Outrageous Fortune

by Lulu Taylor

  ‘It’s just what we all do,’ he’d said, with his customary lopsided smile and a little shrug. ‘One day we’ll grow up and be sensible. But not yet.’

  Coco picked up the file she’d brought along with her and sat down to look at it again. She knew it off by heart but needed to reassure herself that she was totally familiar with it. She flicked through the pages: it was all there. Will Dangerfield’s life story complete with photographs. Here he was a round-faced boy at pre-prep school, his hair bright ginger and his nose covered with freckles. There he was a skinny boy in a blazer, cap and long socks on his way to prep school, and then again in a white vest and shorts, proudly holding trophies and medals he’d won. She found his face in the rows of wide-eyed boys in his class photographs. Then he was leaving the safety of his prep school behind him and heading up to Winchester. He looked so young and serious, his curly red hair darkening a little and legs lengthening so that he was standing a head above his classmates. There weren’t many pictures after that, but there were some of him at university – the matriculation photograph of his year standing in front of their college library in their gowns and black ties, bright-eyed and excited at the prospect of their three years at Oxford, and another of him rowing for his college. She peered closely. It was hard to make him out in the crew of eight, and he was clearly concentrating on the job in hand, but he appeared to have left the gawky stage behind him: the muscles on his arms and thighs stood out with the effort he was making.

  Quite a nice body, she thought as she scrutinised it. But I don’t know if I could ever fancy someone with ginger hair.

  Along with the photographs there was the text, setting out all the stages of Will’s life. It appeared that even after he’d left his father’s house, close tabs had been kept on him at all times. His addresses were listed meticulously, along with the progress of his career. How had he gone from that innocent-looking schoolboy to a millionaire in his own right? The answer was simple: computer games. In his early twenties, Will had moved to LA and started a gaming company, hiring all the brightest talent he could recruit. His firm had been in from the very start on the craze for avatar-based games with the life game called Utopia, in which people had the chance to build a society along the lines they thought best, to see if their theories would work, whether they were socialist communes or capitalist markets. Utopia sold all over the world, as had all of its follow ups, and a dark, violent, post-Apocalyptic version called Dystopia had done even better. Each year the company released something new to great fanfare and excitement in the world of computer games, and had remained at the forefront of development. There was always some incredible new feature or improved graphics to keep fans buying and playing, and to keep Will’s company DeVision in a very healthy state indeed.

  And now he seemed to be enjoying the fruits of his success. An aerial photograph showed the house that she would be visiting tomorrow, if all went as planned, and it looked like something a film star might live in, with the usual squares of turquoise and green indicating pools and tennis courts.

  So why does he care what his dad is doing with the family money? It’s not as if he needs any of it. Coco narrowed her eyes. It’ll be interesting to find out.

  That evening, when Xander had woken up, sobered up and showered, they took a taxi to Matsuhisa in Beverly Hills for mouth-watering sushi at an eye-watering price, but Xander casually put it on his credit card and Coco guessed he must have been given some money for expenses. The city looked stunning as they returned along West Olympic Boulevard, the soft blue night sky illuminated by the brightly lit skyscrapers and the endless streams of traffic. Los Angeles seemed to go on for miles.

  When they got back to the hotel, Xander made the call while Coco sat on the sofa, her legs tucked up underneath her, listening anxiously.

  ‘Hey, Will, guess who? … Yeah, it’s Xander! Listen, it’s been bloody ages, how are you, mate? … Yeah, I’m great too. Guess what? I’m in LA for a bit and I thought I might pop round and see you, if you’re not up to anything … Tomorrow? Yeah. Sure. What’s the address? … Uh-huh.’ Xander scribbled on the desk pad. ‘Listen, I’ve got a friend with me. Can I bring her along? … Cool. See you tomorrow then. ‘Bye.’

  He clicked off his phone and looked over at Coco, smiling triumphantly. ‘There. It’s done. We’re in.’

  51

  THERE THEY ALL were, faces smiling out from the social network site.

