Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Telephone calls are not the place for long conversations – you wouldn’t want to bore a good chap by going on and on! Keep chatter light, brief and to the point. Make sure your tone of voice is soft, alluring and interested.

Matilda Beam’s Good Woman Guide, 1959

As the final rays of blush-pink sun dip down over London, I make my way back to Kensington, a buzz of achievement quickening my step. I may have super messed up with the glove (which I later found in the bin, splodged with hot-dog juice and ketchup), and I definitely disliked every minute of having to speak to that sexist div Leo Frost again, but I did what I was asked to do: I made sure he absolutely didn’t recognize me and I got him to take my number. Plus I didn’t even have to read the whole chapter of Grandma’s book! Go me!

As I arrive at Bonham Square, I notice Jamie lumbering out of the front door of the building, talking animatedly on his mobile phone. His doctor’s coat is slung over his arm and he’s wearing a faded khaki T-shirt that says ‘Abernathy Canal Centre’ on it above a picture of a barge.

When I reach him, he does a slapstick double-take at my outfit, signalling that he’ll be finished in just a moment.

‘All right then, snotface.’ He smiles into the phone. ‘Love you all the world. See you soon.’

‘Snotface?’ I raise an eyebrow once he’s hung up.

‘My nephew, Charlie. He’s seven.’ His dark eyes sparkle. ‘Look.’ He hands me his phone on which there’s a picture of a skinny young kid in a Leeds United football kit. ‘He’s coming to visit me this weekend. Brilliant little bugger, isn’t he?’

‘Adorable,’ I nod vaguely, even though, to me, Charlie looks pretty much like every other seven-year-old-boy on the planet.

‘He’s bloody obsessed with science,’ Jamie chuckles proudly. ‘I bought him one of those kids’ chemistry sets for his birthday last year and it’s his favourite thing. Well, after the Wii. And farts.’

‘Oh. Cool.’

Jamie’s smile drops a bit. It’s not that I don’t want to hear all about his kid nephew. Well, actually, I don’t, really. But it’s just … what’s the point? Family talk is for people in relationships, a way to bond by revealing intimate life details and shared experiences. And that’s not what’s happening here.

‘Nice outfit.’ Jamie gives me a pointed look.

I do a daft twirl. ‘It’s for Grandma’s project. Stoopid, I know. I’m wearing a chuffing corset.’

‘A corset, eh? Well, yes, that is ridiculous. Also … kind of bloody sexy.’ He takes a step closer so that we’re only centimetres apart.

‘It’s actually mega painful,’ I huff. ‘Anyway, Doctor, we shouldn’t be fraternizing. My Grandma has forbidden me from seeing you again . . . ’ He frowns slightly. I grin. ‘But … I reckon what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.’

‘Aha.’ He steps closer, wrapping an arm round my restricted waist. ‘Are you suggesting we run around in secret? Conduct an, um, elicit affair?’

‘Something like that . . . ’ I wiggle my eyebrows. ‘Could be hot . . . ’

‘Would you like to start right now?’ He trails his warm hand up my back, sending a shiver right to the pit of my stomach. ‘The clinic’s empty. We could get you out of that corset, if you like?’

‘Oh God, yes please.’ I rub my stomach in anticipation of the beautiful moment when I will be able to fully breathe out once more.

‘Come on, then,’ Jamie whispers, holding out his hand and glancing up and down the street with an over-the-top worried expression. ‘Before someone spots us out here.’

He’s such a plonker. I laugh and take his hand, dragging him inside to the clinic.

* * *

Carrying my plethora of vintage underwear in my arms (including the tights Jamie ended up ripping in his eagerness to get them off me), I sneak back up to Grandma’s house at midnight, being careful to let myself in stealthily so as not to wake anyone. The house smells really strongly of popcorn. That’s odd. I’m far too knackered to remove my make-up and so simply flop onto to the bed fully clothed, where I pass out in a matter of seconds.

It feels like my eyes have only been closed for a few minutes when I’m awoken by a firm knock on the bedroom door.

It’s morning already?

Noooo.

Grandma’s voice is bright and breezy from the landing.

‘Jessica, dear, rise and shine! We are most eager to hear all about last night! Breakfast is ready. Peach and I will be waiting downstairs. Do hurry!’

‘Mnnghg.’ I turn over to where Mr Belding is curled up beside me, purring like he doesn’t even care that it’s crap o’clock in the morning. ‘You go downstairs, make an excuse for me will you, Mr Belding?’ I ask him. ‘Take one for the team, eh?’

In response he puts his cold nose against my nose and swipes his paw at my face.

Gad, why can’t anyone just let me have a tiny little lie-in? Why? WHY?

With a sigh, I reluctantly climb out of the bed, change into tracksuit bottoms and a blue cotton vest and trudge downstairs. I blearily make my way into the kitchen and, plonking down at the huge oak table, pour myself a black coffee from the pot.

‘How did it go?

‘Was Mr Frost charmed and bewitched by you?’

‘Did he take your number?’

‘Where are my gloves?’

I am bombarded by questions. I take a huge gulp of coffee and rub my eyes. Then I do a really long stretch and a massive yawn just to wind them up.

‘What happened, Jess?’

‘Tell us, for heaven’s sake!’

I raise an eyebrow. ‘Oh, you know,’ I say nonchalantly, putting the coffee cup back on the table. ‘Gave him my digits, didn’t I?’

Peach laughs out loud in astonishment. Grandma tries to look unsurprised and cool but completely fails. Her eyes sparkle with excitement and two spots of pink brighten her high-boned pale cheeks. ‘Which of my Good Woman tips was it, Jessica?’ she asks. ‘Which one worked?’

