Outrageous Fortune

by Lulu Taylor

  Together they discovered how to please each other: the way her nipples responded to firm sucking, stoking her internal fire and making her desperate for him to enter her, or the way he could bring her to an exquisite climax by tantalising her pussy with his tongue and then thrusting hard inside and inciting her shudder of pleasure with firm strong movements. She loved it when he reached his own peak, his face contorting with the exquisite agony, and the delicious release.

  They drove each other wild, and satisfied one another’s desire many times on those pink nylon sheets, and afterwards whispered that they loved each other.

  Love at last. Chanelle was happy for the first time in her life. Her world was Jamal, and she was his.

  When the year came to an end, Chanelle did not ask Gus for more dancing lessons. For the only time in her life, dancing was not her only passion. Now her world revolved entirely around Jamal and the activities of the Blacksmith Boys. Every minute that she wasn’t at home or at school, she was with them. The other boys looked up to her because they could tell their boss liked this girl better than any other he’d had before, and treated her with a respect they didn’t often show to girls. Plenty of them hung around the gang, trying to get favour with them; they were usually slept with, passed round and then cast aside. Some stayed a while, and helped the boys in their deals – girls could sometimes go places more quickly and easily than the boys, and they were less likely to be stopped by police.

  Jamal never asked Chanelle to carry anything for him, even when he showed no compunction about sending younger girls off with wraps in their purses to make an exchange in a shopping centre or round the back of a supermarket.

  ‘You know you’re precious, right?’ he said to her as they lay in bed together. He stroked one large hand over her head. ‘You’re my girl, right?’

  She nodded, full of happiness. There was nowhere in the world better than right here: in bed with Jamal, his long warm body pressed against hers, his arms around her. She’d never felt loved and cared for her in her life before now, and she luxuriated in the delicious feeling, craved it more than anyone craved the narcotics that Jamal supplied. He loves me, she marvelled. ‘I’m your girl,’ she whispered, and kissed him, the sweet soft touch of his lips sending tingles of pleasure all over her. She would never be tired of that kiss, she was certain of it.

  When their lips parted, he said, ‘For ever?’

  ‘For ever. You and me. For ever.’

  15

  DAISY STARED AT the figure in the bed in horror. Her mother had deteriorated so much since she had last seen her. There had been another stay in a convalescent home and then Julia had come back to Thornside for more rest and recovery. She lay now, a thin and shrunken figure, in her vast bed with its white silk counterpane and mountains of snowy pillows. Her fair hair looked thin and faded against the sheen of the silk.

  ‘Mummy,’ Daisy said in a half whisper as she approached and sat down in the pink damask-covered armchair next to the bed.

  Julia opened her eyes. They were bloodshot and yellowing, and her skin had a waxy tinge. Her cheekbones were almost visible below, as though her flesh had become very thin and almost translucent. She smiled as she looked at her daughter. ‘Daisy. Darling.’ Her voice was reedy and weak.

  ‘How are you, Mummy? You don’t look well.’ Daisy leaned forward and took her mother’s hand. It felt bony under her own smooth, warm one.

  Julia sighed. ‘I’m feeling better despite what those bloody doctors have done to me with their foul drugs. But I’ve missed you, darling.’ Her mother squeezed her hand. ‘You’re so grownup. Almost eighteen. Tell me, what has Daddy planned for you?’

  ‘A big party at the Florey,’ Daisy replied, smiling back. ‘All my schoolfriends, the girls from the Crillon Ball … I don’t know, hundreds. Will you be there, Mummy?’

  ‘Of course, if I possibly can. I shall look out my best dress and make sure I take a spin on the dance floor.’ Julia smiled again, though it seemed to cost her an effort.

  Daisy tried not to show her sadness. It was obvious her mother would be able to do little more than sit and watch, if she managed that. How had it come to this? Her beautiful vibrant mother reduced to a shadow of herself. Daisy longed with all her heart for Julia to get better – perhaps things would be different if she did, and they could be a happy family again. But slowly, inexorably, she seemed to be getting worse.

  ‘I’m so proud of you, darling. There’s so much I want to talk to you about, to discuss … if only I had the strength.’

