by Julie Caplin
A brief rap at the door seconds later announced his arrival, and her pulse lifted in uncontrolled anticipation. There was a definite disconnect between her brain and her body at the moment. From the neck downwards, everything seemed to have gone haywire. She swallowed, took in a calming breath and opened it. To her surprise, Todd was dressed in a scruffy T-shirt and shorts that looked as if they’d been worn to service a dozen cars.
‘Oh,’ she looked down, smoothing the fabric of her dress.
‘You’re fine,’ said Todd with a grimace. ‘I … You look lovely. I …’ His face contorted. Sophie was intrigued by the conflict she could see there. ‘My parents dress for dinner.’
‘Aha.’
His eyes slid away in an un-Todd-like manner. Normally he was open, gregarious and easy to read. She frowned and was about to ask him if he was OK but he straightened up and crooked his arm with as much debonair charm as if he were dressed in a dinner suit. ‘Shall we go?’ Todd the playboy was back, eyes twinkling, smile broad. ‘Would you like a drink on the terrace? The view out over the sea is rather nice and there’ll be a bottle of fizz chilling.’
‘Why not?’ Sophie took his arm, squashing the brief feeling of misgiving. ‘Just promise me it’s not been messed with.’
‘Don’t say a word about black champagne.’ He shuddered with great show. ‘My mother would love that idea. She loves a theme. I can imagine it. Batcave by McLennan. It doesn’t bear thinking about it. Only Mahalia keeps her in check and keeps her taste this side of understated tacky.’
Sophie laughed at his mock theatrics as they descended, because with a staircase like that you couldn’t really do anything but descend down to the ground floor. At the bottom, Todd steered her down the hallway and they were about to turn left past a door that was ajar when he stopped dead. A sort of halt-in-the-shoes standard comedy freeze, except he didn’t look as if this was funny. From inside voices hissing with venom spoke in low, vicious tones.
‘You don’t have to flaunt your floozies in front of me. Have some respect.’
‘Respect … that’s rich. You earn respect. And she’s my secretary, so make sure you’re damn polite to her.’
A bland mask slipped down over Todd’s face, like an eraser rubbing away the sunshine and light Sophie was so used to seeing. She was disconcerted by the lack of expression on his face. It was as if someone had snuffed him out.
‘Secretary, my ass.’ Fury simmered in the words. ‘Like the last three secretaries you’ve had.’
‘Jesus, Celine, you’re a paranoid neurotic. And if we’re talking numbers, I’ve lost count of your tennis coaches.’
‘They are tennis coaches,’ came the hot denial.
‘Like my secretaries are secretaries, for crying out loud, woman.’
This was followed by a derisory snort in response.
‘Doesn’t seem to have done much for your game. Hope you’ve entered us for the mixed doubles at the Allenbrooks’.’
And then Todd’s mother replied with icy disdain, ‘Of course, I always do. Although if I’m so bad at it, why would you want to play with me?’
‘Because you’re my wife.’ The angry, raspy voice must belong to Todd’s father. ‘And that’s what we do. Can you imagine if the McLennans didn’t show up?’ The voice lowered with a hint of incipient menace. ‘I expect you to behave in a fitting manner. The Allenbrooks are big sponsors at the golf club, not to mention Jeff Allenbrook is now the CEO at the bank. And Jeanie Allenbrook seems to like you.’ This was added with decidedly unkind incredulity.
‘Why, thanks. I’m so glad I’m useful for something,’ Celine spat. ‘You have no idea, have you? No concept of how much work goes into running this house? The apartment in Manhattan? The ski-lodge in Aspen? You think everything magically appears on the table? The menus choose themselves? The designers throw up the decorations without a brief?’ The pitch of her voice rose with each sentence with the power of a soprano. ‘You think it’s easy entertaining your important guests, business contacts? You seem to think I sit here twiddling my thumbs.’
‘You’re being emotional again, Celine.’
‘Emotional,’ screeched Todd’s mother. ‘You think this is emotional?’
Todd closed his eyes and winced, freezing in anticipation.
There was an almighty crash. ‘That’s emotional.’
‘Pull yourself together, woman.’
Todd suddenly looked up and, following his gaze, Sophie could see Marty plugged into his phone, heading down the stairs. Todd grasped the handle and marched in.
