I brought Dean Martin. He was a useful distraction from my vague sense of anxiety. Michael sat beside me in the limousine and Dean Martin glared at him and at the back of the driver’s seat simultaneously. I sat in silence, wondering what on earth Mr Gopnik was going to do now. If he had decided to press charges surely he would have sent the police, rather than his car. Had he waited deliberately until Margot had gone? Had he uncovered other things I was about to be blamed for? I thought of Steven Lipkott and the pregnancy test and wondered what my response would be if he asked point blank what I knew. Will had always said I had the worst poker face. I practised in my head, I know nothing, until Michael shot me a sharp look and I realized I’d started saying it out loud.
We were discharged in front of a huge glass building. Michael walked briskly through the cavernous, marble-clad lobby, but I refused to hurry and instead let Dean Martin amble along at his own pace even though I could tell it infuriated Michael. He collected a pass from security, handed it to me, then directed me towards a separate lift near the back of the lobby – Mr Gopnik was plainly too important to travel up and down with the rest of his staff.
We went up to the forty-sixth floor, travelling at a speed that made my eyes bulge almost as much as Dean Martin’s, and I tried to hide the slight wobble in my legs as I stepped out into the hushed silence of the offices. A secretary, immaculately dressed in a tailored suit and spiked heels, did a double-take at me – I guessed they didn’t get too many people dressed in 1970s emerald Ossie Clark trouser suits with red satin trim, clutching furious small dogs. I followed Michael along a corridor to another office, in which sat another woman, also immaculately dressed in her office uniform.
‘I have Miss Clark to see Mr Gopnik, Diane,’ he said.
She nodded, and lifted a phone, murmuring something into it. ‘He’ll see you now,’ she said, with a small smile.
Michael pointed me towards the door. ‘Do you want me to take the dog?’ he said. He was plainly desperate for me not to take the dog.
‘No. Thank you,’ I said, holding Dean Martin a little tighter to me.
The door opened and there stood Leonard Gopnik in his shirtsleeves.
‘Thank you for agreeing to see me,’ he said, closing the door behind him. He gestured towards a seat on the other side of the desk and walked slowly around it. I noticed his limp was pronounced and wondered what Nathan was doing with him. He always was too discreet to discuss it.
I said nothing.
He sat down heavily in his chair. He looked tired, I noticed, the expensive tan unable to hide the shadows under his eyes, the strain lines at their edges.
‘You’re taking your duties very seriously,’ he said, gesturing at the dog.
‘I always do,’ I said, and he nodded, as if that were a fair comeback.
Then he leant forward over the desk and steepled his fingers. ‘I’m not someone, Louisa, used to finding myself lost for words, but … I confess I am right now. I discovered something two days ago. Something which has left me rather shaken.’
He looked up at me. I looked steadily back at him, my expression a study in neutrality.
‘My daughter Tabitha had become … suspicious about some things she’d heard and put a private investigator on the case. This is not something I’m particularly happy about – we are not, as a family, prone to investigating each other. But when she told me what the gentleman had found, it was not something I could ignore. I talked to Agnes about it and she has told me everything.’
I waited.
‘The child.’
‘Oh,’ I said.
He sighed. ‘During these rather – extensive discussions, she also explained about the piano, the money for which, I understand, you were under instruction to remove in increments, day by day, from a nearby ATM.’
‘Yes, Mr Gopnik,’ I said.
He lowered his head as if he had hoped against hope that I might dispute the facts, tell him it was all nonsense, that the private investigator was talking rubbish.
Finally he sat back heavily in his chair. ‘We appear to have done you a great wrong, Louisa.’
‘I’m not a thief, Mr Gopnik.’
‘Plainly. And yet, out of loyalty to my wife, you were prepared to let me believe you were.’
I wasn’t sure if it was a criticism. ‘I didn’t feel like I had a choice.’
‘Oh, you did. You absolutely did.’
We sat in the cool office in silence for a few moments. He tapped on his desk with his fingers.
‘Louisa, I have spent much of the night trying to figure out how I can put this situation right. And I’d like to make you an offer.’
I waited.
‘I’d like to give you your job back. You will, of course, receive better terms – longer holidays, a pay rise, significantly improved benefits. If you would rather not live on site, we can arrange accommodation nearby.’
‘A job?’
‘Agnes hasn’t found anyone she likes half as much as she liked you. You have more than proven yourself, and I’m immensely grateful for your … loyalty and your continued discretion. The girl we took on after you has been … well, she’s not up to it. Agnes doesn’t like her. She considered you more of … of a friend.’
I looked down at the dog. He looked up at me. He seemed distinctly unimpressed. ‘Mr Gopnik, that’s very flattering but I don’t think I would feel comfortable working as Agnes’s assistant now.’
‘There are other positions, positions within my organization. I understand that you do not have another job yet.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘There’s not a lot goes on in my building that I don’t know about, Louisa. Usually, at least.’ He allowed himself a wry smile. ‘Look, we have openings in our marketing and administrative departments. I could ask Human Resources to bypass certain entry requirements and we could offer you training. Or I would be prepared to create a position in my philanthropic arm if you felt that was something you were interested in. What do you say?’ He sat back, one arm on his desk, his ebonized pen loose in his hand.
An image of this alternative life swam before my eyes – me, dressed in a suit, headed to work each day in these vast glass offices. Louisa Clark, earning a big salary, living somewhere I could afford. A New Yorker. Not looking after anyone, for once, just pushing upwards, the sky limitless above me. It would be a whole new life, a real shot at the American Dream.
I thought of my family’s pride if I said yes.
I thought of a scruffy warehouse downtown, filled to the brim with other people’s old clothes. ‘Mr Gopnik, again, I’m very flattered. But I don’t think so.’
His expression hardened. ‘So you do want money.’
I blinked.
‘We live in a litigious society, Louisa. I am conscious that you hold highly sensitive information about my family. If it’s a lump sum you’re after, we’ll talk about it. I can bring my lawyer into the discussion.’ He leant over and put his finger on the intercom. ‘Diane, can you –’
It was at this point that I stood. I lowered Dean Martin gently to the floor. ‘Mr Gopnik, I don’t want your money. If I’d wanted to sue you or – or make money from your secrets I would have done it weeks ago, when I was left without a job or anywhere to live. You’ve misjudged me now as you misjudged me back then. And I’d like to leave now.’
He took his finger off the phone. ‘Please … sit. I didn’t mean to offend you.’ He motioned to the chair. ‘Please, Louisa. I need to get this matter sorted out.’
He didn’t trust me. I saw now that Mr Gopnik lived in a world where money and status were prized so far above everything else that it was inconceivable to him that somebody wouldn’t try to extract some, given the opportunity.
‘You want me to sign something,’ I said coolly.
‘I want to know your price.’
And then it occurred to me. Perhaps I did have one, after all.
I sat down again, and after a moment I told him, and for the first time in the nine months that we’d met, he looked properly surprised. ‘That’s what you want?’
‘That’s what I want. I don’t care how you do it.’
He leant back in his chair, and placed his hands behind his head. He looked off to the side, thinking for a moment, then turned back to me. ‘I rather wish you would come back and work for me, Louisa Clark,’ he said. And then he smiled, for the first time, and reached across the desk to shake my hand.