  Sitting in the kitchen of her Bristol flat all alone, Daisy scrolled through her school friends, older now but unmistakably the same. Their privacy settings meant that she couldn’t access their profiles. She wondered if they were discussing her even now. She put her name into the search tool, just in case someone had set up a page to her memory, but no one had. There was another Daisy Dangerfield, but it wasn’t her. She felt obscurely jealous of the person who was allowed to use her name quite openly and without fear.

  She had run several internet searches a day on the death of Daisy Dangerfield ever since she’d seen that awful newspaper piece but had learned nothing new. The incident was reported identically by news agencies: an unfortunate accident due to faulty equipment, but it had been Daisy’s own, and she’d been alone when it happened. There was no one to blame. Very sad, but nothing more to be said on the subject.

  Daisy was chilled by the gruesomeness of investigating her own death. But what scared her more was the evidence of her father’s continued ruthlessness.

  He’d rather see me dead than ever have dealings with me again. She wondered for a moment if her scheme was going to bring her into deadly danger. How would he react when he discovered what she’d been doing all this time?

  Fuck him, she thought. Let him do his worst. I’m going to have my say, if it’s the last thing I do.

  The next time she met Lucy it was not in the Dangerfield Florey. Things seemed to have taken a much more dangerous turn since their relatively carefree lunch there. Instead, Daisy came to London wearing shades and a concealing hat, despite the fact that her eyes were still brown and her hair a sharp black, and she looked nothing like the girl who had been in the papers for a brief moment the previous week. She wore an unremarkable black suit and low-heeled shoes. The last thing she wanted was any attention.

  ‘Oh my God, Daisy!’ hissed Lucy, looking white-faced and nervous as she sat down at the bistro table. ‘This is bloody weird. What the hell is going on?’

  Daisy glanced around before saying in a low voice, ‘Did you call?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What did they say?’

  ‘No funeral. You were cremated in Thailand, apparently. Any donations in remembrance to be sent to the Dangerfield Foundation.’ Lucy’s eyes filled with tears and her lip quivered as she stared at her old friend. She put her hand out and grasped Daisy’s. ‘This is horrible … horrible! They say you’re dead! How could they do such a thing?’

  ‘It is horrible,’ Daisy said grimly, keeping her voice low. ‘They’re ruthless.’

  ‘I realise that now.’ Lucy shook her head slowly. ‘I honestly believed this would blow over. I really did. I couldn’t understand how a father could treat his own child so badly. It’s unbelievable …’

  ‘What did they say about the Dangerfield Foundation?’ interrupted Daisy, not wanting to dwell on the awfulness of her situation. She tried not to think about it – it curdled her insides when she did. Thank God for Lucy. Without her, Daisy worried that she might begin to think that she actually did not exist, and never had.

  Lucy leaned forward, her eyes wide. ‘I asked, like you said I should. But the woman on the phone told me to consult the website, that it was a wonderful force for good in the world and I should learn all about it. But when I looked, there was hardly anything there.’

  ‘The site is still under construction. It has been for months.’ Daisy frowned. ‘It’s very strange. Daddy always had things done quickly. I still can’t learn much about this mysterious foundation of his.’

  The waiter ca
me up and they both ordered a coffee. When he’d gone, Daisy said, ‘Luce, this is awful. It’s gone beyond a game now. Last time I was at the Florey, I saw my father’s PA Margaret arrive, and she had a glamorous young thing with her. A WAG type. Do you have any idea who she might be?’

  Lucy shook her head, looking puzzled. ‘None. Another assistant?’

  Daisy laughed. ‘I can really see Margaret wanting an assistant like that! The girl was done up to the nines.’ She sat back in her chair, feeling confused and deflated. ‘I can’t work it out. The internet doesn’t turn up anything. It’s a mystery.’

  ‘I’ll keep my ears open and see what I can find out.’ Lucy smiled at her then shook her head. ‘This is a bit like having coffee with a ghost. All the girls have been phoning up to talk about you.’

  ‘I wish I could have heard some of it, it might have cheered me up,’ joked Daisy. ‘I didn’t warrant much news space, did I?’

