‘What’s going on?’ I frown as I make my way downstairs.’What have you sent over?’
‘Well, Jess, about an hour ago I got a letter from Leo Frost.’
I pause on the stairs. ‘What?’ My stomach dives to my knees.
‘And you are not going tobelievewhat it was.’
‘What? What was it?’ I hurry down the rest of the stairs and to the front door, where I rifle through the post pile. There it is. A white A4 envelope addressed to me. Peach must have signed for it on her way out to the shops.
‘Have you found it?’ Valentina asks impatiently.
‘I’m just opening it!’ I say, my hands shaking.
I carefully peel open the top of the envelope and pull out a small stack of papers. The top sheet of paper is a photocopy of a release form. It’s signed by Leo and it states that he’s giving us permission to use his name inHow to Catch a Man Like It’s 1955.
My heart starts to beat even faster.
‘Oh,’ I whisper into the phone.
And then I look at the other pieces of paper, and what’s on them makes me drop the phone on the floor, where it lands with a thud. Because on each new piece of paper is a detailed, delicate line drawing. The first drawing is of me and Leo in a dodgem car. The next is of me in that weird, tufty hat, on stage at Little Joe’s Java poetry night. There’s one of Leo and me in the Da Vinci room in front ofThe Virgin on the Rocks. The sketches are intricate and breathtaking.
I rustle through to the final piece of paper in the pile. It’s a drawing of me on the night of the London Advertising Association Awards ball. It seems Leo has remembered every detail of what I looked like that night, right down to the embroidering on the dress and the Ferris-wheel brooch. At the bottom of the drawing he has scrawled the words ‘For Jess’.
I swallow down the lump in my throat and pick the phone up off the floor with barely working hands.
‘Valentina, are you still there?’
‘I am.’ She sounds bemused.
‘I don’t understand,’ I whisper. ‘Why … ’
‘Not only has Leo agreed to publication ofHow to Catch a Man Like It’s 1955, but he’s offered to illustrate it too.’
I laugh out loud. What does this mean?
‘Perhaps he’s got a heart after all,’ Valentina says. ‘Shocking. I never thought it possible. I heard he left Woolf Frost. Perhaps agreeing to this is his way of sticking it to his father and the company? Either way, everyone here is thrilled, such a high-profile man as Leo wanting to be involved. We’re already talking about a sequel. Of course, I’ll need those words from you as soon as possible. We want to strike while—’
‘I can’t believe it. I can’t believe he did this.’
‘It looks like you’ve brought something special out in Leo, Jessica. Something I never had a hope of doing. But that’s OK. The heart wants what it wants, and I happen to have my eye on a delightful British actor I’ve seen at lots of parties lately. He’s very famous, so I can’t share anything more right now, but let’s just say thatthegame is afoot.Shall we make plans for lunch? I’ll tell you all about it then and we can—’
‘So Leo’s back in the country,’ I blurt, not able to concentrate on anything Valentina’s saying because my heart is pounding so loudly in my ears.
‘Seems so!’ she says.
He’s back.
‘Valentina, do you mind if I call you back in a bit?’ I say, feeling a bubble of laughter rise in my throat.
She chuckles. ‘Of course. Go to him, sweet Jessica. Go to him.’
And so I do.
* * *
I arrive at Leo’s apartment block in the Docklands sweaty and breathless, my cheeks red, my hair clinging to my forehead, my purple vest absolutely soaked through. I knock on his door, clutching the photocopied drawings in my hands. I look down at them for the gazillionth time and bounce with pleasure.
The door opens, and there Leo is. He’s dressed down in a plain white T-shirt and jeans, his ginger hair wet from the shower.
