She stepped into Max’s office, and he motioned for her to sit down. ‘That was quite a heated meeting yesterday.’ He flashed a brief smile.
‘It was, yes.’ Her heart quickened a little.
‘I thought we’d have a chat about the restructure, Luce?’
Luce? Only her friends here called her Luce. ‘Okay,’ she said warily. Max laced his fingers together and pursed his lips. He was one of those men who seemed to find it impossible to pass a reflective surface without checking out his appearance. Once, she had caught him fixing his hair via his reflection in the microwave door in the kitchen. For a moment now, she wondered if ‘restructure’ could refer to the controversial redesign of their classic ‘Sophia’ bra, which was hailed as a miracle in combining beauty and sublime comfort. But no. He was putting together a new senior team, he explained, that would ‘fully support our new vision, specifically the novelty undies line’.
‘Novelty undies?’ Lucy said with a frown. ‘What d’you mean?’
‘For men,’ he said plainly.
‘For men? But we don’t do men’s—’
‘We do now,’ he drawled, ‘and it’s jungle-themed …’
Lucy realised she was gripping the sides of the chair. ‘Jungle-themed,’ she repeated.
‘Yep, starting with elephant pants with an integral trunk section,’ Max explained. ‘That’s for his—’
‘Yes, I get you,’ she cut in. Lucy wasn’t a prude – far from it – but the brand had always taken inspiration from beauties such as Sophia Loren and Lauren Bacall. She couldn’t help wondering what these icons would make of elephant pants and, more pressingly, how on earth she would fit in with Claudine’s startling new direction.
‘But how can a brand called Claudine produce elephant pants?’ she started. ‘It hardly suggests that kind of product—’
‘Ah, but there’ll be a separate men’s range. We’re calling it Claude …’
She cleared her throat as she took this in. ‘So, um … what does this mean for me? I mean, will I be expected to work across the men’s line too, or—’
‘I’ll cut to the chase,’ Max said firmly. ‘Obviously this is a very different kind of market for you. We want people on board who are with us a hundred per cent, who’ll embrace Claude.’
‘Pardon?’ she spluttered.
‘We can’t be po-faced about underwear, Luce.’
‘I’m not being po-faced,’ she insisted. ‘I’m just a little stunned, that’s all.’
Max nodded. ‘Yes, well, I expected that – and that’s why I called you in today.’ Her stomach clenched as he regarded her steadily across his vast, entirely bare desk. Lucy suddenly realised what was coming. Her heart rate quickened, and with a wave of despair she pictured their highly praised recent advertising campaign featuring models in oyster silk camisoles shot in the walnut-panelled cabins of an old-style ocean liner. Clearly, those days were gone.
‘We appreciate everything you’ve done here,’ Max continued, ‘but I think it’s best all round if we make you an offer. Take some time to consider it, of course.’
‘Elephant pants?’ scorned Nadeen over a drink after work. ‘I heard a whisper about those. I thought it was a joke.’
‘“The Dumbo collection”,’ Lucy said wryly, still reeling slightly from the admittedly generous payoff Max had just offered her.
‘Please don’t leave us,’ Andrew urged her. ‘We need someone around here to talk sense.’
‘MC will screw things up, and then he’ll be out on his ear,’ Nadeen murmured, and Lucy promised not to do anything rash. However, within a few days, it started to become clear what she should do next.
She had been feeling oddly queasy and flat-out exhausted, and had put it down to the stresses of work. But it turned out that it wasn’t that at all. At least, not just that.
Lucy was pregnant. It was unplanned, and quite a shocker at forty years old – when Marnie and Sam were well beyond the baby stage and her boss was trying to force her out. But both she and Ivan were delighted. And maybe, she reflected, this surprise pregnancy would shake up their lives in the loveliest way possible.
There was always the option to fight MC’s move to get rid of her. But did Lucy really want to work under him, with his frankly ridiculous ideas? Her maternity leave would be marred by the thought of returning to a company she barely recognised. Alternatively – and the very thought thrilled her – she could accept MC’s offer and use it to embark on a new, very different sort of life.
It was obvious now which choice she should make. An adventure lay ahead – Lucy was sure of it – and she couldn’t wait.
If Lucy had known how events would unfold, she wouldn’t have come up with her plan. Instead, she and Ivan would have headed straight to her parents’ place to pick up their children, and all would have been fine. She might never have set foot in Burley Bridge again for the rest of her life. A few months on, she would wish over and over that she hadn’t.
Such a selfish move, she would berate herself. Manipulative, too – and she’d thought she’d been so clever! But none of that had clouded her thoughts on that crisp, blue-skied late October morning when the world had seemed so full of promise.
Lucy and Ivan had spent their tenth wedding anniversary overnight in a country hotel. With two young children it was rare for them to have time alone together. The countryside in this part of West Yorkshire was all green, rolling hills, familiar to Lucy and every bit as lovely as she’d remembered from her holidays. Unbeknown to Ivan, she had planned to make a small detour. She was ready to make a change in their lives, and she was willing him to be positive about it – or, at least, to not think she had lost her mind.
‘Where are we going?’ he asked as she turned off the dual carriageway.
‘Just thought we might have a stop-off,’ she replied.
‘Oh, whereabouts?’ He glanced out of the passenger window.
‘Burley Bridge. It’s a village a couple of miles away, down in the valley. Remember I told you about my holidays there when I was a kid?’
‘Uh-huh …’ He threw her a bemused glance. ‘Feeling nostalgic?’
Lucy smiled. ‘I guess so, yeah. I just thought we could have a quick look.’
‘Hmm, okay … what about your mum and dad, though?’ They were both aware that Lucy’s mother in particular would be eager to hand back Marnie and Sam at lunchtime as arranged. No, no, we’re fine, Anna had said in a tight, high voice when Lucy had called last night. They’re quite a handful, but I’m okay – it’s your father who’s exhausted, you know what he’s like, honestly … anyway, don’t worry about us. You just focus on enjoying your time together. You deserve it, love!
At that moment, Lucy had almost wished her mother hadn’t offered to have the kids, having almost forced her and Ivan to go away overnight. She always made them pay – not in money, of course, but in guilt. It was the currency she used: Your dad’s just a bit upset, that’s all. Sam was playing with his models and snapped off a wing … For heaven’s sake, couldn’t her father have placed his Airfix aeroplanes out of reach on a high shelf? Hadn’t he imagined that his five-year-old grandson might want to play with them? It was his favourite Spitfire, that’s all, Anna added with a sigh.