Sitting up abruptly, causing the water to almost slosh over the sides of the large Victorian tub with the momentum, Imogen was struck by a vicious clarity. She needed to get a hold of herself. Stop all this silly daydreaming about the past and forge a way out of the present mess she was in without detection; she owed it to her daughter, to the friends that had risked so much to help her – and above all, she owed it to herself. Only she knew that with Mickey, it would be tough. She had never been able to lie to those she loved. And the fact was, though time had made them strangers, she did still love him. Truth was, she had never really stopped.
CHAPTER 56
It would be fair to say that the weather in Nice was nothing short of spectacular. The sun shone high and fierce in the sky, causing the heat to rise up from the roads and the air to ripple. A little later in coming than was usual for the time of year, the French were already calling it ‘une été Indien’ and flocking to the coast on their boats; the wealthy and beautiful all there to see and be seen.
‘It’s perfect driving weather,’ Yasmin remarked as she attempted to put the Porsche Cayman in gear, the loud crunch causing both her and Jeremy to wince.
‘You need to put your foot right down on the clutch, Yasmin,’ Jeremy instructed, a little apprehensively. It was the first time he had been a passenger in a car with his wife driving and he was a tad nervous to say the least.
‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ Jeremy asked, wishing they could’ve just stayed at the hotel and watched the La Perla fashion show that was taking place this afternoon instead. It appealed far more than traipsing all the way up some mountain just to have a look at a few crumbling old villages, that was for sure. ‘It’s a hell of a climb and it looks as though the air con’s playing up.’ He fiddled with a few buttons impatiently. ‘We’ll expire in this heat.’
‘Oh come on, darling,’ Yasmin prodded his chubby leg playfully, leaving an indentation mark on his white skin. ‘Where’s your sense of adventure? I had the chef at The Château prepare us the most divine picnic lunch – fois gras and sashimi – two of your favourites, and we’ve a few bottles of ice cold Veuve Clicquot to enjoy.’ She glanced sideways at her husband who appeared to be sulking.
‘Anyway, I thought we could find a secluded little spot somewhere for our lunch. You know, where no one will see us.’ She ran her hand along his hairy, meaty thigh and up towards his crotch.
‘Well, I suppose it could be fun,’ Jeremy conceded grumpily, his double chin juddering with the uphill momentum of the car. ‘Though I still think we might’ve hired ourselves a driver for the afternoon. I mean, have you seen just how steep those cliffs are?’ He looked up towards the imposing Var Valley. ‘They’ve got to be at least five hundred metres high.’
‘Seven hundred to be exact,’ Yasmin replied breezily. Jeremy turned to her, surprised. ‘I read it in the tour guide back at The Château,’ she explained.
‘And there was me thinking you only ever read Vogue,’ he teased her.
Yasmin laughed.
‘Oh, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Jeremy,’ she smiled wickedly.
That morning Yasmin had woken her husband especially early so that they could get a good start ahead of the weather. ‘We don’t want to be driving in the midday heat,’ she had remarked, shaking him awake. ‘And don’t forget to pack a camera.’ Jeremy had groaned as he dragged his overweight, unfit body into the en-suite wet room and gasped as a cool blast of water from the shower hit his milky white skin, forcing him from his sleep-induced coma. He had never seen her so determined.
Yasmin had watched with barely concealed disgust as a naked Jeremy had walked from the bedroom, his hairy pink backside wobbling like a blancmange behind him, back fat hanging in fleshy rolls from his large frame.
Everything Yasmin had done, every sacrifice she had made, had culminated in this day. Today was going to be beautiful, perfect even. Today, Stacey Jones would finally, after what had felt like a lifetime, avenge her sister’s death.
‘This seat is terribly uncomfortable,’ Jeremy whinged, attempting to adjust himself, his knees lodged uncomfortably up towards his chest, his imposing bulk seeming to take up half the entire car space. ‘I say, they certainly didn’t build these things with comfort in mind, did they?’
