Midnight Girls

by Lulu Taylor

  Chapter 68

  The Lechlade Private Hospital

  London

  Three weeks later

  ‘YOU’D BETTER COME quickly,’ the voice had said. ‘He’s asking for you. And I think time may be short.’

  So Allegra had gone at once to the private hospital in Kensington and been taken to the white room where David lay in bed, connected to all manner of flashing machines and drips.

  As they walked down the quiet corridors, she said, ‘I had no idea … no idea at all.’

  The nurse looked at her sympathetically. ‘He refused to tell anyone,’ she said. ‘We urged him to, but he wouldn’t. He used our support nurses here a little, but that was all. I don’t think he realised how quickly time would run out for him. His brain tumour was only diagnosed eight months ago.’

  ‘There was nothing to be done?’

  The nurse shook her head. ‘It’s inoperable. The only thing that might have helped was intensive radiotherapy, and he refused that. And in some ways it was a good thing – intensive radiotherapy is only recommended for someone who is fit and in good health, or it can make things much worse for the patient. David knew that with prolonged radiotherapy he’d spend the rest of his life in hospital feeling very ill, and that it was unlikely to do much to change his situation, so he had a short course to slow the growth, and now we’re concentrating on palliative care. All we’ve been able to do is make him more comfortable.’

  Allegra’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I can’t believe it. Not David.’ She turned to the nurse. ‘He doesn’t want to see anyone else? I could call my father.’

  The nurse shook her head. ‘No. Only a few friends. He specified no family – except for you.’

  David was hooked up to a drip and had a drain in his head to remove excess fluid that might cause pain and swelling. Allegra bit her lip when she saw him, even though the nurse had assured her he was comfortable.

  ‘Hello, David.’ She went over to him, sat next to the bed and took his hand in hers. ‘It’s Allegra.’

  His face had changed in only the few weeks since she’d seen him last: it was very pale and the cheeks were sunken. When he heard her voice, his eyelids flickered and he let out a long, low sigh. Then, slowly, he opened his eyes and moved his head just a little so he could see her.

  ‘’Legra,’ he said in a low whisper, the last syllable of her name coming out like a breath.

  ‘Yes, David, I’m here.’ Tears blurred her vision. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?’

  He raised his eyebrows a little. ‘So … boring. Illness. Nothing to be done anyway.’

  ‘But I could have been with you, helped you …’ A tear spilt out and ran down her cheek. ‘I hate to think of you going through this alone.’

  ‘No different from my life. Always alone, anyway.’ He sucked in a breath and let it go in a rasping exhalation. ‘Don’t cry. Really … no point.’

  She wiped away her tears and sniffed. ‘You are a stubborn old thing, aren’t you? You won’t let people love you.’

  He made a strange huffing sound and she realised he was laughing. ‘True! Love makes life so … difficult. I learnt that a long time ago.’ He looked at her again. His usually fierce blue eyes looked tired and watery. ‘I asked you here … because I need to say …’

  ‘You don’t have to say anything,’ she said, squeezing his hand gently. ‘I understand.’

  ‘No … no …’ He frowned. ‘Must say it. ’Legra, I’m sorry. You didn’t take any money, I know that now. I don’t understand why I thought you did.’

  ‘It was your illness,’ she said. ‘It’s perfectly clear. You weren’t yourself. I should have spotted it ages ago. You don’t have to apologise.’

  ‘I … want to,’ he said firmly. ‘Not just the money. I sold the clubs … took them away from you. I didn’t want you to have them – I don’t know why.’

  ‘They were yours.’ She put out a hand and stroked his hair. ‘You could do what you liked with them. I always knew that they were yours.’

  He blinked at her slowly and tried to smile. ‘So sweet of you. I know you loved them. Should have left them for you … don’t know why I didn’t.’ His eyes clouded. ‘She paid me a lot of money. Lots and lots. But I did something else …’

  She waited.

  ‘I … I …’ He closed his eyes and breathed another long, slow breath, as if gathering his strength. Then he opened them and gazed at her, a deep melancholy on his face. ‘I made a new will. I cut you out. Too late to change it …’ He scrabbled for her with his other hand, putting it on top of hers. ‘I’m so sorry. You worked so hard. You’ll have nothing to show for it.’