‘Marty will be here any moment. At least try and be civil in front of him,’ he snarled in a voice that Sophie had never heard him use before.
Celine hastily schooled her face while an older-looking version of Todd sighed impatiently.
‘We’ll have drinks in the salon while Mahalia cleans up in here.’ He looked pointedly at the floor where a thousand shards of crystal were strewn. There was a definite indentation in the wall above. ‘And I’ll thank you, Todd, not to take that tone with us.’
‘Marty darling, take those ridiculous earphones off your head.’ Celine’s voice was suddenly sugar sweet.
‘Yes son, you look like hoodlum.’ Todd’s father glanced at him, a quick enough once up and down, as if to check he met with approval. ‘And tuck your shirt in. You’re not a child any more. Unlike your brother, who seems to have forgotten that we dress for dinner.’
Marty tucked in his shirt, his face an exact copy of Todd’s, completely devoid of expression.
Sophie realised that she’d edged closer to Todd. Neither his mother nor father had acknowledged her, for which she was fervently grateful. It felt as if she’d been pitched headfirst into a play as an understudy without a script. It also struck her that she’d never seen Todd dressed less than impeccably.
‘Dad, this is my friend Sophie. She’s renting Bella’s apartment over the business for a couple of months. She’s over from England. Sophie, my dad, Ross.’
‘England. London?’ With an utterly charming smile, as if the last ten minutes had never happened, he stepped forward and took her hand to shake it. ‘Does that mean you like gin? We have an excellent selection, don’t we Celine? I believe the rhubarb is particularly good.’ The sudden turnabout in tone and atmosphere, as Todd’s mum’s face transformed with an obliging smile, threw her.
‘I … er, yes,’ said Sophie, completely confused.
‘Excellent.’ With smooth, pleased confidence, he ushered her and Celine towards the salon. ‘Come and have a drink before dinner.’
The sofas in the salon were built for style rather than comfort and Sophie had to hold herself upright, clutching her gin as the conversation unfolded. Luckily years of training kicked right in and she was able to summon up her very best social manners to tide her through the odd undercurrents.
‘Todd, would you pop down and tell Chef we’ll be ready for dinner in twenty minutes?’
‘I thought you’d already—’
‘Todd, do as you mother tells you.’ Despite the snapped order, Todd rose slowly and ambled out of the room. At the door he shot Sophie a quick anxious look and she responded with a reassuring smile.
‘Celine tells me you work …’ Ross paused as if that was bad enough before adding, ‘… you’re a colleague of Todd’s at the magazine place.’ He and his wife sat side by side, suddenly unified in a powerhouse pose that reminded her of formal historical family portraits. She didn’t think it was an unconscious pose.
‘I am.’
‘And what is it you do?’ asked Celine.
‘I’m a food writer.’ Sophie smiled, exuding serenity.
‘How fascinating.’ Celine leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with sudden avaricious interest. ‘So you know all about trends in food? The next big thing.’
‘I guess,’ said Sophie. ‘I meet a lot of people in the food world, so you pick up on that sort of thing.’
‘Excellent, because I am so over quinoa and goji
berries.’
‘Please tell me red meat is back in,’ said Ross, amusement lighting his face and instantly reminding her of Todd. ‘Not that I’m complaining, Celine runs a great home.’ He preened a little and looked fondly at his wife. ‘Everyone knows she throws the best parties. People love coming here for dinner.’
‘Now, Ross darling. I’m sure you’re exaggerating.’ She laid her hand on his, the light catching the array of diamonds on her wedding finger.
Sophie schooled her face, hoping the amazement didn’t show. Ten minutes ago, it sounded as if they’d been ready to kill each other.
‘Ah Todd.’
‘Chef says he’s serving now.’
Celine rolled her eyes and sighed in a winsome, what-can-you-do sort of way. ‘Oh, that man. We only put up with him because he cooks like an angel, but he does have a dreadful tendency to forget who he’s working for. But,’ she brushed a weary hand across her forehead and Sophie had to pinch her lips together, ‘that’s the price you pay for greatness.’
‘And I’m paying a hefty price,’ added Ross. ‘He’s the best-paid chef on the island.’ The latter was added with bombastic pride.
They moved through to the dining room to sit at a formally laid table. Despite there only being five of them, there was a full set of crystal glasses, an ornate place setting of what looked like gold-plated cutlery and damask napkins wrapped in a golden laurel-leaf-shaped napkin ring.
