B004D4Y20I EBOK

by Taylor, Lulu

  Donna shook her head. ‘Doesn’t look good, I’m afraid. We’ll have to think of someone else to approach.’

  ‘The sale of the Loxton contents is going through soon,’ said Poppy. She felt uncomfortable talking about the Tea Rose face, as though it was her fault that Neave had said no. ‘So we’ll have more cash to put into our budget for the US campaign.’

  ‘And I’ve got three viewings of Eaton Square this afternoon, from the kind of girls whose daddies pay in cash,’ announced Jemima. ‘I’m sure that will mean another couple of mill for the US campaign.’

  Donna sighed and shook her head. ‘It isn’t going to be enough, ladies. It just isn’t. We’ve spent so much already. I know we should be able to afford it, with the millions you’re pouring in from your own money, but we won’t.’

  They were all silent and morose as Donna’s words sank in.

  Claudine frowned. ‘But I don’t understand. If we can’t afford it, why should we pay for it?’

  ‘Because we need to launch in America,’ Tara said wearily. ‘If we don’t, we may as well not bother launching at all.’

  ‘So get someone else to pay for it,’ Claudine said with a shrug.

  They all looked at her, bewildered, having forgotten she was even in the room.

  ‘No one will lend us that kind of money,’ said Tara. ‘Not without the kind of securities that we just can’t offer.’

  ‘You don’t need to borrow the money,’ Claudine said impatiently. ‘Do you think you are the only small perfume house with this problem? Of course not. Plenty of small European houses, with a great success here and in America, do not have the kind of power and presence needed to manage their business in the States. So, they go into partnership with someone who can. They go to a big company, creator of hundreds of bestselling fragrances – not just luxury perfumes but the smells that go into our laundry, our cleaners, our shampoos, our mouthwashes, our medicines, everything – and license them to do that work for them. A company that has the money and the network to distribute their perfume. Et voilà – money and success for everyone.’

  There was another silence as everyone considered her words, but this time with a seed of hope within it.

  ‘I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. It’s the perfect solution,’ breathed Donna.

  ‘Oh my God, you’re a genius!’ exclaimed Jemima, throwing her arms around Claudine.

  Tara smiled. ‘I’d better get on a plane to New York right away.’

  Jemima popped into Claudine’s temporary office before she went home.

  ‘Hi,’ she said shyly. ‘I just wanted to thank you for your great suggestions today. I think you’ve cracked it for us.’

  ‘It is what you pay me for.’ Claudine smiled at her a little mischievously. ‘How are you, chérie?’

  ‘Fine, fine – really, fine.’ Jemima sat down a little awkwardly. ‘I just wanted to say … about Paris. Well, we haven’t spoken about it since you got back.’

  ‘Please.’ Claudine waved Jemima’s words away. ‘Don’t think of it. I have heard that you and your husband have reconciled. That is very good. I knew that our little liaison was no more than a spontaneous bright moment, to exist only then, like a dream. I did not expect or want more. I shall treasure the memory of it because it was rather beautiful. But that is all.’

  ‘I suppose I shouldn’t flatter myself that you wanted more.’

  Claudine shrugged. ‘You are fascinating, of course.’ She smiled her mysterious smile. ‘But so am I.’

  ‘You certainly are.’ Jemima laughed.

  ‘I am happy for you. Go home to your husband, I can see you want to be on your way.’

  Jemima jumped up. ‘Good night, you fascinating thing!’ She blew her a kiss and then hurried out into the corridor, hearing Claudine laughing lightly behind her.

  Jecca looked with disgust at the newspaper on the table in front of her. Ferrera had left two nights ago and she had no one she could share her feelings with. She jumped up, feeling thwarted, and started to march about the apartment.

  The pictures made her sick: the golden couple smiling lovingly at each other as they relaxed on their country estate. Yuk! Seeing Jemima playing happy families with her tedious husband was nauseating. Jecca couldn’t believe that the papers had swallowed that crap. Everyone knew that Jemima had been cheating on him virtually since the day they were married! But something had happened to bring them back together. Well, there was nothing she could do about that.

