by L M Bee
“Impressive how swiftly it’s all been pulled together.”
“Ooh, that reminds me,” exclaimed Sophia, “Bernard said we need to be at the pool house by 11.00 for Bruno de Berger’s team briefing. Do your children know about it?”
“No idea, I’ll give them a call.” Mary pulled the rose gold phone out of her bag with sudden pangs of missing Robbie.
“Darling, it’s Mummy. How’s things? Good. Is Arthur up yet? Good. And Titty? Okay. Listen, Sophia and I are just finishing breakfast, then we’re coming over to see you. Bernard wants us all to attend Bruno de Berger’s team talk at 11.00 in your pool house. Is it looking respectable? If not, could you quickly whizz round and give it a little tidy please? Thanks darling, we’ll be over in about ten minutes.”
As Mary put her phone down on the table, Sophia asked, “Have you heard back from that scumbag yet?”
“No, that’s a point, I’ll try him again right now.” She reached for her phone again and called Oliver’s number. As usual, he sounded delighted to hear from her.
“Hello, my darling, how are you? I’ve been so worried about you, laid up in bed with food poisoning. I miss you every moment we’re apart.”
“I miss you too, darling,” she said, raising an eyebrow at Sophia and pretending to gag. “As I said in my message, we’ve been invited to a party on Saturday night. Anna Lovushka, wife of oil tycoon and Russian oligarch Vladimir, is hosting a fashion gala fundraiser for her charity. Black tie. We’re extremely honoured to be included on the guest list.”
Mary winked at Sophia and pressed the speaker button, so they could listen to him together.
“Sounds very exclusive,” he enthused, “any idea who else is on the guest list?”
“Apparently Anna Lovushka’s fifty best friends.”
There was a stunned silence from the other end. Sophia was quietly amused. Bernard had mentioned that Harrison’s self-entitlement meant he’d always considered something like this to be his destiny, and he would be in his element at an elite gathering like this – Bernard was spot on.
“Sounds impressive,” replied Oliver, sounding very cool, “but I’m sure I’ll barely notice the other guests, my eyes will be on you all night, beautiful!”
Sophia stuck her fingers down her throat and silently pretended to vomit on the floor. Mary had to clamp her lips tight shut to keep a straight face, desperately trying not to giggle.
“The invitation says seven o’clock for a champagne reception, followed by the fashion show and then a silent auction. I still feel a bit weak, darling, that bout of food poisoning’s really knocked the stuffing out of me. I’m going to stay in bed today. Do you mind?”
“Not at all, best you make a full recovery,” he soothed.
“Hoping to build my strength up for the party, can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Come up to my room when you arrive, just before seven. I’ll be ready and waiting, then we can go down to the party together. Is that all right with you, sweetheart?”
“Yes, of course. Get well soon, my darling. Black tie you said, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll be with you at seven prompt. Love you to the moon and back.”
“You too,” cooed Mary, blowing kisses down the phone. Sophia theatrically raised her eyes to heaven and face-planted on the tablecloth.
“Bye darling, love you too.”
Precisely tapping the red dot to end the call, Mary was struggling to keep a straight face, and turned to Sophia with her sternest expression full of indignation.
“You utter meanie! That was so cruel, I nearly died trying to keep a straight face!”
Both were laughing hysterically now. Sophia repeated the fingers down the throat gesture again, making Mary snort with laughter, which made them both laugh even harder. The two friends clutched their aching sides; they had both been under tremendous pressure lately and relished a brief moment of tension relief. Eventually Sophia wiped tears of laughter from her eyes and stood up.
“Come on devil-woman, pull yourself together, they’re expecting us at the pool house.”
“You’re right. Lead the way, you devious con artist!”
“Very plush!” cooed Mary, snooping round the pool house with admiration.
“Mum, do you want a coffee? Sophia?” called Arthur from the kitchenette.
“No thanks, sweetheart. Had so much at breakfast I’ve got the jitters!” replied his mother.
