Breaking the Rules (2009)

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  ‘Let’s give him a second or two, and then I must get a glass of water down him. That will be tougher, and I’ll start by using the syringe to squirt the water into his mouth,’ the doctor explained. Once again, James helped Matt, who managed to get the first glass of water down Larry’s throat using the syringe; in less than a minute Larry was vomiting into the bowl. When he finally stopped, the doctor gave him a few minutes to relax before getting the second glass of water down him. Almost immediately Larry vomited it back.

  Geo, who was somewhat squeamish, hurried out of the kitchen, but M was determined to stay, wanting to help Larry. She brought a bucket to the table, removed the bowl and emptied it, while James and the doctor attended to Larry.

  At one moment, as the process of emptying Larry’s stomach of its contents continued, Dr Branden gave James a knowing look. ‘The next stage is a bit difficult. We’ve got to keep him upright, active and moving, once he’s stopped vomiting and his stomach is totally empty.’

  James nodded. ‘I understand. We can walk him up and down one of the long corridors, or up and down the living room.’

  ‘Better make it a corridor,’ Matt said. ‘Just in case he starts to vomit again.’

  By five o’clock that afternoon Larry’s eyes were open, the wooziness had dissipated, and he knew what was going on around him. He was as white as bleached linen, weak and debilitated, but all of the Vicodin was out of him, and Dr Branden was satisfied he would now be all right.

  ‘But call me if you need me,’ the doctor told M. She promised she would.

  As she walked him to the front door, she asked, ‘What should I do about feeding him? He must be awfully hungry; there’s nothing left inside.’

  ‘Black tea, no milk, a slice or two of toast. Plain, dry, no butter or jelly. A little chicken broth later. Keep it light, no solid food until tomorrow. Okay?’

  ‘I’ll do exactly as you say. Dr Branden, I’m so grateful you were able to come. James and I would have been lost. Thank you very much.’

  ‘Call me tomorrow to let me know how he is, and if you need me I’ll be right over. I only live a few blocks away.’

  ‘Thanks again,’ M murmured, shutting the door behind him. She hurried back to Larry’s bedroom. His eyes were closed and he was fast asleep, breathing evenly. She crept out of the room, not wanting to disturb him, and went to the kitchen where she found Geo and James.

  ‘I don’t know what I would have done without you both,’ she said. ‘Thank you so much, James, Geo. I’m so sorry you had to go through this ordeal.’

  ‘I’m just glad I could do something,’ Geo murmured, and looked at the kettle as it began to whistle. ‘I don’t know about you, but I need a cup of tea.’ She went to turn the kettle off and make the tea.

  ‘I’d love a cup, please,’ M said, and stared at James, then reaching out she took hold of his arm. ‘Thank you…thank you for getting here so quickly, and for bringing Matt Branden. It was the right thing to do, getting a doctor.’

  ‘After I’d hung up on you, all I could think of was that he might die of an overdose, and then where would we be?’ James smiled faintly.

  ‘It’s just so lucky you managed to get hold of your own doctor,’ M answered, and sat down.

  Geo brought the mugs of tea over to them, returned with milk and sweetener and joined them at the table. ‘While you two were helping the doctor with Larry, I called the pharmacy in Toronto, and managed to establish that the doctor named on the label is in fact a dentist.’ She squeezed M’s hand. ‘So you were correct: Larry had said “tooth” to you earlier.’

  ‘I wonder why he took so many pills?’ M murmured, baffled, looking from Geo to James. ‘Maybe there were other things at work.’

  ‘Perhaps so,’ James agreed, and hesitated a moment before continuing. ‘He’ll explain everything I’m sure, as soon as he’s a bit better. He must be exhausted, poor sod, after all that vomiting. He’s fast asleep, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, and that’s the best thing for him right now. I’m not going to press him for an explanation until he’s more like himself,’ M remarked, and took a sip of tea.

  Geo said, ‘He should sleep as much as he can. Don’t wake him up, M, let him get as much rest as possible. Did Dr Branden say he could eat something? I bet it’s just toast and black tea.’

  ‘Nothing else, Geo; certainly no solid food today. Anyway, he won’t be able to keep much down, I’m sure of that.’