  ‘You will, Mummy, you’ll get better, I know it.’

  ‘I want to, but it’s so hard.’ Her mother shifted closer towards her, her expression changing. She looked apprehensive, almost fearful. ‘Tell me – is your father here?’

  ‘Yes. He brought me down in the car.’

  ‘And … and is that woman with him?’

  ‘Margaret?’ Daisy nodded. ‘Of course.’ Margaret was Daddy’s new personal assistant and had swiftly made herself indispensable to him. Now she was always with Daddy, almost every moment of the day, brisk, efficient and almost ghostly in her ability to fade into the background whenever she wanted. Daisy couldn’t warm to her – despite her perfect manners and unfailing politeness, there was something chilly about the woman – but there was no questioning her ability to run Daddy’s life with astonishing smoothness. Any problem could be sorted instantly by Margaret, any arrangement put in place without fuss. Daisy rarely saw her father now without Margaret present, and they spent hours shut away together in Daddy’s office. Margaret had been in the car with them on the way down, in her usual businesslike costume of neat grey suit and low-heeled pumps, her dark hair with its unusual streak of white at the front pulled back into a neat bun, and gold-rimmed glasses framing her pale blue eyes.

  ‘I don’t like her, Daisy,’ Julia said urgently.

  Daisy shifted uncomfortably. It was true that Margaret took up a lot of Daddy’s time but she had also been careful to make sure that Daisy did not feel excluded from her father’s life. In recent months, he had been asking her to accompany him to many more of his business events. It was not unusual for Daisy to board the Dangerfield jet and fly to a lavish dinner in some city where she would accompany Daddy in place of her mother, dressed in designer gowns with sparkling jewels, dining on the finest food in the world and sipping the most expensive vintages, surrounded by businessmen and their glamorous well-dressed wives. They would fly back through the night – luckily the plane was equipped with two comfortable bedrooms – and she could be back in school the next day. Margaret’s arrival had not altered Daisy’s special place by Daddy’s side.

  ‘Be careful of her, do you promise me?’ Julia pushed herself up on one elbow with an effort and stared earnestly at her daughter. ‘And of him.’

  ‘Daddy?’ Daisy frowned, puzzled.

  ‘Yes. Him. Daisy, I—’

  The door opened and a nurse came through with a tray laden with a glass of water and a selection of pills on a silver plate. Julia broke off at once.

  ‘Hello, Lady Julia, I’ve brought your mid-morning medications.’ The nurse smiled at Daisy. ‘Good morning, miss.’

  Julia stared at the nurse, her eyes resentful. ‘I don’t want them,’ she said defiantly.

  ‘Now, now, Lady Julia, none of that! We have this all the time. You need your medicine. It makes you better.’

  ‘So you say,’ she retorted. ‘And if I disagree, you force it on me!’

  The nurse laughed cheerfully. ‘What a silly story! Your daughter won’t know you’re joking.’ She shot a glance at Daisy and said quietly, ‘She’s often like this. It’s a side-effect of the medication. You mustn’t worry.’

  ‘I heard that,’ Julia snapped. Her strength seemed to leave her then and she fell back on the pillow. ‘I don’t care if you eavesdrop or not, or what you report back. You’re not going to stop me talking.’

  ‘Of course not,’ soothed the nurse.

  ‘What is it,
Mummy?’ Daisy asked, leaning forward and clasping her mother’s hand a little tighter. ‘What do you want to say?’

  Julia gazed at her earnestly and whispered, ‘You know how ruthless he can be, darling. You saw what happened to Will and Sarah.’

  Daisy blinked at her. ‘But they left us … Daddy was heartbroken.’

  ‘All the same, be careful, because—’

  The door swung open again at the same moment as a sharp knocking rang out. Margaret stood in the doorway. ‘I do apologise for interrupting, Lady Julia, but Daisy is required downstairs. Daisy – your father wants to see you right now.’

  ‘Yes, I’m coming.’ She released her mother’s hand and stood up. ‘I’ll be back later, Mummy.’

