'But they appear to be very close friends, Vanessa. Closer than is normal I'd say. 'I leaned forward. 'The coincidence is that Lynda knows Mel from schooldays; they went to the same school in Berkshire but in different years.'
'Really? And what does Lynda say about her then?' Vanessa's eyes searched mine, full of intense curiosity now.
I wasn't sure at this point how much to divulge. Best to keep to the basic details, and see how she interpreted them. 'Well, it seems she was expelled for having a lesbian relationship with the games mistress.'
'Bloody hell!' Vanessa gawped at me, and then giggled. 'So now you're wondering if she and Susannah are having one too.'
'Exactly!'
'I say, darling, wouldn't that be a turn up for the books? Have you any hard facts, though?’ She obviously thought much the same way I did.
I pulled a face. 'No, I’m afraid not. Apart from what Lynda's told me, that is. Apparently it created a huge scandal in the school at the time. Well, you can imagine it would, can't you? Do you think Alex is aware of anything like that? I mean, do you think it could be the reason why they lead such separate lives?' Vanessa looked blankly into space. I continued. 'They barely saw each another when she was over here for your wedding you know? Yet she and Mel were hardly apart. By the way, why didn't Mel attend your wedding?'
'She was sent an invitation but declined because of some other family commitments here. I suppose it was rather strange really, when you think of it.' Vanessa frowned and seemed to be weighing things up.
'I haven't had the chance to approach Alex about it yet. Do you think I should?'
'Don't see why not. When does he get back?'
'Tomorrow. I'd also love to know whether Susannah knows about Alex and me. If she does, then the lesbian angle is the most plausible answer to why she doesn't mind or care.'
'Mmm,' Vanessa looked thoughtful.
'What about your parents? I often wonder if they know Alex has a lover here. Your father for instance when he comes over, must suspect Alex has someone, surely?'
'Oh, don't you worry about Papa, darling. He has a woman he sees regularly here himself,' countered Vanessa.
Oh my God! Like father, like son, I thought. I should have known.
*
The following morning I did some early shopping, and then I went to Vidal Sassoon’s to have my hair styled into a short sculpted bob and tinted copper. I'd decided it was high time I made more of a statement with my appearance. I'd always admired Mary Quant's chic cut, and variations of it had recently become the 'in' look. The shade I picked, a bit like a highly polished conker, suited my pale colouring well.
I'd given little thought to what Alex might think of it; I'd never felt obliged to dress or do my hair to please him anyway; a legacy I suppose from the early days in our relationship.
As I arrived home at around lunchtime the phone was ringing. Depositing my purchases, I answered it. It was Alex.
'At last! I've been trying to get you all morning!' God, he sounded tetchy.
'Sorry, but how was I to know? I've only been to the shops and the hairdressers. What's the urgency?' I replied, sharply.
'I’m afraid I shan't be back for a few more days yet, honey. I have to fly straight back to New York tonight. There’s a business crisis. Our company shares have plummeted on Wall Street and look like probably doing the same in London on Monday.'
'Oh,' I managed to say, before he cut back in.
'We're trying to salvage what we can, but we may have to wind things up over there; the cruise company anyway. There's a possibility of a take-over; but I can't say anything at this stage. In any event, things are not good. We may just be able to save the Karos-Intersea Ferry business. Look honey, I can't talk now ... it’s all a mess and it’ll take too long to explain things. Just take it from me, I have big problems.'
'Oh, Alex, I'm so sorry. I hope things don't get too bad.'
'So do I. Must go, honey. I'll be in touch from New York.'
Poor Alex, he sounded very distressed. I knew absolutely nothing about his family business affairs. I understood even less about finance and shares, therefore I couldn't begin to understand what had gone wrong. I tried to contact Vanessa, and then I remembered she and Rowley had gone away to the country somewhere for a few days.
Instead, I rang Philip, to enquire after Mum.
He sounded quite upbeat. 'She's doing fine, and in pretty good spirits. She hopes to be allowed home in about five days. I'm just off to visit now.'
