‘I’ve spoken to Sean and he wants to know what else Cavendish Pictures might be able to do for us.’
There was her reward, and this time the relief was sweeter. Times had been hard for the independent production industry the last couple of years and Laura needed a new commission. Sean was the head of drama and had the power to greenlight. The fact he wanted to work with her again was very good news indeed.
‘Do you have anything you want to chat to us about?’
Laura thought about her ideas slate; there were a couple of new ones she had already earmarked to pitch to ITV. ‘Yes.’
‘Fantastic! Can you send over some treatments?’
‘Of course.’
‘And we’d like to set a meet, just the three of us.’
‘Great.’ Laura pulled out her iPhone as Alison did the same. Tap, tap, stroke.
‘He’s rather busy until next month, so shall we say 18 July?’
‘Here?’
‘We’ll take you to lunch.’
‘Lovely! Look forward to it.’
That settled, Alison pushed aside her phone. All the news had been delivered and the meeting came to a natural close. More kisses and exchanges of ‘Fantastic working with you’ and Laura made her way back onto the street. She glanced at her watch – almost three o’clock. She decided not to trek all the way back to her Covent Garden office. It was too hot; the heatwave had been in the news this morning and she knew it was thirty-two degrees in London. The afternoons were always the worst, when the dust and the fumes seemed to envelop you and stick to your skin. Instead, she called her PA to say she’d be working from home for the rest of the day. Hailing a black cab, she jumped in.
Once they hit Kensington, the traffic was as usual snarled with the school run and her driver took a shortcut down Gloucester Road. Laura had been running through her mind all the projects she could pitch to Alison and Sean, and had been unaware of her route until now. She looked out of the window and, seeing where she was, sat up in her seat. There it was, on the corner of Old Brompton Road, blue-and-brown signage. It came closer and closer, and then just a few metres before they got there, she called through the glass, ‘You can drop me off here, thanks.’
She paid and waited for the cab to drive off, then made her way along the pavement to Highsmith & Brown.
Laura stood not quite in front of the window and looked in at an angle, pretending to check the photos of exclusive properties displayed in front but really trying to see the personnel in the office behind. A combination of the reflections on the window, her position and the fact she was still wearing her sunglasses made it difficult to see anything. In the end she gave up, lifted her glasses onto her head, moved to the right and stared in. They were all busy, which gave her more opportunity to try and work out which one she was, but then she didn’t have to as it was obvious. She was stunning.
Cropped, lustrous dark brown hair that showed off her beautifully structured face. And a body that would make men weep. Laura watched for a moment, taken aback by how beautiful she was. No wonder Daniel was smitten. She was pleased for him, but . . . she could see how someone could be so besotted. She smiled. She was pleased. Cherry attended to a customer and Laura saw her face light up; youthful, determined, the sheer force of life in her was intimidating. She quickly looked away. She suddenly felt embarrassed at having been spying and smiled a foolish smile to herself. She walked on, but the image of Cherry came with her.
Laura turned down a residential street, leaving the bustle behind. As she passed the stuccoed white houses, gleaming in the sun, flanked by evenly spaced trees with their generous shade, she found herself wondering what Cherry was like. What twenty-four-year-old girls were like these days. What Rose would have been like if she’d lived. Then she knew what she wanted to do. She set her shoulders determinedly back and made her way home.
‘Why don’t you invite her for supper?’
‘What?’
Laura had returned to her house to find Daniel home but sleeping. Now, they were all seated round the large table for dinner, and three of them seemed to tip it back down and keep it afloat. Neither she nor Howard had mentioned Saturday night’s little scene, but enough time had passed for it to have drifted away from them and neither was obliged to bring it up.
‘Your mother’s dying to know more about her.’
Laura ignored him. She noticed he didn’t ever read the paper when Daniel was home.
‘We want to meet her! Don’t we, Howard?’
‘Sure,’ deadpanned Howard.
Daniel laughed. ‘Already? I’ve not even been seeing her a week.’
‘It’s not me putting the pressure on,’ said Howard.
Laura resisted the urge to huff. ‘Howard, if you want to see your son during these holidays, I would recommend a little more enthusiasm. He’s already blown us out once, remember.’
‘Am I in trouble over that?’ asked Daniel.
‘Terrible trouble,’ said Laura. ‘And I have a feeling you might be seeing a lot more of Cherry over the holidays, and so before you both disappear into some’ – she sighed wistfully – ‘blissful bubble, it would be nice to meet her.’
Daniel nodded. ‘You make a good point.’
‘Call her now.’
‘Now? What’s the rush?’
‘I need to be able to plan. Why don’t we say Thursday? Six thirty?’
Laura wasn’t entirely sure why she was pushing it so much. She knew she was unlikely to see him as much as she’d hoped over the summer. Though she’d been looking forward to it, she was accepting of the circumstances. Grown sons have their own agendas. But something made her want to get to know Cherry before they disappeared.
Daniel was on the phone. He covered the mouthpiece. ‘She can’t do Thursday . . .’
Laura thought quickly. ‘Friday, then?’
This was passed down the line and this time it seemed to hit success. ‘Call you again later,’ said Daniel softly. Then he hung up. ‘She’d love to come.’
Laura smiled. She was surprised by how much she was looking forward to it.
SIX
Thursday 12 June