  ‘Yes, sweetheart. I’ll see you then.’ Julia managed a forlorn smile. ‘Don’t be long.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  But when she finally managed to get back from the long discussion about her shoe business and its expansion, the nurse was sitting outside her mother’s room. There was no seeing the patient, she explained, she was sleeping. Perhaps later. Daisy did not see her mother again before it was time to return to London and school.

  ‘Daddy!’ she cried. She looked at him, laughing. He was grinning broadly, clearly delighted with her reaction.

  ‘Do you like it, darling?’

  There on the road in front of the Belgravia house was a beautiful shining BMW 3-series convertible in a shade of palest sugar pink. A giant silver bow was wrapped around it.

  ‘It’s a customised colour,’ Daddy said proudly. ‘That shade is now called “Daisy Dangerfield Pink”.’

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, still laughing, ‘but Daddy – I can’t drive!’

  ‘I know. Margaret’s arranged some lessons. You can start learning whenever you want.’

  Daisy dashed up to him and threw her arms around him, kissing him on the cheek. ‘Thank you, thank you!’ she said. ‘It’s wonderful.’ They linked arms and walked back inside the house.

  Back at the breakfast table, where Daisy was indulging in a birthday treat of blueberry pancakes with maple syrup, she opened her other presents: a pink Hermès Birkin handbag in softest emu leather, customised with a stamped motif of a small gold daisy; and an exquisite necklace of eighteen diamond daisies that flashed and sparkled as they slipped through her fingers.

  ‘Oh, Daddy,’ she said, flushing with pleasure, ‘thank you. It’s beautiful. I’ll wear it at the party tonight.’

  ‘I have something else for you – a card from your mother.’ He held out the small white envelope.

  Her good mood became sombre as she took it. Opening it, she read her mother’s brief birthday message. It was signed: ‘With much love, Mummy’. Daisy looked up at her father. ‘I wish she was well enough to be with us.’

  ‘I know, Princess, so do I. But she’s being taken good care of at Thornside. We’ll send her lots of pictures of the party.’ He smiled at her fondly. ‘Now, don’t you have an appointment or two?’

  Daisy glanced down at her Cartier watch. ‘Oh, yes, I’ll be late.’ She jumped up and kissed her father’s cheek. ‘I’ll see you later, Daddy, at the Florey.’

  ‘The Dangerfield Florey, darling. Yes, I’ll see you later. Have a happy day.’

  As a further birthday treat, Daisy and her three closest friends had been given one of Daddy’s special black credit cards and they were taken to Bond Street in the Rolls. It followed them at a discreet distance while they made their purchases and loaded up the car with the enormous bags.

  They bought cocktail dresses in Chanel, Burberry, Dior and Gucci, shoes in Prada and Jimmy Choo, silk scarves in Hermès, and evening bags in Bottega Veneta and Alexander McQueen. Daisy found herself a slinky party dress in Dolce & Gabbana to go with some extraordinary yellow Versace heels that she was going to wear to the party that night.

  After the exhausting spree, they went to the Dangerfield Florey for an inspection of Daisy’s little shoe shop, which her friends cooed and shrieked over, and then had a light lunch in the bistro, where they chatted about their futures over poached salmon salad and a glass of champagne.

  ‘Can you believe we’re nearly out of that dump of a school?’ demanded Lucy Critchlow-Browning. ‘Five more months and it’s all over! Thank Christ.’

  ‘Yeah, but we’ve got A-levels first,’ said Antonia Rushton gloomily. ‘I just know I’m going to fail all of them.’

  ‘What does that matter when you’re not going to university anyway?’ asked Lucy sweetly. ‘Haven’t you got a year off to go skiing?’

  ‘I’m helping with a friend’s skiing company,’ Antonia said in a hurt voice. ‘Not just skiing.’

  ‘Answering phones in the morning, skiing the best runs in the afternoon, bopping away in local nightclubs with ski instructors in the evening. Yeah, like, really hard work!’ Lucy rolled her eyes and they all laughed, even Antonia.

  Daisy picked up a piece of salmon on her silver fork. ‘I can’t wait to get to Brown,’ she said. ‘It’s going to be amazing.’

