He pronounced it ‘etikwet’.
‘Good manners,’ said Jenna. ‘But it’s more than that. It’s about being able to go through life mixing with all classes of people without any of them laughing at you. I took a course here after Deano’s first album went platinum. Money well spent.’
‘Really? Margery Mountjoy was the one that sucked the Bledburn accent out of you, was she?’
‘Well, not her exactly. She died decades ago. But this was where I came to transform myself into a London “It” person. It worked for me, and I think it’ll work for you.’
‘What if I don’t want to be a London “It” person
? Whatever that is.’
‘Jason, don’t be obtuse. It’s just a little schooling in how to make people feel at their ease with you.’
‘Sounds more like it’s a schooling in how to have airs and graces.’
‘Oh, God, you sound like my mother! That’s what she was like. “What’s wrong with Bledburn ways? They’ll turn you into a snob.” But I’m not a snob, am I?’
‘Well . . .’
She thought he was teasing. She hoped he was.
She pushed the double doors with determination, leading them into a large, luxurious, marble-floored lobby area.
‘Hundreds of people take courses here every year and come out raving about the place,’ she said.
‘I’d rather just come out raving. I could enjoy a good rave right now. Good weather for it too.’
‘Oh, stop it. You’re just trying to wind me up.’
‘Would I?’
They stopped at a reception desk, presided over by a very well-dressed and very fragrant lady with a tight updo.
‘Welcome to Margery Mountjoy,’ said the lady, with a winning smile. ‘What can I do to help you?’
‘Hello, I’m Jenna Myatt and I’ve booked a session with Georgina.’
‘Let me check the record – ah, yes. So you have. Please take a seat and she’ll be with you very shortly. I’ll just ring to let her know you’re here.’
‘You see,’ whispered Jenna, as they seated themselves on a cream leather couch bookended by luscious green plants. On the coffee table in front of them was a fan-shape of glossy magazines. ‘Perfect manners. Makes you feel welcome and important straight away.’
‘I dunno about that,’ said Jason. ‘I think it’s a bit creepy.’
‘Don’t be so silly. It’s just a question of confidence, and being comfortable around people. I don’t feel that you really are, not yet. This will help you.’
‘You don’t think I’m confident?’
‘I think you’re cocky, which isn’t the same thing. It comes from a chip on your shoulder. It’s aggressive, when you need to be assertive. I don’t want that to come over when you’re trying to make your name. It’ll alienate people you need on your side.’
His jaw dropped. ‘Now she tells me! You think I’m a chippy, aggressive bastard. Well, thank you so much.’
He was about to get up and leave, when a very thin middle-aged woman with a helmet of shiny black hair and an immaculate Chanel suit stepped out of the lift and made a beeline for the couch.
‘Ah,’ she said, her thin magenta mouth curving upwards into a smile. ‘Ms Myatt. And Mr Watson. You’re in very good time. Hello, I’m Georgina May.’
She held out a hand, which Jenna took first.
Jason folded his arms and looked at the ceiling, then, when nudged by Jenna, stood up to shake Georgina’s hand.