  ‘There’s nothing, no food in the refrigerator,’ Geo suddenly pointed out. ‘Do you want me to go and do some marketing for you?’

  ‘That would be a great help.’ M stood up, went to the library and returned with her handbag. ‘I’ll make a list, and here’s a hundred-dollar bill,’ she said, taking the money out of her wallet. ‘I think I’ll make chicken-in-the-pot. It’s soothing, healing. Perfect for tomorrow.’ She went over to the counter top, tore a page from the message pad and began to make a shopping list.

  ‘Do you want me to go with you?’ James asked, turning to Geo.

  ‘No, but thanks for offering. I’ll be quicker on my own,’ she replied, standing up and taking the list from M.

  Once they were alone, M said, ‘Let me know how much I owe you, James, and I’ll bring you the money on Monday.’

  ‘Oh, look, let’s not go through that again! I promise you I won’t breathe a word to anyone about this…incident. Believe me, you don’t have to pay me, and I wish you wouldn’t even try, actually.’

  ‘No, no. That was the deal we made, and a deal’s a deal as far as I’m concerned. I insist on paying you, and that’s that.’

  James sighed, shaking his head, and then he said quietly, his voice serious, ‘You must talk to Larry in a very straightforward way, M. Look, I’m sure you know that without me telling you, but he must confide in you, explain what he was going through when he started taking quantities of the Vicodin.’

  ‘I plan to do that, I promise you,’ she said in a low but firm voice. ‘Something like this can’t happen again.’

  ‘You’re damn right,’ he replied, giving her a cautionary look. For a split second he thought of telling her about Larry’s drug history—so called—and then changed his mind. He wanted to give Larry a chance to confide in M of his own volition, wanted to be fair to the man. He had never liked playing God, not even when he was with MI6.

  They met on Monday morning at his office on Park Avenue, at M’s request.

  ‘So he hasn’t really explained anything, has he?’ James Cardigan said, sitting back in his chair, regarding M intently.

  ‘Not really, no,’ she answered swiftly. ‘But he will.’

  ‘I hope so.’ James continued to stare at her, thinking that, despite her worries of the last couple of days, she looked absolutely bloody marvellous. She was wearing a white open-neck shirt, with a black sweater and trousers, appeared very young and schoolgirlish in the outfit, her hair in a ponytail, her makeup light and youthful.

  M was seated on the other side of his desk, and she had just handed him an envelope containing a thousand dollars in cash. He had protested that it was far too much, but she wouldn’t listen, and had adamantly refused to take any of it back. She had insisted it was a fair fee for his help on Saturday, his continuing attentiveness on Sunday and his evident concern for her and Larry.

  ‘You’re looking very thoughtful,’ M said, cutting into his thoughts. Her dark brows drew together in a deep frown. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I was thinking about Larry and you, your relationship. Listen, are you sure he’ll come clean?’ James still held her with his eyes.

  M was silent for a moment, and then she replied in an even, steady tone, ‘That’s a funny phrase to use, James…“come clean”. He’s not trying to hide anything; he’ll tell me everything this afternoon, he promised he would. He was still terribly exhausted on Sunday, as you know. All that vomiting did him in. But he did say this morning that he’d had a raging toothache the weekend Edward arrived in Toronto, and that he’d
had to deal with it immediately on that Monday morning, which is why we never connected. Then he apparently became embroiled with his father and Edward, over something. He didn’t say what, merely added that he’d been wedged between the devil and the deep blue sea. He must’ve been referring to his father and brother, don’t you think?’

  ‘You’re probably right. But he must confide in you, tell you the truth, M.’ James leaned over the desk, his expression sombre. ‘Matt thinks Larry might well have an addictive personality, which means that if he takes certain pills for pain, such as codeine, he will become addicted to them at once. Matt explained that Larry should check this out, and seek treatment if necessary.’

  M was startled. ‘Does Dr Branden think it’s that serious?’

  ‘He’s not positive, no, but he has thrown out a number of cautionary words to me, and I trust him. He’s a damned good doctor. I rely on him to give me the right advice, and I trust him implicitly.’

  ‘I understand.’ M sighed, still taken aback, and after a moment’s reflection, she said, ‘Once I know everything, I will suggest he gets help, if that’s actually necessary. And I’ll tell you what he tells me, so don’t worry, James.’

