by Susan Lewis
‘You’re asking me to follow that!’ Susannah protested.
‘This is all smoke and mirrors – or diamonds and dreamland. Give me the real stuff. Have you seen a script yet?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact, and I know I have to say this, but it’s really good. I’m still trying to get myself to accept that I’m playing Marianne, because her name’s all over every page. It’s such a trip. She’s really feisty and awful, and so mad about horses that I’m actually starting to get hooked myself. They’re arranging for me to have riding lessons, but I’m not sure where or when, someone’s getting back to me on Monday about that. The costume designer’s been in touch; she’s coming to take my measurements later today, and we’re going on a shopping trip next week. Marlene Wyndham sent flowers to congratulate me and to say how pleased she was to welcome me on board – very unexpected, so doubly appreciated.’
‘What about Michael Grafton? Have you heard from him yet?’
‘Actually, no. I thought I might have, seeing as he got my number from Dorothy, but I guess he’s busy and if Marlene’s going to be running the show I suppose there’s no real reason for him to be in touch.’
‘And how’s Alan dealing with it now? Still uptight and nervous, or is he starting to settle down a bit?’
‘Hard to tell really, but he’s doing his best to be supportive, and you have to love him for that when you can understand why he’s not thrilled. Who would be when their new live-in partner’s about to disappear for most of the week, every week? And the other thing he won’t have realised yet is how much I’m going to be in the public eye. Not just as Marianne, but as myself, because I received an email this morning … Pats, you should see it. What’s not on the list for interviews and photo shoots over the next few weeks isn’t worth doing anyway, though whether or not they’ll get that much interest remains to be seen. My head’s still spinning with it, and if I think about it too much I start feeling sick, because it’s terrifying. On the other hand, I can’t wait to get going.’
‘What about Neve?’
‘My darling daughter is so beside herself about it all you’d think it was happening to her, and more than half the time I wish it was.’
‘She’s going to absolutely love having a famous mum,’ Patsy smiled fondly. ‘What girl her age wouldn’t, but she’s so generous in her spirit and she loves you so much … It’s no wonder she’s over the moon. And I’m sure, once Alan’s had some time to get used to it, he’ll be equally happy to have a famous wife. Where is he now?’
‘Would you believe, playing golf with one of his colleagues – and, wait for this, madam has gone with him to caddy.’
Patsy gave an incredulous laugh. ‘Neve?’ she said.
‘I know, I still can’t quite get my head round it either, but off they went at eight o’clock this morning, all clubs and balls, as she so delicately put it. I’m not sure Alan’s partner was terribly thrilled when he realised she was tagging along, but he seemed to take it well enough when she jumped into the back seat of his car.’
Patsy was about to respond when she heard someone in the next room, and spun round to eye the connecting door. ‘Well, I guess the important thing is that she feels wanted, and accepted,’ she said, ‘especially now you’re going to be away a lot.’
‘Exactly what Alan thinks. It’ll probably make handling her crush a little more complicated, he reckons, because he doesn’t want to encourage it, but at the same time the last thing we need is her feeling rejected, or shut out in any way.’
‘I can’t imagine you’d …’ Patsy broke off as the handle of the connecting door started to move downwards. ‘Hang on,’ she said tartly, ‘I’ll be right back,’ and dropping the phone on the bed she stormed across the room and grabbed the wiggling lever. ‘What do you want?’ she shouted.
‘Ah, Patreesha, I was just making certain the lock is closed in case you tried to walk in on me.’
She gave a gasp of outrage that lost itself in a laugh. ‘In your dreams,’ she told him. ‘Now go away, allez-vous en,’ and marching back to the phone she said, ‘That man is utterly impossible. He actually seems to think I’m going to storm his bastille or something. What a fantasist!’
‘I really love the sound of him,’ Susannah told her. ‘I just want to know when we’ll get to meet him.’
‘You won’t! There is absolutely nothing going on between us and never will be, so you’re as delusional as he is if you think anything else.’
‘OK, I believe you, even if you do protest too much. Now, I’m going to love you and leave you, because I have to go and pick Lola up from the hairdressers. Call again as soon as you can. A vicarious trip to Monte Carlo is better than none at all, and so far, I have to say, I’m having a pretty marvellous time.’