This was wonderful news. 'Well I won't keep you. I'm so pleased everything's going well for her. Give her my love.'
After a late cheese and biscuit snack lunch, I took my mug of coffee through to the sitting room, turned on the television for company, and relaxed on the sofa to read a magazine. Cleo soon climbed onto my lap.
TV was boring; a football match on one programme, which I loathed; rugby on the other side, which I wasn't too keen on either. I knew it was going to be a hellishly tedious weekend and I regretted coming back to London when I had, especially now Alex wasn't coming home.
My thoughts turned to Christmas; now only weeks away. I had no idea how to plan for it and wondered if we would still be going skiing? If so I would need some ski and après ski clothes since I had none. On the other hand, if we weren't going I really felt I should join Mum and Philip in Wales for Christmas. What would Alex be expected to do I wondered? Would he be obliged to spend it in New York with his wife and son? Damn! It was all so complicated. My mind flashed from one problem to another as the TV pictures moved before my mesmerized eyes, nothing particularly registering. Soon I was dozing with Cleo draped across my stomach.
CHAPTER 10
Alex finally returned the following Wednesday, looking tired and depressed. He always hated discussing business with me, knowing that I didn't fully appreciate all the complex machinations that went on behind the scenes of the company. But he briefly explained the basics of how things had gone.
The American part of Karos Cruises had now been taken over by another vast company; making it the largest holiday cruise company in the western world. Karos shares however had not crashed quite so badly in London after all; the Karos-Intersea Ferry and Cruise set up here was somehow struggling on.
He was on edge, glum faced and distracted; not all that interested in anything I had to talk about. Not even my mother's progress. He approved of my new hairstyle with slight reservations about the colour.
I made him laugh briefly however, when I told him about Edward and Lynda, and he showed a glimmer of interest in Philip's decision to sell the restaurants. Altogether though, it was hardly the reunion I'd hoped for.
Next morning, I rose before Alex was awake. As I went through the hallway, I picked up his leather jacket, which had fallen from the coat stand. Before I hung it up I noticed a bulky folded piece of newspaper sticking out of the inside pocket. Assuming it must be something to do with the company crisis I was about to leave it. Then something made me take it out and look at it.
It was one single page… dated the previous Monday. I scanned the reports across the page. Nothing to do with his company there! Then I came to the bottom left quarter section of a sort a gossip column. Half way down, my heart almost stopped beating as I read...
Hot news! Susannah Karos, Texan wife of Alex Karos, son of wealthy Greek shipping tycoon Nikolas Karos, is suing her husband for divorce. A large rift has allegedly developed between Alex Karos and his wife's family, the De Mournays of Dallas.
A recently published story in the British press, in which doubts had been cast about Susannah's sexual orientation, has suggested the lady is having a lesbian relationship with her secretary. A claim she emphatically denies. The two women had been visiting London together.
Alex Karos and his wife are known to be living apart. Recently the Karos companies found themselves in deep financial trouble. Alex could therefore be in for a pretty tough time if Susannah sues for the multi-million dollar divorce settlement she is purporting to
. Remember folks; you read it here.
I couldn't believe my eyes. No mention of me, thank God. But my thoughts began to race, wondering how the hell the British press had got that information about Susannah?
Folding it quickly again I returned it to Alex's jacket pocket, my mind spinning.
I thought back to Susannah's stay in London. Surely Lynda wouldn't have divulged her knowledge to anyone else? But Lynda was playing a strange game lately. I wasn't too sure about her any more. But no, it was more likely that someone in the hotel had leaked it.
It was a shock to see it all in print though. I wondered which British paper had printed it. Certainly no one I knew or worked with had mentioned it. Vanessa and Rowlie couldn't have known either; or she'd have said.
Finally, I decided to act ignorant. Alex would tell me in his own good time. He would have to, if he was getting divorced and Susannah was suing him for millions. Oh my God, wouldn't she have to bring a co-respondent into it? Did she know about me after all?
But then all this was happening in America, and maybe they handle things differently over there? My head was bursting. I tried to consol myself with positive thoughts but it was hard. There would be a fight over the custody of Nikolas too. It wasn’t surprising Alex had been stressed out last night.
