‘Teach me to be silly, Tara. I love you. I love everything about you. I love your mind, I love your body, I love your heart and your soul. I love you.’
They kissed again, and this time she didn’t pull away.
When she finally tore herself from his arms, Tara glanced up at the enormous house and revelled in the romance of the setting. Then she caught sight of her mother peering out from the library window, sobbing into a handkerchief. Realizing she’d been spotted, Tina lifted the hanky from her face and waved it high above her head, so Tara could see that she was smiling broadly though her tears.
Then she nearly jumped out of her skin with shock as an ear-splitting sound rang through the air.
****
‘Please go faster!’ Natalya urged the harassed taxi driver. She squeezed her mother’s hand tighter and tried to fight back the terrified tears threatening to reappear.
‘I’m so sorry.’ Daina’s whisper was almost inaudible. This was not the kind of excitement she’d been expecting of her trip to London.
Finally the taxi careered up the winding drive, past some outhouses, and screamed to a halt outside Willowborough Hall. Flinging £300 towards the driver, Natalya jumped out of the back seat followed closely by her mother, breathing hard as she struggled to keep up. Natalya rang the doorbell countless times but nobody emerged to answer it, so she grabbed her mother’s arm and ran around the side of the house, where the doors to Hugo’s studio were flung open. Both mother and daughter screamed.
Slumped on the floor was Hugo Wittstanley. A small black handgun lay two metres away from him on the ground. An old lady was kneeling beside him, frantically pumping his chest. In the background Tara held her mother tight, the two silent, stricken, as they watched the pale unmoving figure on the ground. The only noise came from a young man standing with his back to the room, one hand clutching his long and dishevelled dark hair in anguish as he spoke into his telephone:
‘Ambulance, please. You must come at once!’
‘It’s too late!’ Natalya wailed.
But no sooner had the words left her mouth than Hugo started to murmur incoherently.
‘He’s not dead!’ Natalya exclaimed, mouth open in disbelief.
‘Wh-wh-what are you doing here?’ Tara was shocked and confused. ‘My … my father was just about to shoot himself when he passed out cold from drinking a whole bottle of vodka.’ Tara held up the empty bottle for Natalya and Daina to see. ‘He pulled the trigger just as he collapsed and shot a hole right through the wall.’
‘Oh my God!’ Natalya cried. She turned to her mother and a long look passed between them.
‘We need to talk,’ she announced to Tara. But this was no time for talking. The ambulance was screeching up the driveway, blue lights flashing, and all hands were needed to tend to Hugo.
It wasn’t until that evening that the incongruous gathering was able to reconvene in the library in a calmer state of mind. Hugo was also present, having been considered fit enough to return home from the hospital within the same day.
‘OK now, Natalya darling, will you please explain why you and your mother are at Willowborough and why Papa looks like he’s seen a ghost?’ demanded Tara.
‘It’s my duty to explain,’ Hugo said, to Natalya more than anybody else in the room. ‘What I’m about to tell you will probably result in your despising me for the rest of your life, and it is the reason I chose to try to end mine. Tara, Tina, I should have told you years ago. Natalya Ozolin is my daughter.’
Tara gasped and made to speak. Tina seemed stunned into silence.
‘Please let me finish.’ Hugo held up one hand. ‘I never thought for a minute, all those years ago, that the woman I spent three blissful days with on an art research trip in the former Soviet Union would end up giving birth to my child. And when Daina wrote to me – her ‘darling Stan’ – all those years ago, to inform me that I had a daughter, a beautiful baby called Natalya, I hated her for threatening what I had gone on to build at home. By then I had a young wife with whom I was infatuated and a baby girl of our own: Tara. I didn’t ever imagine, Natalya, that circumstances would one day cause your path to cross with Tara’s. I thought I could deny you. Forget about you. Exorcize you from my life. And so it was that I, in my selfishness and inexcusable deceitfulness, decided to disown my own child.’
Natalya was openly sobbing now, while Tara, seemingly in a daze, patted her shoulder ineffectually. Hugo drew in a deep breath.