Unable not to laugh, Patsy rang off, and after refreshing her make-up and changing into a pair of pale linen shorts and a T-shirt that turned out to be semi-transparent, she changed again, then went downstairs to meet Frank in the lobby, as arranged. Never mind that they were right next door to one another, the only room she was going to share with him this weekend was the lift – and if that too could be avoided, so much the better.
* * *
‘Mum, it’s me,’ Neve cried down the line. ‘Alan asked me to ring and let you know that we won’t be back for lunch, OK?’
‘I guess so,’ Susannah replied, engrossed in the contract that had been hand-delivered while she was talking to Pats.
‘We probably won’t be home till gone four,’ Neve continued. ‘He’s teaching me how to play and it’s really cool. He says I’m quite good already.’
‘Really,’ Susannah said. Her head was swimming with the figures in front of her. Was someone seriously going to pay her that much for doing something she’d willingly do for nothing if they asked?
‘I don’t think you’d enjoy it much though,’ Neve told her. ‘It’s not really your thing.’
‘No, I can’t imagine it would be,’ Susannah agreed, turning the page and wanting to whoop with joy simply to see her name at the top of that one too.
‘Oh well, I suppose I’d better ring off. Alan’s waiting for me in the car. We’re going to some pub he knows that’s not very far from here.’
‘OK, have a lovely time the two of you,’ Susannah said. ‘I’ll probably be out when you get back, but I’ll see you this evening. Maybe we can all do something together.’
‘Maybe. I’ll have to see what Alan says. He might be quite tired after we’ve been out all day.’
Finally tuning in to Neve, Susannah raised an amused eyebrow at the proprietorial tone, and said, ‘Did Sasha get hold of you? She rang about half an hour ago.’
‘Yeah, she did. She wants me to go round there tonight, but I’m not sure yet. I said I’d ring her later. Anyway, I’d better go. Love you.’
‘Love you too,’ Susannah said, and putting the phone down she concentrated again on her contract, wanting to absorb every last detail as though only by doing so could she make any of it start to feel real.
‘You know, Fronk, I’m really glad you’re here,’ Patsy murmured drowsily, ‘or I might be in danger of thinking I’d died and gone to heaven.’
On the lounger next to her Frank smiled and kept his eyes closed, mainly because they were weighted with sea-mineral-infused cucumber slices.
Whether he was wearing them for effect, or because he was undergoing some kind of beauty routine, Patsy had no idea. Nor would she ask. She was happy simply to lie out on this glorious sun terrace, listening to the gentle slap of the spa’s pool coming through the open doors, and inhaling the heady aroma of fresh sea air mixing with the fruity flavours of her cocktail.
She couldn’t remember when she’d last felt so relaxed, or so thoroughly and unspeakably pure. Colonic irrigation wasn’t a treatment she’d ever imagined herself going in for before today, and she wasn’t sure she would again, but feeling this squeaky clean, inside and out, couldn’t be a bad thing. Whether or not Fronk had taken the
plunge, so to speak, she hadn’t a clue, and would very much like to keep it that way.
Experiencing a moment’s irritation as someone on a nearby lounger broke the tranquillity with a cough, she raised her head for a pinch-herself moment. Yes, she really was on a sun-drenched terrace overlooking the world-famous port of Monaco, all wrapped up in a plush white terry robe, and with a matching velvety towel turbaned around her head. Fronk, with his cucumber accessories and complimentary spa slippers, was in similar garb, as were most of their compatriots, with the exception of the Cindy Crawford and Naomi Campbell look-alikes who kept parading up and down in nothing more than a thong.
‘These one-piece bikinis are for sale in the shop if you would like one too,’ Frank had offered when they’d first sauntered out on to the terrace.
Patsy had sliced him a look that might have thinned down his cucumbers, had he been wearing them then.
‘You would look very beautiful in one, I am sure,’ he told her earnestly.