  ‘That’s all right, David.’

  ‘Please … don’t hate me for it.’ His eyes were pleading.

  ‘I don’t hate you.’ She smiled at him. ‘You silly thing, I love you! I don’t care about the money, I never have. I’d spend all I have in an instant to make you better.’

  He closed his eyes and a tear leaked out from under his lids. ‘I’m a … stupid old man. You were my pearl. Best thing in my life. So sorry …’

  ‘Shhh. Don’t give it another thought,’ she soothed. ‘It doesn’t matter a bit. Just sleep and get your strength back.’

  He sighed, and slipped into sleep as though his confession had sapped his strength. She sat with him, watching his chest rise and fall and his lips tremble with the effort of drawing in breath. All she could do now was be with him, and she did that right through the night until the day was breaking and, slowly, his breaths became longer and shallower until they rattled in his throat. The pauses between them lengthened and then, as light broke over London, he took his final breath, releasing it with a long, childlike sigh and letting himself go with it.

  Allegra whispered, ‘Goodbye, David.’ Then she bent over his hand, still clasped in hers, and wept.

  It was a grey wintery morning as she walked slowly down the hospital steps. People were bustling around, hurrying on their way to offices, meetings, appointments, or wherever their busy lives were taking them.

  Allegra moved among them, tall, calm and pale, carrying her sorrow with a kind of grace that made passersby look at her as they walked past. Who was that beautiful girl in the long black coat who looked like a queen in a solemn procession?

  Allegra didn’t notice them. Instead, she walked on, not really knowing where she was going. It was as though she’d only just realised what had happened to her in the last few weeks: she had lost her work, her lover, and now her uncle and mentor, the man who’d taught her so much.

  And the money?

  David had got one hundred million for the clubs, money he would never have made if she hadn’t recreated Colette’s and added Oscar’s and Astor House to his portfolio. Now, not only was she penniless but she had no job. She’d gone into the office to clear her desk before Christmas, and hadn’t been back since.

  That doesn’t matter, she thought. I’ll start all over again. I’ll have to work a while to make some money, get some capital together, but I can do it. This will be my greatest challenge yet.

  Watch out, world. Here I come.

  She walked to a park bench in a city square. A man was waiting for her there, bundled up in a long dark coat. He stood when he saw her, rising with difficulty on a weakened leg. He held out his arms and she went into them, shaking her head.

  ‘Oh, Adam, he’s gone,’ she sobbed.

  He kissed the top of her head and hugged her as though he would never let her go.

  Chapter 69

  FARM STREET CHURCH in Mayfair echoed to the sounds of the choir as they sang the triumphant recessional, a sparkling piece of Handel. The bride and groom were leaving the church, radiant with happiness.

  As Romily went past her two friends, she winked at them both.

  ‘Thank God she didn’t make us bridesmaids,’ Allegra murmured as they turned to watch the happy couple leave.

  ‘She knows us too well to put us in matching purple sa
tin,’ Imogen replied with a grin. She bounced Alex on her knee. He chortled and said, ‘Da, da, da!’ ‘See? Alex agrees.’ Imogen sighed with pleasure. ‘She looked beautiful, didn’t she?’

  ‘Amazing dress.’

  ‘Thirteen fittings! It’s Valentino couture. That lace is incredible.’

  ‘I expected no less. Come on. Let’s take Little Lord Fauntleroy there and get to Claridge’s for the reception.’

  The bride and groom had already left in a cream Daimler to be driven the short distance to the hotel. The rest of the congregation walked: a stylish procession of men in morning coats and dark striped trousers and women in the most beautiful couture, silk heels and feathered fascinators.

  Allegra was in Chanel: a classic two-piece suit in hot pink, with a daringly short skirt that showed off her long legs. She wore Fendi heels in pale grey suede, with grosgrain ribbon trim, and carried a Marc Jacobs quilted shoulder purse in hot pink satin for a touch of rock and roll. Her hair was up in a loose pony-tail and she’d used an antique Victorian cameo brooch in black and white as a hair pin.

