10
“Would you just stop wailing about it for a second?” Bella says and gets up to grab another wad of toilet paper from the bathroom. “If you hang on a minute I'll go and see if there's a hair shirt hanging in my wardrobe.”
“But I feel so guilty,” Julia wails a bit more. “I can't believe I did that to Mark. I can't believe I've been unfaithful.”
“Darling.” Bella sits down next to her, hands her the toilet paper, and when Julia has finished sniffling into it again, Bella takes her hands firmly. “First of all, you haven't been unfaithful, it was only a kiss, for heaven's sake, not full-blown sex. More to the point, I think now is the time for you to realize that Mark and you are not, how shall I put this . . . meant to be?”
Julia looks up at her and sniffs.
“The pair of you have been ridiculously unhappy for years, and that whole baby obsession was because you were so unfulfilled you needed another focus and you thought a baby would somehow make everything okay again, but the fact is you and Mark are completely incompatible.”
Julia gasps. “I can't believe you just said that.”
“I know.” Bella looks shocked. “Neither can I. But Julia, you are the only one who hasn't been able to see how different you both are and how unhappy you've both become.”
“But that's just a temporary phase.”
“A three-year temporary phase?”
“It hasn't been that long . . . has it?”
Bella nods. “Perhaps I shouldn't say this but since you've been here I've seen the old Julia again, and I've missed her so much. We all have. You were always the life and soul of the party, always happy, always smiling, but since you've been living with Mark you've been so unhappy.
“And I don't think Mark's a bad person. Really I don't. But you rattle around in that ridiculously huge house of his, and I know you're not at home there, and you don't seem to have anything in common. All those times I phone and you say you're staying in watching television, and you never used to stay in, God, your flat was just the base for your answering machine and a place to lay your head, and not even that very often in those days.”
Julia smiles fondly at the memories and then shrugs. “I was young then,” she says. “We all were. Life is very different now. We have responsibilities . . .”
“That's rubbish,” Bella says firmly. “Look at me. I'm out every night, I have my own apartment, great friends, a string of men to call on should I feel in the mood for sex. I'm thirty-three years old and I still party with the best of them, and you know what? I love my life. There is absolutely nothing in my life I would change.”
“So you'd be happy to be on your own for the rest of your life?” Julia's fascinated.
“Once upon a time I would have said the thought of spending the rest of my life on my own was terrifying, but you know what? Now I'm not so sure. I don't have to compromise for anyone, I don't have to stop doing what I want to do because my partner doesn't feel like it. And I know I've been accused of being selfish, but so what? I am absolutely happy with my life exactly as it is right now. Can you say the same thing?”
“I'm happy right now,” Julia says firmly, reluctant to face the truth, but Bella pushes.
“Right now you are. You're in New York and living the life of a single woman. But are you happy living with Mark in London? Are you happy in that house? Is a baby really what you want? Is Mark really what you want?”
Julia doesn't say anything.
“Okay. Put it like this. If you weren't able to have a baby at all, would you still want to stay with Mark for the rest of your life?”
Julia still doesn't say anything, but after a few seconds she shakes her head sadly, still too frightened to say it out loud, to admit it to Bella, to make it real.
“Julia, I know you thought you wanted marriage and babies, but have you ever stopped to think that maybe you're not ready for that? Maybe you made a decision and felt that you had to stick with it, even though your life had moved in a completely different direction.”
Julia looks at Bella, pain in her eyes, and her voice emerges in a whisper. “But I'm so scared of being on my own.”
“Oh, Julia.” Bella puts an arm around her and squeezes her. “I know it must be scary when you've been with someone for years, but look at how alive you've felt since being here, look at how happy you've been. That's what your life could be like again. It's not so bad, is it? Is it?” She nudges Julia until she gets a smile. “See? You could be my new partner in crime. You've already committed your first offense with Jack.”
“Jack,” Julia moans. “What am I going to do about Jack?”
“What do you want to do about Jack?”
Julia shrugs.
