We sit and sip the champagne and I get my breath back.
“This place is great, what is it?” I pant, still out of breath.
“Henry’s,” he says.
“Henry’s? Not Henry’s that Maggie invested in?”
“I don’t know, did she?” He looks genuinely surprised, and a bit miffed.
“Yes, the solicitors said that Maggie put cash into a club in London, called Henry’s. I spoke to the other partner on the phone a couple of days ago when I arranged for Anna to come here, a chap called Nial. I’ve never been here.” I’m slightly excited to be here, having heard so much about the place.
“So you own this place too?” He looks at me oddly.
“I suppose so. Well, some of it?” The moment I say it I see his face change, from the soft happy face, the sexy face, to the hard, not quite angry but upset look.
“Is there anything that Maggie – sorry, you – doesn’t own!” He sounds a little put out, miffed, angry. Memories of how Lewis and his moods could turn flood back. I’m uncomfortable. I don’t like the way James is now, not one bit, it’s almost as if… well, I don’t know, but he sounds nasty.
“You could have told me. I’ve made myself look really stupid, a fucking prat. I pulled strings to get a seat in the VIP area for the bloody owner of the damn club!”
“Well, I didn’t choose to come here, did I?” I raise my voice. “I didn’t even know we were at Henry’s until I asked you, I’ve never been here, it doesn’t say what it is outside and I didn’t even know where it was. All I’ve done is speak to Nial. I’m sorry you’re offended, if you want to leave just say so and we’ll go!” I try to defend myself and am probably a little sharp with him, although I don’t know why because I’ve done nothing wrong, nothing at all.
I’ve probably gone over the top but what I’ve said is totally honest. I didn’t know where Henry’s was, I have no interest in being involved in the running of a night club, high end or any other type for that matter. I’ve never met this Nial bloke, although I think that was probably a little remiss of me not to – in fact, I think I’ve probably managed the whole thing a little bit naïvely so far.
“No, we’ll stay, it just would have been nice to have known, that’s all. I just feel really stupid, totally fucking stupid. If I knew that you co-owned the place I could have just asked you to sort it!” He’s sulking now, yet I’ve done nothing wrong, absolutely nothing at all.
“James, I didn’t know where Henry’s was, and I certainly didn’t know where you were planning to bring me. You said yourself less than an hour ago, in fact on the way here, that it was a surprise. Had you have said that we were coming to Henry’s I would have told you – wouldn’t I?” Feeling a wave of confidence wash over me, I continue my mini-rant. “Anyway, I think we should go, I’m really not in the mood now. I won’t be good company. Can you call the driver and arrange for me to be picked up?” I stand and gather my clutch. He looks at me, a little shocked.
“Alex, I’m sorry!” He raises his voice. “I didn’t mean to sound arsey, but you could have said.”
“Said what, James?” I shout. “Said that I can read your mind and I knew you were bringing me to somewhere that I co-owned? What’s it going to be, James, eh? You know how much Maggie owned, every time we go out are you going to be pissed off because Maggie just happened to own this and that?” I glare at him, “It’s not my fault, I didn’t ask for all of this. All I wanted was a nice life with a non-abusive partner, and someone who let me make my choices; I’ve lived far too with someone who doesn’t let me have any choice in anything.” I’m fuming, absolutely furious. “Sorry James, I want to go home.” I’m firm and loud, although I’m sure others can’t hear me above the music. He’s ruined my evening totally and I want to go, and go now.
“Please stay,” he practically begs. He looks up at me, horrified, I think, that I’m ranting and that he has caused this.
I just glare at him. Does he not realise what he’s done? “No, I’m going home. Either call the guy who drove us here or I’ll get a cab, but I’m going. You’ve ruined my night, the first proper night out I’ve had for God knows how long. Well, I hope you enjoy your night out, because mine’s been trashed!”