Yasmin grinned and said breezily, ‘Not long now, darling. We’re almost at the top!’
Jeremy rolled his eyes and said a secret prayer to himself. He wished he’d just organised a chopper to fly them up to the bloody mountaintop. They’d be there and back again in a quarter of the time. As it was, the way things were going, it would be a miracle if they made it to the top in one piece.
‘Easy on the accelerator, darling,’ Jeremy said, panic seeping through his affable tone. ‘We really are terribly high up.’
‘What’s the matter, don’t you trust me?’ She cast him a mocking glance.
‘Of course I trust you,’ came the riposte. ‘But we’re on a bloody knife’s edge here, and your driving is a little erratic to say the least. Slow down a bit, there’s a good girl.’
‘Of course, darling, if that’s what you want,’ Yasmin laughed manically, pressing down on the accelerator a touch harder. ‘How about a little music? Get us in the mood, eh?’
‘Why not,’ Jeremy sighed, acquiescing. He felt sick. There was little point in suggesting they turn back now despite his instincts telling him everything to the contrary. Besides, they couldn’t even if they wanted to. The road was far too narrow. Attempting a U-turn would be suicidal. The only way back down, so it seemed, was to make it to the top.
Jeremy glanced nervously out of the window at the vertical drop below and felt a chill run the length of his spine.
‘Perhaps I’ll drive on the way back,’ he suggested, watching in barely concealed horror as she haphazardly turned the wheel, teetering dangerously close to the road’s edge. ‘Give you a break.’
‘If you like, darling.’ Yasmin continued to chuckle with abandon as that morning’s coke binge held her tightly in its manic grip. She was thoroughly enjoying watching her husband squirm, and was in half a mind to confess to him that she had snorted half a gram of the finest powder his money could buy before getting behind the wheel that morning, that would really shut the murdering old fucker up.
Yasmin glanced sideways at her husband and pushed a CD into the stereo.
‘Don’t tell me,’ Jeremy remarked dryly, ‘Chris Rea’s Road to Hell.’
‘Oh, darling, you are funny,’ Yasmin replied, collapsing into false laughter.
Stupid old bastard, she thought to herself as she threw her head back. He had no idea just how close to the truth he really was.
CHAPTER 57
‘Just a little further,’ Calvary said, barely able to contain her excitement as she covered Josia’s eyes with her hands and led him out of the elevator and to the vast doors of apartment 166.
‘Seriously, Calvary, can I look now?’ Josia said a little tremulously. ‘You know I’m not big on surprises.’
‘We’re almost there,’ she sang. ‘Watch your step! And keep your eyes closed until I say so,’ she said bossily as she swung the doors open. ‘No peeking!’
Josia shook his head and sighed. ‘You’re making me nervous.’
‘You can look now,’ Calvary said triumphantly, dropping her hands from his face and watching as he fluttered his watery blue eyes open.
‘Ta-da!’ She clasped her hands together and raised her eyebrows. ‘What do you think?’
Josia stood inside the living room of the enormous penthouse, the panoramic view of the London skyline staring back at him from the floor to ceiling sliding glass doors, and looked around in a visible state of perplexity.
‘Don’t you just adore the view?’ she trilled. ‘The light is absolutely perfect for painting – and I chose all the soft furnishings myself.’ She sighed. ‘And just wait until you see the bedroom! It’s wall to wall Ralph Lauren! I didn’t go overboard on the artwork though, I want
ed you to have some input of your own, after all you’ll be living here too, and … well, come on then, say something!’
Josia was, quite literally, lost for words.
‘You have got to be kidding me?’ he finally said.
‘Don’t you like it?’ she said, reading his expression and suddenly feeling a little crestfallen by his obvious lack of enthusiasm. She had gone to great lengths to find an apartment for them and this was not the reaction she had expected. ‘It’s the colour, isn’t it? The French Grey. It’s too dark, isn’t it? Too austere. I must admit I had reservations myself but …’
Josia shook his head. ‘No, Calvary. It’s not the paint. The paint’s fine.’