‘I wrote back to your mother, Natalya, and denied knowing her. I wrote that the child was not mine and would never receive love, money or fathering from me. I told Daina, in no uncertain terms, that neither she nor her baby were ever to contact me again, and that if she did there would be dreadful consequences.’
Hugo met Daina’s eyes, ashamed. He expected to see hatred etched on her face, but her expression was one of understanding. She nodded, gently, and Hugo went on, turning to Natalya and opening his hands in a gesture of surrender.
‘That was the last I heard from Daina. And then you arrived. You arrived in London and your presence threatened to expose the coward that I am. What could I do? I panicked, and I bombarded you with hateful and frightening letters. I wanted you gone – I hoped to frighten you away. But you were so good, and so b-b-brave, that you stood your ground.’ Hugo began to weep. ‘Not only that, you were also drawn to your half-sister, and through sheer kindness, and with no other agenda, you saved her from herself.’
Hugo took another deep breath and composed his face.
‘Natalya, I am so desperately sorry. All I can do is offer my heartfelt apology, but to think that that is enough would be an insult to you, a failure to acknowledge the gravity of what I did.’
‘I also must some blame take,’ Daina said in her faltering English.
‘What!’ Natalya cried. ‘He tricked you! Bullied you into sleeping with him.’
‘He tell me it is love, yes, and that he would make wife from me, to live together here. I was frighten, yes, but also happy, and because I did not know what love, I give him my body.’
‘I was out of line,’ Hugo shouted. ‘A monster. I led you astray, lied to you, pressured you. And then all these years I gave you nothing. Nothing, Daina! Absolutely nothing!’
Daina smiled. ‘You give me greatest gift of all. You give me Natalya.’
Natalya wrapped her arms around her mother, crying into her neck. She looked up at Hugo, her father. She remembered the cruelty in Claude’s voice when he had called her at the hotel.
‘I know who your daddy is,’ he’d said, and Natalya had frozen. ‘But he won’t be your daddy for much longer. I would say that right now he is opening his gun case … Think of the mess he has made.’
Natalya had screamed down the phone at him until finally he had said, in little more than a whisper: ‘His name is Hugo Wittstanley. I believe you know him.’ Although Natalya didn’t know how she felt about Hugo, what she wanted from him, she realized now that she didn’t want him to die.
‘Hugo,’ she said, ‘I understand now thet you sent those letters because you were desperate, because you love Tara, as I do. But I don’t believe you would ever actually hef tried to harm me physically.’
‘No,’ Hugo sobbed. ‘As soon as I saw you I knew you were mine, and I felt a deep bond with you.’
‘At times I wanted you dead,’ Natalya said, ‘But I could never hef tried to kill you. Only you did that, twice. In the end you hef punished yourself more than anyone else possibly could.’
Finally Tina shook herself out of her stupor. Taking Natalya’s hands in hers, she said, ‘This is a shock for all of us. But let us look at the good that has come from the bad. You have been a rock for my daughter through her life-threatening drug dependency. Your generosity saved her life. Hugo’s infidelity was so long ago, and perhaps I must take some blame that he was unable to confide in me, so that he went to such terrible lengths to prevent us from knowing.’
‘No—’ Hugo cried.
<
br /> ‘I feel I’ve gained a daughter in you, Natalya,’ Tina sobbed. ‘And you have gained a father and a sister.’
Tara was still in a state of numb disbelief, but she too spoke up.
‘Papa, I really thought you were dead. To be honest, the news that you and Daina had it away in Latvia is actually a slight improvement. And now I have a sister to gang up on you with.’
Hugo gave a wan smile. Tara and Natalya hugged each other tight, burying their faces in each other’s necks. Tara looked up at Philip, who was beaming at her proudly. She felt blessed to have them both in her life. She was determined to shower her new sister with all the affection she’d missed out on from their father.
Tina insisted that Daina send for the rest of her children, who were waiting in London at Claridge’s, and that they all spend a few days at Willowborough before flying out to Milan with Natalya. Philip was also invited to stay, and he happily accepted. Tara couldn’t believe he was unfazed by the day’s lurid events. If he could cope with this, then there was nothing he’d be unable to deal with. Nothing could be worse than this. The thought made Tara incredibly happy.
