Lady Valetta Writes

Doesn’t this early burst of spring weather take you to your favourite holiday destination?

A little nod to the genre I’m working on, with the following story…

BANKING HOLIDAYS…

“I’m sorry, Mum, but I’ll be there on the Saturday.”
“Can you really not take a day off?”
Of course, Kim could, she just didn’t want to, but she knew it was best not to go down that
route with her Mum.
“No. Not right now.”
“You’re wedded to that job.” Her Mum’s disappointment was cutting.
“It is a good job, Mum. And you always told me to have a good career.”
“But, Kimberly, it’s your Grandma’s birthday…”
Oh, there it was, the use of her name in full, always invoked to rouse a sense of shame or
guilt, usually accompanied by a pitiable whine.

“On the Saturday,” Kim interrupted, determined to stay strong. “And I’ll be there. There’s
really no need for me to come down a day earlier. Gran understands.”
After all, it was Gran who’d encouraged Kim to follow her dream to work in the
entertainment business, and to commit herself to a career. It was Gran who’d been fully
behind Kim’s older Oxbridge-graduate brother, Ed’s decision to throw in his job in the city
and hide away in the Suffolk countryside in his own pottery studio. It was Gran who’d urged
Kim’s sister, Abby, newly pregnant and confused, to go it alone as a single, working Mum,
and subsequently reveled in her barrister grand-daughter and gorgeous great-grandson. Kim
knew Gran really would understand.
The conversation twisted for a few more minutes, until Kim’s Mum finally accepted her
daughter’s plans.
There was nothing for it but a long bath after that call, and she was grateful that her flat-mate
was out for the evening, so she could lie back in a haze of bubbles, indulging in a glass of
white wine. She was far more relaxed when, just before she slipped into bed, her phone
alerted her to a video call and there, in front of her, Javier, calling from his Balearic paradise.
Well, it was paradise to her; she wondered if all anywhere needed was Javier’s presence to
count as such an idyll, but reminded herself of the enveloping warmth of the Mediterranean
sun, the brooding backdrop of the Tramuntana mountains and decided that ‘paradise’ was a
fair description.
“Booked a flight yet?” Javier’s rich Spanish accent seemed to fill her room.
3
It seemed everybody wanted her on a schedule this evening.
“No, I’m waiting on confirming some client meetings. Soon.” This she managed in slightly
broken Spanish, but was rewarded by the delight springing from her boyfriend’s face.
They continued the conversation in Spanish, Javier occasionally correcting her, displaying his
pride and gratitude at the effort she was making. All part of her plan.
Next morning, the office was the usual buzz of panic and drama but Kim took it all in her
stride. She had gained the reputation of being calm in a crisis – and working for a talent
agency meant that crises were par for the course. She was wading through a rather dense
script, deciding if the secondary featured role would be enough to tempt one of their clients
out of maternity leave (unlikely) when she was aware of a lurking presence.
“Shaneece,” she smiled as she looked up at the intern. “Can I help?”
Kim was proud that her company provided a paid internship scheme for school-leavers who
might not find their way into her profession, and she had immediately decided to mentor the
girl with the huge dark eyes, who all but cowered in the corner on introduction day.
Shaneece mumbled something about Ivan wanting a word, so Kim hauled herself into his
office.
4
“Kim, darling.” It wasn’t obligatory for the senior agent and founder of the company to use
the familiar theatrical greeting, but Ivan seemed keen to perpetuate the fashion.
“You called?” Kim smiled as she asked.
“Darling,” (again!). “I know you’re technically drama but Harry’s still on sick-leave and
Lady Ivana Bang-Bang is at the RVT on Saturday with a new show and they really need
some support. As you know, I’m off to Cannes on Friday.”
It might sound like some kind of destination name-drop, but Ivan was always so genuinely
excited to find himself invited to industry events – and Cannes, surely, was the industry event
of all industry events – that he couldn’t be considered pretentious.
Kim remembered the first time she’d been introduced to the drag legend that was Lady Ivana