I’m the one throwing a strop now but he’s really upset me. I wobble on my heels towards the exit of the VIP area leaving him there, looking back before I get to the roped-off area. He’s not moving, just turning his champagne glass around and around by the stem. Well, I’m not being held to ransom by this guy who is, let’s face it, nothing more than a fling. I make my way to the first doorman who moves the rope aside for me. “Everything okay?” he asks.
“Fine!” I take the poor guy’s head off. “Where can I get a cab, please?” I snap again at the big burly man, who fiddles with his earpiece and speaks into what appears to be his cuff. “Can you organise a cab, please?”
He looks at me. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Alex Drake.” I’m blunt, I don’t feel like being civil at this very moment in time.
He relays the information to whomever he’s talking to and then nods at me to go towards the main doors.
I half stomp and half wobble my way around the edge of the huge dance floor, which is now packed with the evening’s revellers. I note the bar, which runs the length of the club – it’s already several deep in places. It seems really popular. I know from what lands in my accounts on a monthly basis that it’s profitable and seeing it now, I’m not surprised. I recognise the sounds of Titanium, one of Anna’s favourites, as I negotiate my way to the main door.
I arrive at the entrance that we came in through and tell the doorman who I am and that I’m waiting for a cab. “A car’s been arranged for you, Ms. Drake, shouldn’t be too long.” He acknowledges me.
I look around the narrow entrance. “Thank you, is it okay if I hang around here? I don’t want to be in anyone’s way.”
“Not at all, ma’am, feel free to wait wherever you want. There’s a seat there if you want to sit down.” He points to a couple of square padded chairs tucked away.
This guy is also very smartly turned out, just like the others, in standard doorman attire: black suit, white shirt and black tie. He too has an earpiece and some contraption on his wrist that he appears to speak into. His buddy is equally as smart, these guys are big, well built, a bit like Action Men Roger and Thomas.
The guy I’ve been talking to turns to face me. “Ride’s here, Ms. Drake.” I stand and he guides me to the car, his arm hovering around my back, not touching. He opens the door to the Jaguar, watches me climb in and then shuts the door, tipping his imaginary cap as he does so and slapping the top of the car, presumably to tell the driver that I’m in.
“Where to, Mrs Drake?” the driver asks.
“Cheyne Row, please.”
“Not a problem.” We pull away from the kerb.
As we drive, I start to relax a little. I like James, I like him a lot, but I’m not jumping, as my mum would say, from the frying pan into the fire. I would like a man in my life, but whoever steps into the vacancy created by me divorcing Lewis will have to be special, very special, and certainly no-one remotely like my bastard of a soon-to-be ex-husband. I don’t know if James is that man. I certainly can’t do with the sulking and teenage-style tantrums that he’s just demonstrated. Yes, he’s excellent in the bedroom, there’s no denying that, although I’ve only Lewis to compare him to and I know Lewis was no Don Juan, I’m sure of it!
“So, was it your first time at Henry’s?” the driver asks.
“Yes.” I don’t elaborate as I’m really not in the mood for small talk.
“What did you think of it?” he asks, although I’m not sure why he’s so interested.
“I didn’t see a lot of it. I was only there for about an hour,” I say, keeping my answers short.
“Oh, that’s a shame. It would have been good for you to see it in full swing,” I hear him mutter.
“And why’s that?�
� I ask, intrigued at why this driver is asking so many questions. Why can’t he just bloody drive?
The driver laughs. “Because I’m sure you’d want to see your investment in action!”
Who the hell is this guy?
“And you are?” I ask him, not wanting to divulge any further information until I know who I’m talking to.
I look up and see him smiling in the rearview mirror. “Sorry, I should have introduced myself back there. I’m Nial, Nial Redmond – your business partner.”
Bloody hell, the first time I meet him and in these circumstances. Oh Lord. “Oh,” I gasp, “Nial, I’m pleased to meet you. When we spoke on the telephone I didn’t imagine you to be, so… so…”
“So young?” He finishes my sentence for me.
“Umm. Yes, I suppose so. I’d got the impression that you must have been at least the same sort of age as Maggie.”