She’d been about to say, ‘Why don’t you get one for yourself?’ when she’d wisely stopped herself, for knowing him he would. Even now the thought of him prancing around the terrace in little more than an eyepatch-sized groin coverage on the end of a gold chain was making her uneasy, so she dismissed the scary image and began to wonder instead about dinner. She’d already decided she was going to eat on the restaurant terrace, and maybe she’d have a drink at the bar first, or perhaps she’d wander down to the port for an aperitif. She still wasn’t sure about the Casino later. She’d never been a gambler, but to be right next to it and not go in …
‘Ah, is it that time already?’ Frank murmured sleepily.
Since he hadn’t moved a muscle, Patsy said, ‘No, much later.’
When he laughed his dazzling white teeth made his five o’clock shadow look even darker, or was it the other way round?
‘Maybe we should go to get dressed for the evening,’ he said, lifting a cucumber to have a peer out. ‘I have booked a taxi for seven to take us over to Monaco.’
Not sure which issue to address first, the dinner, the taxi or the destination, she heard herself say, ‘I thought we were in Monaco.’
‘Ah, maybe you do not realise that the Principality is in four quartiers,’ he said helpfully. ‘Monaco-Ville, the old town, where is the palace; Monte Carlo, where is the Casino; La Condamine which have its own harbour; and Fontvieille, which is the newest quartier and was built on land reclaimed from the sea.’
‘Really,’ she remarked, actually quite interested to know that.
‘So this evening we go to Monaco for to have dinner with some of my friends. They invite us to their home and they are very much looking forward to meeting you. I have not seen them for a long while, so it will be a happy reunion I am sure. Albert I was at school with, and Caroline I met later when we were all studying in the United States.’
Patsy became very still, not sure whether to go with this or not. In the end, she said, ‘Are you telling me that you are friends with the Monégasque royal family?’
He merely smiled.
Reaching over she plucked off his cucumbers and said, ‘You’re winding me up again.’
‘I guess, unless you come, you will never know,’ he responded.
Infuriated, she stuffed the cucumbers in his drink and rose to her feet.
‘I know it’s a wind-up,’ she said to Susannah on the phone when she got back to her room, ‘but what if it isn’t?’
‘Either way, I’m sure you’ll have a great time.’
Patsy drew breath to argue before realising she agreed.
‘You’re in Monte Carlo, for heaven’s sake. Lighten up and enjoy it.’
‘I am enjoying it, or I would be if that twit wasn’t with me.’
‘Rubbish, he’s making it for you, and if you weren’t so stubborn you’d not only realise it, you’d be able to admit it.’
‘OK, subject change coming up: what are you doing this evening?’
‘Well, Lola and I are going to hit the dizzy highs of Battersea bingo, but I don’t want you to start getting envious. I know it’s going to be hard having to stay there and go to dinner at the palace, but someone has to do it.’
With a chuckle, Patsy said, ‘Where are Neve and Alan?’
‘One’s at Sasha’s, the other’s gone into the office.’
‘On a Saturday night?’
‘Apparently. I spoke to him a few minutes ago. He’s sounding pretty fed up about it, but it’s a patient he inherited from the previous guy, he says, so he doesn’t want to let him down this early in their relationship.’
‘No, I can see that wouldn’t be a good idea. What time does he expect to be back?’
‘About nine, I think. He’ll collect Neve on the way.’
Patsy nodded and said nothing.
‘Hello? Are you still there?’ Susannah asked.
‘Still here. So, what am I going to wear?’
‘What did you take?’
‘Nothing suitable for a palace, that’s for sure.’ Then, ‘How can Fronk know the royal family? It has to be a wind-up.’
‘Well, like he said, you won’t know unless you go. So, mon amie, je vous souhais un très bon appétit, et une merveilleuse soirée.’
‘I’d forgotten you speak French.’
‘Nothing like as well as you do, but I comfort myself with the fact that you went to degree level while I dropped out at A. Anyway, Lola’s about to serve us up some tea before we go, and she’s asking if you’ll send her love to Albert and Caroline.’
‘I’m glad you’re all having so much fun at my expense.’
‘Which isn’t nearly as much as you’re having, you just haven’t realised it yet. But you will. Bonne chance.’