  ‘You’re so lucky,’ Fiamma Beaumont said wistfully. ‘I can’t wait to go to Aberdeen, even if Daddy has halved my allowance for not getting into Cambridge, but America sounds miles more glamorous.’

  Daisy smiled at her. ‘I know. It’s all planned. Three years at Brown, then maybe a year at Stanford Business School, depending on my grades, and then I’m joining the family firm.’

  Lucy made a face. ‘I bet it’s not in the post room, either! That’s not really your daddy’s style, is it?’

  ‘No, not really.’ Daisy laughed. ‘He wants me to become a trainee director with promotion to the board the moment I’ve proved myself.’

  ‘What about your shoe line?’ Antonia asked. ‘It’s so gorgeous! You must keep doing it. I die for the python ballet slippers!’

  ‘Oh, I’ll keep that going while I’m at university, to keep my hand in. Later I might diversify a bit – but property will always be our priority.’ She looked about. ‘Hotels like this, in particular.’

  ‘Amazing to have your life sorted like that,’ Fiamma said enviously. ‘Especially as it’s what you want to do.’

  ‘Of course.’ Daisy gave her a puzzled smile. What on earth else was there to do? This was all that she’d ever considered. She’d never even bothered thinking of anything else.

  ‘Come on, then,’ Lucy prodded her. ‘We’re dying to know. What did Daddy get you for your birthday?’

  ‘Um …’ Daisy looked a bit abashed. Even though she was used to her father’s grand gestures, she was aware that they could appear over the top to others. ‘Well … this …’ She picked up her Hermès Birkin and displayed it for them.

  ‘Very pretty!’ said Antonia admiringly. ‘I’ve been staring at it all morning, you lucky thing.’

  ‘Beautiful,’ sighed Fiamma, her blue eyes envious. She reached out a hand and stroked the buttery leather. ‘I want one. But Mummy just laughs when I ask.’

  ‘Come on,’ teased Lucy, grinning at Daisy. ‘That can’t be all! There must be more.’

  ‘Well …’ Daisy felt her face flush a little. ‘A BMW was waiting outside the house for me this morning.’

  Lucy burst out laughing. ‘How fantastic!’ she cried. ‘You can’t even drive. But I bags the first ride in it when you can!’

  ‘And there was a diamond necklace … But I’m just worried that’s not the last little surprise.’ Daisy shrugged almost ruefully. ‘What can I do? He loves to spoil me.’

  The hours after lunch were all about relaxation and preparation for the party. The girls descended to the hotel basement which contained the beauty treatment rooms and spa, and spent a happy afternoon being pampered and massaged before visiting the hair salon. When they were properly smoothed and glowing, their hair glossy and swinging, they went upstairs to where Daddy had reserved one of the grand suites for them. Waiting were a manicurist, a make-up artist and yet another hairdresser, to get them looking their best for the party that evening.
A bottle of champagne was opened, some music was put on, and the girls bopped and drank happily as they prepared for the main event.

  By the time they were ready to go downstairs, they were all high with excitement. The party was going to be in the ballroom, with hundreds of people invited. Daisy had been allowed fifty invitations of her own – the rest had been taken by Daddy so that he could invite business associates and various important people he was keen to entertain. He had also hired a society consultant to advise him which of the younger crowd he should invite: sons and daughters of the aristocracy, oligarchy, or movers and shakers in the arts, movie, music and theatre scenes. ‘I want to make sure you have the right friends, darling,’ he had said to Daisy, showing her the guest list. ‘It’s important you are one of the gilded circle. Don’t forget, you can invite anyone you like to a private holiday in Thailand this summer – you will have the entire estate at your disposal, and the jet will be available to take you all there.’

  It was almost time to go downstairs. Daisy stood in front of the mirror in the Florey Suite, assessing her reflection and thinking over Daddy’s expectations of her. It was usual, she realised, for everything he gave her to come with a condition: it was hers, but at a price. The birthday party was to celebrate her eighteenth, but it was also intended to give Daddy extra kudos in his own world, and Daisy was expected to make the evening work for her on a social level. That was fine. She could do that. After all, she knew plenty of the trendy young things from school and the raves and parties she went to. Daddy didn’t need to worry about that.