“Tell me again how you left it?”
“He asked if he could see me again and I said he should call me.”
“Well, then. No point worrying about something that hasn't even happened yet. Let's cross that bridge when we come to it, but one question . . . Do you want to see him again?”
Julia hesitates, then nods with a faint grin as she reluctantly admits, “That kiss did send a shiver down to my toes.”
“That's as good a reason as any. So when he calls you'll say yes.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“It is simple,” Bella is exasperated. “It's what being single is all about. In the meantime it's now one o'clock in the morning and you're supposed to be coming to the office with me tomorrow, so both of us need to get some beauty sleep.” She leans over and kisses Julia on the cheek. “I'm glad you had such a special evening. Sleep well and see you in the morning.”
“Do we have to go to the gym?” Julia moans, just as Bella's shutting her bedroom door.
“Of course we have to go to the gym,” Bella shouts back from behind the closed door. “It's our new religion, for heaven's sake.”
“Congratulations, my darling!” Bella lifts her champagne flute in a toast. “Welcome to BCA!”
“This just feels so ridiculous,” Julia says. “I can't believe I came out here for a spot of rest, relaxation, and shopping, and now I'm working.”
“This, remember, is the land of opportunity,” Bella laughs. “Not to mention the land of reinvention. You can be anyone you want to be, why do you think I love it so much?”
“But you haven't reinvented yourself.”
“Julia, everyone at work thinks I'm Lady Bella Redford.”
Julia starts to giggle. “Tell me you're joking.”
“Of course I'm not joking. If I'd known how helpful a title was in opening doors I'd have invented one years ago.”
“I can't believe you.”
“Why not? You could be one too.”
“I think I'll just stick to being your lady-in-waiting.”
“I didn't really think anyone would take it seriously,” Bella lowers her voice and leans forward confidentially. “I was having a row with one of the other producers and she said ‘Bella!' in this really nasally condescending way, and without even thinking I shot back, ‘That's Lady Bella to you,' and the next thing I knew the whole bloody office was calling me ‘Lady Bella.' I had to spend the next two weeks graciously telling everyone that it wasn't quite the done thing to address me as ‘Lady Bella,' and that I only used it for formal functions, and calling me ‘Bella' would be fine.”
“You really are outrageous,” Julia laughs.
“I know. Just pray no one lands their grubby paws on a copy of Debrett's. So how did you find today? What did you think of the office, and, more importantly, what did you think of everyone in the office? I've been dying to do the postmortem with you all day.”
“God, where do I start?” Julia smiles and wearily lays her head back against the sofa. It's been a long day, and she's tired, and she never thought it would feel this good to be back in an office again.
They had arrived at BCA that morning when the live show had just started. Outside the building were streams of black limousines with tinted windows and uniformed drivers. Clusters of young interns stood around with walkie-talkies, barking instructions to unseen colleagues, managing to switch on the charm when a new limo drew up and out stepped an important guest for the show.
Bella seemed to know everyone they passed along the corridors. They walked through large open-plan offices as people stopped to smile, wave, or shout a quick hello. Every now and then Bella would actually stop and introduce Julia, who was welcomed warmly, before they moved on.
And on to the other side of the building, where they stepped into a lift and took it to the twentieth floor.
“This is where all the boring stuff gets done,” Bella confessed, stepping out of the lift as she chucked her coffee carton into a bin. “The studios are on the first floor, so I'll take you down there soon to get a feel for that.” She checked her watch. “There's a video tape slot at eleven, so we can go down then and you'll meet Carrie and Bill.”
Julia nods, following Bella mutely as she tries to take it all in. Bella has arranged an empty office in which Julia can watch all the videos of the previous party strands during the morning, but first she takes her in to meet Rob Friedman, the producer of the show.
He's charming, affable, and frighteningly young. He shakes Julia's hand warmly and welcomes her to the team, and tells her he's very impressed with her resume and that she should come see him if there's anything she needs. Anything at all.