As the line went dead Patsy clicked off too, and though she remained convinced Frank was playing some kind of game, she began dressing for dinner anyway. Actually, she was starting to hope that it would turn out to be a hoax, because as gorgeous as her little black Gucci number was with its accompanying Manolos, she’d had both for over two years now, so they weren’t only out of date, they were also getting a tad low on lustre. Besides which, she’d never have chosen an outfit with such a daring neckline or so short a skirt for a royal rendezvous. This made her wonder what they were doing in her bag anyway, when there was only supposed to be Frank for company, but there was no time to go there.
With a final dab of Prestige Dix-Huit and a last critical glance in the mirror, she left her room and took the lift down to the lobby, determined to meet him there rather than let him anywhere near an open door to her room.
‘Ah, comme tu es belle, chérie,’ he gushed when he saw her coming towards him.
‘I am not your chérie,’ she muttered through the smile she kept up for the benefit of anyone watching, ‘nor have I given you permission to tutoyer me.’
‘I want only to admire you and make you feel like a princess,’ he responded smoothly.
She arched an eyebrow. ‘I think one per evening is enough, don’t you?’ she retorted chippily.
His eyes twinkled as he said, ‘In my heart, it will only be you.’
‘Oh, get me out of here before I throw up.’
‘You need the boo-kette?’ he asked solicitously.
Ignoring him, she turned towards the door and hoped no one was watching as she went into a little skid on the marble floor. Fortunately she righted herself before Frank could leap to her aid, but when she put out a hand to open the glass door as she marched towards it she found only air and sailed straight through with unnecessary speed.
‘If you’re laughing,’ she muttered threateningly as Frank came up beside her.
‘Would I?’ he responded, sounding as though he was about to burst with mirth.
The drive from Monte Carlo to Monaco-Ville took less than twenty minutes, most of which she spent enjoying the sights that ranged from wizened old ladies on spindly heels with big hennaed hair and cute little dogs, to a gold-encrusted Aston Martin,
to the inevitable girthy old git with a stick of eye candy on one arm and a Rolex Oyster on the other.
It was towards the end of the journey that she ventured to ask Frank, very casually, how he’d managed to interest the Comtesse du Petits-Louvens in their products.
‘But it was she who approach me,’ he told her, with one of his Gallic shrugs. ‘She call me on the telephone one day and say, Fronk, I want to freshen up my spas and you are the one to do it.’
Patsy threw him a dubious look. How had he managed to make that sound smutty, or was it her own dirty mind? Whatever, such a call out of the blue didn’t seem very likely to her, but since they were just pulling into a very glossy cobbled square right in front of the Grimaldi palace, now wasn’t the time to take it any further.
‘Oh no!’ Neve shrieked into her mobile. ‘That is too major. Are you serious?’
‘I swear,’ Susannah laughed from her end. ‘She just texted me to say they were right outside the palace, about to go in.’
‘Oh my God.’ Neve turned boggle-eyed to Sasha. ‘My godmother is only about to have dinner with Prince Albert of Monaco,’ she informed her.
‘Who?’ Sasha asked. She wasn’t in a good mood.
‘So where are you?’ Neve asked Susannah.
‘Outside the bingo,’ and registering the absurdity of the contrast they both burst out laughing. ‘I’d better go back in,’ Susannah said. ‘Lola’s taking care of my card. I just had to call and let you know. I can hardly wait to talk to Pats in the morning. Anyway, see you later.’
As the line went dead Neve rang off too, and turned her glittering eyes back to Sasha. ‘This is so amazing,’ she declared. ‘My mother’s about to become famous and my godmother’s in Monaco dining with royalty.’
‘Yeah, and my dad knows Robbie Williams,’ Sasha retorted, ‘it still doesn’t mean Ricky Shawton wants to go out with me, or that you’re ever going to get anywhere with you-know-who.’
Neve stiffened.
‘Are you seriously going to have golf lessons?’ Sasha sneered sulkily as she flopped back on the bed. ‘It sounds mega boring, if you ask me.’
‘It’s not when you’re there,’ Neve told her. ‘It was really cool, being out in all that fresh air and nature …’