  ‘I think that would be wise. I’ll help in any way I can. Incidentally, is there someone with him right now?’

  ‘Oh, yes, Mary is there, the housekeeper. She comes in three times a week to look after the apartment; has done so for over twenty years, apparently. She worked for his parents, a lovely Irish woman. I told her he’d had a bit of a relapse, another bout of the flu, and she’s staying with him until I get back this afternoon. She’s going to give him some of my soup and toast for lunch. I told her to keep it light, no solid food yet.’

  ‘I’m relieved someone’s there, M. He needs a bit of cosseting…Changing the subject for a moment: Geo told me you’ll be moving to Paris in December, giving up your room.’

  ‘Yes, Jean-Louis Tremont has hired me to model his clothes for the spring/summer collection, which he’ll be showing in January. It’s a wonderful break for me.’

  ‘It certainly is, and congratulations, but Geo will miss you, and so will I.’

  She smiled at him, and asked in a slightly teasing tone, ‘Are you two serious about each other? I’d love to know.’

  He grinned, his mood growing lighter, his handsome narrow face suddenly becoming animated. ‘I believe we are. I want to marry her, M. Do you think she’ll take on an old reprobate like me?’

  ‘You’re not old, and you’re not a reprobate. You’re a very lovely man, and yes, of course she’ll have you. And if she won’t I’ll kill her. So there!’

  He laughed with her, then asked, ‘And what about you and Larry? How serious is it?’

  ‘Very.’

  ‘I see.’ He rubbed his chin with his hand, and said thoughtfully, his eyes riveted on hers, ‘You’ve got to make it right then—you do understand that, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I do, James! I wouldn’t want to have it any other way! But I do trust him, you know. There’s a lot of integrity in him and he’s the kind of man I’ve grown up with in a certain sense. He’s like the men in my family, that’s what I mean.’ She suddenly sounded indignant.

  ‘Don’t misunderstand, I like him too, he’s a lovely chap,’ James said reassuringly. ‘I just want you to be aware of the things Matt Branden mentioned…pointed out to me.’

  ‘I’m grateful.’ M stood up. ‘But now I’m afraid I’ve got to go, James. I’m taking Caresse to lunch. You know, the young woman who runs Frankie Farantino’s studio?’

  ‘Talk to me later,’ James said, walking with her to the door.

  Caresse sat listening patiently as the man outlined the deal to her, and after fifteen minutes she finally interrupted him. ‘Listen, Howard, I’m not interested in your offer, honestly I’m not. It’s—’

  ‘It’s not my offer, Caresse,’ Howard Dart cut in. ‘It’s my client’s offer, and I don’t think you should turn down two hundred and fifty thousand dollars quite so fast. That’s a quarter of a million dollars!’

  ‘I know it is, Howard. And it’s not enough. This place is worth a million or two, not thousands. Listen up, I know how much Frank Farantino spent on the renovations of this warehouse. A million dollars—much more, to be exact. You’re coming in too low, so the answer is thanks but no thanks. I pass. I double pass.’

  ‘Maybe my client will come up in price. He owns property all over the world, and he’s anxious to have something like this building here in Manhattan, especially since it’s income producing.’

  ‘You betcha it is!’ Caresse exclaimed, giving the young lawyer a very pointed look. ‘I’m no pushover, I got advisors,’ she improvised. ‘I know what this property’s really worth, just remember that. Nobody’s gonna steal it.’

  Caresse was growing increasingly annoyed with him, convinced he was trying to get the studios for nothing, since he had a funny reputation, was considered a bit of a hustler. ‘Anyway, who is this so-called client of yours?’ she now demanded, her voice cold.

  ‘What do you mean by so-called? He is my client, and his name’s S. Herbert Samson. As I said, he’s a very important businessman, and you shouldn’t be so hasty, Miss Caresse. You’ll regret it.’

  ‘I doubt that. And on behalf of my seventeen-year-old co-owner, Frankie’s son, and myself, I’m telling you that your deal is no deal. And you can tell your client that. As for you, Howard, go fly a kite: your offer is an insult.’

