does is ask them how long it usually is between the sheikh’s visits.
Kindly and politely, they bear with her.
Anyway, their daughter is nowhere to be found and I swear I’m going crazy.
Sometimes, I would like to break into her room while she’s sleeping and shout: ‘Try to escape from me now!’, but that wouldn’t be me. It wouldn’t even be hard, given that she hasn’t locked her door for quite a while now, which is another thing that’s making my brain fizz: is it on purpose? Does she want me to go in?
It was better when it was worse, when we were engaged in open warfare, because, at least, the boundaries were clear: we lived separate lives and only spoke to insult each other.
Now, our relationship has become shadowy and ambiguous: we’re business partners, friends, accomplices and involved in a little affair, but I no longer have the script for my role.
I would talk to Harring about it, but I know him too well, he lacks the right sensitivity to understand the situation. Intellectual ability is not his forte.
Nevertheless, there’s our first theatre premiere tonight, and, whether she likes it or not, Jemma will come to London with me to attend the event.
After lurking at my study window for a while I see her going to the stables. I follow her and find her grooming Poppy, so I take this opportunity to remind her of the premiere, hoping that she hasn’t come up with some plan to stand me up.
“I was about to report you missing,” I say, taking her by surprise and making her jump.
“I… I’ve been busy,” she stutters without looking into my eyes.
“In a manor full of servants, I find your explanation rather implausible.”
“Excuse me, do you need anything?” She says, with a snort of irritation.
“I just came to remind you that we have a theatre premiere in London tonight, in case you forgot.”
She continues grooming Poppy quite energetically, not entirely to her pleasure and receives an evil stare for her efforts. “You were right. In fact, I had forgotten.”
“All right, I feel that my presence is not welcome, although we are in my house and there’s no reason for you to treat me like this. Be ready at 6 p.m., I’ll wait for you in the hall. Enjoy your day.” I turn round and leave the stables. Bitch!
“What are they staging tonight?” She asks.
“Shakespeare.The Taming of the Shrew.”
59
Jemma’s Version
I’m so nervous that I’m shaking like a leaf. Social events were way easier when I saw Ashford as just an arrogant aristocratic puppet. Then, I could just be there, and ignore the aristocracy and their etiquette.
Instead, thinking about tonight’s premiere, I can’t help picturing a parallel universe in which Ashford and I married for love. There is this perfect romantic evening: we hold hands at the theatre and exchange furtive looks between acts; he caresses my leg, warming the silk of my dress; I can look at him without having to lower my eyes and blush; I can fantasise about his sculpted shoulders, outlined to perfection by his jacket; I can lose myself in his bright green eyes lit up by passion, let the tip of my finger run down his jawline, drive my hand through the soft waves of his hair and make all the other women green with envy when he can’t take his eyes off me as he escorts me through the foyer.
But no, it can’t be like that. I can’t fall for him, because this thing will end eventually and, when the time comes, I have the right and the duty to leave Denby with my dignity and with my head held high, not like the pathetic fan of a boy band, with tears in my eyes and a red nose.
Shall I go to this premiere? All right, I’ll put on that amazing Zac Posen chiffon dress with a lovely satin wrap shawl, I’ll grit my teeth and do my duty.
Anyway, my determination crumbles in a few seconds when I see Ashford looking so handsome in his tailcoat.