Hell, I was feeling pretty stressed myself now. It was awful knowing about it but not being able to discuss it. I felt hurt too that Alex had kept it all from me last night. Then another thought stabbed at me; supposing he suspects I had something to do with the leak about Susannah here? After all, I had met her at Vanessa's wedding and then visited her at her hotel.
We'll have to discuss things soon, I thought, before the whole thing gets completely out of hand. Later tonight perhaps, providing Alex has a less stressful day
When Alex surfaced I was dressed and ready for work. He looked slightly better for his night's sleep and I wished like hell I could take the day off to be with him. I kissed him as he sat down and poured him a mug of coffee.
'Sorry I have to get off soon, but I'll try not to be late tonight. What are your plans today?'
He ran a hand through his tousled hair. 'Not sure, honey. I'll have to go into the office sometime I guess, but not too early. They can always contact me here if they need to.'
He followed me to the door and saw me off with a warm loving kiss; making me feel a little easier.
There was time to walk if I stepped it out. It was a bright morning; but with an icy chill that made my nose run. I strode purposefully along Buckingham Gate, past the Palace, across Green Park and down into Berkley Square.
It was a fair stretch, taking longer than I expected. By the time I reached Mount Row I was exhausted but tingling all over from the fresh air and exertion. I wasn't normally an energetic person and rarely took much exercise. So this sudden onslaught had been something of a shock to my sluggish system. I resolved to walk more in future.
Mid morning I was upstairs in the workroom, sorting out a minor production problem for one of the Spring/Summer season designs when I spied a huge untidy pile of magazines and newspapers in a corner. I asked if one of the girls would throw them out. Then it dawned on me that only I ever ordered fashion magazines.
'Where on earth did all those newspapers come from?'
'Maude usually buys one each morning and leaves it for anyone else to read,' explained Betty, one of the machinists.
'I see.' I leaned over to thumb through a few of them. They were mostly a cheap rag, called ‘The Morning Sun’. Instantly my mind started to tick over. I wonder?
'How old are they?'
'D’know, a few weeks I suppose,' she replied. 'Haven't chucked any out for at least four or five weeks. But I'll do it today for you, Annabel.'
'On second thoughts you've enough to get on with, Betty. I'll get rid of them.' I heaved up the pile and trundled out with them.
Down in my office I began to scour them. It certainly was a rubbishy paper; full of scandalous reports about film stars, pop singers, sports celebrities and descriptions of sordid court cases. Even politicians hadn't escaped the poison pens of its reporters and journalists. If there had been any report about Susannah, this was a likely paper for it to appear in. But would I find it amongst these issues? I now had a chance to find out.
Of course the workroom girls would never have been aware of its significance. They'd be more into all the sordid gossip about pop and film stars.
I managed to wade through quite a few copies… but it was a time consuming job. In the process I became quite intrigued by some of the fabricated stories. Scandal written about The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and many others were quite toe curling; if any of it could be believed.
At lunchtime Kate Marshall was in town doing a couple of fashion shoots quite nearby and paid me a surprise visit in between them. Delighted, I abandoned my task immediately she walked in.
'Kate! How lovely to see you…' I said, chucking the papers I'd already read into the waste bin; the rest into a cupboard to look through later.
She had half an hour to while away and so we went round the corner for a bite to eat. Whilst I tucked into spaghetti bolognaise she had a bowl of minestrone soup, which seemed to last ages. I'd never seen her eat with much enthusiasm; ever conscious of her figure, I imagined. In contrast, my energetic start to the day had given me a huge appetite. I followed my pasta with a large hunk of cherry cheesecake, to hell with calorie counting.
Kate's relationship with Parker Brown still appeared to be an on-going thing, but I sensed she continued to resent his monopoly on her life. Her dull expression whenever he was mentioned was sufficient to tell me this; it was hardly the love affair of the century. He was much older than her for one thing and maybe she was beginning to realise the fact.
