Out of the Blue. Isabel Wolff

mirror.

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Look, there’s something you’ve got to know.’ My pulse was racing.

      ‘Yes?’ I said again. Peter took a deep breath.

      ‘I’m leaving.’

      ‘Sorry?’

      ‘I’m leaving,’ he repeated as we faced each other in the hall.

      ‘You’re leaving what?’ I said, faintly. ‘Me?’

      ‘No, you twit – Fenton & Friend. I’m out!’

      ‘My God!’ I said with a gasp. ‘She’s done it! She’s finally sacked you, the cow!’ Peter’s face was still a mask of seriousness; but then he suddenly grinned.

      ‘No, Faith, she didn’t sack me,’ he explained. ‘Because I resigned first. And I told her that I was resigning … ’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Because I’ve been offered another job!’

      ‘You’ve got another job!’ I yelled. ‘Oh, how marvellous!’ I threw my arms round him. I was having a very good day. ‘How fantastic! Oh, Peter! Where?’

      ‘Faith,’ he said, and now his face was wreathed in smiles, ‘I’m going to be the new managing director of Bishopsgate!’

      ‘Bishopsgate,’ I gasped. ‘Bishopsgate? My God! But they’re huge!’

      ‘Yes, I know,’ he said wonderingly as he took off his coat. ‘And because they’ve expanded so much in the last couple of years they were looking for a new MD. So I was interviewed twice.’

      ‘But why didn’t you tell me?’ I said as we went into the sitting room.

      ‘Because I was scared I wouldn’t get it, and I wanted it so much. But they did one final interview with me at lunchtime, then Andy phoned to say I’d got the job.’

      ‘Oh, darling!’ I said and I hugged him again.

      ‘And Faith,’ he went on, wonderingly, as he fixed himself a drink. ‘The money. The money’s going to be three times what I get now. We won’t have to struggle so much.’

      ‘God, how fantastic! But what did Charmaine say?’

      ‘She was livid,’ he said as he sat down and loosened his tie. ‘She was spitting fire. Especially when I told her about my new job. She kept telling me that it was “outrageous” – it’s her favourite word, silly old bat. She had the nerve to accuse me of being disloyal. So I pointed out that I’d worked for Fenton & Friend very happily for thirteen years, and that the only reason I’d been looking elsewhere was because she’s such a nightmare.’

      ‘Oh, darling, that was really brave of you – and typically truthful, too.’

      ‘I had nothing to lose at that stage,’ he explained with a shrug. ‘Anyway, she tried to kick me out, on the spot. But I wasn’t having that. I informed her that I was on three months’ notice, as stipulated in my contract. Then I got a call from Personnel, who are going to pay me off to leave by the fourteenth. Now I’ve got to call all my authors,’ he said as he rummaged in his briefcase. ‘I feel bad for them, but there’s nothing I can do. I suspect half of them are going to end up with ghastly Oiliver, poor things. But, Faith,’ he said as he flicked through his address book, ‘I feel bad about leaving, but I really had no choice. Charmaine and Oliver were out to destroy me, but now, thanks to Andy, I’m safe. I’m going to take Andy for lunch at the Ritz,’ he added as he reached for the phone.

      ‘Oh, yes,’ I said, ‘you must. He deserves it.’ But Peter was busy dialling a number and didn’t seem to hear what I’d said.

      ‘I’ll call Clare Barry first,’ he said.

      ‘You’ve got to call Jean, too. And darling that’s what I meant to tell you,’ I added. ‘I’ve got a confession to make.’

      ‘You have?’

      ‘Yes. The reason why I’ve been behaving so … stupidly. I’m really sorry. You see, I’d got this silly idea that you were seeing someone called Jean. But now I know that “Jean”, isn’t “Jean”. She’s Jean. Or rather he is. And I only realised that when Jean rang up today.’

      ‘Jean?’ Peter repeated. ‘Yes, Jean and I have been working on a deal. It was a really boring instant book about some minor French film star which Charmaine fobbed off on me. We were going to publish it simultaneously in Britain and France, so I’ve been talking to him quite a lot. But it’s so tedious, Faith, and I’ve been so preoccupied, I kept forgetting to phone him back. Oh hello, is that Clare?’ he said. ‘Clare, look, it’s Peter here … ’

      ‘Nothing?’ said Lily when I phoned to report. She sounded vaguely affronted. ‘Darling – are you quite sure?’

      ‘Yes,’ I said happily. ‘I’m sure.’

      ‘Nothing?’ she said again. ‘Zero?’

      ‘Not a thing,’ I confirmed.

      ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I see. So it was a case of trail and error.’

      ‘Yes,’ I said with a giggle. ‘It was. And I’m sorry about your article, Lily … ’

      ‘Well, yes … ’ She sounded a little depressed.

      ‘But the simple fact of the matter is that Peter hasn’t strayed.’

      ‘Mmm.’

      ‘I can’t believe I could have been so stupid,’ I went on. ‘I mean, why did I automatically assume that Jean was a woman?’

      ‘Because you’re still Faith Value,’ she sighed.

      ‘I know. Instead of thinking rationally, or doing a little lateral thinking, I became totally paranoid and insecure. I didn’t just jump to conclusions, Lily, I leaped to them with a pole-vault!’

      ‘Oh well,’ she added philosophically, ‘we can still interview you as a woman whose suspicions were proven groundless.’

      ‘So it’s not a complete waste of time and money?’

      ‘No, though obviously it would have been much better – I mean, better copy, obviously – if he’d been up to no good.’

      ‘Well, I’m glad he wasn’t,’ I said with a laugh. ‘Oh Lily, thank you so much for paying for it,’ I added. ‘And you did me a double favour there, because now my trust in Peter is even greater than it was before!’

      There was a sudden silence, broken only by the sound of Jennifer’s background grunting, and then I heard Lily say, ‘Faith, I’m so pleased it’s all worked out like this. And you know the last thing I’d want is to rain on your parade, but … ’

      ‘But what?’

      ‘There are still some unanswered questions.’

      ‘Are there?’ I said. ‘Like what?’

      ‘Well, those flowers,’ she said. ‘Were they really for that author?’

      ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I’m sure they were.’

      ‘And what about the chewing gum and cigarettes?’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I said airily. ‘To be honest I don’t really care. I’m sure there’s some perfectly innocent explanation, just as there was with Jean.’

      ‘Well, the only thing I’d say,’ she went on, ‘is that not many British people smoke Lucky Strike. In fact that’s an American brand.’

      ‘Then they must have been for Andy, his head hunter.’

      ‘Of course they must. But