B004D4Y20I EBOK

by Taylor, Lulu

  The shop itself was almost ready to open, its new staff trained in using the gorgeous French skin products scented with Trevellyan fragrances.

  ‘I’ll never have to go anywhere else,’ Jemima declared. ‘How frightfully convenient – my beautician right below the office.’

  ‘And if your plans come to fruition, you’ll have your personal spa at home in the country as well,’ Poppy pointed out.

  ‘Mmm, yes, won’t that be nice!’ Jemima smiled. ‘It all depends how the finances work out. We’ll see, as Mother used to say. I want to discuss it with Tara. She’s back in the office this afternoon, isn’t she?’

  Poppy nodded. ‘I think she’s going to be so impressed with what we’ve achieved in such a short time. The whole campaign is virtually ready.’

  ‘Let’s hope she has good news for us as well,’ Jemima said. ‘If she hasn’t managed to pull off a distribution deal, it could still all go wrong.’

  ‘But we’ve got Neave now. She’s so big in the States, it’s bound to work in our favour.’

  ‘I hope so, Pops. I really do.’

  They were assembled in the boardroom when Tara arrived: Jemima, Poppy and Donna, all looking serious and businesslike. It seemed like an age since the sisters had sat there, bewildered by the industry they had been unwillingly thrust into. Now they appeared thoroughly at home in the boardroom, in charge of the tasks they had been entrusted with and confident of their product’s imminent success.

  Tara walked in, smiling, looking smart but decidedly feminine in a dark blue Vivienne Westwood skirt and white, short-sleeved blouse with a dark blue ribbon belt tied round her waist in a bow. ‘Hi, everyone. Great to see you all.’

  ‘You too.’ Jemima raised her eyebrows. ‘You look perky.’

  ‘Yes. I feel perky. For the first time in a long time, I feel bloody fantastic, if you must know. My trip to New York was very interesting and very productive.’ She sat down and put her laptop case on the table. ‘I’ve got some good news.’ She looked at each of them in turn, building the anticipation. ‘We have a US partner.’

  Donna clapped her hands, smiling broadly. ‘Yeah!’ she exclaimed. ‘That’s fantastic news, well done, Tara! What’s the deal?’

  ‘We’re going to sell a five-year licence for a very, very healthy sum of money indeed, and we’re going to work in partnership with our new licensee to expand the brand all over the world, not just in the States. We’ll retain complete control over the formula, marketing concepts and creative direction, though we will work together with our new partner to fine-tune our ideas for particular markets. At the end of five years, we can reassess the partnership, and relicense, if that’s what we want to do.’

  ‘Wow!’ breathed Jemima. ‘That’s wonderful. Well done, Tara.’

  ‘It lets you two off the hook a little. Poppy …’ Tara turned to her. ‘You don’t have to go through with the sale of Loxton’s contents, if you don’t want to. I know the house is gone, but we can still keep what was inside.’

  Poppy smiled. ‘I’m glad we’ve solved the problem but I don’t think I want to keep all that stuff. I’ve really said my goodbyes to most of it all ready. And what would we do with it? I think I’d prefer to let it go and then decide what’s to be done with the money. It can’t hurt to have a little financial security, can it?’

  ‘No. You’re right. It’s good to feel free of it all, isn’t it? And Jemima, it looks like you can keep Eaton Square after all. I’m planning to look afresh at our financial structure and salary arrangements in the new year. Then you should be in a position to maintain it.’

  Jemima smiled. ‘You know what? I feel like Poppy. I’ve said my goodbyes. It’s time to move on with my life. My future lies with Harry now, and I think I should finally give up my bachelorette pad. Besides, I’ve earmarked the money for other things. Harry and I will probably buy a little flat in London some time, but I want to develop a Trevellyan spa and restaurant at Herne. And Harry still needs money for the Great Hall and a dozen other things, so –’

  ‘You’re selling your flat and putting the money into Herne?’ Tara said disbelievingly. ‘Have I come back to the same planet I left last week? And what’s all this about a Trevellyan spa – I mean, it sounds fantastic. What’s it all about?’

  ‘I’ll tell you later. I’ve got some wonderful plans, you’ll love them.’