Sophia quietly shook her head, and smiled at Arthur.
Titty burst through the open door. “One hundred and eighty!” she declared.
“One hundred and eighty what?” asked her mother, looking baffled.
“Cherry blossom trees, we’ve just counted them.” Mr Bojangles was sitting upright on her shoulder holding a pale pink flower. “One of the workers said they’re being arranged round the garden, and every tree’s fitted with tiny white fairy lights that’ll light up after dark – it’s going to look magical!”
“Wow!” approved Kitty. “One hundred and eighty pale pink trees lit with fairy lights, like a real live fairytale! Hey, have you guys seen what they’re doing to the pool yet?”
“No, not yet,” replied Sophia knowingly.
“They’ve built a catwalk over the surface of the water, the full length of the pool with an arched bridge bang in the middle – and they’re busy putting something in the water too.”
“Let’s go and have a quick look before Bruno’s briefing. Arthur, you coming?” called Sophia, eager to see her idea translated into reality.
The five of them wandered off together to look at the pool, chatting animatedly on the way. At the first glimpse of it, they all stopped and stared in admiration.
“Oh my goodness, wow!” declared Kitty.
“After Monet’s 'Water Lilies',” explained Sophia proudly.
The focal point was an arched blue-green bridge, in the centre of a catwalk that stretched from the shallow end to the deep end. Men in wetsuits were busy unloading the last troughs of water lilies, gently transferring them into the water, covering the surface with their flat waxy pads and delicate white-pink flowers.
“Even Monet would be impressed!” declared Titty in awe.
Fifty white linen chairs had been placed in regimental rows around the pool, all facing the catwalk. Beyond the shallow end was a small podium with a clear perspex lectern and microphone, under a massive overhead flatscreen. At the deep end seven full-sized weeping willows had been manoeuvred into precise position, elegant tendrils gently trailing in the water creating a dramatic stage curtain, concealing the models backstage and framing their entrance onto the catwalk.
The atmosphere was buzzing, people working everywhere. Everyone was focused on their particular task, no chatting, just hard work and absolute efficiency. You could tell already that the end result was going to be absolutely stunning.
“What a picture!” gasped Mary.
“It’s going to be spectacular,” declared Sophia proudly.
Bruno de Berger was standing in front of a large white board, covered with photos taken in the Airstream. Beside it was an enlarged floor plan of the hotel, which he kept pointing to as he rattled off instructions to his staff. Sophia, Mary and the children were sitting solemnly in a row on the sofa, with Bernard standing behind them. The rest of the audience was a mixture of detectives, uniformed police officers, undercover officers in hotel uniforms and key management personnel from Hôtel d’Eau Bleue. All contributed to the distinct air of seriousness.
“This will be the control room, the central hub of the operation. Hidden cameras trained on Oliver Harrison and Anna Lovushka throughout the entire evening will stream live footage back here to these six monitors.” He tapped his stick overhead at the bank of screens.
“A team of surveillance officers will monitor the screens, forbidden to leave their stations during the operation, with sight and sound live from the event. Sound will also include the four of us discreetly wired up – Bernard, Anna Lovushk
a’s two security guards and myself. Everyone in this control room will be able to hear every word you say into your mics, so please remember that folks, before saying anything you shouldn’t. Every word will be audible to the surveillance team and anyone else in this room, including the young Pembrokes. In case of an emergency, please contact me or Bernard immediately, or any member of the team here in the control room – we’ll all be in constant communication with one another.
“Mary, when the money’s successfully transferred into your bank account, we’ll give you the nod. After that your duty is done, so to speak, and you’re free to leave the party and come back here to join your children. The female officer tasked with covertly shadowing you throughout the evening will immediately make herself known to you, and chaperone you straight back here to safety. May I respectfully request that your children never step out of this building during the operation. Whilst they're here, my staff can guarantee their safety.” Looking sternly at the children, he said, “None of you are to leave this pool house whilst the sting is in progress, understood?”
All three nodded obediently.
