“Me too,” she whispered.
24
Taylor laughed out loud when she saw Marilyn come through the doors of the arrivals hall of the airport. A porter was pushing her luggage which consisted of five Louis Vuitton cases. It looked like she was here to stay for quite some time. She was wearing a Burberry trench coat, Brian Atwood killer heels and over her arm a large Hermes bag. Her face was almost obscured by a massive pair of Gucci sunglasses. The paparazzi waiting outside had no idea who she was but were busy snapping away, sure that she must be a celebrity of some kind. She was waving her hand at them crying, “No comment, no comment!” although nobody had asked her anything. She squealed with joy when she caught sight of Taylor and they fell into each other’s arms, laughing hysterically.
“You’re such a howl,” Taylor cried. “I am so glad to see you.”
“Oh, Pareee, City of Lovvve, I am so happy to be here.”
Marilyn threw her arms in the air, then turned and posed for the cameras once more.
“A limo!” she cried when she saw the car Taylor had waiting for her. “You always had such class, honey.”
It’s just as well I did order a limo, Taylor thought. All that luggage!
They chatted nineteen to the dozen all the way home and Taylor was gratified to see how impressed Marilyn was with the beautiful apartment.
“Oh hon, I’m sure gonna love it here!” She pirouetted daintily. “How about a little bubbly to celebrate?”
“Sweeetie, it’s only 10 a.m.!” Taylor exclaimed in surprise. “Do you not want to go for a sleep?”
“Heck, no! I have to celebrate my first day in the beautiful Pareee and what better way than with a bottle of French champagne!” She pealed with laughter.
Her joie-de-vivre was contagious and Taylor found herself laughing too as she opened a bottle of champagne before sitting down to catch up on all the gossip. Two bottles later, they both decided that a nap might be a good idea.
How fantastic to have Marilyn here, Taylor thought, as she drifted off to sleep. Paris will certainly be more fun now.
Wow! How great it is to be in Pareee, Marilyn thought, as she wrapped the luxurious duvet around her. I just know this trip is gonna change my life forever. I’m sooo excited!
Mimi, the cook, a scowl on her face, cleaned away the debris they’d left behind. The housekeeper, Cecile, had left after less than two weeks of suffering Taylor’s abuse. Mimi was left doing it all, cooking and cleaning, not that her mistress ate very much. Still, she felt sorry for the master, married to such a horrible woman. She hated Taylor but needed the job badly so she put up with her insults and demands, biding her time till she found something better.
Brandon arrived home from work to find both Taylor and Marilyn sipping wine and the unmistakeable smell of cigarette smoke in the living room.
“Brandon, dahhhling, how lovely to see you again!” Marilyn cried, throwing her arms around him.
“Marilyn, how are you?” he replied tautly, extricating himself from her embrace and going to open the windows to get rid of the stench.
He disliked Taylor’s friend, with very good reason. He had always felt that her wild living and casual morals were a bad influence on his wife. She flirted with him constantly and she’d often let him know, in no uncertain terms, that she was available to him, despite him being married to her best friend. Needless to say he didn’t take her up on the offer. He wasn’t that stupid!
Taylor, however, admired Marilyn enormously. Being very low in the sexuality department herself, he guessed she envied her friend’s lustfulness and sexual appetite.
And Brandon had to admit that Marilyn was certainly very sexually attractive. She always had that ‘just got out of bed’ look and her china-blue eyes and blonde hair made her seem almost childlike. Her small figure added to this, except for the large silicone breasts that were forever on show. They were completely out of proportion to her waif-like figure.
“I paid enough for these boobs,” she was fond of saying, “so why not show them off? I must get value for my money.” Then she would laugh riotously.
Taylor had toyed with the idea of having her breasts done too but luckily he had talked her out of it. Now here was Marilyn, larger than life, back in their lives and set to stay, if the amount of her luggage was anything to go by. She was still flirting outrageously with him and he was still ignoring her.
