Outrageous Fortune

by Lulu Taylor

  ‘It is a little colder than usual for this time of year,’ Sergei said, ‘and the wind chill takes it down another ten degrees or so. But it’s colder than this in the north, you know. Let’s have some tea.’

  While they warmed up and drank black tea from the samovar in the corner, served in glasses inside silver holders, he unfurled a map on the table and showed them that they were only a few kilometres from the mine. He explained why it was such a spectacular investment. Few people had been prospecting in this part of eastern Siberia lately, considering the thin, taiga-depleted soil to be low in mineral resources; the thinking was that the good stuff had already been taken, and what was left was not worth the cost and effort of getting it out and refining it to a high enough grade. Attention had turned to the area of the Kursk Magnetic Anomaly in the west, where sixty percent of Russia’s iron ore resources were to be found, or to the Urals, where fifteen percent lay under the ground. Then, recently, a little further south and close to the Chinese border, some wonderful discoveries had been made: mines that contained millions of tons of iron ore. It would take a hundred years or more to extract, but it guaranteed prosperity both for the area around the mine, and for the Chinese who had appeared quickly on site to do a deal for the resources there.

  ‘I tell you, my friends, they are going to pay us very good money, wonderful money!’ chortled Sergei. ‘Wonderful’ was obviously one of his favourite words. ‘This will make Korsilkoff very, very angry.’

  ‘Korsilkoff?’ asked Daisy, curious.

  Sergei’s eyes darkened. ‘The company who are trying to sabotage the mine and all our efforts. They’re spreading rumours that the iron ore is too low-grade to be of any use, and that the cost of extraction will be far too great. They’re determined to win all the Chinese business for themselves.’

  ‘But that’s not true, is it?’ Darley looked anxious. ‘I mean, you’ve got high-grade ore there! We’ve got to get the Chinese deal …’

  Sergei scoffed, ‘Of course it’s good stuff. And there should be enough business for all of us – but they fear that access to my supply is going to lower the price of their own. That’s why they want to buy in. My brother works for them. He’s furious that I bought him out before we discovered the iron ore, and wants me to sell a stake to his company, who will no doubt reward him handsomely for it. But I won’t sell, of course.’ He grinned broadly at Darley. ‘Why do I need to when I have you!’

  Darley looked a little uncomfortable.

  ‘Now, let’s go and visit the mine. I will drive you myself in the Land Rover.’ He pointed proudly out of the window at the big black-and-silver vehicle outside.

  ‘Not much else can get through round here,’ he added. ‘The ground is very uneven.’

  Daisy did not want to leave the warmth of the hut, but all too soon the tea was drunk and it was time to be on their way.

  ‘I’m seriously regretting this already,’ she muttered to Darley as they pulled their hats and gloves on again to make the short trip to the Land Rover.

  ‘You’ve got to respect these guys,’ he replied. ‘Makes London look pretty nice, doesn’t it?’

  Sergei held the door of the jeep open for them – Daisy got into the back while Darley sat up front – then climbed in to the driver’s seat. The heating came on full blast as the Land Rover pulled away from the landing site and out on to an unmetalled road that ran along the edge of the pine forest. The trees that had looked tiny from the air now towered over them with spindly bare trunks and straggly branches, crowding up to the road’s edge and stretching thickly away like a massive snow-capped army of birch and cedar. The Land Rover bumped and jolted along the track. Daisy, jerking about in the back, began to feel sick. Sergei was shouting information to Darley; she couldn’t make out much of what he was saying over the engine noise but it sounded as if he was talking about the workforce, an influx of Chinese labourers.

  It seemed like hours before they finally arrived at the site, an enormous stretch of ground where four or five bulldozers were hard at work removing the top soil. Around it builders were constructing fences and huts. Figures in thick outer garments and bright yellow hats swarmed everywhere, some on foot and some on huge wheeled buggies that negotiated the uneven territory with ease. At the edges of the site were trucks and yet more Land Rovers and four-wheel-drive jeeps.

  ‘Here we are,’ Sergei said with a smile as he pulled to a halt. ‘Here’s my baby. Come and meet her!’

  Daisy steeled herself for the frozen air outside, then jumped out, stuffing her hands into her pockets.