Other models like her seemed to be involved with virile young men with exciting lives in pop music or sport. I gathered motor-racing drivers were the current favourite with many of those I had dealings with. Weekends for these girls were often spent jetting off to international circuits and racetracks, supporting their latest beaus.
It seemed Parker Brown's hobby, when he wasn't involved with photography, was cooking.
'He considers himself quite a gourmet really; loves holding dinner parties for some of his old cronies, society friends mostly, with whom I've absolutely nothing in common. We've one on Saturday.' Kate pulled a peevish expression.
Knowing Kate's lack of enthusiasm for food, I could visualise how tedious it must be for her. But I supposed she would put on a happy face for this man who had plucked her from obscurity and brought her fame and fortune. He sounded a bit of a dinosaur to me, and I imagined a rather boring one at that.
Still, wasn't I also restricting my lifestyle rather in my relationship with Alex? I could see now several ways in which our lives ran parallel. OK, Alex was about five years older than me, but that wasn’t a problem. And we did at least have fun together; even if it was somewhat restricted to mainly sexual activity. The only people with whom we openly socialised were Vanessa and Rowley, which was always most enjoyable.
Kate knew a bit about Alex, and as she was about to leave, she suddenly said, 'I say, why don't you and your boyfriend join us for dinner on Saturday night? Two of Norm's guests, the Astors, cancelled this morning. You'd do me a huge personal favour by making up the numbers. So nice too for me to have some people there to whom I can relate for a change. I don't have many friends to ask anyway. Do say you'll come?'
I was unsure how Alex would feel about going. 'Er…don't you think you should check it out with Norm first?'
'No, it'll be OK; he'll like you... a successful fashion designer… and Alex being Greek and all that. You'll add a novel change to the usual crowd. It doesn't matter about your relationship being rather infra dig either; they're all a pretty rum lot themselves; mostly having extra marital affairs and so on. So do tell Alex he won't need to worry. I'd love to meet him anyway. Do come.’
‘Better check with Alex first; j
ust in case he's anything else planned. Can I ring you tonight to confirm it? '
'Fine.' She wrote her home number down in my notebook and then rushed off to her fashion shoot. I walked back to work, wondering how I could persuade Alex to go on Saturday night. I really wanted to attend. The whole idea tantalised me no end; recalling all the scandal of the Profumo affair a couple of years back. Since Kate had mentioned the Astors, I imagined that Parker Brown's friends would mostly be in that same league.
Anyway, my earlier intake of scurrilous gossip from the Morning Sun had given me quite a taste for meeting such infamous people. After all, it seemed I was almost on the verge of becoming one myself.
CHAPTER 11
Back at work, I got involved in a wrangle with Edward over my new designs for the next Autumn/Winter Collection. I wanted to include a few trouser suits, and he wouldn't agree.
'Far too masculine,' he said, tossing my sketches to one side. 'Even with your modifications, Courtney clients simply won't like it. It's not what they're used to.'
‘Exactly! That's why we should be catering for now and the future, not yesterday; we need to be diverse for once,' I asserted. 'Anyhow, Miss Courtney designs are mostly aimed at the younger clients. They'll love it. Elegant tailored trousers for smart women will soon be big news. You mark my words!'
'I don't doubt that, Annabel, but I still think we should avoid such gimmicky trends.'
Edward was digging his heels in again, as only he could.
I looked across at Lynda. Come on now; please back me up over this, my expression pleaded.
'Honestly, I can't believe how inflexible you can be at times, Edward!' I exploded, determined to make my point. 'Look... Ricci, Courreges, Quant, as well as loads of other houses, are all featuring trousers in one form or another this year. Why the hell shouldn't we?' I handed him a magazine open at a coloured picture of Jean Shrimpton modelling a Nina Ricci updated thirties style trouser suit in honey beige shantung. It demonstrated exactly what I was aiming at… chic, but also youthfully trendy. 'I wouldn't say that's gimmicky, would you? In fact it's one of the biggest statements to come out of the last collections. Don't you ever look through Vogue to see which designs from the shows they choose to feature? Trouser suits are here in a big way. We really must move with current trends, or we'll lose our clientele.'
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