He’d been shocked to see the number of empty bottles and numerous cigarette butts in the bin when he’d gone into the kitchen for a beer. He hoped to God Taylor had not started smoking again. He’d had a hell of a job getting her off them years ago.
Ashling was delighted with the way her novel was going. She’d been to the English bookshop, Shakespeare & Co, and bought a copy of The Sun King by Nancy Mitford. This was a marvellous book about Louis XIV and his court which she’d read and loved years before and she knew it would be a great help with her research. She also spent hours Googling all the information that she needed and checking up on her facts. She had settled into a routine. Girls to school in the morning; Monday, Wednesday and Friday, gym for an hour; then to Les Deux Magots for coffee and two solid hours of writing before lunch, which she usually had with Corey, then a lovely walk by the Seine, revelling in this beautiful city and on to collect the girls from school.
On Tuesday mornings she visited a museum or art gallery with Felicity and from next week on she’d have her wine course on Thursday mornings. Life was pretty full and she loved it.
It was amazing how quickly Orna and Ciara had settled in. They were always full of news and excitement and she was delighted to hear how much their French was improving. It never ceased to amaze her how easily children could pick up a language.
Most afternoons she took the girls to the playground in the Luxembourg Gardens where they’d already made friends. Ashling would sit with the other mothers chatting as they watched their offspring enjoy themselves. Then home to cook dinner and, when the girls were tucked up in bed, she would write for another two hours. She had come to accept that Kieran would rarely be home before nine o’clock. Thank God she had her writing. It had come as a big surprise to find that she loved it so much and ideas were tumbling around in her head all the time. She could barely wait to get to the computer to get it all down. It was much easier than she’d imagined. Corey had insisted on reading the first few chapters and she’d been overjoyed when he’d commented that they were very good. He suggested that she perhaps give more detailed descriptions of the characters’ appearance from the word go and she realised that he was of course right. She was grateful for his advice and did as he suggested. He was very encouraging.
Taylor, meanwhile, hadn’t had so much fun in years. Marilyn was a tonic – absolutely outrageous! She had such zest for life that she left Taylor exhausted. They’d gone shopping and Taylor had enjoyed taking her to the gorgeous designer boutiques where all the assistants knew her by name.
“Gee, you have been busy, honey,” Marilyn drawled.
For someone who had said she was skint, Marilyn managed to buy an awful lot, flashing a myriad of credit cards everywhere they shopped. In Prada, she fell in love with a jacket that was truly adorable.
“I absolutely must have this,” she cried, turning this way and that before the mirror.
“It’s beautiful,” Taylor agreed, fingering the butter-soft suede. It fitted Marilyn’s body like a glove.
“But I just can’t afford it,” her friend added, her china-blue eyes clouding over. “I’m up to my max on all my credit cards. Damn that Frank and his alimony!” She was like a little girl being denied a beautiful doll.
Taylor checked out the price tag. She blanched. Oh my God! Then she thought – Marilyn has come all this way to visit me, it’s the least I can do for her. Taylor knew that Brandon would be furious if he knew. Well, he’d never know. She could always say it was something she’d bought for herself.
“We’ll take it,” she said to the salesgirl. “It’s my pre
sent to you,” she beamed at Marilyn. “I’m so grateful you came over to visit me.”
“Oh, honey, I love you so much!” Marilyn hugged her and twirled her round. “Thank you so much. It’s beautiful.” She smiled at her reflection in the mirror.
“I haven’t had such a good time since . . . I don’t know when,” Taylor told Marilyn over a bottle of champagne in the bar of the George V. “I guess I’ve become so tied up in the social charity scene in New York that I’ve forgotten how to really enjoy myself.”
“Oh, don’t depress me, honey. Them old fuddy-duddies are so up their own butts that the only time they enjoy themselves is when they’re in the restroom.
She pealed with laughter and Taylor joined in. God, it felt so good to be able to let her hair down like this. Marilyn’s sense of humour was infectious.