Chapter 32
Days later, a small group gathered at Gatwick Airport to see Abena off on her worldwide publicity and pre-production tour for Vanity Fair. She’d spent the last few days at home with her family and now it was time to say goodbye to the girls. She’d been in a bit of a daze since she’d learnt that Benedict had moved away, but had resolved that this trip was just what she needed to take her mind off him. Looking relaxed but radiant in cream skinny jeans, chunky burgundy high heels and three tight T-shirts layered over each other, with a classic trench thrown on over the top, she kissed Simon on both cheeks before taking Sarah in her arms and hugging her.
‘Good luck with the new role, hon, I’m sure you’ll do amazingly. You’re a press and production hotshot now.’
Sarah laughed. ‘Well, have an unbelievable time, and then, when you come back, let’s take over the world together.’
Turning to Philip, Abena told him how happy she was that he and Tara had found each other.
Lastly she turned to Tara – for all her flaws, the best friend she’d ever had – and wrapped her into a long hug. Tara kissed her friend, partner in crime for so long, and they exchanged knowing smirks.
‘Have fun,’ they said simultaneously.
The sight of the customs officers and x-ray machines soon shook Abena back to reality. As it hit home that she would never have to enter the Mallinder offices again, and that a brand new life experience lay just a few short hours away, she was overcome with an uncontrollable wave of nervous excitement. Exactly this time last year she and Tara had been on their way to St Tropez and she’d had the same intense, expectant feeling – only now it was ten times stronger. She looked up at a gigantic billboard on the airport terminal wall and winked at Natalya’s beaming face, peering out from behind a bottle of Blue Whisper. She thought of the extraordinary events at Willowborough, the heartbreak that had accompanied Natalya her whole life, and of the new beginning they could all now look to. Smiling, she exited the gate and boarded the aircraft.
Lolling in her seat near the front of the plane, Abena fiddled with her seatbelt as her fellow passengers filed past – an assortment of slick City types, chic French women and harassed Brits with screeching children. And then, suddenly, a familiar figure emerged. She could see his soulful eyes clearly, and although he looked tired and a little drawn, he was perfect. She’d longed for this moment incessantly, yet now that it was upon her she was at an absolute loss.
As Benedict’s gaze finally alighted on Abena she surprised them both by starting to cry. She had rehearsed this moment many times, and tears had certainly never been part of the equation, but she was overwhelmed with relief and happiness. Benedict raced down the aisle towards her, stopping only to help an elderly lady who was struggling with her luggage. Abena laughed through her tears – even at a time like this he was thinking of others. Finally he flung himself into the empty seat beside Abena; his seat.
‘Abena!’ he cried. ‘I can’t believe it! You’re working on Vanity Fair too? Oh don’t cry, please don’t cry!’
He wanted desperately to hug her, but remembering their last encounter he hesitated. Abena solved the dilemma by throwing herself into his arms.
‘I thought you’d gone back to LA or something! I … I went to your flat and they said you’d moved abroad …’
‘What were you at my apartment for? I thought you wanted nothing to do with me because, well, because you seemed so shocked when I kissed you and then we had that stupid row which by the way was completely—’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Abena half sobbed, half laughed. ‘You’re here now. I’m here now.’
‘But then I called you and left you missed calls and … Oh God, your baby nephew must have got hold of your phone again—’
‘What?’
‘And then I didn’t think you wanted to see me, and then Carey asked me to do this thing, and my rental contract was ending on my house anyway … So I spent a couple of weeks in LA before coming back to pick up a couple of things and get my flight out from here.’
Ben cupped her head gently in his two hands and kissed her. She kissed him back. It was the most tender kiss of her life.
‘It’s amazing,’ she said, ‘every time I meet you, you reveal another side to you … I just, I can’t wait to get to know you … And yet I feel like I know you better than anybody else in the world.’