The first course, a delicately flavoured saffron broth with mussels, was brought in by Mahalia with great ceremony and Sophie had to admit the chef was some kind of genius.
‘What can you taste, Sophie?’ asked Celine, watching her as she took a considered mouthful.
‘Fennel? Cream.’
‘Yes!’ She clapped her hands in delight. ‘You do know what you’re talking about.’
‘I’m pleased to see you parked that eyesore of a car out of sight this time.’ Ross’s voice cut through and there was a definite pause in the chink of cutlery on china, a palpable heaviness in the air.
Todd gave his father a level look and carried on eating.
‘It shows some maturity at last. Can I assume that you might be coming to your senses and considering gainful employment?’
Todd’s mouth flattened. ‘I have gainful employment. I receive a salary each month.’
‘Chicken feed. You need to get some corporate experience. I’ve been talking to Wayne Fullerton—’
‘Dad, I’m not going to work in a merchant bank. Not now. Not ever.’
‘Do you realise that what you do reflects on me? You look like a lightweight. Partying is not a man’s job.’
‘Ross,’ interjected Celine. ‘He’s networking with some of the best-connected people in Manhattan. Just last month Joyce Weinerberg said she and her husband saw Todd at the Guggenheim fundraiser.’
‘Great, when’s he going to use those connections?’ Ross glared at Todd. ‘And what sort of example is it setting Marty? The boy’s flunking his grades. Sees his big brother bumming around in the city. Where’s the incentive for him to do well? No wonder his mid-term papers were all C’s.’
Marty’s head drooped.
‘Yes, you.’
‘Dad, I don’t think now’s the time for this conversation,’ Todd said firmly.
‘No, you’re right,’ said Ross. ‘Let’s talk about Wayne Fullerton’s boys. The elder one’s just got into Harvard. The younger one scored the highest in his SATs in the whole state. Joyce Weinerberg’s grandson landed an internship at Goldman Sachs and her granddaughter is playing the cello with the New York Symphony Orchestra.’
‘That girl is so talented,’ chipped in Celine. ‘And didn’t the grandson get a scholarship to Princeton?’
‘I believe he did.’
Sophie caught Todd’s eye. Why wasn’t he telling them about the awards he’d won? There were several lining the shelf behind his desk. He was a talented writer and several of his more in-depth feature pieces had been picked up by the New York Times.
Ross and Celine continued to reel off various friends’ offspring’s super-achievements, throughout which Marty seemed to shrink into his seat.
‘Wow, this looks amazing,’ gushed Sophie when the main course arrived. ‘I haven’t had beef tournedos for years. It’s such a classic dish. Did you know it was created in honour of the Italian composer Rossini?’
‘I did not know that,’ said Celine. ‘You hear that, Ross? This girl knows her food.’
‘I’ve eaten some amazing food in New York.’
‘Yes, we have some of the best restaurants. There’s a new one opened. Ross has been promising to take me, haven’t you darling?’
‘And I will as soon as I can get a table.’
Celine’s pout was a picture.
‘Darling, I promised you. I’ll make it happen.’
‘By the time we get there, it will be old news.’
‘Where is it?’ asked Todd. ‘I might be able to help.’
‘I doubt it,’ said Ross, tucking into the steak with gusto. ‘Onyx is booked solid for months.’
‘Oh! Todd took me there two weeks ago. Oh my goodness, the kobo beef is to die for.’ Sophie beamed across the table at him. ‘And what was that fabulous dish you had?’
Todd’s mouth quirked. ‘You mean the shrimp with langoustine custard and caviar. And don’t forget the foraged mushroom emulsion.’
‘Or the black champagne,’ added Sophie with a naughty twinkle in her eye.
‘Black champagne!’
Todd coughed, holding his napkin over his face.
‘That sounds divine. What a fabulous idea. Black and gold.’ Celine clapped her hands. ‘Sophie, where do I buy black champagne? Ross, do you think you could get some flown in for the party tomorrow?’
‘Sure, darling. Now that will make a statement. I bet Jeff and Jeanie Allenbrook won’t be serving black champagne at the tennis tournament.’
The rest of the meal was consumed by the subject and Celine’s musing on what else she could come up with to complete the theme. At last Mahalia came in to take orders for coffee and Marty announced he had an assignment for school to finish and scuttled away.