Bang-Bang. A true, witty talent, brimming with warmth and energy – and looking stunning in
Chanel.
“We’d pay you overtime, of course…”
“No, happy to go. Would love to see the new show. But… could I add it to my holiday
days?”
“Sure. Done?”
5
Ivan always liked to conclude arrangements with the least fuss possible, so Kim nodded and
made her way out.
She noticed Shaneece still hovering at her desk and glanced at a new raft of emails that had
arrived.
“Lunch, I think, Shaneece,” she declared, as she stood and retrieved her handbag.
Shaneece looked confused.
“Come on.”
“M… my Mum made a sandwich.”
“Save it for the tube home,” and KIm headed towards the wine bar – or the office annexe on
any given day – trailing her anxious intern. They found a small table in quiet corner, and Kim
realized that she was going to have to take charge of ordering.
“So, what is it you really want to do?” Kim asked, two Cokes and a plate of fries later, fully
expecting Shaneece to answer that she had dreams to be a singer (she’d heard the intern
singing in the ladies’ toilets, but didn’t dare mention it).
“Want a dog-grooming salon.”
Had they been on bar stools, there was no doubt Kim would have fallen off.
6
“Dog-grooming?” Turned out it was Shaneece’s pushy older sister who’d fought for
Shaneece’s internship.
This gave Kim much to ponder as they returned to the office, and she couldn’t help googling
various dog-grooming career options as the afternoon progressed. That was a whole, new
world!
Days passed, and to the office’s bemusement, Kim continued to volunteer for any extra
opportunities, all in exchange for further holiday time. She had in fact thoroughly enjoyed her
evening at the RVT watching Lady Ivana Bang-Bang’s new show, and had even managed to
persuade a TV exec to read the script.
She left early on the morning of Gran’s birthday lunch, lapping up the bright, English
countryside as it sped by on her train journey.
Most of her family was already assembled as Kim arrived. She hugged her brother and
immediately grabbed Walker, her nephew, bouncing him around the room, both of them
eventually collapsing in giggles.
“You look so comfortable there,” Gran remarked as Kim finally sat down, Walker on her lap.
Kim glanced at Abbie, who was plainly delighted to be hands-free for lunch.
“Don’t go getting any ideas, Gran,” Kim warned. “No more great-grandchildren for a while.”7
Gran smiled, but Kim’s mum looked a little put-out at the remark, obviously enjoying her
new role as a Grandma.
The day was a huge success, and before long Kim was back home, giving Javier all the
details on their video call.
“I hope you gave Gran a huge kiss from me.”
“Claro está!” Kim replied. Javier revered Kim’s abuela. “She was disappointed you couldn’t
be there,” she added.
“Oh, I was sad. But I have two who might make the French Open qualifiers, I cannot leave
them now.”
They chatted for a while about some of the talent at the tennis academy where he worked,
until Kim revealed her most important news.
“By the way,” she left a dramatic pause. “Flights booked.”
There was no hiding Javier’s delight and for the next twenty minutes, they made plans.
Work continued in its frantic pattern as Kim counted off the days. She’d also sourced some
dog-grooming courses – she really was surprising herself with her range, these days – along
with funding options. With such possibilities, Shaneece had visibly grown in confidence, and
Kim was certain the girl would prove her worth while she was away.

The day came. The two-hour flight seemed interminable, but when the plane landed, her life
in London felt as far away as a different Galaxy. And there he was, bursting into a smile as
she dragged her suitcase through the Arrivals hall. As they emerged from the exit, the heat of
late afternoon Palma hit Kim with its familiar force.
They found Javier’s car, and she stood back, watching his strong arms – honed by hours on
the clay courts – haul her case into the boot of his car. Soon they were speeding towards
Javier’s home town, where she knew a festive welcome awaited. She gazed out the windows
at the backdrop of those familiar mountains.
“When do you fly home?” Javier broke through her reverie.
“I’ve got three weeks.”
“Three? I thought two…”
She smiled at him.
“I banked all my holiday time. So, maybe we can look at those houses…”
Javier couldn’t hide his delight and Kim knew, without any doubt, that this is where her
future lay. This was home.