Page 118 of A Night with Damien Spur

Chapter 38

Damien was finally free. And so was Sophie.

‘Ah, there you are.’ Sophie had waited for her sister by the entrance of Regent’s Park… It was 9 a.m. and Anna was late.

‘Sorry! Justin and I had a bit of a tiff.’

‘What about?’

‘Damien rang me this morning to ask whether I was interested in joining him for a literary weekend in Brighton this July mentoring young writers. I told Justin and he went crazy. He thinks I’ve still got a thing about him.’

‘Sounds interesting,’ Sophie said as they walked through the gate.

‘To be honest, I’m so busy in the next few months decorating our house that I didn’t want to commit.’

‘Or maybe it’s because you don’t trust yourself. Tell the truth: you’ve always had a thing about Damien, haven’t you?’

‘Come on, don’t start that one. He changed my life and for that…’

‘I know, you’re eternally grateful.’

They strolled past a tramp asleep on a park bench, swathed in a blanket of newspaper, a Jack Russell by his side who, like his master, looked perfectly at peace.

‘The old boy’s a regular,’ Anna said. ‘Never seen him beg for money and yet his dog always looks well fed and happy.’

‘Probably just likes the outdoor life,’ Sophie replied. ‘Did I tell you about the woman who slept in the Hyde Park subway when I was at ballet school in Park Lane? I passed her every day. She had snow-white hair, which she wore in a bun. It looked like a huge balloon. Apparently, legend has it, that’s where she hid her money, and when she ran out, she withdrew more cash from a bank account she had in the Mayfair branch of Barclays.’

Anna looked at her sister and burst out laughing. ‘Sophie, stop telling porkies and let’s talk about my book.’

The two women sat on a bench opposite the boating lake.

‘First let me say one thing about Nicholas,’ Sophie said.

‘If you must,’ Anna sighed, ‘but you said you’ve moved on, so why do you still want to talk about him?’

‘Well, the strange thing is that now it’s over, I miss the friendship.’ Sophie took a plastic bag of bread from her pocket and threw some crusts in the water. The ducks dipped and the lucky ones swam away with the crumbs in their beaks. ‘It’s a shame,’ she continued. ‘Sex got in the way. He was a terrific friend, very generous and we did have fun.’

‘Please, Sophie,’ Anna said, ‘I don’t want to hear about him any more. I’m much more interested to know whether you’ve started on my drawings?’

Sophie had been commissioned to illustrate her sister’s next book,Abba de Giggler, a sci-fi tale about a boy from Earth invited to join the annual laughter conference on Planet Ha Ha.

‘Not yet. Still reading the story. Don’t worry, I know the deadline’s end of July. It will all be done by then.’

‘Please don’t let me down. If your illustrations aren’t up to scratch I’ll be the one to blame.’ Anna jabbed Sophie’s chest with her index finger.

‘Okay, okay… Calm down,’ Sophie said, ‘or you’ll have a heart attack. I won’t disappoint you. It’s a great opportunity – thank you.’

Anna still wasn’t sure she’d made the right decision. ‘Tell you what, why don’t you come with me to the villa? You can do the work there.’ At least she could keep her sister focused.

‘What a great idea… Are you sure Justin won’t mind?’

‘Of course not,’ she replied. ‘Anyway, he has to be in London this coming week. He’s got a new client, Levi Stern, who lives in Vienna. He’s flying in on Wednesday with his family and Justin’s playing host.

‘He’s written an incredible biography, which I’ve read, about his father, Andrei Stern, who was in hiding in Niceduring World War II and was arrested by the Gestapo who had occupied France. The people who ran the laundry where he took his washing had sold the names and addresses of their Jewish customers to the Gestapo for £2 per head.

‘Andrei was imprisoned at a hotel with many of the other Jews who were then sent off to the concentration camps.’

‘And Andrei? What happened to him?’ Sophie asked.

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