  ‘This way,’ Sergei said, obviously keen to show off. They stopped at the newly constructed fence and looked down over the rough, torn-up ground. ‘One and a half square miles,’ he said happily. ‘And full of treasure.’

  Darley stared out over it, smiling too.

  ‘And how do you reach it?’ Daisy asked. She’d read up a little on iron-ore mining before the trip, but she’d studied Swedish and Brazilian projects where the mines were underground.

  Sergei shrugged. ‘The simple way. Shovels and trucks. Bulldozers. Look, over there. Once the top soil is removed, we start excavating the rock beneath. We drill and blast to break up the ground, then we take the rocks to the primary crusher, which is being constructed over there – about half a kilometre away. That breaks them down to rocks about nine hundred millimetres big. After that they go to the gyratory crusher, which breaks them down further to around a hundred and fifty millimetres. Then we will stockpile the crushed ore, ready to transport it to another unit for processing.’

  ‘What happens in processing?’ Daisy asked.

  ‘More grinding,’ replied Sergei. ‘Until the product is between two and eight millimetres big. Then we can proceed to copper magnetic separation, where the iron is actually extracted from the rock. And we’ll be left with a final magnetite concentrate that will contain more than seventy percent iron.’ He smiled over at Darley. ‘Money, my friend! Money, money, money …’

  ‘When do you expect to start selling your first consignment?’ she asked. The bitter wind was stinging her skin as though it had invisible barbed wire laced through it.

  ‘Oh, not for months,’ Sergei said. ‘We need to finish the processing plants. That’s really what I have to talk to you about.’

  Daisy flashed a shocked glance at Darley. Months? Was that what he was expecting? But the thick fur-edged hood of his coat hid Darley’s face from her.

  ‘Let’s go inside,’ Sergei said, ‘and we can talk about it.’

  They stomped around the perimeter until they came to a large building with a corrugated roof, and Sergei led them inside where some builders were relaxing and drinking tea.

  It was blissfully warm. They took off their hats, coats and gloves while Sergei gave rapid orders in Russian to one of the men. ‘He’s getting us some lunch,’ he explained, leading them over to some chairs and a table arranged in front of a large wood-burning stove. ‘We need to eat often and heartily here. Next door is the dining room – it serves a constant flow of hot meals to the workers. Their quarters are a mile away in the nearest village. That’s where we’ll be staying too.’ He grinned at Daisy. ‘I would put you up in the hotel except … there isn’t one. I don’t expect many tourists here, so it’s not worth building one. You’ll be in my house – just a holiday dacha, nothing fancy. I hope that’s OK?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said. She could smell something delicious being prepared next door and could hardly think of anything else except how hungry she suddenly was.

  Darley looked serious and preoccupied but said nothing until platefuls of steaming food had been put in front of them.

  ‘It’s called pel’meni, a kind of pasta filled with minced lamb,’ Sergei explained. ‘A speciality around here.’

  It was delicious, Daisy thought, but perhaps that was something to do with how ravenous she was. She spooned down the warm, filling food, savouring every mouthful.

  ‘Sergei,’ began Darley in a c
areful tone, ‘you say it’s going to be months before you can start processing the ore?’

  He nodded, shovelling the pel’meni into his mouth, his spoon looking spindly and small in his great paw.

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘You see for yourself!’ he said, indicating the site outside the window. ‘The processing units aren’t finished. They’ll cost a lot of money to install, and they have to be of the highest specification to make sure we extract every milligram of iron we can. We need to be self-sufficient here, so that we can ship pellets to the Chinese that are ready for steel production. That’s how we’ll make the most money, I’m telling you.’

  ‘And … have you got the money to proceed?’ Darley asked in a reasonable tone.

  Sergei frowned and took another mouthful of his food. When he’d finished it, he said, ‘The money you used to buy into my mine has started this process. But we’ll need more to finish it.’

  ‘How much more?’

  Daisy leaned forward, eager to hear the answer.

  Sergei said blithely, ‘Millions, I guess.’

  ‘Millions?’ Darley looked shocked and appalled. ‘Where are you going to get millions from?’

  ‘From you, of course.’ Sergei’s expression indicated that he thought this was the most natural thing in the world.