“Mrs Pembroke, when you join your children, the four of you must remain here until the operation’s complete.”
“How will we know when it’s over?” asked Mary.
“If all goes to plan and we’re successful, you’ll know!” beamed Bruno. “Where’s the audio-visual team? Ah, over there. Guys, all happy with everything?” A cry of 'Yes, Sir' went up. “Good. Have you received the film from Jake Mann’s office about the charity? And it’ll play on every flatscreen around the hotel, pool and gardens, yes? Excellent. Right, think that’s about everything. Any questions anyone? No? Okay, well that just leaves me to wish you all the best of luck and to hand over to Bernard.”
“Thank you,” replied Bernard, moving swiftly to the front, notecards in hand. After running through the team briefing for his own staff, and checking his managers were confident about their added responsibilities, he briefed everyone on a few other points before bringing things neatly to a close.
“Well, nothing else to add but good luck everyone. Bonne chance! And last but not least, a word of encouragement to our courageous leading lady. Sophia, we’re all right behind you, my dear.”
Sophia forced a nervous smile, privately suffering a horrendous attack of nerves and an upset stomach. Bernard smiled back, adding some final words of encouragement.
“Nothing to worry about, Sophia. Trust me, it’ll all go like clockwork. Very best of luck to you. Remember what I said, imagine you’re a Hollywood movie star, performing an Oscar-winning role.”
Chapter 32
“Lights, camera, action!” cheered the glam squad. “Anna Lovushka’s ready to make her debut!”
Anna Lovushka looked sensational in a long black couture dress and blonde bob. Dramatic and super glamorous, she turned to admire her reflection in the mirror. The squad had achieved a definite ten out of ten; the oligarch’s wife looked perfect.
Framed photographs onboard had been photoshopped to replace the face of the owner’s wife with Sophia’s using images from her phone. The level of excitement was rising as the glam squad tidied away all evidence that they’d ever been there. It was almost time to go to the party.
“We’ll take the clothes you arrived in, and leave them at reception,” suggested one of the squad.
“Thanks,” replied Anna. “I’m just going to walk round the deck on my own for a bit, get into character.” She made her way through the main saloon onto the aft deck, breathing in deep lungfuls of warm night air and muttering positive mantras to herself.
“You can do this,” she said under her breath, recalling Bernard’s words of wisdom. “Imagine you’re a Hollywood movie star …”
Fizzy blood rushing through her veins, gaining confidence fast, she felt excited by the challenge now and positive about achieving a successful result.
“Ma’am, your speedboat’s waiting,” called a uniformed crew member.
“Thank you.”
Not just looking the part, feeling it too, Anna Lovushka stepped onboard the tender for the short trip ashore, personal security guards either side and Fifi tucked securely under one arm.
On the jetty, one of the burly seven-footers helped her to balance whilst putting on her shoes, instantly adding another another six inches in height. The tall platinum blonde looked fierce, powerful and determined to succeed.
Bernard’s voice was being transmitted on well-placed speakers around the garden. “…And it is my very great pleasure to welcome our hostess, businesswoman and philanthropist, Anna Lovushka.” The audience applauded as Anna swept through the dramatic stage curtain of weeping willows, carrying Fifi under one arm like a clutch bag, and walked serenely along the catwalk, pausing on the bridge to smile warmly at friends in the audience and the bank of professional press photographers.
At the far end, Bernard offered his hand as she stepped elegantly down from the catwalk and took her place beside him on the podium, both magnified overhead on a large flatscreen.
Confidently scanning the audience Anna radiated appreciation, smiling at everyone before starting to speak slowly and clearly into the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Firstly I would like to thank each and every one of you for joining me here tonight to raise money for LoveHeart, enabling us to continue helping children with cancer. I would also like to thank our host, without whom none of this would be possible, owner of Hôtel d’Eau Bleue, Mr Bernard Maskell.” The guests clapped enthusiastically as Bernard nodded, smiled, and humbly bowed his head.
