with you. But after that, the time never was right. Things moved on and when I re-read the first letter everything I’d written seemed so immature and childish. So as things changed, I wrote to you again. I fully intended to let you read everything - but gradually there were too many things that prevented that. And so it became something almost therapeutic. I felt as if I was talking to you, but I didn’t have to suffer the humiliation of seeing your reaction. It won’t make sense now, but it will when you read them.’
Laura took a deep breath.
‘Go, Imogen. Go and call Will. I’ll go and find the letters - they’re well hidden. I suppose you might as well start at the beginning - from the night I met Hugo. But we need to do this at my pace, Imo. I don’t know if I can let you read them all.’
CHAPTER 6
FEBRUARY 1998
Dear Imo
There’s something I’m dying to tell you - but I can’t ! It’s so frustrating. I understand why I can’t, but it’s difficult for me. You’re my best friend, and I want to share this with you. So I’m going to write it all down, and that way I won’t forget anything. Not one precious moment. You see I’ve had an amazing couple of weeks. I truly believe that in the last fourteen days, my life has changed forever.
I’ve met a man.
It all started with the awards’ night. The one I told you about. I’ve never been to an event in the Great Room of the Grosvenor House Hotel before, but it’s famous for all the best awards’ nights. And this time one of my programmes had been shortlisted (and I was a complete bag of nerves).
Simon - my boss - was waiting for me when I arrived, and we pushed our way through the throngs of people crammed into the small lobby, all laughing and smiling and looking wonderfully elegant. We made our way down to the mezzanine overlooking the Great Room where the Champagne reception was being held.
I have to say (somewhat immodestly) that I was really pleased with how I looked, which was a huge confidence boost, particularly as I was trembling with nerves. I’d splashed out on a gorgeous dress in aquamarine silk. It’s got tiny shoestring straps, and a plunged neckline, and it’s cut on the bias so that I look shapely rather than chubby - at least, that’s what I’d convinced myself! And of course, my hair helps. I love being a redhead! So all in all, it was one of those nights when I felt good about myself.
Looking into the Great Room from the reception area, the sight was breath-taking. Enormous chandeliers created a warm and welcoming light, and there was an endless sea of beautifully decorated circular tables each with its own candelabra, the soft yellow flames gently illuminating the white cloths, which shimmered like pools of gold below us. The stage had been set up with a stunning backdrop of silver and gold stars, but best of all was the long table that held all the crystal pyramid awards for the winners. Just looking at them made me shiver with excitement. It would be such an honour to win, and such a boost to my career.
But I don’t just feel ambitious for myself anymore. It’s all about the company. Since Simon gave me some shares I feel I need to prove myself, and a win would surely make him feel his faith in me had been justified?
As we sat down at our table I realised that I wasn’t going to be able to talk to everybody. I couldn’t even see some of the VIP guests that Simon had invited because of the tall candles and a mass of wine bottles in a huge silver ice bucket, but as the night wore on and the wine was greedily devoured, I caught the eye of the man sitting opposite me. He seemed vaguely familiar, and very interesting! I guessed he was about forty, and he had thick, dark hair that like the rest of him was impeccably styled. Every man in the room was wearing a dinner jacket, but somehow his looked better - blacker, better fitting, more elegant. I couldn’t see the colour of his eyes, but I made a bet with myself that
Laura took a deep breath.
‘Go, Imogen. Go and call Will. I’ll go and find the letters - they’re well hidden. I suppose you might as well start at the beginning - from the night I met Hugo. But we need to do this at my pace, Imo. I don’t know if I can let you read them all.’
CHAPTER 6
FEBRUARY 1998
Dear Imo
There’s something I’m dying to tell you - but I can’t ! It’s so frustrating. I understand why I can’t, but it’s difficult for me. You’re my best friend, and I want to share this with you. So I’m going to write it all down, and that way I won’t forget anything. Not one precious moment. You see I’ve had an amazing couple of weeks. I truly believe that in the last fourteen days, my life has changed forever.
I’ve met a man.
It all started with the awards’ night. The one I told you about. I’ve never been to an event in the Great Room of the Grosvenor House Hotel before, but it’s famous for all the best awards’ nights. And this time one of my programmes had been shortlisted (and I was a complete bag of nerves).
Simon - my boss - was waiting for me when I arrived, and we pushed our way through the throngs of people crammed into the small lobby, all laughing and smiling and looking wonderfully elegant. We made our way down to the mezzanine overlooking the Great Room where the Champagne reception was being held.
I have to say (somewhat immodestly) that I was really pleased with how I looked, which was a huge confidence boost, particularly as I was trembling with nerves. I’d splashed out on a gorgeous dress in aquamarine silk. It’s got tiny shoestring straps, and a plunged neckline, and it’s cut on the bias so that I look shapely rather than chubby - at least, that’s what I’d convinced myself! And of course, my hair helps. I love being a redhead! So all in all, it was one of those nights when I felt good about myself.
Looking into the Great Room from the reception area, the sight was breath-taking. Enormous chandeliers created a warm and welcoming light, and there was an endless sea of beautifully decorated circular tables each with its own candelabra, the soft yellow flames gently illuminating the white cloths, which shimmered like pools of gold below us. The stage had been set up with a stunning backdrop of silver and gold stars, but best of all was the long table that held all the crystal pyramid awards for the winners. Just looking at them made me shiver with excitement. It would be such an honour to win, and such a boost to my career.
But I don’t just feel ambitious for myself anymore. It’s all about the company. Since Simon gave me some shares I feel I need to prove myself, and a win would surely make him feel his faith in me had been justified?
As we sat down at our table I realised that I wasn’t going to be able to talk to everybody. I couldn’t even see some of the VIP guests that Simon had invited because of the tall candles and a mass of wine bottles in a huge silver ice bucket, but as the night wore on and the wine was greedily devoured, I caught the eye of the man sitting opposite me. He seemed vaguely familiar, and very interesting! I guessed he was about forty, and he had thick, dark hair that like the rest of him was impeccably styled. Every man in the room was wearing a dinner jacket, but somehow his looked better - blacker, better fitting, more elegant. I couldn’t see the colour of his eyes, but I made a bet with myself that
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