Page 117 of Friend of the Family

Amy couldn’t resist finding out more gossip. ‘You and Marv? When, how?’

‘Please, Amy. Don’t. He’s very special to me and I would rather not discuss it.’

Amy’s eyes clouded with emotion. She had always had Suzanne Black down as a kick-ass powerhouse. But she loved him. Suzanne Black was in love with Marv Schultz.

‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘No job is worth your relationship.’

‘The new Mode editor,’ Suzanne said after a moment. ‘It’s Juliet James. Marv was meeting her this afternoon for the final sign-off. It’s being announced tomorrow morning.’

‘So the rumours are true.’

‘As is the chatter that she’s sleeping with Douglas Proctor, although you didn’t hear that from me.’ Suzanne plumped up the feathers on her cape.

Amy was stunned. ‘Juliet and Douglas?’

Suzanne looked amused. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never had a little office dalliance. The heart generally doesn’t want to look very far.’

She touched Amy on the shoulder as she left. Amy remained rooted to the spot for a moment, then she pulled the door open and followed Suzanne out. She found David waiting for her.

‘So?’

‘Janice was right. Juliet is the new editor of Mode. It’s being announced tomorrow.’

He turned and pulled her into a hug. ‘She’s not worth it,’ he said into her hair. ‘The job isn’t worth it. Is that really what you want? Another five, ten years of working for snakes like Douglas Proctor, competing with people like Juliet who are so desperate to get what they want?’

She couldn’t even look up at her husband but she knew he was right.

‘I’m just so angry,’ she whispered.

Over his shoulder she could see Lysanne Flowers, Juliet’s deputy at Living Style, standing by the stage. She pulled herself away from David and went over, tapping the younger woman on the shoulder. Lysanne spun around, looking embarrassed when she saw her. Amy knew this was something she was going to have to get used to.

‘Have you seen Juliet anywhere?’ she asked.

‘She left a few minutes ago,’ said Lysanne.

Amy felt dazed, on autopilot, stuck between a desire to confront her former friend head on and wanting to leave all this behind her. Parties, people, the judgement of others. For years she hadn’t minded being so exposed, but now she didn’t care if she was hot or not. She had allowed herself to be taken in, seduced by it all. What a fool she was.

They were silent on the way home.

Amy let her gaze trail out onto the dark streets of London. It had begun to rain, dappling the grey pavements like droplets of oil.

David was half right. It didn’t matter any more. But she couldn’t get over the betrayal by such a close friend. She had known that Juliet could be brusque and insensitive, but this was something else.

A voice in her head told her that she should just sleep on it. Tomorrow, she felt sure, it would hurt less. She would plan a family holiday for half-term. Sooner than that: a weekend in the Cotswolds would be good for the soul. She thought of Tilly running along the banks of a river or through a meadow. She just wanted to scoop her daughter up in her arms. That always made her feel better.

David stopped the car outside the house. She thought about a nice bottle of claret in the rack in the kitchen, and wondered if there were any cookies left from a batch that Claudia had made the day before.

She pushed the key into the lock and the door swung open. The first thing that struck her was the smell coming from the huge vase of lilies in the hall. The second was the unnatural quiet and calm inside the house.

‘We’re back,’ called David, slipping off his suit jacket and hanging it over the walnut curve of the banister.

‘Rosemary?’ Amy went into the living room, but it was empty. ‘Where is she?’ She glanced at her husband, but he didn’t look concerned.

‘They’ve probably fallen asleep upstairs watching Mulan.’ Tilly wasn’t allowed a TV in her room, but there was a big set in the master bedroom, where the three of them would sometimes watch the latest movie that had caught the little girl’s imagination.

‘I’ll go and check,’ Amy said.

She took the stairs carefully, quietly, not wanting to wake her daughter. The main bathroom was ahead of her, but the door was open, suggesting that no one was inside. The guest bedroom next to it was also empty. She popped her head around the door of the master suite. The duvet was smooth, cushions and pillows still neatly stacked against the headboard.