‘Then what is it?’ she pouted. ‘Oh, darling, I thought you’d be pleased. A place of our own! Somewhere we can be together properly like we discussed. I couldn’t bear that poky little apartment of yours any longer. This way we can see each other whenever we want to, for as long as we want to, in pure unadulterated luxury.’ Calvary twirled around the room in an over-dramatic effect, her silk Chloe dress making a circle as she spun. She had wanted to make this moment special for them both and had even arranged for a superb three course lunch with champagne to be served on the heated terrace as an extra surprise.
Josia stared at her for the longest moment and thought how beautiful she looked, her megawatt smile bringing sunshine into the room, the swell of her chest from underneath the soft silky fabric of her dress, and her hair, scraped back from her face, loose tendrils framing her prominent cheekbones. He wondered just how someone quite as beautiful and smart as she was could get it all so terribly wrong.
‘You bought this place? For us?’
‘Yes!’ Calvary squealed. ‘Well, not bought it exactly. I’ve negotiated a fixed six month rental with a view to buy at the end of it. Aren’t I clever? There’s a Jacuzzi and a steam room, an en-suite in the bedroom, all mod cons in the kitchen – the appliances are all Bodum and Alessi. Go ahead, look!’ she said, clapping her hands together twice, causing the lighting in the open plan kitchen to dim. ‘It’s magic!’
Josia walked over towards the gigantic glass wall that overlooked the bustling streets of Mayfair and looked out onto the view, his heart heavy.
‘It’s got twenty-four hour porterage – and – here’s the best bit – room service!’ Calvary continued, animated. ‘It’s like a hotel but isn’t a hotel. A hometel if you like.’
Pleased with herself, she let out a small squeal of delight.
‘It’s lovely, Calvary. Really,’ he said flatly.
‘I knew you’d like it!’ she gushed, overcome with a sense of relief. It had been a bloody awful week, what with the security guard still in hospital and the police beginning to sniff around. She had needed this to lift her mood.
‘But there’s no way on God’s green earth I’m moving in here.’
Calvary felt her euphoria pop like a bubble.
‘What do you mean?’ she said, her excitement halted in its tracks. ‘But this is everything we had planned! A place of our own, to be together, that’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?’
Josia turned to her, a strange solemn expression on his boyish face, one she hadn’t seen before. One that made her nervous.
‘It is what I want, Calvary, believe me. I want nothing more than for us to be together. To have a home of our own. But not like this.’ He stood opposite her, his brow furrowed, accentuating those little wrinkles across his nose that she enjoyed so much. ‘Besides, renting a place like this must cost a small fortune.’
‘Two thousand a week, actually,’ she replied sheepishly.
‘That’s ten thousand a month!’ he shrieked. ‘You know I could never afford it.’
‘Nonsense, darling,’ Calvary waved his words away. ‘I’m paying the rent. You can settle the room service bill each month if it makes you feel better.’
‘For God’s sake, Calvary!’ Josia shouted. He had never shouted at her before and it shocked her into a stunned silence. ‘I’m not a child! I thought we agreed that when the time was right we would look for a place together. Choose somewhere we both wanted to live.’ Josia shook his head again, the frustration in him rising. ‘You knew I would never agree to living here, and that’s why you decided against telling me about it. I mean, look at it! It’s not a home, it’s a hotel! Did you honestly expect that I would give up my place, poky though it may be, and live here, like a kept man, for you to drop by and visit whenever you can fit me in around your busy schedule? Let’s face it, Calvary, it’s not you who’ll be paying the rent on this place, it’s him. Douglas. And eventually Douglas will want to come and take a look at his investment. And what will happen then? Will I have to hide in the wardrobe with my toothbrush?’ Her stunned expression caused him to feel a momentary flutter of regret, but he was just so angry.