‘Abena, in some ways I don’t know you at all, but I know that I love you.’
‘I love you too, Ben. I think I was doomed ever since we listened to Bob Dylan that rainy day in Bristol.’
‘Oh, honey! I found you gorgeous the very first time I saw you. But I became your slave the first time we kissed.’
‘So what are you saying? That I loved you before you loved me?’ They kissed again. The plane took off and soared into the sky, but these two were already high on life and the promise it held for them.
Epilogue
The wrap party for Vanity Fair was held in St Tropez. Carey Wallace had employed all the best people to work on his blockbuster and now they were all gathered at Sin.
Bertrand Brampton Amis had provided a large chunk of the film’s funding, and he was in the mood to party. Scheherazade, the winner of Britain’s Next Musical Megastar, had recorded much of the film’s soundtrack, and as she sang her first hit single, ‘Today’s the Day’, Bertrand started up a dance-off with Benedict Lima and Simon Tamarand. Abena, giggling helplessly as the three men posed and wiggled on the revolving dance-floor, judged the competition and rewarded the victorious Benedict with a kiss. Willy, Sarah and Si and the rest of Willy’s team had flown out for the party.
Abena was already in France, where she had been holidaying with Benedict at George Clooney’s beach house. She had taken an especially keen interest in the casting of the film and had arranged for Natalya to make a cameo appearance as a mysterious beauty. Abena was thrilled when, during filming, Natalya and Jake Jendar, the hot male lead had fallen for each other; these days, the celeb magazines just couldn’t get enough of the gorgeous couple. Tara had also blagged a job on the film, as assistant costume supervisor, and had made a grand entrance to the party in a vintage Valentino cocktail dress that she’d ‘borrowed’ from the wardrobe department, complementing Philip, handsome in heirloom white tie, as if they were made for each other. Tara had invited her parents to the party too, so they could meet all her new friends in the film world, but Lord and Lady Bridges were too busy enjoying the romance of their Cotswolds home with Lamb and Ferdy, tons of sparkling elderflower cordial, and of course each other.
Reza had left the organization of the wrap party to Henry, who, as usual, had done a superb job. And he had his own reasons to celebrate. Now officially Henry Spectre, he had taken Alex’s name following their civil partnership ceremony at Claridge’s last month. Sebastian had appointed himself maid of honour a
nd bought his brother an engraved Rolex to show him how sorry he was for his earlier behaviour. Even Reza was in the mood to make amends – he’d been forced to forgive Sebastian for ruining his launch because, in reality, he would do whatever Henry wanted, and Henry wanted his husband’s family at the party.
‘Two years later, and here we are again!’ Abena sat sipping champagne on the deck of Sin with Tara, Natalya and Sarah. The sun glinted off the solid gold bar and the four friends couldn’t have been happier.
Tara watched as a familiar pale figure pleaded to be let on to the boat. She poked her head over the side and smiled down at the rock star Dan Donahue.
‘Hi,’ he called up, ‘I know you!’
‘No,’ Tara replied, ‘I don’t think you do.’ She rejoined the girls and took a long sip of champagne.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This book was immense fun to write. Thank you to everyone who helped inspire it – rest assured I won’t name and shame you all!
Thank you also to my delightful agent, Sallyanne Sweeney, my fantastic editor and now friend, Laura Palmer, and to Rina Gill and all the brilliant people at Corvus.
All of my friends have been wonderfully supportive, so I am sorry for many undoubted omissions. The following people have offered particularly useful advice, jokes, tips, support and encouragement, or just exceptional friendship while I was writing Sin Tropez:
Jenny Bacon, Candice Baseden, Paddy Docherty, Roley Finer, Laura Fraser, Mark Kent, Nura Khan, Nicholas Lezard, Ella Lister, Miles Morland, Faridah Nabaale, Amy Nelson, Katie Prescott, Leonie Schneider, David Wildridge, and a dear friend departed, Jessica MacKenzie.
Finally, I ’d like to thank my family: my mother, father and two sisters, Enida and Natasha. Your unwavering love and encouragement means more than I can say.
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