“Is that it?” Julia whispers as she and Bella leave his office thirty seconds later. “Doesn't he want to talk to me anymore? Find out who I am, whether I'm good enough?”
“Darling, I wouldn't have recommended you if you weren't good enough. I told you there was nothing to worry about.”
Bella settles Julia into the office, and by ten to eleven, when she returns to take her to the studios, Julia's watched what feels like a hundred videos. She yawns, stretches, and turns to Bella with a shake of her head. “If my career ever dies, I'd make a killing as a party organizer thanks to all this bloody stuff you've made me watch.”
“But you have an idea of what we're doing?”
Julia laughs. “Of course. It's easy as pie. I just need to see the schedule for next week and meet the team. But if I ever have to look at another piece of sushi I think I might have to scream.”
By the end of the afternoon she's met the team, read through the schedules, reconfirmed the time and the guest list with the woman who's holding the first baby shower at which they're filming, and spoken to all of the various experts who'll be giving opinions.
She's exhausted and exhilarated. She's fueled herself with strong black coffee all day and is delighted that she can work at this pace without feeling stressed.
At eight-thirty that evening she and Julia are sitting in the bar at the end of the block, drinking champagne.
And with a start Julia understands why working here feels so very different from the work she was doing at home. It's not the job. It's not even New York.
It's simply that the passion has come back.
The passion for work and the passion for life. She's rediscovered her zest for living, and it feels “fanf*ckingtastic,” she tells Bella.
“And how about passion for Jack?” Bella teases.
Julia mimics Bella's voice perfectly. “Darling, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday fly by. Julia's so busy she barely has time to think. On Monday they filmed a baby shower in a pretty house in New Rochelle. Heavily pregnant Jodie could barely contain her excitement at being on BCA, even when Julia's team of experts moved in and rearranged every piece of furniture in her house.
“Jodie, honey,” said Sally, the interior designer, who was proving you could create a stylish and comfortable atmosphere in even the smallest of homes, “your walls just aren't working for me. You mind if we quickly paint them?” Jodie shrugged and nodded as Sally's two painters appeared and laid down dust sheets. Within an hour the entire room was painted, and Sally was right, it was transformed.
Julia had never known anything in television to happen so calmly and efficiently. At three in the afternoon all Jodie's friends arrived, bearing gifts, and the filming was a breeze.
On Tuesday they moved to Riverdale to discuss recipes with George the chef, who was full of clever ideas: pink and blue heart-shaped cookies; nutritious spring rolls folded over to look like a blanket in a crib; pacifiers made of two Life Savers—stuck together with a jelly bean in the middle and a ribbon attached.
Wednesday they filmed at a smart penthouse apartment on 68th and Park. The wife was married to a wealthy banker, and, despite her apparent joy at the impending arrival of their first baby, Julia had the distinct impression that she never saw her husband. All the money in the world—they clearly had a significant chunk of it—couldn't alleviate a deep unhappiness. This was only confirmed when her friends arrived, all of them stick-thin with tiny bellies, immaculately groomed and dressed in exquisite clothes, terrified of putting on any excess weight in case their husbands might find them unattractive and leave them for a younger, thinner model.
Thursday was Elle and Uma, both of whom were professional and charming, neither of whom were, Julia realized, destined to become her best friends, but nonetheless it was an enormous thrill to be leaning against the windowsill in Elle Macpherson's apartment, watching her play with her little boy as she talked about her own baby shower.
Friday was the final day of filming. Out in Great Neck, Long Island, it was a thirty-five-year-old woman who had published a book of her friends' tips, given to her at her own baby shower, and then collected at subsequent baby showers. Her baby, Alicia, was now eighteen months old. Julia fell in love at first sight.
Alicia followed Julia around during filming, toddling awkwardly over to her, holding out her arms and demanding cuddles. If Julia sat down, Alicia would put her little arms around Julia's legs and lean her head on her thigh, sucking her thumb as she watched all the mayhem in her mother's house.
She was divine. Julia picked her up and cuddled her and covered her with kisses as she squealed and giggled.