‘Look,’ he said, his voice softening a little. ‘When I said I loved you, Calvary Rothschild, I meant it.’
‘Loved? You’re talking in the past tense already,’ Calvary said, her voice cracking like the embers of a bonfire.
‘And when I said I wanted us to be together, I meant – I mean – that too. But not like this,’ he shook his head, ‘definitely not like this.’
Calvary fought back the urge to burst into tears. She had been almost deranged with excitement about unveiling the apartment. She had expected him to be a little surprised, yes, but not this.
‘But … but I thought you’d be happy. I thought if anything you would thank me,’ she croaked, her words choking her. This was supposed to be a new start, the beginning of the rest of her life with a man she really loved. Now it felt as if she had made the biggest mistake of her life.
‘But you said …’
‘I know what I said!’ Josia snapped. ‘But you don’t listen, Calvary. You make all the right noises and nod in all the right places but you just don’t listen!’ He was so cross with her now that it was beginning to scare her. She had never seen him so upset. ‘I can no more live here than you can live in my poky little studio.’
Calvary snorted, suddenly feeling an attack of anger herself. ‘A rat would turn his nose up living in that place. This is everything we ever wanted – at least, I thought it was.’
Josia glared at her. ‘No, Calvary, it’s all you ever wanted,’ he said firmly. ‘My feelings don’t come into it. I wanted us to start off on an equal footing. I’m not this season’s handbag that you can just put in one of your walk-in closets and bring out every now and again. I’m a human being!’
Calvary pulled her head into her chin. ‘You make it sound as if I’m trying to buy you! Does it really matter which one of us has the money, for God’s sake? I mean, if it was you who held the purse strings then we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. A real man wouldn’t feel threatened by the fact that the woman he supposedly loved had money,’ Calvary said, unable to stop herself. ‘A real man would see that this makes perfect sense and wouldn’t be so bloody minded about everything. Besides, it won’t be long before people start snapping up your paintings and you’ll probably have more money than– ’
‘As much money as you and Douglas, eh?’ Josia flicked his mop of dark unruly curls from his brow, his usually soft expression hardening.
‘I didn’t mean it like that, I – ’
‘I know what you meant, Calvary,’ he said without looking at her.
They were silent for a moment and Calvary made her way over to the window where Josia stood looking over Mayfair.
‘Look, I’m sorry,’ she said, placing her hand on his arm and gently moving him away from the window. ‘I know I should’ve consulted you, but really, I did it all with the best intentions. I got ahead of myself, that’s all. Please don’t be so cross with me. I want what you want at the end of the day.’
Josia looked up at her and into her bright green eyes, wondering why he loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone else before. They were so very different. Chalk and cheese. Calvary’s first love was mo
ney and he had been quite arrogant to think that he would ever be able to change that. He glanced around the apartment, at the plush soft furnishings she had lovingly hand chosen for them, that had probably cost the equivalent of a lottery win and he knew that it would never work.
‘But that’s just it,’ he said sadly. ‘We don’t want the same things, do we? You want … you want this – and me, well, I just want you. I don’t care about any of it. The fancy lighting and the Jacuzzis, the en-suites and the under-floor heating.’ He gestured around the apartment accusingly, as if somehow the fixtures and fittings had personally slighted him.
‘Please don’t say that,’ she replied quietly.
‘It won’t work,’ Josia said, taking hold of her hand. ‘I love you but it won’t work. It’s best we say goodbye now. Before we cause each other more pain. You are you – and I love you because of who you are. To try and change you would be wrong. Our worlds are just too different.’
‘You don’t mean that,’ she found herself saying in panic. ‘Don’t give up on me now. I need you. For God’s sake, I love you!’ She hated herself for begging.
Josia felt his chest constrict. He had never wanted this to happen and he cursed himself for ever having allowed it to.
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