  Donna interrupted, too impatient to wait. ‘But Tara, you haven’t told us – who is the new partner?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I was just coming to that.’ Tara stood up gracefully and went to the boardroom door. She opened it, stood aside and announced, ‘Ladies, may I introduce our new licensee and partner – Richard Ferrera.’

  On cue, Richard walked into the room, looking suave in a Jermyn Street suit, red silk tie and handmade Church’s brogues, a broad smile on his face. ‘Good afternoon, ladies. It is my total pleasure to be here.’

  The others gaped at him, unable to say anything until the shock of seeing Richard Ferrera in the Trevellyan boardroom had been absorbed.

  ‘What’s he doing here?’ demanded Jemima, finding her tongue at last.

  Tara held up her hand for calm. ‘I told you, he’s our new partner.’

  ‘How can he be?’ asked Poppy, horrified. ‘He’s Jecca’s partner! We all saw them together at Spencer House. That means Jecca has won after all. Tara, how could you?’

  ‘Wait, wait, you don’t understand.’ Tara turned to Ferrera. ‘Richard, you’d better explain.’

  ‘Of course.’ He sat down and faced the suspicious faces opposite him. ‘First, I’d better tell you that Jecca Farnese and I have no further relationship, business or otherwise. In fact, in about twenty minutes, she’ll be escorted from my apartment in Kensington by two large security guards. She’ll be allowed to take her personal possessions but nothing more. Her access to FFB and any information she has stored on company hardware ceases immediately.’

  There was a pause as they imagined how Jecca would react to this scenario, and the atmosphere in the room lightened considerably.

  ‘Isn’t that just going to enrage her further?’ Poppy asked. ‘And make her even more determined to take us to court and fight for her share of the company?’

  Ferrera nodded. ‘As I understand it, Jecca has tried to cover every eventuality with her case. She claims that, as well as being an adopted Trevellyan, she is also your father’s natural daughter. Tara has told me that she’s even made allegations of a sexual relationship, as though that will reinforce her claim to a kind of compensation in the form of a share of the company. It’s distasteful to talk about, of course, but we have to face the reality of it. Jecca is certainly not afraid to stand up in court and lie. But I think she’s made a classic mistake. She’s put too many ingredients into her wicked spell.’

  ‘In England, we might say she’s overegged the pudding,’ added Jemima.

  Ferrera smiled. ‘A good expression. Of course, the best-laid plans can go awry, we all know that. And the first rule of deception must be that you never commit your plans to paper.’ Ferrera pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. ‘So I guess Jecca is about to feel very, very sorry that she wrote me this letter.’ He unfolded the paper and smoothed it. ‘Allow me to read you the relevant part.’ He scanned the bold, dark handwriting and then began. ‘“The silly old man always did whatever I asked, he was my slave. Everyone knew it. He felt so guilty over what he’d done to my parents that nothing was enough to make it up to me, he did anything I wanted. I can use this to my advantage when it comes to the crunch. There’s no one to contradict whatever I choose to say happened between us.”’

  They waited for more and when there was none, Jemima said in a disappointed voice, ‘So she doesn’t actually say that she’s going to lie about a sexual relationship.’

  ‘No. That would be a little too neat.’ Ferrera looked over at her seriously. ‘But it throws a serious doubt on her claims. And what victim ever called her abuser her slave and a silly old man? It’s got to
undermine her case.’

  ‘Do you think there’s the slightest chance it could be true?’ Poppy asked fearfully. ‘If she really were abused by Daddy … well, I couldn’t live with myself if we dismissed it as lies.’

  Ferrera leaned forward and stared her straight in the eye. ‘I honestly believe she made it up. She told me a great deal of her sexual history, with much relish. She told me that she lost her virginity at sixteen to a boy who was not much older. At no point did she ever mention a sexual relationship with your father. I know Jecca. She has no inhibitions. She would most certainly have told me if it were true.’ He sat back and took a deep breath. ‘My own theory is that she’s come up with this story to divert attention from something else: the fact that she was never legally adopted as a Trevellyan.’