“After the fashion show there’ll be more champagne, and my favourite brand of Russian caviar flown in specially from Moscow, with a short film about my charity. As many of you know, LoveHeart provides treatment centres for children with cancer. Our latest project is providing mini pop-up hospitals around the world, and every penny you generously donate tonight will go towards creating more centres to help sick children. Each couture creation modelled tonight will be available to bid on in the silent auction. The highest bidder will receive private fittings to tailor-make the outfit to fit them perfectly. So ladies, this is a rare opportunity to own your favourite couture design, unique to you and perfect for your next special occasion. Gentlemen, please give generously, your donations will fund specialist equipment and professional medical teams around the world – whilst making your ladies very pleased with you indeed.” The audience tittered and fidgeted with anticipation.
Anna scanned their faces appreciatively. “Without further ado, let’s get on with the show!” Smiling and mouthing her thanks to everyone, she stepped down from the podium to take her place in the front row, Bernard by her side.
The pool area was suddenly plunged into complete darkness, before dramatically bursting back into life with bright lights, loud music, and a succession of glamorous models sashaying down the catwalk. Sound systems pumped out rhythms that synced flawlessly with the lasers blazing into the night sky. A continuous stream of supermodels, pausing on the bridge to turn and drop one hip, made eye contact with the fashion photographers’ lenses.
Front row, Bernard and Anna put on a very credible performance of making polite small talk and appreciating the couture designs. When Bernard felt it was safe, he muttered discreetly under his breath, “Harrison’s on your right, two rows back, see?”
Turning to smile at her guests, Anna clocked Harrison out of the corner of her eye. “Yup got him, thanks.”
Sitting elegantly beside Harrison, in her new red evening dress, Mary was looking tense. The glam squad had done an incredible job on her too, hair piled up elegantly on top of her head with excellent professional makeup accentuating her best features. Harrison looked very dapper, in seventh heaven surrounded by such wealth and power, looking round like a child in a sweetshop.
Within twenty minutes the show climaxed to its finale, with the entire cast posing as the designer walked the length of the catwalk to tumultuous applause.
After a standing ovation, the show closed, and the audience mingled round the pool for champagne and caviar. Bernard had been keeping a constant eye on everyone, impressed by Sophia’s confidence in tackling her role, and decided to check Mary was all right.
He was battling his way through the throng when Harrison shot past on the phone, saying, “Stay where you are, I’ll come and find you, got Mary’s ticket to get you in.”
Putting the sleeve with the microphone up to his mouth, Bernard whispered covertly, “Bruno, sounds like Mo’s gatecrashing.”
“Affirmative,” replied Bruno, “subject already under surveillance.”
Standing alone beside the pool, glass of champagne in hand, Mary was quietly admiring the water lilies whilst Oliver had apparently nipped off to the bathroom.
“May I say, you look absolutely smashing tonight.”
“Thank you, Bernard, very kind. Only wish that lying cheating scumbag wasn’t my date, his kisses make me want to chunder. Any news on the children, are they all right?”
“Yes, they’re fine. In fact they can hear you, every word you say is being picked up by hidden cameras. I can hear them on my little earpiece, they’re shouting 'Hi Mum!'” smirked Bernard.
“Ooh, hello darlings!” flapped Mary, waving her hands around, unsure where to look.
“Look up at the camera hidden in that cherry blossom,” suggested Bernard, nodding discreetly towards it, “and give them a little wave.”
Despite feeling utterly ridiculous waving at a tree, Mary couldn’t help grinning from ear to ear, delighted her children were all right.
Bernard chuckled, “They’re shouting 'Hi Mum' again, and Kitty says ‘eat garlic to keep that evil scumbag away from you’.”
Mary snorted with laughter, facing the tree again to covertly reply, “If only I could, sweetheart, there’s nothing here but champagne and caviar!” Turning back to Bernard, she asked, “Any sign of Anna setting the wheels in motion yet?”
“No. Must admit I’m getting a bit fidgety, wish she’d get on with it.”