  Daisy’s stomach plummeted. This was not what she had expected. Darley had led her to believe the mine was ready to begin producing iron ore, not that it was months off having the necessary processing equipment and in need of millions of pounds to get it finished.

  Darley was spluttering. ‘Where on earth do you think we’re going to get millions from?’

  ‘Come on,’ Sergei said in an ominously low voice. ‘I’m not a stupid man. You work for a powerful company. It has billions. Look at the assets. I studied Dangerfield very carefully before I decided to let you buy in.’

  ‘I bought in as a private individual!’ cried Darley, panic sparking in his eyes. Daisy watched him, the feeling of dread in her stomach intensifying.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Sergei said coolly. ‘You don’t have millions of pounds at your disposal. I’ve checked you as well, of course. It was obvious that you were buying in with your company money. And here –’ he looked over at Daisy ‘– is another executive from your company. I think the signals are quite plain. Your business wanted to make a quick buck from mine.

  Fine. But you won’t be able to do that unless you find me another tranche of money.’

  There was a long pause. Sergei took another slurp of his food. Daisy put her spoon down carefully by her plate, her appetite suddenly gone.

  ‘How much?’ she said quietly.

  Sergei glanced over at her, his blue eyes flinty, and shrugged. ‘Twenty-five or thirty.’

  ‘Million?’

  ‘Of course. You think twenty-five dollars?’ He shouted with laughter. ‘Listen, the Kimkan mine south of here? Four hundred million investment to get their iron ore out of the ground! This is a fucking bargain!’

  Daisy sensed danger in the way Sergei’s voice was rising. She saw the door to the room beyond open and a dark head look round briefly and withdraw.

  ‘OK, OK,’ she said, putting out her hand in a placatory manner. ‘Give us a chance to take this on board, Sergei, all right? We had no idea you still required that level of investment. But, as you say, we’re a big company. We’ve certainly got that level of investment if we choose. Why don’t you talk us through the project again? In detail this time.’

  60

  FOR THE FIRST time in her life, Coco was happy.

  She’d thought she’d been happy with Jamal but could see now that was a pale shadow of happiness compared to this. When she thought back to that girl, walking around the estate on the arm of her gang-leader, drug-dealer boyfriend, she didn’t feel the same yearning to be there again that she once had. Instead she felt pity for her old self. But then, that girl had no idea that a life like this could exist.

  ‘What the fuck have you done to Will?’ Xander asked her with amusement. ‘He’s a workaholic and I haven’t seen him go into his office for days.’

  Coco shrugged and smiled. What they were discovering about each other was all-engrossing. There wasn’t really time for work or anything but fulfilling the desire they both felt to be together.

  Coco had moved out of the cottage now. She was in the main house with Will and had been ever since the night after their first kiss. The following day had been strange: she’d woken wondering if she’d imagined what had happened the night before. She’d gone out to breakfast on the terrace, feeling awkward, but Will had come out, padded over to her, smiled a heartbreakingly beautiful smile, and kissed her on the lips. Then she’d known that it was going to be all right. Coco had stepped out of a dull grey world and into a new, vibrant one, full of sensuous pleasure. Her body buzzed with desire just from looking at his large, capable hands holding a coffee cup; she melted inside with hot longing at the sight of his long firm thigh inside his jeans, and the pressure of his calf against hers under the table. She was obsessed by staring at his mouth, wondering how long she would have to wait before she could take possession of it again.

  There was no question of holding back that second night. By the end of an outwardly quiet day, lazing by the pool, both of them were bubbling pools of pent-up desire, desperate to get their hands on each other.

  Xander had picked up the vibe during the day – it was impossible not to – his gaze sliding from one to the other, watching as they took any excuse to touch each other, brushing fingertips, rubbing arms, pressing legs together. After dinner, he’d given them a knowing smile and told them he’d leave them to it. He fancied an early night. Then, winking broadly at Coco, he’d headed back to his cottage. As soon as he was gone, they were in each other’s arms, hungry to slake the lust that had built up all day.