  ‘She wasn’t?’ Jemima said, wide-eyed with surprise. The three sisters glanced at each other, astonishment on their faces. They had grown up believing that Jecca was their adopted sister.

  Ferrera shook his head. ‘Now, that’s one thing she did tell me. She tried to make the old man do it but his wife, your mother, wouldn’t sign the papers. She wanted my advice about how easy it was to forge official papers. I told her it was difficult and not the kind of thing I could help her with.’

  ‘So that’s why she’s suddenly claimed she’s Daddy’s natural daughter,’ breathed Jemima. ‘Her case for a share of the company is much weaker if she was never legally adopted as a Trevellyan.’ She whistled lightly. ‘Good old Mother. I never thought I’d say that.’

  ‘But when we talked about your visit to Alice, you said that she thinks it very likely Jecca is Daddy’s daughter,’ Tara said gravely.

  ‘That’s what Jecca must be banking on,’ answered Jemima. ‘She must think that she’s got witnesses to back up her claim.’

  ‘But surely a DNA test would solve it easily,’ Tara commented. ‘It would say definitively one way or the other, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘If she has any doubts, she could refuse to have one, I suppose, although it would weaken her case.’

  Tara clenched her fist. ‘That must be why she stole the locket from Mummy’s dressing table. She must have done it when she visited that last time. It’s got her hair inside, which we could have tested ourselves to find out whether she was related to us or not.’

  ‘So she stole the locket to stop us doing that. But more to the point,’ added Jemima, ‘she can use our hair to fake a DNA result if she isn’t Daddy’s daughter. She could use our sample instead of hers.’

  Tara went pale. ‘Oh my God, you’re right. I hadn’t thought of that. Christ! I can’t believe she managed to steal that locket.’

  Poppy reached her hand inside her handbag and drew out an envelope. From it she removed a slim silver chain, at the end of it a smooth oval pendant with a swan engraved on the front. She placed it on the table and pushed it into the middle so that they could all see it.

  ‘Do you mean this locket?’ she asked innocently.

  ‘Yes?’ Jecca said tersely as she opened the door. She was feeling bothered, and the last thing she wanted was unexpected visitors.

  Richard had got back from New York yesterday and yet he still hadn’t been home to the apartment. His assistant had said he’d decided to stay at a hotel in town for business reasons but wouldn’t say which hotel it was. Jecca was beginning to sense that things were slipping out of her control. She’d been so obsessed with her Trevellyan battle that she hadn’t paid much attention to Richard lately but now she thought about it, he hadn’t spent one night in the same place as her for weeks. She hadn’t cared, so long as he was still playing his part in her plans. She had been confident that any time she chose, he would come running back. How could he resist her, after all?

  Now she suddenly wasn’t so sure. And the more she thought about it, the more signs she saw that all was not right. Her access to the FFB intranet had been denied that morning – a glitch, she’d thought. She’d had no company emails for weeks. And Richard had not been in touch for some time. In fact, for months now she had been the one doing all the chasing, so …

  Just as these thoughts were running round her head, there had been the knock at the door. She opened it to see two burly security guards standing there. ‘Yes? What do you want?’ she demanded.

  ‘We’re here to help you leave, miss,’ said one. ‘Could you gather any personal possessions – clothing and toiletries only, I’m afraid – and be ready to go in five minutes.’

  ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Jecca was stunned.

  ‘You heard him, miss,’ said the other one in a deep growl rich with testosterone. ‘Five minutes and you’re out of here.’

  Jecca folded her arms and smiled sarcastically. ‘I don’t think so.’

  The guards looked at each other, clearly relishing her refusal. That was the way they liked it.

  Five minutes later, Jecca was screaming and swearing, her cries echoing down the stairwell as the two guards herded her out of the building as gently as they could, considering her efforts to pummel them both.

  ‘You shits, you fucking meatheaded fuckheads! You can’t do this to me! Don’t you know who I am? I’m calling Richard right now and he’s going to have you fired! But before he fires you, he’s going to have you fucking skinned alive, you idiots! Give me back my phone and I’ll call him.’

  ‘Sorry, miss,’ said the bigger muscle mountain in his deep voice. ‘The phone is company property.’