‘Fancy a stroll on the beach?’ asked Todd as Sophie drained her coffee cup. The start of a headache pinched at her temples.
Todd’s offer of an escape to the beach came not a moment too soon.
‘That would be lovely,’ she said, jumping to her feet. Oh heavens, was it that obvious she was so desperate to get away? ‘Thank you for a wonderful meal. That syllabub was amazing. I was trying to identify the flavour. Was it yuzu? I’d love to talk to your chef sometime.’ Her words ran together in haste, even as she was backing out of the room.
Once out of the dining room, Todd took her hand and they ran out of the house, and they kept running until they reached the path down to the beach.
‘Jeez, I’m sorry.’ Todd’s shoulders were hunched up to his ears when they finally came to a halt and sat down side by side amongst the scrubby grass at the top of the sand dunes. ‘I shouldn’t have subjected you to that. Each time I leave, I think it can’t be as bad as I remember. And each time I come back, it’s worse.’
‘It’s … not …’ No, she couldn’t lie. ‘Yeah, it is that bad.’ She shuffled closer to him to take the sting out of her uncharacteristically blunt words, so that they were hip to hip. She couldn’t lie to him but it went against the grain to make him feel any worse.
She slipped her arm through his and squeezed, her heart ached for him. ‘Do they have any idea what they’re doing to Marty?’
‘You got that?’ Todd turned to face her, worrying at the hairline of his temples with one hand. ‘Actually, he is super-bright. A bit of a computer genius, but they have no idea. He deliberately doesn’t make any effort at school. Does no work. He stays out of trouble, so keeps below the radar but he doesn’t do more than the bare minimum. He puts all the effort into working out how little he needs to do to not get booted out but eno
ugh to stay beyond notice. His way, I guess, of flipping the bird to the parents. You don’t see me, so I’m not going to do anything to try and please you.’ Todd suddenly sighed, shuffling close to her. ‘It’s not funny and I am seriously worried he’s going to get into big trouble one day. Skip the minor stuff and go straight for the big time. He got into Dad’s computer, reset all the passwords and managed to get into his bank account and tripled his monthly allowance. They had no idea until I made Marty tell them what he’d done. Dad assumed Mom made the change, she assumed Dad did, so he got away with it for months. As you probably saw, their communication is … confusing. I thought if they knew what he could do, they might be concerned and keep an eye on him. Stop him doing something really dumb like hacking into the Pentagon. But they don’t get it.’
‘From what I’ve seen of your Dad, I can’t imagine that went down well.’ Underneath Ross McLennan’s charming bonhomie, there was an inflexibility and a ruthless need to be top dog.
‘Dad reamed him. A full hour’s lecture on what a disappointment Marty was, but it was a ten-second wonder. Naughty Marty. Don’t do it again. Took his Xbox away and locked it in a cupboard for a month.’ Todd sighed and then added, with a reluctant laugh, ‘Little sod, bought another and a brand-new TV with Dad’s credit card and holed up in one of the suites on the top floor that’s hardly ever used. He had it all set up. They never even noticed. I didn’t bother telling them that time.’
Sophie laughed and slapped her hand over her mouth. ‘Oops. I shouldn’t laugh, but I like that Marty still managed to come out on top, but it’s pretty tragic that your parents had no idea he was doing that.’
‘Too busy with their own lives.’
‘Yes,’ said Sophie, ‘I … er …’
‘Don’t worry, nothing you say about them is going to offend me.’
‘They seem quite … erm, self-absorbed.’
‘That’s putting it mildly.’
‘And I couldn’t figure it. Do they love or hate each other?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t think they know.’ Todd sounded weary. With one arm looped through his, Sophie pulled him closer and laid her hand over his where it lay on his thigh. ‘One minute they’re at each other’s throats, the next they’re making big extravagant gestures. Dad will present Mom with a new car or a pair of diamond earrings, but everyone will know he’s bought it for her as a surprise.’ He laced his fingers through hers almost absently. ‘They seem to revel in the drama of it all. As a kid it’s horrible to be around. The constant bickering and sniping at each other. And then over-the-top declarations of affection. You walk on eggshells the whole time. That’s why I worry about Marty. He’s got no one, but at least I had Bella. And her folks.’