  But it was what Jemima had said in her interview that stung most of all: ‘We don’t know why Jecca has turned against the family in the way she has. She vanished without a word years ago, so it was no wonder my mother didn’t include her in the will. She rejected us long before we rejected her. If she wanted to work with us in our very exciting project here at Trevellyan, she could have approached us rather than going through the courts. Surely we could have resolved this amicably, without the vast expense of lawyers and a court case. Our fondest wish is that we can all be reconciled again.’

  ‘Lying bitch!’ hissed Jecca. ‘You hate my guts. And I hate yours.’ She stalked over to the window and looked out over the leafy borough of Kensington. ‘Well, well. We might just have to take this up a notch a little sooner than I expected.’

  She went over to the phone, picked it up and dialled a number. ‘Hi. Yes, I want you to get me Poppy Trevellyan’s private number. I don’t know, just do it. Now.’

  She put the receiver down and crossed her arms thoughtfully. At the party she had relished taking on the Trevellyan sisters en masse. Now she was prepared for single combat.

  47

  TARA HAD WANTED to sleep on the plane, but she was far too keyed up. Only the day before her offer on the Clapham house had been accepted. That morning, she received the news she had hoped for: there was a buyer for the Holland Park house, a wealthy Arab prince who was delighted with the place because it was only doors away from members of his extended family. He would pay cash and he wanted to exchange quickly. The documents would have to be couriered to Gerald in South Africa for his signature but Tara didn’t see a problem with that. Her husband knew that he wouldn’t be living in England again in the near future, if ever.

  But if things turned out the way she hoped, it meant she might be able to move into the Clapham house within two months, before the launch of Tea Rose. Then they could start to live their new life. And maybe after Christmas, she would take the children to South Africa for a trip to see their father. It was easy to recognise that calls via video phone and laptop were not going to be enough. And Edward and Imo mustn’t lose touch with Gerald, no matter what he’d done.

  The plane began its descent into New York. Tara loved the city and was secretly delighted that her work allowed her to visit it, even if it meant leaving the children for a few days. Thank God for Robina, whom they loved and trusted. They were safe with her, Tara knew that.

  She had decided not to stay in the New York house, even though it was still available to her. It was too marked by Gerald’s presence but, more than that, there was no one there to prepare it for her. It would be cold, dark and dirty, and altogether less than welcoming. No, she would stay at one of her favourite hotels, the Soho Grand in downtown New York. It might not be as convenient as something in the midtown district, but she valued its calm, elegant rooms and the vibrant, artistic neighbourhood.

  There was so much to think about. Besides the plan of uprooting her family and moving to a new house, dealing with a divorce and her husband’s situation, she also felt that they were at crunch time as far as Trevellyan was concerned. If this distribution partnership idea came off, then they might just save the day. If not, then she may as well call Jecca and ask her to come and collect the keys to Trevellyan House there and then.

  Now there was a spanner in the works she hadn’t anticipated. She had always feared that one day that angry little girl who had fractured their lives, their childhoods and their family might reappear and cause mo
re havoc. But she had not foreseen this dramatic return.

  So all along, Jecca had been with Ferrera. That was so odd. She couldn’t understand how that had come about. Jecca must have somehow got herself to the States after she vanished, and at some point her path must have crossed with that of the charismatic businessman …

  But who was Jecca? Was she really Cecil’s daughter? Was she Tara’s own half-sister? Tara frowned, watching the Manhattan skyline grow ever closer as they came in to land at JFK. It was so hard to believe because there didn’t seem to be an ounce of Trevellyan blood in her. She looked so different to them, her Italian heritage dominating her personality and features, that it was hard to see how she could be Daddy’s daughter. But something had to explain his attachment to her. It had been too strong to be normal. Was it, as Jemima suggested, sexual? Tara tried to imagine it for a moment, and then banished the picture from her mind, sickened.