“I’m so sick of all them stuck-up cows back home,” said Marilyn. “I’ve given up on all that social crap in New York. Who needs it? I’m aimin’ to have a good time from now on.” To prove her point she raised her glass to a good-looking guy at the next table, giving him a sultry look. “European men! Give them to me every time!”
Taylor laughed at her, watching as she flirted outrageously with the man. He obviously enjoyed it because ten minutes later he sent another bottle of champagne to their table.
“Cheers!” Marilyn smiled sexily as she raised her glass to him.
“Gosh, I don’t know how you do it,” Taylor said, admiringly.
Marilyn pealed with laughter. “Men are pussy-cats,” she purred, knocking back the champagne.
As Ashling sat waiting for Felicity, she thought about Corey and wondered why she still hadn’t told Kieran about him. What’s there to tell, she reasoned, as she sipped her coffee. She hadn’t told him that she’d started on her novel either. He was so tired every evening that he barely said more than a few words to her before going to bed. In the morning, he was up and gone as she was getting the girls ready for school. He never asked her what she got up to all day, so why should she volunteer the information?
She’d lost more weight and was feeling a lot fitter than she had in years. Not that Kieran noticed! Huh, some marriage, she thought, but that’s not my fault. If he wants to put his career first, well, that’s his decision and there’s no point in my causing rows about it. It won’t change anything. And to think I thought things might be different here! Thank God I’ve got a life of my own now – and my writing – it’s turning out to be a lifesaver.
Felicity’s arrival broke into her thoughts.
“I’m so nervous about going to this beauty salon,” Felicity cried, sitting down and ordering two espressos.
“There’s no need to be. I felt like that too but Odette is so sweet – all the girls are,” Ashling reassured her.
And so it turned out to be. Odette took Felicity in hand and assured her that she would not do anything too drastic.
“No purple highlights or dreadlocks then,” Felicity laughed, winking at Ashling.
A sleek smart bob and blonde and honey highlights later, Felicity beamed as she turned her head this way and that, admiring her new hairstyle in the mirror.
“This is fantastic!” she cried to Ashling, who had been busy writing away on her laptop while all this was going on.
“Now, you have to have a facial, and manicure and pedicure to go with the new hairstyle,” Ashling ordered. If she’d asked her to walk on water, at this stage, Felicity would have happily done so. Ashling sensing this, decided to go for broke. “You’ll need new clothes to go with this new you. What do you say we go shopping this afternoon and smarten you up?”
“Oh, Ashling, what can I say?” Felicity had tears in her eyes. “Can you spare the time?”
“No problem. The girls are going to a birthday party from school, so I’m free till six.”
“I’m so grateful,” Felicity said as the beautician came for her.
Ashling grinned with satisfaction.
On the off-chance, she rang Jazz and asked if there was any chance she could take a half-day to come shopping with them. She had a great eye and would know what to choose for Felicity.
“I’d love to,” Jazz replied. “I need to get out of the office big-time. I’ll explain later.”
They agreed to meet for lunch before the shopping expedition.
The request couldn’t have come at a better time for Jazz. In the cold light of day, she was ashamed at how stupidly she’d behaved. She should have left Yves straight away once she’d realised that he didn’t remember her. She considered calling in ill to work on Thursday, not wanting to face him. He kept coming into the office hoping to find her alone, she suspected, and she knew Brandon was wondering what the hell was going on. Now Ashling had given her an escape route.
She had taken the next day off anyway as she was travelling back to Frankfurt to finish with Hans and collect her things. Then she planned on driving to Munich to visit her mother and leave her car and her stuff there. She hoped the break would give her a better perspective on things.
Now, as Jazz saw the two women arriving at the bistro, she let out a long whistle.
“My God, Felicity, I hardly recognise you. You look fabulous.”
And it was true. Felicity looked beautiful. Her skin was glowing and the hairstyle was very becoming. It made her look ten years younger.
“I know,” Felicity replied, unabashed. “I love it, I really do.” She tossed her head, flicking her short, shiny hair from side to side. Her plummy upper-class accent always took Jazz by surprise each time they met. Ashling was used to it now and barely noticed it.
