Lovers in Their Fashion (5 page)

Chapter 8

M
errill nursed Alice as though she were an invalid. She scrambled eggs and served them on the terrace with salad and toasted sourdough bread. Alice was allowed a single glass of wine. Gradually, she stopped shivering and regained a level of calm.

‘Do you think you might owe me an explanation?’ asked Merrill.

So Alice told her. About her mother’s spendthrift ways and her carelessness of the law in funding them. Of how Planer had collected the evidence against her. And how he had seized on the fact that Alice, the thief’s daughter, worked for a competitor company.

‘Thief’s daughter,’ Alice repeated. ‘It doesn’t sound very nice, does it?’

‘Are your parents poor?’ asked Merrill.

Alice shook her head. Dad had a good job. He has a very adequate pension. My mother…I sometimes think she must be ill.’

‘Ill?’

‘She has to have things. Whatever anyone else has, she has to have at least the same. Preferably better. And she doesn’t distinguish between her own property and other people’s.’

‘So let me get this clear. Planer came to you and showed you that your mother had been stealing from his company.’

‘That’s right.’

‘And he said he was going to prosecute, and she’d go to jail.’

‘Yup.’

‘But you worked for Fairmount, and Fairmount had something Planer wanted.’

‘Information. It wasn’t a product or a design secret or anything. He wanted to know who we sold to, how much we sold them and what we charged.’

‘So he could compete. Unfairly.’

‘Yes.’

‘And you got him this information.’

‘I didn’t think I had any choice. But it was from John, you see. If I hadn’t been in a relationship with John, I couldn’t have done it. I wouldn’t have had access. I took the information right out of his briefcase while he was sleeping.’ Alice shuddered as she remembered the terror she had felt that John would wake and catch her red-handed.

‘And that’s why you felt you couldn’t stay with John?’

‘I’d betrayed him. Don’t you see? It was his sales that fell after Planer got the information he wanted. They fell a lot. He could have lost his job.’

‘So you did that to save your mother. You gave up the man you loved and you gave up your self-respect to stop your mother going to jail. But it didn’t stop her spending more than she had.’

‘No. It didn’t.’

‘How much have you shelled out?’

‘Over the years? I don’t know. A lot of money.’

‘And have you ever confronted her? Does she know that
you
know she stole money from Planer?’

‘How do you say something like that to your mother?’

‘Well, Alice, I can’t advise you about that. She’s your mother and you’ve got to decide what you’re going to do about her. But you’ve made a bad enemy in Martin Planer.’

‘I’ve
made an enemy?’ Alice laughed. ‘Was it me that threw his clothes into the Thames? If it had been down to you, he’d have walked home in his boxers.’

‘Serve him right,’ said Merrill. ‘Watch out for him, though.’

‘I will. Any other advice you want to offer me, auntie?’

‘Yes.’ Merrill’s expression was very decided. ‘Yes, there is. It’s choice time, Alice. You need a man in your life. I didn’t say you need a husband,’ she went on as Alice opened her mouth to object. ‘I said you need a man. Someone to have the kind of fun with that you can’t have with a girl-friend. Someone you like having around, even if it’s in the background. You don’t have to see him every day.’

Alice thought back to what John had said was missing from his life. ‘Someone to hang out with,’ she said.

‘That’s exactly right. And I need one, too. So I’m going to go out and find one. And you’re coming with me. Unless you want to do the sensible thing. Get in touch with John Pagan and tell him how you feel about him.’

Alice shook her head. ‘I can’t do that.’

‘I think you could. But I accept that you won’t. So we go the other way, Alice. I’m in the mood to find a guy for me. And we’re damn well going to find one for you at the same time.’

T
hat evening in New York, John Pagan was once again alone. He sat on the terrace overlooking Central Park, nursing a sparkling mineral water and enjoying his solitude.

There was no doubt about it; being alone could be very attractive, especially in the sort of surroundings that John usually found himself in. He had enjoyed his interlude with Cathy. There had been others before her and there would no doubt be more in the future. He was aware, though, that he chose carefully from the offers that came his way. He did what he could to make sure they were single, because breaking up homes was not on his list of things to do. Beyond that, he picked out only those who wanted what he wanted – enjoyment in the here and now, with no ties and no commitment.

Did he want to spend his whole life alone? No, he thought, he probably did not. The idea of having someone permanently in his life – someone to live with, perhaps someone to have children by – was one that came to him with increasing frequency. But there was a problem. Every time he had that idea, the face that came into his dreams was a face he knew. Alice’s face. Was he never to be able to move on?