  If only they could find out once and for all, perhaps this strange situation could somehow be resolved. Then a thought suddenly occurred to her. She pulled out her BlackBerry and quickly fired off an email to Jemima, pushing send just as the flight attendant came by and asked her to switch it off.

  Jemima took advantage of her visit to Herne for the photo shoot to stay on for a couple of days with Harry. It was like being on honeymoon again. They spent long mornings lying in bed together, chatting, making love, dozing and then starting all over again. Harry abandoned his old bedroom at the front of the house and joined her in her cosy boudoir.

  ‘You’ve really made this nice, you know,’ he commented as they lay in bed.

  ‘Do you think so? You know, that’s the first time you’ve ever said that.’ She grinned. ‘Maybe you should let me get my hands on the rest of the house …’

  ‘Oh, I’m not sure,’ Harry said doubtfully.

  ‘I’m teasing. I know nothing is allowed to change. Not for a while, anyway. But, I’ve been thinking. There is something we could do here.’

  ‘What?’ Harry sounded tentative. He didn’t want the loving calm that existed between them to come to an end just yet.

  ‘Well, we’ve just had all this publicity, through that silly newspaper thing. And the Vogue article will come out when we launch and they were so interested in this place and what we were doing with it …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘What about if we left the house strictly alone – but did something with the old stables?’

  Harry frowned. ‘The stables?’

  ‘Yes. We could turn them into something really interesting. I was thinking about a day spa, using the Trevellyan treatments and products. Then we could open a restaurant as well.’ Jemima became full of enthusiasm as she talked about it. ‘Think about it. We’ve got more fresh produce than we know what to do with. We’ve got meat, vegetables, herbs, fruit. We could run the most fantastic organic restaurant, and even open a farm shop if we started making our own jams and all that sort of thing. But best of all, we could offer Trevellyan treatments and have a Trevellyan shop here. It would be a neat little enterprise. What do you think?’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Harry said. ‘That’s quite a lot to absorb straight off.’

  ‘OK, so think about it. But I could use some of the flat money to set it up. And it would bring in an income without you having to open up the house to the public. I know you’ve never wanted that.’

  ‘Jemima …’ Harry turned over to face her. ‘Just us for a while first, OK? I’m not saying no. I actually think it sounds really interesting and anything that interests you and keeps you at Herne is something I’m keen to consider. Plus, if it makes money to help preserve the house, all the better. But first, let’s just concentrate on us.’

  ‘All right, all right.’ Jemima put her head on his chest. ‘It’s just so hard, when I’ve got so many ideas, when everything at Trevellyan is approaching its big moment.’

  ‘I know, darling. I know.’ He kissed the top of her fair head and stroked her back.

  Poppy could hardly believe what she was hearing.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing calling me?’ she said furiously.

  ‘Poppy, please.’ Jecca sounded amiable, friendly. ‘You’re the only one I can talk to, you know that. Jemima and I have always hated each other and Tara has always resented me. You’re the only one who didn’t have that kind of relationship with me.’

  ‘Maybe. But my loyalty is to Tara and Jemima, you know that. I’m not about to strike any secret deals with you, so don’t think for a moment that you can use me. Anything you say to me will go straight back to the other two.’

  ‘I understand that,’ said Jecca evenly. ‘But at least you’ll listen to me. The others wouldn’t even do that.’

  Poppy thought for a moment. That was true. And perhaps it would be to their advantage to hear what Jecca had to say. ‘All right, then. Talk.’

  ‘I want to meet in person.’

  Poppy gasped with horror. ‘No. No way.’

  ‘Please, Poppy. I’m begging you. Give me twenty minutes, that’s all. I just need to explain myself to you.’

  ‘I thought you did a pretty good job of that at your boyfriend’s party.’

  ‘We were all a bit carried away. I’d appreciate the chance to talk to you in a calmer way, without all that noise and attention.’

  ‘I really don’t want to meet you, Jecca.’

  ‘But this is a chance for us to get this all sorted out. Why should we have to face each other in court, with all our dirty linen being washed in public, when a short meeting and a few words could solve everything? But I can’t do it over the phone, Poppy, you must see that.’