“God, Ash, this is some makeover!” Jazz grinned at Ashling, who gave a little bow.
After lunch they hit Galeries Lafayette and it was like a re-run of Ashling’s search for a dress there. Jazz whizzed around, pulling garments off rails as Felicity tried on one garment after another. If Jazz and Ashling liked it on her, she bought it. €3000 the poorer, a happy Felicity insisted on treating them to champagne in the restaurant on the top floor. The two girls laughed at her enthusiasm.
“Maxwell will probably have a fit when he sees how much I’ve spent but really it’s been years since I bought anything new for myself,” she remarked, as the waiter popped the cork.
“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled when he sees how great you look,” Jazz told her.
“Exactly, you’ve got a whole new wardrobe there,” Ashling assured her.
“True. If I tell him that Taylor spent more than that on one dress, he’s sure to be happy,” Felicity said mischievously.
They all roared laughing as they clinked their glasses together.
“To the new Felicity!” Jazz and Ashling chorused, delighted to see the change in her.
Felicity left after one glass as she wanted to be home before Maxwell, leaving the other two to finish off the champagne. Jazz went to pour some more for Ashling who put her hand over the top of her glass.
“Not for me thanks. That’s my limit for today. I’ve lost twelve pounds already and I want to make it a stone by next weekend,” Ashling said proudly.
“Well done, you look great.”
Jazz gazed at her, seeming to hesitate, and Ashling waited to see what it was she wanted to add.
“I was out with Yves last night,” Jazz went on quietly, refilling her own glass.
“I was wondering what you’d done about him. Did he remember you?”
“No, not at all. But I still love him, Ash – I can’t explain it – I feel so alive when I’m with him,” she whispered.
“Oh, Jazz!” Ashling groaned. “I just hope you don’t get hurt. I wish I could do something to help,” she offered, gently taking Jazz’s hand.
“Thanks, but no one can. I know it’s not right but I can’t give him up.”
Ashling saw the anguish in her friend’s eyes. She didn’t think this was the time to mention Sophie. God, what a mess!
“What about Hans?”
“I’m going to Frankfurt t
omorrow and I’m going to tell him it’s over between us. I’m dreading it.”
“Well, I suppose it’s only fair to him.”
“Yes. I can’t bear it when he calls me. I hate having to pretend.”
Later, Ashling hugged a very disconsolate Jazz goodbye, wondering where it would all end. She was glad that her own life was simple and uncomplicated.
Felicity was sizzling with excitement as she waited for Maxwell to come home. She kept looking in the mirror, not believing that it was her own reflection she was seeing. She looked so totally different and she hoped that Maxwell would like her new look as much as she did. She was wearing a new Donna Karan soft jersey royal-blue dress and matching heels and she felt elegant and smart, and even a little sexy. Jazz had insisted that she buy an uplifting Wonderbra and it had done wonders for her shape. She quivered with apprehension as she heard Maxwell’s key in the door.
“Hello, love,” he called out, coming into the living room.
She was standing by the window and Maxwell stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. He stared at her, saying nothing, and with a sinking heart she thought that he didn’t like her makeover.
“Felicity?” he said, as if he didn’t really believe it was her.
“Yes,” she croaked.
“What has happened to you?” He didn’t move.
She started to cry. “You don’t like it,” she said, disappointment in her voice.
“Don’t like it?” he repeated as he moved towards her. “I love it. You look fantastic.” He took her in his arms as she smiled through her tears.
“I’m so glad,” she mumbled, “because I love my new look too.”
“You ninny,” he laughed, drying her eyes. “How could I not love it? You look wonderful. This calls for a celebration!”
He gave her a long kiss, then went and took a bottle of champagne from the fridge. Pouring two glasses, he handed her one and raised his glass to hers. “To my beautiful wife,” he smiled, and they clinked glasses.
A Year Like No Other Page 14