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During the week, Jessica visited three other nightclubs, where each time, Paulo was welcomed as a regular. Over the next few weeks she began to develop a craving for his favorite brand of cigarettes, which didn’t seem to come from a packet, and to enjoy the brandy Alexanders that always appeared moments after they’d drained their second bottle of wine.
As the months went by, Jessica started to turn up later and later at the Slade, occasionally missing classes and lectures, and then whole days. She didn’t notice herself drifting out of her old world and becoming a part of Paulo’s.
* * *
When the first letter came towards the end of term, it should have been a wake-up call, but Paulo convinced her to ignore it.
“I had three of those in my first term,” he said. “After a while they just stop sending them.”
Jessica decided that once he became bored with her, which she feared couldn’t be too long now, as she’d already passed the statutory half-dozen dates, she would return to the real world, although she was beginning to wonder if that would now be possible. It so nearly did end after she’d attended a lecture on the art of the English watercolor, and found herself falling asleep. When she woke, the other students were already leaving the lecture theater. She had decided that rather than head back to the flat, she would go straight to Paulo’s apartment.
She took a bus to Knightsbridge, then ran all the way to Lancelot Place. The doorman opened the door with one hand and saluted with the other as she got into the lift. When she reached the fourth floor, she tapped lightly on Paulo’s door, which was opened by his Brazilian maid. She looked as if she was about to say something, but Jessica brushed past her and headed for the bedroom. She began to tear off her clothes, leaving them in a trail on the floor behind her, but when she entered the room she stopped in her tracks. Paulo was in bed, smoking hash with Avril Perkins.
Jessica knew that was the moment she should have turned around, marched out, and never looked back, but instead she found herself walking slowly toward them. Paulo grinned as she crawled up onto the bed. He pushed Avril aside, took Jessica in his arms, and pulled off the only garment she was still wearing.
* * *
The next letter Jessica received from the Slade was signed by the principal, and had the words “Second Warning” boldly underlined.
Mr. Knight pointed out that she had missed her last six drawing classes, and had also failed to attend any lectures for over a month. If this continued, he wrote, the board would have to consider withdrawing her scholarship. When Paulo set fire to the letter, Jessica burst out laughing.
During the following term, Jessica began sleeping at Paulo’s apartment during the day and spending most of her waking life accompanying him to nightclubs. On the rare occasions she and Paulo dropped into the Slade, few people recognized them. She became used to a string of different girls coming and going during the day, but she was the only one who spent the night with him.
The third letter, which Professor Howard handed to Jessica personally on one of the rare occasions she did get up in time to attend a morning drawing class, could not be ignored. The principal informed her that as she had been caught smoking marijuana on the college’s premises, her scholarship had been rescinded and would be awarded to another student. He added that she would be allowed to remain as a pupil for the present, but only if she attended classes and her work greatly improved.
Professor Howard warned her that if she still hoped to graduate and be offered a place at the Royal Academy to study for an MA, she would have to build a portfolio of work for the examiners to consider, and time was slipping away.
When Jessica went home that afternoon, she didn’t show the letter to Claire, who rarely missed a lecture, and had a steady boyfriend called Darren, who considered a visit to Pizza Express a treat.
* * *
Jessica made sure that whenever she visited her parents or grandparents, which was becoming less and less frequent, she was always soberly dressed and never smoked or drank in their presence.
She made no mention of her lover, or the double life she was leading, and was relieved that Paulo had
never once suggested he would like to meet her family. Whenever one of her parents raised the subject of the Royal Academy, she assured them that Professor Howard was delighted with her progress, and remained confident that the academy would offer her a place the following year.
* * *
By the beginning of her second year at art school, Jessica was conducting two lives. Neither of them in the real world. This might well have continued if she hadn’t bumped into Lady Virginia Fenwick.
Jessica was standing at the bar of Annabel’s when she turned at the same moment as an elderly lady with her back to her and spilled some champagne on her sleeve.
“What are the young coming to?” said Virginia, when Jessica didn’t even bother to apologize.
“And it’s not just the young,” said the duke. “One of those new life peers Thatcher has just appointed had the nerve to address me by my Christian name.”
“Whatever next, Perry?” said Virginia as the maître d’ guided them to their usual table. “Mario, do you by any chance know who that young lady is standing at the bar?”
“Her name is Jessica Clifton, my lady.”
“Is it indeed? And the young man she’s with?”
“Mr. Paulo Reinaldo, one of our regular customers.”
For the next few minutes Virginia made only monosyllabic replies to anything the duke said. Her gaze rarely left a table on the far side of the room.
Eventually she got up, telling the duke she needed to go to the loo, then took Mario to one side and slipped him a ten-pound note. As Lady Virginia wasn’t known for her generosity, Mario assumed this could not be for services rendered, but for services about to be rendered. By the time her ladyship returned to the duke and suggested it was time to go home, she knew everything she needed to know about Paulo Reinaldo, and the only thing she needed to know about Jessica Clifton.