  Poppy stood up and walked to the window, staring out across the square without seeing it. At last she said, ‘All right. If you honestly think we can get this sorted out as easily as that, then I’m prepared to meet you. Where will you be and when?’

  Jecca was waiting for her when she walked through the restaurant and out into the garden at the back. Poppy saw her at once, sitting neatly on a garden bench in the courtyard, a glass of water and lemon and a bottle of Badoit on the table beside her. She was wearing red again, this time a button-through dress, and ballet pumps. Her sunglasses were perched high on her dark hair as she flicked through a magazine. As Poppy approached, she looked up and smiled.

  ‘Hi, thanks so much for coming.’ She stood up and went to kiss Poppy but the other woman held out her hand coolly, so they shook hands instead. ‘You’ve changed so much.’

  ‘So have you,’ Poppy said coldly as she sat down. Jecca had always had striking dark looks but now they had matured into a real beauty. It wasn’t just her looks, though; Jecca’s voice had also changed. She had a slight American intonation now. So that answered the mystery of where she had disappeared to all those years ago.

  ‘Tell me about yourself,’ persisted Jecca, pouring a glass of water for Poppy. ‘We must have so much news to catch up on. I’ve heard you’re an artist now. I always knew you’d be the one to really make something of yourself. You had a special aura, you know? Not like the other two. They were very ordinary.’

  ‘Jecca, I’m not here to make small talk or to have a joyful reunion with you. As long as you are pursuing my sisters and me through the courts, I can’t do idle chit-chat and mutual admiration.’

  Jecca’s smile faded for a moment, but she quickly cheered up again. ‘All right. Fine. If that’s how you want it.’

  ‘I do. Do we still have anything to say to each other?’

  ‘I think we do. I need to tell you the truth about me, so you can understand why I’m doing what I’m doing. Perhaps you and the others have speculated about this before now, maybe you’ve even guessed.’ Jecca’s hand went to her locket and she started twisting it. ‘The truth is that I’m Cecil Trevellyan’s daughter, his natural daughter. I’m your half-sister.’

  ‘Can you prove it?’ Poppy asked at once, watching Jecca twist the necklace round and round.

  ‘Of course.’ Jecca s
hrugged. ‘If I need to. But I think we all know in our hearts that I am who I say I am. Your father ravished my mother not long after she arrived in your home. I was the result.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Because darling Daddy told me, of course! He couldn’t hide anything from me. You know how he was with me.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Poppy huskily, suddenly choked. ‘That’s why it killed him when you vanished.’

  ‘He always knew where I was,’ said Jecca carelessly.

  ‘I don’t believe you. He was heartbroken, we could all see that. There’s no way that was put on.’

  ‘Have it your own way. It’s my word against yours. Like I said, I have proof and I’m not afraid to use it.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Because I want to make you an offer. If you and the others bring me in now, give me my quarter, recognise me as your real sister, I’ll drop my case.’

  ‘That’s your offer?’ Poppy exclaimed, astonished.

  Jecca nodded, blinking innocently, her dark red lips curving into a sweet smile. ‘I still think back fondly to the years we spent growing up together. Remember how we played in the nursery? How we ran round the garden and went swimming? I miss those days. I miss Tara and Jemima too, believe it or not. I want us all to be a family again.’

  I don’t think I do believe it, thought Poppy. Surely the last person in the world that Jecca missed was Jemima. She looked quizzical. ‘Let me make sure I’ve got this straight. We accept you back, and accept your claim that Daddy was your father, give you a quarter of the company –’

  ‘Maybe a quarter of everything is more realistic,’ Jecca put in quickly.

  ‘– and you drop your case. Why didn’t you suggest this sooner? Why the big scene at the party?’

  Jecca smiled slyly. ‘I suppose I had to get your attention somehow. It was a little over the top, perhaps, but I’m not one to do things by halves.’

  ‘You certainly succeeded in grabbing our attention,’ Poppy said grimly. ‘Didn’t it occur to you that it would be much harder to start pulling the loving sister act afterwards?’