“No, nowhere near,” he laughs. “Maggie just helped me out when I wanted to get this place started. I could only finance fifty per cent of what I needed and Maggie is— sorry, was… well known for helping young new businesses out, to get started. She was very helpful, she really was.”
“I didn’t know her that well,” I say, quietly feeling a little awkward now I know who he is. “Well, obviously I knew her, but not that well.”
I see him smiling again. “She was great, always willing to at least listen to a new business proposal and was a big advocate of new young business. She was one of very few people who would look at a proposal, you know, without tossing it into the bin before they’ve even opened the first page. When I approached her with my idea for Henry’s… Well, I don’t know, I think she just liked the idea of a very upmarket club that wasn’t so exclusive that only the stars could use it.” He fills in a few more gaps about Maggie, his focus remaining on the road.
“I’m learning more and more about her as time goes by,” I say. “I suppose we should arrange to meet at some point. Drop me an email and let me know when you’re free.”
“Did your daughter have a good night?” I can see his smile broaden in the rearview mirror.
“Umm, you do know they both got paralytic, don’t you?” I’m very matter of fact.
“I had heard they were drinking Zombies like they were going out of fashion. Still, Clive sorted them out.” He laughs.
“He did, but I don’t know if I approve of the drink? They spent most of the following morning throwing up!” I sort of half laugh. I know I shouldn’t but, well, I suppose we must have all been there at some point, most of us.
He laughs as we pull into Cheyne Row. “Just down here.” I waft my hand stupidly as I know he can’t look back. “Here’ll do, thank you.”
Nial gets out of the car and opens my door, offering a hand as I exit the back of the Jaguar.
“It was lovely to meet you, Mrs Drake. I will drop you an email as we really should get together soon,” he says as he lifts my hand, placing a light kiss on the back.
I smile at him, feeling a little uncomfortable, just a little. “Please do and please, Nial – call me Alex, not Mrs Drake, okay?”
“Sure, Alex, not a problem. Do you want me to see you to your door?” He smiles again, a broad grin, another gentleman.
“No, I’m fine. But thank you.” I head off towards my home with him watching me. Once I’m in I turn around and wave him off as he pulls away.
Kicking the killer heels off, I go through to the kitchen and make myself a cup of tea. I’m not tired, far from it, and having met Nial tonight I really feel as though I should review the business portfolio. I think I’ve had my head in the sand with most of the businesses that I’ve inherited, I’ve no desire to be active in any of them particularly, although I do enjoy my time at the hotel. I suppose I should at least show my face to the other partners in each of the investments.
I drag out the file of paperwork given to me by the solicitors when everything was completed and put into my name. I flick through the brief notes regarding each one, forcing myself to concentrate on the papers that I have, if only to get over James and his tantrum – he’s hurt me, he really has.
He knew that Maggie had investments all over the place, surely, and if he had said where we were going I would have told him. He treated me like I’d deliberately hidden things from him.
I sit with my tea and my reading. The hotel is first on the stack, probably because that’s the one that Maggie owned outright and the papers I’ve looked at the most. Next are documents relating to several office blocks and apartment complexes and finally the nightclub. It looks like the nightclub was a one-off investment; it doesn’t fit with the rest of the portfolio, which is all property apart from the hotel, and it seems strange that she chose to put money into this one. Yes, I think I really should meet with Nial, if only to try and find out why she went this route. Maggie must have been approached by other business wannabes, so why Henry’s and no other clubs in the area?
I curl up on the sofa with my tea and the documents on my lap, reading each one carefully. There’s some serious money here. I do wonder if I’m stupid keeping all of these, would I not be best to sell some of them? Will they always bring in a good income? I think I really need to take some advice and I make a mental note to speak to the Wealth Manager at Coutts next time I go in.