  Imogen had chosen a beautiful silk jersey dress by Temperley, its black flutter-cap sleeves and skirt offset by a white bodice in the same fabric, ruched around the breasts with a silken white flower in the middle, with a draped panel of white silk down the front. She wore it with a pair of Jimmy Choo slingbacks in champagne-pink satin and carried a white quilted Chanel bag.

  ‘My perfect accessory, of course, is a pushchair,’ she said brightly as she pushed Alex through the Mayfair streets in his apple-green Bugaboo. It was a beautiful spring day and the blossom was out.

  ‘It suits you wonderfully.’

  ‘Well, the nanny’s coming to take him away in an hour or so, and then I’ll be able to let my hair down. We’re going to Colette’s later, aren’t we?’

  Allegra nodded. ‘The party continues there after the reception.’

  ‘You will come, won’t you?’ Imogen said, giving her friend an anxious look.

  ‘Yes. It will be hard – but I’ll go.’

  The reception was small by the standards that might be expected of a rich and well-connected bride like Romily: two hundred people had come to see the happy couple wed and then toast them with glasses of the bride’s favourite vintage Bollinger.

  The wedding breakfast was elegant and delicious, the speeches all the more moving for the fact that the couple were marrying for the second time. Very few of the guests knew of Romily’s ordeal, but they could see how overwhelmed with joy she was, along with her family, who appeared delighted with their son-in-law.

  ‘I think Mitch has won the de Lisles over,’ Allegra murmured as she watched Athina de Lisle fawning over him.

  ‘Do you think it’s his incredible success as a businessman or his brave rescue of Romily that did it?’ Imogen asked with an ironic laugh.

  ‘Ooh, that’s a tough one. But, I must say, he looks pretty irresistible in that suit. Savile Row’s finest, Romily told me.’ Allegra gave Imogen a sideways look. ‘And Malik has scrubbed up pretty well too.’

  Imogen flushed and glanced away.

  ‘Just teasing. I bet he’s nervous about his best man’s speech. He’d better not make any jokes about Mitch’s underworld connections or he might be sleeping with the fishes by nightfall!’ Allegra laughed at her own joke.

  Imogen rolled her eyes. ‘Some things it’s better not to joke about. I’m sure there are a couple of distinctly Sopranos-style blokes hanging around.’ She let one of the waiting staff refill her glass with champagne. ‘And who is that funny-looking guy over there with the goatee?’

  ‘Oh, that’s Vincente, Romily’s one-time boyfriend. Bet he’s pissed off he’s lost her to Mitch.’

  Imogen laughed. ‘It’s a bit late now to put up a fight!’

  After the meal, the toasts and the speeches, most of the guests headed back to their own homes or hotels, or to fly off somewhere glamorous. A select forty went to Colette’s, to carry on celebrating in the most magical nightclub in the world.

  It was a strange feeling for Allegra as she went down the staircase into the place that was so familiar. She couldn’t help thinking of David almost constantly: his presence was still so strongly felt in the club. Mitch had kept it exactly as it had been, so David’s exquisite taste was still in evidence everywhere. The staff were delighted to see her, each one coming up to greet her and ask how she was. She was pleased to see that no one had been laid off and that they were all happy with the new management.

  ‘Some things have changed,’ Freda said frankly when Allegra went into the ladies to see her. ‘There are a lot more girls who are no better than they ought to be – teenage things from Russia and wherever. And some nights there are queues outside to get in! Can you imagine? Queues outside Colette’s, like some second-rate cocktail place. I’m no fan of the new music either. Too bumpy and spiky. They don’t play my favourite Sinatra numbers any more.’

  ‘I’m just glad you’re still here,’ Allegra said, giving her a hug. ‘I can’t imagine Colette’s without you.’

  When she came out of the ladies, she found Mitch waiting for her outside in the corridor.

  ‘Ah, Allegra, I’ve been looking for you. Would you mind coming with me, please?’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘Of course. It’s been a beautiful day, Mitch.’

  ‘It has, hasn’t it?’ He grinned at her. ‘This way.’

  He led her to the private dining room. Inside, a bottle of champagne was chilling on the table in a solid silver ice bucket. Romily and Imogen were already waiting there, Imogen looking as surprised as Allegra felt. Romily had changed from her wedding dress into a stunning Marchesa coffee-cream lace dress that set off her smooth brown shoulders beautifully.