  He stood up, his face flushed, and answered in an angry tone, ‘You’re being a fool, Caresse. You’ll soon be back to me, and—’

  ‘Don’t bet on it,’ she interrupted in a sharp tone.

  ‘I repeat, you’ll be back. Nobody’s going to offer you more, the place is not worth it.’

  ‘Thanks for those nice words, Howard. Please leave the premises. And don’t come back.’

  She watched him as he crossed reception, opened the door and hurried out, in his haste almost knocking M down, who was about to enter the studios. ‘Excuse me,’ he snapped in a curt tone.

  Caresse noticed he didn’t even bother to pause. She stared at M and exclaimed, ‘Don’t pay attention to that guy. He’s a real jerk.’

  ‘Who is he?’ M asked, as she closed the door behind her and walked over to Caresse’s desk, a wide smile on her face.

  ‘Some two-bit lawyer the real-estate agent sent over, who thinks he can give me a snow job,’ Caresse told her, and grinned. ‘Imagine him trying to do that to me. I told him I’m no pushover, and I’m not. Offering me two hundred and fifty thousand for this place, when it’s worth at least a million and a half.’

  ‘Oh, much more than that, Caresse,’ M said, surprised by this low assessment. Shrugging out of her black wool coat, hanging it in the cupboard, she announced confidently, ‘I’d put the value at somewhere around four to five million.’

  ‘You gotta be kidding!’ Caresse squealed, gaping at M, obviously astonished and disbelieving, by the look on her face.

  ‘No, I’m not,’ M answered, sitting down opposite Caresse. ‘Property is at a record high in Manhattan these days, whether it’s commercial real estate like this or residential.’

  Caresse was still staring at her, total shock reflected in her eyes. She shook her head and said, ‘Maybe I should go to another, bigger real-estate company, put it on their books. What do you think?’

  ‘If I were you I would get the Farantino Studios evaluated immediately, and then I would go to a bank, take out a loan to pay operating costs, and run this place yourself.’

  ‘You’ve gotta be joking, M! What bank would give me a loan?’

  ‘A number of them, in my opinion,’ she answered in a businesslike voice. ‘You could put up the studios as collateral against the loan, and hey, listen! I’ve just had a brilliant idea, Caresse. Why not talk to Luke Hendricks? Maybe he would become a partner with young Alex, put up money himself. How about that?’

  Caresse nodded, looking at M with greater interest,
remembering how she had always told Frankie that M was smart, and she had been right. She said slowly, in a low, confiding voice, ‘I’ve never told you this, M, but Frankie left me thirty per cent interest in the studios. I also have guardianship of Alex until he’s twenty-one. And he’s cool, you know, he’ll do anything I say—well, within reason, you know what teenagers are.’ She grinned, ran a hand through her spiky red hair, jumped up, went around the desk and hugged M, exclaiming, ‘I haven’t yet told you congratulations! Or even said hello because of that awful jerk. So, how does it feel to be the New Face of Jean-Louis Tremont?’

  ‘It hasn’t really sunk in yet,’ M answered truthfully, and stood up. ‘I’d love a glass of water, and listen, just show me around the studios again before we go to lunch. I’d like to get a proper perspective on this place.’

  ‘Come on then, Miss Supermodel, let’s do it.’

  Taking hold of her arm, Caresse led her into the main studio. She was suddenly full of energy, filled with enthusiasm for M’s idea, and anxious to talk to Luke. She hoped he’d agree to this fabulous plan, which was what it had suddenly become in her mind.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  After lunch with Caresse in the MePa, M took a cab uptown. Her anxiety about Larry and her need to see him had grown more pressing towards the end of lunch, and she had instantly agreed when Caresse had suggested they skip dessert and coffee.

  ‘I’ve just got to get back to the studios,’ Caresse had explained. ‘There’s a big shoot this afternoon, and I’m needed.’ And so M had swiftly paid, and they had left, each taking cabs in different directions.

  Now, as the driver pushed his way through the heavy traffic, M sat back against the seat, her thoughts turning inward. She couldn’t help wondering what Larry would say when he heard her news. During his first week in Toronto she had spoken to him every day, confided how well the shoot was going; he had sounded genuinely pleased for her. But he knew nothing about the startling and unexpected events of last week, and Kate Morrell’s extensive plans for her, because he had not returned her calls.