Another cup of tea and my thoughts drift to James. No matter how I dress it up and whatever I think I have done, I come to the same conclusion over and over again: he was wrong. I would have told him about Henry’s if I had known, but unless he’d told me where we were going how the hell could I have known? I’m sad and angry at the same time. Sad that the evening ended abruptly like it did when I was so looking forward to it, that was my fault because I needn’t have walked out like I did, but I felt I needed to make a stand on this. There is no way I am going to be treated like that again, I’ve learnt a long and hard lesson being with Lewis and I’m never, ever going back there. I’m angry with James for assuming the worst of me. I had nothing to gain, nothing at all, by keeping the information from him.
I must fall asleep on the sofa as I’m woken in the early hours by the front door opening and James clattering down the hallway. I stand as he tumbles into the living room, obviously very well oiled.
“You’re he-here,” he slurs.
“Where else would I be?” I snap at him.
“You left me!” He turns out his bottom lip. “You left me on my own, baby!” He’s absolutely pissed.
From the sofa I can smell the alcohol on him, lots of it. His shirt is undone down to his stomach and his beautiful hair is an absolute mess. He stumbles further into the living room and eventually crashes onto the sofa, legs outstretched and arms flung out to either side of him.
I stand and march towards the kitchen. “I’ll get you some water.”
“Don’t want water, Alex, I want you, blossom,” he says, barely coherently.
“Well, you can’t, not when you’re like that anyway.” I fill a large glass full of water and take it back to the living room. When I get there he’s fast asleep, breathing heavily with this head lolled on one side. I lean forward to cover him with one of the throws and see that he has what looks like a hickey on his neck. The bloody bastard! I fume. It’s pointless shouting at him, he’s out cold. Well, he can go, the moment he’s awake tomorrow he’s gone. I don’t bother to cover him, he can freeze!
I storm upstairs, tears burning my eyes, but I’m going to be strong on this one. He won’t get the chance to use me. I undress and climb into my bed, taking off the pendant as I do. It’s such a pretty piece of silver and I’ll treasure it forever, just because James gave it to me, but he’s also hurt me tonight. It’s the first time I’ve had my bed to myself for a while and it feels good to have all this space to myself, but cold and lonely at the same time. I spread myself out before curling up under my duvet.
Chapter 17
I wake at eight, later than normal for me. I’m excited as today is the day that Anna gets he
r results, but first I have to deal with the drunken two-timer downstairs.
Pulling my robe on, I make my way to the living room. He’s still there, still fast asleep. I shake his shoulder. “James, wake up, you need to leave! James, wake up!” I shout.
He stirs and looks up at me, shocked. His eyes are bloodshot, he smells horrendous and looks even worse. “Please…” His voice is hoarse.
“You need to leave. I don’t want you here any more. I want you gone, gone now. Get your drunken arse out of my house now.” I kick him in the shins and waltz through to my kitchen to make tea. He winces at the kick and moves to rub his shin, I hope it bloody hurt!
Looking at the clock in the kitchen I see that it’s just past eight. Anna can go into school at 8.30, I think she said.
As the kettle boils I hear James trudge through to the kitchen. Even though he’s the worse for wear he still looks stunning, his curls tumbling around his face and the faintest shadow of his beard just showing through on his olive skin, all blighted by that bloody mark.
“I’m sorry,” he offers, “I’m really, really sorry. I was wrong for treating you like that, I should never have acted that way.”
“No, damn right you shouldn’t. But it doesn’t matter now because you’re going. You’re not welcome here any longer!” I hiss at him. “Get yourself back to the little whore who marked you last night. I’ve been a mug for the last twenty-two years and I don’t intend to be one any more.” I start to rant as I make my tea, shouting. He’s clearly in pain, good.
I yell again. “Do you think I’m totally stupid? And more to the point, did you really think I’d have kept it from you had I have known you were going to take me there?” I continue my relentless rant. “Not that it matters any more because you’ve shown your true colours, you’re just a two-timing bastard, just like Lewis. I don’t want you here any more, and as for your job, we’ll have to discuss that when you’re sober and when I’ve calmed down!”
Freeing Alex (The Alexandra Drake Series) Page 25