The next ten days took on a kind of surreal quality. In fact, I sometimes felt like pinching myself to make sure I hadn’t fallen asleep and was having another of the weird dreams I’d been having since Alex left.
Whilst working my weeks’ notice, I was also spending my evenings with Henry while he coached me in the art of being a mystery guest. This had to be the jammiest apprenticeship ever. I kept waiting for him to decide that I wasn’t really the right girl for the job after all, thus sending me back to my life of un-wantedness only with the added humiliation of knowing what a lovely job I could have had if only I’d been a bit wittier, a bit better dressed, or a bit more posh.
We ate out at a different type of classy restaurant every night, so I could familiarise myself with fine dining menus and the etiquette they required, and which wine I should order with which food. The first was a French restaurant, called L’Escargot, where we ate Escargot á la Bourginion – snails in garlic butter, which were absolutely delicious, accompanied by glasses of light and lively – Henry’s words, not mine – Petit Chablis. Next came the Cuisses de Grenouille – frogs’ legs, which really did taste like chicken. With these we drank gorgeous appley and melony – my words, not Henry’s – Pinot Gris. And to think I’d always been a Sauvignon Blanc kind of girl, and at the cheaper end of the market at that – stick a Buy One Get One Free label on a bottle and it practically shrieked out ‘Beth! Beth! Come and get me!’ from its supermarket shelf. This new job was broadening my horizons before I’d even started it. It would be broadening my waistline too if I had to eat too many dinners like this. I’d have to watch that – my fancy-pants clothes allowance wouldn’t go far if as soon as I bought something I started bulging out of it!
‘I hope you won’t be offended, Beth,’ Henry said to me, after the waiter had finished clearing the entree plates from our delicious chateaubriand – its accompanying glass of Medoc Rouge serving to remind me how much I preferred white wine, however fancy the red was. Here it comes, I thought. I’d known this was all too good to be true. My table manners were worse than the Tasmanian Devil’s and I’d managed to splash garlic butter all over the pristine table cloth. Add to that the fact that I was clearly a wine peasant and of course he couldn’t bring himself to let me loose in one of his posh hotels. ‘I’d like to book you an appointment to get your hair done before you go on your first assignment.’
‘My hair?’ I supposed it was looking less than its best at the moment, and split ends would definitely not be de rigueur where I was going to be staying. He went on, however, to mention a much more upmarket hairdresser than anywhere I’ve ever been able to afford. It did need a bit of a tidy up – well, probably a lot of a tidy up – but yikes! It was going to be the most expensive hair cut I’d ever had in my life. Would he give me an advance on my future wages to pay for it? There was no way I would have enough money. And while I was busy worrying about how much the hair cut would cost, he started talking about a facial, manicure, and pedicure. Double yikes! It was starting to look like this job was out of my league for reasons other than the ones I’d already come up with. I needed to let him know – maybe I could get away with just the hair cut for now, with an advance, and when he’d paid me for the first assignment I could afford the facial?
‘Er, Henry.’ I swallowed the tiny morsel of pride I had left since I’d taken to a life – well, a few weeks anyway – of sofa squatting crime. ‘I hope you know how very grateful I am that you’ve offered me this job …’
‘Let me stop you right there, Beth.’ He put his hand up to silence me but in a nice, friendly way. ‘In my line of work I deal with a lot of people, and I think it’s made me a pretty good judge of character. I’ve already been impressed by the way you looked after Talisker when I was away. You were the only one who always bothered with all those little things like rinsing out and refilling his drinking water every day, not just topping it up – you know how slimy the inside of a cat’s water bowl can get, and you’d be amazed how many so-called pet sitters don’t bother. That was one of the reasons why I always asked for you. But then you told me what your husband had done and how you’d reacted to it and the difficulties you’d put yourself through so you could stay here and do the job you enjoyed and, well, I thought that showed a kind of gumption you just don’t see very often. It took imagination and initiative and a fair amount of guts to do what you did, Beth, and I’d say you’ve got all of those in spades.’
‘I don’t know if all the other customers whose sofas I borrowed would agree with you,’ I shrugged, feeling my face flush at being complemented for doing something which was basically wrong.
‘Anyone with half an ounce of imagination and empathy would appreciate the respect you showed their homes while you were doing it. You certainly went the extra mile with Talisker,’ he started to argue, pausing as the waiter came back with the dessert menu. ‘I can recommend the Soufflé au Grand Marnier,’ he said as he looked down at his menu. There were dessert wines too and I worried that if I had any more alcohol he’d have to carry me out of there. I should have said no when he offered me an aperitif.
‘Actually, I’d love the Crème Brûlée,’ I told him, hoping there wasn’t a wine to go with that.
‘One Soufflé au Grand Marnier and one Crème Brûlée please,’ he ordered. ‘And I think we’ll have a glass each of the Muscat.’ He handed the menus back to the waiter and smiled at me. He wouldn’t be smiling if, after all this rich food and wine, I threw up in the taxi back to Wintertown. I mentally crossed my fingers that I could distract him somehow and tip my glass into his. There’s never a handy plant pot around when you need one.
‘Henry,’ I bit the bullet. ‘About my hair cut …’
‘Oh yes, I’ll need to get a move on and book that for you, but they know me there so it shouldn’t be a problem. It’ll have to be an evening appointment, to fit in with your other work commitments, won’t it?’
‘It’s just, well, the thing is …’
‘Is there another salon you’d rather go to? They have an excellent head stylist.’
Oh my giddy aunt! He didn’t just want to book me into probably the most expensive salon in the whole of Hampshire, he wanted me to see their probably even more expensive head stylist. How much of a dog’s dinner did I look right now?
‘That sounds lovely but very … expensive,’ I trailed off. My face must be Santa Claus red if the heat I could feel in it was anything to go by.
‘I have an account there,’ Henry said, looking a little nonplussed for a tiny moment before it seemed to dawn on him just what I was worrying about. His mouth opened and then shut again. ‘You didn’t think I was expecting you to pay for it, did you, Beth?’
‘Well …’
‘This is on company expenses. I’m sorry, I should have explained. As part of your assignments you’ll have to use and report back on all the beauty facilities in the spas at most of the hotels you’ll be staying in. It’ll help you to fit in if your skin, hair, and nails look like they’re used to those sorts of treatments. Also it will give you a level against which to judge the spas you’ll be visiting. It may sound like an extravagance but believe me, it will be money well spent. Especially if any of the spas at any of my hotels are falling down at all in what they are doing for the guests. You need to go in there, armed with the knowledge of what they should be doing, and how they should be doing it.’
I think he was too polite to tell me that someone who looked like an ex squatter who walked dogs and scooped poo for a living would look out of place in any of his establishments. He was clearly trying to turn this sow’s ear into the closest thing to a silk purse he possibly could before letting me loose amongst the shiny-haired, tiny-pored, mani-pedied posh people.