  He’d taken her upstairs to his massive bedroom suite. White blinds covered the wall of glass, hiding them from the garden below. His wide, low and extra-long Japanese-style bed waited for them, as inviting as a patch of virgin snow, and in a moment they were on it together, reluctant to separate long enough to take their clothes off. Will ripped his tee-shirt off over his head, revealing his tight, muscled abdomen, a trail of brown hair leading from his navel down beneath the waist of his jeans, while Coco fumbled with buttons, desperate to get her Balmain dress off. In moments they were in their underwear and the tempo changed: they began to luxuriate in the feeling of his hard flesh pressed against her softer, more yielding skin.

  ‘Oh, Coco,’ he whispered as he ran his hands over her soft breasts. ‘Oh my God … you’re so beautiful.’

  She felt beautiful too, not just an assembly of tits, arse and pussy, all the bits those men in the clubs had wanted to see, but fully and entirely beautiful. She had the feeling that Will would marvel over her toes and fingertips, or the tiny spot behind her earlobe which made her shiver to the touch, as much as at her hard, rosy nipples or the curve of her bottom.

  Eventually, when they could wait no longer, they removed, slowly and lingeringly, the last flimsy barriers between each other. Then he pushed inside her and Coco gasped: he was huge, his cock engorged to full thickness. He was deep inside, right in the heart of her, and at last they were joined together. The beauty of the sensation almost overcame her entirely, and tears leaked out of her eyes, even though she was ecstatic with the pleasure he was giving her.

  They couldn’t get enough of each other; it was as though she couldn’t take him far enough but had to keep pressing and pushing for more. She made him lie on his back and straddled him, straightening her spine so that she could feel him as far inside as possible. She leaned back as she rode him, dragging her fingertips lightly over his thighs and to the soft sac below his rearing penis.

  When he couldn’t take any more, he pushed her over on to her back and began to move with harder, stronger thrusts, his desire for her overtaking him. She bit into his shoulder and neck, and ran her
hands over his biceps, now bulging with the effort he was making. The pleasure was too much: the electricity radiating out from her groin was almost unbearable. She had to peak or go mad. Then, with glorious intensity, her climax took hold, scooping her up in its grip and whirling her round and round, into dark ecstasy.

  Opening her eyes was like regaining consciousness. Will was beside her, panting, his cock still inside her. They stared into each other’s sated eyes and laughed softly. They didn’t need to say anything at all.

  After that, they were together constantly, addicted to the sight, touch and smell of each other. Xander was clearly amused by their dazed, almost drunken state, like two bees intoxicated by a surfeit of nectar. Will was with them all the time now, and the hours drifted by pleasurably, the world kept out of sight and mind. In here, they had all they needed. Coco wanted to stay here forever and never, never come out.

  As they lay together in the long hours of the night, awake at odd hours, or lazed in the pools of golden sunshine that fell on the bed when Will lifted the blinds just so, they talked. Will told her about his childhood and the stormy relationship he’d had with his bullying, controlling, disdainful father. As she saw the whole story through the eyes of that gap-toothed boy from the film, she began to understand it differently. This was not the bolshie, selfish, ungrateful son that Margaret had portrayed, a young man who had treated his father with unforgivable cruelty. He was a boy who’d cried out for love and understanding; who’d been bitterly wounded when his father divorced his mother and married again, bringing another woman into the house without so much as discussing it with his children. They’d been expected to get on with it, accept it – to like it even. And then, when the new baby had been born …

  ‘It was so hard,’ Will said in a low voice, lacing his fingers through Coco’s as they lay together in his bed. ‘He adored her in a way he’d never adored us. As soon as she was born, it was as though we didn’t matter. I hated her for it … or, at least, I tried to. I treated Daisy badly, I can see that now, when it wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t help the way Daddy spoiled her, and she was a sweet little thing in her way. He had such high hopes for her. It must have destroyed him when she died. He would have given her the stars if he could. I feel terrible about the way I treated her now. But the truth is, I’d been looking for her just before she died. I’d hired some investigators to track her down. The word was she was travelling, but we couldn’t find a trace of her in Thailand, or anywhere else come to that.’ He shook his head. ‘It was as though she’d simply vanished. I’d even sent letters to my father, demanding to know where she was, but of course there was no reply. Then she was gone.’ Sadness crossed his face. ‘I feel so guilty. If only I’d found her earlier, perhaps I could have saved her. Prevented the accident somehow.’