  ‘Yes, disappointing. Next time, remember to die when it’s a slow news week,’ returned Lucy, and the two of them laughed again, finding what humour they could in the situation.

  ‘Just keep pushing,’ said Daisy, ‘remember what we talked about.’

  ‘I will.’ Lucy smiled bravely. ‘You can count on me. I don’t care what that old bastard tries on.’

  Daisy smiled back and they clasped hands more tightly than ever.

  52

  XANDER HIRED A car and they drove up to West Hollywood, to an area in the Santa Monica Mountains above Sunset Boulevard known as the Bird Streets. The sun shone in a clear blue sky and everything gleamed in the sunlight. Picturesque, tree-lined roads wound through the hills, lined with massive house after massive house, of all varieties and styles, from modern mansions to medieval-looking castles, but each one on a large scale. Coco stared wide-eyed, amazed by the sheer size of everything. What could these places be like inside? Behind gated entrances she glimpsed beautiful landscaped grounds, pools and tennis courts, and the astonishing houses. They stopped at a large pair of gates set in a high manicured hedge and Xander pressed the electric buzzer in the wall, then spoke into the little grille. ‘It’s Xander McCorquodale, for Will Dangerfield.’

  There was a buzzing noise, the gates glided open and their car roared in, up a paved drive and round a small hill to the vast white-and-glass frontage of the house. Xander pulled the car to a stop and they got out.

  ‘Wow!’ Coco said, taking off her shades for a moment. She had dressed carefully in white jeans that showed off her long slim legs and an elegant pale blue top with a low, draping neckline. ‘I had no idea it would be so big.’

  ‘He can afford it,’ Xander said with a grin. ‘There’s money in them there games consoles. Come on.’

  They stood in front of an enormous blond-wood front door and Xander pressed the button on a panel built into the wall beside it. The door swung open. Coco caught her breath. This was it. Then she realised she was looking at a small Hispanic woman in a white uniform. Clearly not Will Dangerfield.

  ‘Good morning. Please come in.’ The woman stood back and when they had entered, closed the door. Coco looked about, blinking in the sudden dimness. They were in a vast hall area with doors to left and right. Huge works of modern art hung on the opposite walls. A large steel and glass staircase ascended to an upper level that also appeared to be constructed from glass and steel. The entire double-height back wall of the hall was made of glass, looking out over an immaculately tidy Japanese-style garden with long rectangular ponds stretching away beside miniature cherry trees. A wide glass-roofed corridor led from the hall alongside the garden to another whole wing of the house, and the maid took them down it, saying, ‘Mr William is in his office right now.’

  Coco’s heart was pounding and she tried to concentrate on breathing evenly. Any second now she was going to be put to the test. Would she be able to carry it off?

  As they passed an open door, she glimpsed a vast minimalist kitchen glittering white, then as they turned left along another glass-roofed corridor, so that they were now looking into the exquisite Japanese garden from the back, the maid stopped and knocked at a door.

  ‘Yeah?’ said a voice from inside.

  ‘Your guests, sir.’

  ‘Coming.’

  They waited for a few moments and then the door opened and Will Dangerfield was standing in front of them.

  There was a world of difference, Coco realised at once, between looking at someone in a photograph and meeting them in real life. Part of her had almost been expecting a gap-toothed schoolboy or a gangly teenager to appear. But nothing could have prepared her for the impact of meeting Will Dangerfield in the flesh. She felt punched in the stomach, almost winded.

  He was tall, much taller than she had realised. He had to be at least six foot four, maybe more, and was built to match his height. His broad shoulders and chest were firm-looking and well-muscled, she could tell that even under the tee-shirt he was wearing. His jeans – some brand she didn’t recognise but obviously very cool – sat loosely on his hips. She hadn’t been expecting his sheer physical presence or the way she felt instantly drawn to him. Her impulse was to reach out and touch him, to run her hands over the chest and firm biceps, to caress the neck and pull his face towards her.