I bite my lip. I can’t bloody tell her that I totally failed at dropping the glove. She’ll probably start crying again. Instead I say:

‘The glove! I dropped it and sauntered past Leo just like the book said to and he came right over. It was, um, it was like magic.’

She claps her hands together. ‘And you managed not to curse?’

‘I didn’t even say shit. I was the very image of a demure woman.’

I tell them about the whole night, how I called myself Lucille Darling, about Leo asking to take me for a drink and how I said I had a ‘prior engagement’. I conveniently leave out that I pretty much made a mess of it and the fact that he took my number was probably a fluke and nothing to do with Grandma’s tips, possibly more to do with my unavoidable boobs and most amazing dodgems driving.

‘I hope he rings soon,’ Peach mumbles, spooning Tesco Value cornflakes into her mouth.

‘Oh, he will,’ Grandma tell us confidently. ‘Though we will probably have to wait a few days.’ She chuckles in a knowing way. ‘Men do not like to diminish their power by telephoning a lady immediately, lest they appear over-eager.’

As it turns out, Matilda Beam is completely wrong on that one. Because just twenty minutes later my phone rings. And it’s Leo Frost.

* * *

Grandma and Peach hurry over to join me on the sofa as I press answer on my iPhone.

‘Hello?’

‘Good morning, Lucille. This is Leo Frost speaking.’

Leo Frost. Artist. Thinker. Man. On the phone.

‘Hi there, Leo,’ I say in the low, soothing voice. ‘How terrific to hear from you. I do hope you enjoyed the funfair last … ’

I abruptly stop talking as I notice Grandma and Peach staring at me in horror. They gesticulate wildly, waving their hands up and down like mad people. What’s wrong? What are they trying to say?

‘Excuse me, Leo, please hold the line for just a moment.’

I press the secrecy button. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Your voice! What on earth has happened to your voice?’ Grandma’s chin trembles.

‘Er … it’s a soothing voice. Like you said? Throaty and that.’

‘It’s much too deep! A soothing voice should be light and enticing!’

‘What doI sound like?’

Peach grimaces, not quite meeting my eye. ‘You sound sorta demonic. Like you might be planning to murder him.’

Grandma pats my knee. ‘Soften it a little, dear. Speak to him as if you’re keeping a scrumptious secret.’

I nod, clear my throat and try again, making my voice softer, higher and more melodic. I sound like a twat.

‘Sorry about that, Leo,’ I breathe, clicking the phone onto loudspeaker. Grandma gives me a thumbs-up. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Yeah, I thought we could get together. I have a dinner meeting this evening but I’m free as a bird afterwards. Coffee at my pad sound good? About eleven?’

Oh. My. God. I am well versed in the art of the bootie call and this is an outright boot-ay call. I didn’t put out any of my usual super casual vibes last night, I’m sure of it. Must have been the boobs sending out a very specific kind of message. I don’t know why I’m surprised − according to Valentina this is Leo Frost’s M.O., after all.

‘Just a moment, let me check my schedule.’ I press secrecy on the phone again.

‘He’s bootie-calling me,’ I hiss to Grandma and Peach

‘Bootie calling?’ Grandma squints. ‘I’m afraid I don’t understand.’

Hmmm. How do you explain a bootie call to a seventy-seven-year-old woman who still watches her movies on VHS tapes?

‘Er … he’s not quite offering to take me on a date. I reckon he wants me to go to his place for … you know … ’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Um, well, let’s just say that he wants to do to me what Oliver the gamekeeper does to Lady Chatterley.’

Grandma’s mouth drops open. She snatches the phone from my grasp and presses her bony finger onto the ‘end call’ icon.

‘What did you just do!’ I yell, grabbing my phone off her. ‘You hung up on him!’

‘He’s a cad, dear,’ Grandma declares, calmly pushing her big red glasses up her nose. ‘A very handsome, very wealthy and charming cad. Women don’t hang up on him – the very fact that you just did will intrigue him, trust me. When he calls back, tell him that you would love to meet him for an early dinner tomorrow evening – he won’t correct you about his original dishonourable intentions, his manners are far too polished for that.’

‘He won’t blummin’ call back!’ I roll my eyes. ‘This isn’t the olden days, G. It isn’t cute or intriguing or flirty when you hang up. It just pisses people off.’

The phone rings again.

It’s him.

I blink at my mobile and eye Grandma with astonishment. She casually examines her perfectly painted fingernails as if this is no big deal.

‘Woah.’ Peach gawps at the phone.

I pick it up.

‘Hello?’

‘Ah, Lucille, we must have got cut off,’ Leo says in his deep plummy tones.

‘Oh dear, I’m so sorry about that. I got distracted and completely forgot you were on the telephone!’ I giggle warmly. Grandma beams.

‘Oh,’ he coughs lightly. ‘Right.’

‘Now, about dinner. I’m available early evening tomorrow, I hope that suits? I’m sure a gentleman like you knows the most wonderful places to take a girl.’

I wait for him to explain that he wasn’t exactly asking me out on a date. But he doesn’t. Grandma was right. She was completely right! He’s too well brought up to overtly correct my ‘mistake’, especially since I just referred to him as a gentleman.

‘Um … yes, well. I wasn’t … Yes, OK. I suppose early evening … could work?’

‘Divine,’ I purr down the phone. ‘I’m already looking forward to it.’

Like. A. Boss.

Completely oblivious to the cunning trickery that has just been performed upon him, one Leo Frost agrees to take one Lucille Darling for an early dinner date tomorrow evening.

I click off the phone and hold my hand out to Grandma for a high-five. She thinks I’m waving at her and waves back, a confused expression on her bespectacled face. Thankfully, Peach dives over, slaps my hand and saves the high-five. Phew.

It’s on. It’s on like donkey kong.