Free A French Affair by Susan Lewis Page B

like being famous, you never have, and you don’t want to be famous any more – that’s going to be difficult with Charlie as a husband, but we don’t need to go there. I respect your feelings, Jessica, and I understand how hateful it can be having people recognise you all the time, blundering into the middle of conversations in restaurants, feeling free to offer advice you don’t want, or photographing you when you’d rather they didn’t. I’m sure it’s uncomfortable in a hundred ways I don’t even know about, and you’ve come to a time when you want your privacy back – particularly after whathappened. And you deserve it, which is why I’m not going to try to make you change your mind about presenting. The trouble is, bringing you in as the producer of a topical arts programme would mean pushing aside those who are currently doing the job. If there were a vacancy, obviously there would be less of a problem, but I would still have to explain to the board why Jessica Moore is not doing what she does best to pull in the ratings. However, that’s academic, because there isn’t a vacancy. If that changes, obviously we can talk again.’ She flashed another smile. ‘You have my support, Jessica, please believe that, but as much as I’d like to have a completely free hand in these matters I’m afraid I am answerable to those above me.’
    Jessica nodded. ‘Of course,’ she said quietly, not sure how much of the diatribe she believed, even though she could think of no reason for Melissa to lie. ‘I really appreciate you coming to see me,’ she said. ‘It couldn’t have been easy, with us being friends and . . . Well, thank you.’
    Melissa got to her feet. ‘It’s for me to thank you,’ she said, putting a hand on Jessica’s arm. ‘You’ve taken it very well. You know if there’s anything else, anything at all . . .’
    Jessica smiled and turned towards the open French doors. As they walked across the garden she considered telling Melissa about her book offer, but decided not to. It wasn’t something she was going to do, so what was the point in bringing it up?
    At the gate Melissa changed back into her garden rubbers. ‘By the way,’ she said, popping her Manolos into her bag once more, ‘Nikki’s doing extremely well. Everyone’s very impressed with her,’ and with afriendly squeeze of Jessica’s arm she started back down the lane.
    As she closed the gate Jessica could feel tears burning in her eyes and was angry with herself for minding about the bloody job, when she hadn’t really wanted it anyway. Or was it that Melissa’s praise for Nikki had been a reminder that she would never hear anyone talk about Natalie that way now?
    Hearing the phone ringing inside she hurried back across the garden and picked it up, hoping it would be Charlie, but knowing it couldn’t be, because he was on air now.
    â€˜Jessica?’ a wonderfully familiar voice cried from the other end. ‘It’s me. How are you?’
    â€˜Lilian,’ Jessica gasped, feeling more emotional than ever.
    â€˜I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch for a few days,’ Lilian said, ‘it’s been a madhouse here. Still is, so I can’t stay long I’m afraid. I just wanted to check in, find out how everything’s going?’
    â€˜It’s OK, I think. I’ve just been turned down for a job . . .’
    â€˜What? Are you serious?’
    â€˜Long story, I’ll tell you another time. I’ve braved the supermarket and been whistled at. Someone’s asked me to write a book . . .’
    â€˜Stop there, that sounds interesting. What about?’
    â€˜What do you think?’
    â€˜Ah, I see. Not something you want to get into?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜And how are things with Charlie?’
    â€˜The