  The face … She’d thought she knew what Will Dangerfield looked like, but now she realised she’d had no idea. She’d been imagining a boy and this was a man: square-jawed, with a touch of sulkiness about the well-formed mouth, a straight nose and eyes she could hardly stop staring at. They were green and hazel and flecked with coppery autumnal tones, well-shaped, with dark brows and lashes. He was handsome, she realised. She was suddenly reminded of statues of beautiful Roman men she’d seen at the V&A: naked men fighting snakes or dragons, with ridiculously gorgeous bodies and the faces of angels.

  She remembered how she’d told herself that she could never fancy a man with ginger hair. That felt as absurd now as saying she couldn’t fancy a man with two arms. Besides, his hair was the most wonderful colour she’d ever seen: dark copper, the colour of late-autumn leaves, and curling softly at the back of his neck and just behind his ears, though it was cut short to hide the curl elsewhere. She wanted to run her fingers through it and marvel at it.

  She felt dizzy, breathless, as though she’d just climbed off a particularly terrifying fairground ride and wasn’t quite sure of her footing. There was a strange thumping in her loins that was both pleasant and almost painful.

  And he was staring straight back at her, unblinking, his expression impossible to read.

  It had taken no more than two seconds for Coco to experience the extraordinary effects of instant lust.

  ‘Hey, Will mate!’ said Xander, oblivious to her reaction. He stepped forward, taking his friend’s hand, shaking it and clapping him on the arm at the same time. ‘How are you, old guy? Been a long time.’

  For a fraction of a second, Will continued staring at Coco, then he looked at Xander and a smile spread over his face.

  ‘Hi, Xander. Welcome! Great to see you. Come into my office.’ Will stood back so that they could both enter. It was large and light with another wall of glass, this time looking over a terrace and down towards a vast glittering swimming pool. A large U-shaped table ran around three walls of the room, loaded down with an extraordinary array of computer equipment – screens, speakers, editing suites, cables, drives and piles and piles of games. Power lights glowed red and green everywhere.

  ‘Ah, the power hub,’ Xander said, looking about. ‘The throbbing heart of your empire.’

  ‘This is just my home office,’ Will replied. ‘The real work goes on downtown where my team are slaving away right now.’ He looked round at Coco who quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed her staring at him. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us?’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ Xander said casually. He was giving it the full, laid-back LA vibe today, in his white trousers, baggy linen shirt and shades. ‘This is Coco, a friend from London. We’re
travelling together.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Will nodded.

  ‘Hi,’ Coco said. Her voice came out unaccustomedly high and light, as though she still hadn’t managed to get enough breath back into her body. Is this really me? she thought amazed. Am I actually being shy?

  ‘Hi.’ He gave her a fleeting smile and then his expression reverted back to its default setting: inscrutable with a hint of bolshiness at the mouth. ‘You guys want a drink or something?’

  ‘Yeah. That’d be good,’ Xander said. ‘I could kill a beer.’

  Will looked surprised. ‘At eleven-thirty in the morning?’

  ‘Any time is beer o’clock,’ declared Xander with a grin. ‘You’ve been out of London too long, mate. You’ve gone all healthy.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe you’re right.’ Will shrugged. ‘Have a beer if you want one. I’m gonna have iced coffee. Coco?’

  ‘Iced coffee sounds great.’ She was putting a lot of effort into maintaining her new accent. She mustn’t let it slip now, but the distracting presence of Will was making it hard to concentrate.

  He led them back along the hallway to the kitchen she had glimpsed earlier. It was dazzling in there, the Californian sun bouncing off all the clear white surfaces and making the bowl of oranges on the glass table look like a pile of molten gold. Will opened the biggest fridge Coco had ever seen and took out a beer for Xander and a jug of iced coffee for the two of them.

  ‘Decaff,’ he said, handing a glass of it to Coco with a smile. ‘Can’t be too wired up to work.’

  Then he led them out on to the terrace where there were sun loungers and chairs amid sculptural stonework and pots of topiaried lavender. It was a relief to be out of the glare of the kitchen. Coco sat down and sipped at her iced coffee, feeling a little more in control. But she only had to glance at Will to feel her insides tighten and then somersault, and that weird lightheadedness invade her skull again.