  ‘Please, do sit down.’ Mitch gestured to the chairs. ‘This won’t take long, but I did want us all to be able to talk in private.’

  They took their places and waited for him to enlighten them. He reached into his jacket pocket and brought out a long, thick white envelope, put it on the table then slid it across in Allegra’s direction. ‘This is for you.’

  She stared at it, but didn’t touch it. ‘What is it?’

  Mitch looked a little shamefaced. Romily touched his arm, encouraging him to continue. He said gruffly, ‘I’m aware that mistakes have been made in the past. Misunderstandings led to things happening that maybe should not have happened. You lost your stake in these clubs through no fault of your own, and I want to show my appreciation for the help you offered me when things were tough. I also now know that your uncle’s state of mind contributed to his decision to sell. So I want to give back some of what was taken from you. I’d like to return a third share in the David McCorquodale Group to you.’

  Allegra stared at the envelope for a moment, then looked up at Mitch with a big smile. ‘That’s very kind of you, Mitch, but no.’

  ‘No?’ He looked astonished and glanced over at Romily.

  Her expression was concerned. ‘Why not?’ she asked.

  ‘I can’t take this as a gift. I just can’t.’ Allegra shook her head. ‘It wouldn’t be right, no matter how much both of us might want it. The only way I can consider this is if I buy it from you.’

  ‘Buy it?’ Mitch sounded dubious. They all knew that Allegra had been cut out of her uncle’s will. He’d left the bulk of his fortune – the proceeds from the sale of his clubs, plus his properties and furniture – in trust for baby Alex.

  ‘How can you do that?’ Imogen said. Alex’s money could not be touched, so they couldn’t possibly use it, no matter how tempting it was.

  Allegra looked at them each in turn and smiled. ‘Because David forgot to cut Xander out of his will. He left money to Xander’s estate and heirs. And Xander’s heir is … me.’ She laughed at the looks on all their faces. ‘He didn’t know he was going to have a baby or he would certainly have changed his will, but as it is, I don’t think Alex is going to miss it from his fortune. So I’d like to use that money
to buy back in.’ Her expression became serious. ‘With certain conditions, of course.’

  ‘What are those?’ Mitch said, raising his eyebrows.

  ‘I want a share of Oscar’s and Astor House only, and I want to control and run those two places myself – and have Imogen on my team as my in-house lawyer. If she wants to join me.’

  Imogen looked delighted. ‘You bet I want to! I wouldn’t miss it for anything!’

  ‘Sounds very reasonable.’ Mitch frowned. ‘But you don’t want a share of Colette’s?’

  Allegra shook her head. ‘No. It’s time to leave Colette’s. This was David’s baby, not mine, and I can’t imagine going on here without him. I’m prepared to let it go. After tonight, I don’t think I’ll ever come back here.’ She looked melancholy for a moment, then her eyes flashed. ‘But I want to put my heart and soul into the clubs I created. I know I can make them special.’

  ‘I believe you,’ Mitch said softly. ‘And I’d be crazy to pass up the chance to have your talent on board.’

  ‘Then perhaps,’ Romily said thoughtfully, ‘I will take on Colette’s. I think I would enjoy running this place.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ Mitch laughed and threw up his hands. ‘I’m gonna be overwhelmed by you three! But you know what? I might just like it.’ He reached for the champagne. ‘Do we have a deal? We’ll thrash out the details in due course, but I’m more than happy with the idea.’

  An expression of relief and happiness transformed Allegra’s face. ‘Are you sure?’ Mitch nodded. ‘That’s fantastic.’

  ‘I consider myself the lucky one,’ he said. ‘The more I’ve seen of what you’ve achieved with Oscar’s, the more talented I think you are. I’m delighted you’ll be joining me. I’ve got plenty of other ideas for where to use you as well.’

  ‘One step at a time,’ laughed Allegra.

  ‘One step at a time,’ Romily said, still looking radiant. ‘But together all the way.’

  Mitch popped the cork of the champagne, filled each flute with sparkling liquid, then they raised their glasses to each other.