“I can't believe how much she's taken to you.” Jackie—Alicia's mother—smiled fondly as Julia played with her daughter. “You said you didn't have children, but you look like you're really ready.”
Julia put Alicia down gently on the floor and smiled at Jackie. “You know what? I thought I was really ready too. I tried for nearly a year to get pregnant with my partner, but it didn't happen.”
“Oh, I'm so sorry.” Jackie is mortified.
“Don't be. I'm not. I thought at the time that the only thing that mattered to me was having a baby, but now I know it wasn't the right time. And it wasn't the right man.”
Jackie nods. “Your husband?”
“No. My long-term boyfriend.”
“I take it you're no longer together?”
“Not really. I came to New York just to get some space, but I've realized it's not working anymore. I know he knows it too, we just have to sit down and say the words out loud to one another.”
“That's tough.” Jackie nods thoughtfully. “But you know, you can't underestimate the importance of a strong relationship when you have children. I know too many people who've tried to use a child to steady a rocky relationship, and all it does is throw it off balance completely.”
“Did you have a strong relationship with your husband?”
“Thank God, yes, or we wouldn't have survived it. Nobody can really make you understand what the first year is like when you have a child. They tell you but you just can't understand until you go through it. The sleepless nights, the feeling of being trapped, the loss of self. I hated my husband for the first year. I resented him not understanding what I did. He'd go to work every day and then come back and just want to read the paper, and I'd be furious, because I'd been with the baby all day and up most of the night, and I knew he could never be as exhausted as me.
“I was way too tired to have sex, and we spent a year bickering and being nasty to one another. I'd lie in bed every night thinking, There's always divorce.”
“It sounds horrific.”
“It was. But you know what? Almost every new mother I know goes through the same thing. They all had a horrific first year, and none of them was prepared. All I can tell you is we nearly split up, and we have a strong relationship. There's no way we would have made it had we had basic problems in our marriage in the first place.”
“So what happened?”
“Amazingly we had a turning point toward the end of the first year. I guess it helped that Alicia started sleeping through the night. We both started to catch up on sleep, and we found the time to sit down and talk to one another. We were so busy trying to convince the other one how we were having the harder time, we'd stopped listening to one another.”
“And now?”
“Now I love my husband again. I remember why I married him, and I wouldn't change it for the world.”
Julia sits in silence for a few seconds, digesting what Jackie has just said. Eventually she looks up. “Your daughter is the most divine baby I think I've ever met, and seeing her makes my heart ache, but I also know that you're right. It's not enough for me to be ready to have a baby. My life has to be working and I have to be with the right man. And the truth is I'm not even sure I'm ready.”
“Right.” Jackie nods. “You're suffering from Grandparent Syndrome.”
“Grandparent Syndrome?”
“Uh-huh. You picture a baby and you think of the closeness and the cuteness and how wonderful it would be, but you don't think of the fact that you can't just hand them back at the end of the day. That's it. Hello baby, bye bye life.”
“You're right,” Julia laughs. “I've definitely been suffering Grandparent Syndrome, but, having heard you, I now never want a child.”
Jackie's face falls. “Please tell me you're joking.”
“Don't worry,” Julia laughs as Alicia toddles over and holds her arms out to her. “I'm joking.”
It's a typical New York day. Cold and bright, just getting ready for spring. Julia scuffs her boots along the path and digs deep in her pockets as she walks through the park to the Boathouse.
“I'm not supposed to see you again,” she says as she approaches Jack, who is casually leaning against a tree by the entrance.
“You had that bad a time at Orsay?” He raises an eyebrow, unfazed by her direct approach, for he has, after all, been trying to reach her for nearly two weeks, and is delighted she's here at all.
He has left countless messages, both at home and at work, and finally resorted to turning up at her building this morning and refusing to leave unless she came down and talked to him.