  ‘Arrgh,’ screamed Jecca with frustration. ‘Just give me back my phone and my computer, please! Come on, guys! At least let me back in to get my clothes!’

  ‘You had five minutes, miss. You chose not to collect your things as we advised you,’ replied the first one, pushing her into the lobby. Jecca had used her time to try and call Richard or his assistant but with no success. She simply could not believe this was happening.

  She changed tack suddenly, and stopped her ranting. Instead she cocked her head seductively and purred, ‘I’ll make it worth your while …’

  The guards exchanged amused looks. ‘Nice offer, miss, but it’s more than our jobs are worth. I’m sure you understand.’

  Jecca’s face transformed again, back to looking like a furious little demon with eyes spitting rage. ‘Fuck you, then, motherfuckers!’ She stormed out ahead of them, down the stairs and into the lobby.

  That bastard Ferrera has totally fucked me over! she thought, fury coursing through her. What a shit. I can’t believe it. Those bitches must have got to him in the end. I wonder which one it was. Jemima, I expect, arrogant whore. I don’t care. I still have my secret weapon. She smiled to herself and put her hand to the locket at her throat. She lifted up the smooth case and looked at it. She frowned. It was the same size, shape and colour as her locket but it seemed different. Her locket had the delicate engraving of a swan on its surface. This had none. Panic rushed through her as she snapped it open. She gasped. The twist of hair, with its four different coloured strands plaited together, was nowhere to be seen. There was only a small slip of folded paper. She picked it up with shaking fingers and opened it. Two words were written in bold black letters on the tiny scrap: HA HA.

  The residents of Flat 4, a retired banker and his wife who devoted herself to charity work, were coming back in after a quiet afternoon drink at the Dog and Duck across the square, and were astonished to see, in their usually tranquil lobby, a striking young woman with olive skin, dark eyes and long black hair throw herself to the floor, kicking, screaming and shouting incoherently, for all the world like a spoiled five-year-old denied her favourite toy.

  ‘Oh dear, she doesn’t look too chipper,’ remarked the banker to his wife.

  ‘No, she doesn’t. I wonder what’s wrong?’ answered his wife, worriedly observing the young woman’s tantrum. ‘Do we think we ought to ask her?’

  ‘I wouldn’t, dear,’ muttered her husband. ‘She looks like she might bite.’

  They walked calmly on together.

  55
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  THE SHOP WAS thronging with beautiful people. Jemima had raided her address book and brought along the cream of high society. Stunning young girls clutched champagne flutes and posed nonchalantly in their designer dresses as they talked to shabby chic young fops and slightly paunchy businessmen. Actors, writers, musicians, hedge fund managers, designers, chief executives, glamorous housewives – they were all there, celebrating the launch of Tea Rose. On the pavement outside, paparazzi photographers snapped away as famous guests drifted in and out.

  Even Harry was there, smartly turned out in a jacket and tie, looking on proudly as his beautiful wife, stunning in a Marchesa beaded chiffon gown, welcomed everyone into the party. The shop looked fabulous, with giant glass vases holding great bunches of cool white hydrangea. The Trevellyan products, in their smart new livery, looked hugely tempting on their glass shelves, and people were happily sniffing at the tester bottles and trying on all the different fragrances. On the main table in the middle of the room was the display of Tea Rose, an angular pyramid of nude-pink boxes, surrounded by chunky Tea Rose candles and topped with an over-sized bottle of the brand new scent. It looked gorgeous and utterly desirable.

  On a television screen at the back, the film advertisement played on a loop, in between documentary footage of its creation. Every few minutes the camera would focus on Neave’s lovely face as she held a bottle of Tea Rose and sighed, ‘The essence of everything I love …’

  There were so many people at the party that it had spilled upstairs, where the offices and boardroom had been prepared, with another bar, tables loaded with sushi and more Tea Rose displays, and the door to the roof terrace had been opened for smokers.

  Harry went to find his wife. He wrapped his arms round her. ‘This is a triumph,’ he murmured into her ear.

  She turned round, beaming, and kissed him. ‘We couldn’t have wished for better. I’m glad we did it here and not somewhere anonymous. It feels like we’ve brought everyone home.’