She wouldn't come down—hung over and looking dreadful—but agreed to meet him later in the afternoon in Central Park. She has—thanks to the good old British cure of a fry-up (actually not very British at all, as there was probably more fat to be found in Julia's teeth than on her plate at the restaurant this morning)—recovered from her hangover, and has pulled her hair back into a sleek ponytail, eyes shaded from the sun by a large pair of tortoiseshell sunglasses.
Julia sighs deeply. She still feels guilty about Mark. She shouldn't even be thinking about other men, not until things are resolved with him, but she has tried to avoid Jack, and really it's not her fault he's been so persistent.
It doesn't help that he's turned up looking all tall and sparkly-eyed and sexy. Oh no. It doesn't help at all.
“I had a wonderful time at Orsay.”
“But of course I knew that,” Jack says. “That's why you've returned all my calls.” Julia starts to apologize but Jack stops her. “Come on. Let's get a table.” They walk through the restaurant and outside to the riverbank. A few brave souls are dotted around, but it's far too cold for the Boathouse to be busy, and Jack leads the way to a table halfway between the bar and the edge of the river.
“I'll just go and get drinks,” he says, without asking Julia what she wants, and a couple of minutes later comes back from the bar with two steaming mugs of spiced wine.
“Here.” He hands her a mug and she gratefully wraps her hands around it. “This will keep out the cold.” They sit awhile, sipping slowly, and eventually Jack speaks. “If you had such a wonderful time at Orsay, why have you made it so hard to see you again, and more to the point, why are you not supposed to see me again?”
“I have . . .” Julia looks at him, then looks away, knowing she has to tell the truth but not sure how to say it. “. . . I have an unresolved situation.”
“Ah.” Jack nods slowly. “I have to say I did have a feeling it might be something like that. You're married, aren't you?”
“God, no!” The vehemence in her voice startles him.
“So what is it, then?”
And out comes the whole story.
Two hours later Julia tails off. She's told him about her life before Mark; about then moving in with him and knowing that her life would now be mapped out: marriage, babies, although not necessarily in that order. She's told him about her increasing unhappiness; about Mark and her growing so far apart it wouldn't be possible for them to find their way back. She's talked about her obsession with children; about needing a baby to repair her relationship; and she has talked about coming to New York and finding herself again. About knowing that it really is over with Mark, but not knowing how to tell him.
And now she sits back and looks at him, waiting for his response, because even though she hardly knows him, even though this is only the third time she's met him, he is someone she'd like to get to know better.
Although having just poured her heart out, she feels this is unlikely.
Jack doesn't say anything for a while. He looks out at the lake for a few minutes, then turns to her.
“So what about New York? Are you staying?”
Julia nods. “For a while. I've been in the edit suite for the last week and the editor's now seen some of the stuff we shot and he's happy. They've offered me more work, on a freelance basis, but I figure it won't do my CV any harm to have worked for BCA. And I know this sounds nuts, but I'm happy here. Maybe just because it's the place where I've rediscovered who I am, but whatever the reason I feel very settled. Comfortable. A two-bedroom apartment's come up in Bella's building, and we're going to take it. So, yes.” She shrugs. “For the moment I'm staying.”
“I would imagine, from everything you've told me, that a relationship is the very last thing on your mind right now, but I would also guess that you could do with a friend.”
Julia suppresses a sharp pang of disappointment and covers it with a nod. “Friends. That sounds perfect.”
“Good,” Jack says, grinning, as he holds out his hand to shake on it. “Friends.” Julia puts her hand in his and they shake firmly, smiling at one another.
And they keep holding on to one another's hands. Their smiles fade as Julia's heart beats a little faster.
“Seeing as we're friends,” Jack says quietly, moving his head closer as he cups her chin in his hand and draws her head closer, “do you think it's okay if we do this?” He kisses her softly on the lips. Once. Twice. Three times. Pulling back slightly to check this is okay, he sees her eyes remain closed, her head inclined, and he smiles as he moves forward and kisses her again.
“Oh yes,” sighs Julia, when they finally break apart, as she smiles from ear to ear. “I'd say that's exactly what friendship is all about.”