And so he kept to his wandering life, traveling from country to country in the interests of his company. As long as he had no settled home, he was not at risk of seeing the same woman long enough to feel the need to share his life. After he and Alice had split he had sold his place in London and bought a small townhouse in the Lanes area of Brighton. He liked it, but mostly as a jumping-off spot for his travels. Handy for Gatwick and not too far from Heathrow, with a good train service to London when he had to be at Head Office and a traveling bag always ready for the next departure. The company had tried several times to get him to accept promotion to a director’s job in London, and he had always refused.

And now, it seemed, he could be approaching a crossroads. Not long after he had said goodbye to Cathy, the phone in his room had rung. Tony Frejus was a colleague from the London office; but he was more than that. He was an old friend. They had met in Bolivia, where Tony was a locally employed manager. When it became clear that the weakness of the bolivar made it necessary to scale down their operations there, John had passed Tony’s name to Head Office as a good man. Strings had been pulled, a work permit obtained, and Tony had come to London. In another year he would have been there long enough to become a British citizen. Like John he lived in Brighton, which he appreciated for its raffish and somewhat bohemian atmosphere.

This, though, was not just a friendly call.

‘McGarrick is retiring,’ Tony had said.

‘He’s been threatening that for years.’

‘This time it’s really going to happen. His wife is ill, and he wants to spend time with her before it’s too late.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ John had meant it – he liked Tom McGarrick and had always found Rhoda’s company enjoyable at office functions.

‘They need a replacement.’

‘Yes, I guess they would.’

‘The Chairman’s coming to Rio next week,’ Tony had continued. ‘Ostensibly it’s a routine visit. Check out the operation, meet the troops, shake hands with the appropriate ministers.’

‘And below the surface?’

‘Charles has decided that you’re the man for the job. He’s going to ask you to take it. And he’s going to be very persuasive.’

John had remained silent as he digested the implications.

‘It’s a heck of an offer,’ Tony had said. ‘Take over from McGarrick, your next move would be Chief Exec. And if you
don’t
take it…’

‘It won’t be offered again,’ John had finished his sentence for him.

‘Worse than that. If you don’t take McGarrick’s job, they’ll offer it to Roger Neal. He doesn’t like you, and he doesn’t like me. I can’t see either of us lasting very long with Roger in charge.’ He did not add that, if it came before his qualification period was up, Neal’s appointment could cost him not just his job but also his right to remain in Britain and his citizenship – but John knew it, whether it was said or not.

John drank the last of his water and stood up. He would take his dinner in the hotel restaurant. There was going to be a lot to think about while he ate.

Chapter 9

A
lice never enjoyed receiving calls from her mother, and she enjoyed this one even less than usual. It had only got through because neither David nor Marissa, Alice’s PA, was at their desk.

‘What on earth have you done?’ The voice seethed with fury.

‘Hello, mother,’ Alice said. ‘Nice to speak to you, too.’

‘Don’t be clever with me, my girl. You’d be nothing without my care. Nothing. And you do this to me.’

‘Do what, mother?’

‘Martin Planer sent me home from work today. He says I’m suspended.’

‘And what has that to do with me?’

‘There’s some trumped up story that I’ve taken money from the company.’

Alice took a deep breath. Had she ever confronted her mother, Merrill had wanted to know? There was another question Merrill could have asked, but hadn’t. Was Alice prepared to go on “helping out” her mother without making it clear she knew the truth? Whether Merrill had asked it or not, this was a question Alice had faced up to in the hours since Planer had come so close to tearing off her clothes. She had decided she knew the answer. That didn’t make it any easier to put into practice.

‘Mother,’ she said. ‘If the story is trumped up, you’ve nothing to worry about. Have you?’

There was silence from the other end of the phone line. Alice decided there would never be a better moment to end years of denial. ‘Thanks to you, mother,’ she said, ‘Martin Planer came very close to raping me last night.’

Another silence. Then her mother said, ‘Really, Alice. Rape! What a ridiculous flight of imagination. Is this how you made your career? Embroidery and fantasy?’

‘Mother…’ Alice attempted to break in, but her mother was in full flow.

‘No wonder you’re still single, Alice, if you react to the natural inclinations of a red-blooded man by crying rape!’

‘I suppose you think I should have lain back and thought of England?’

‘It could have been the making of you. You need a man, Alice.’

‘Do I? Well, it won’t be Martin Planer.’ Alice found herself shrieking. ‘Your own daughter is physically assaulted! And you tell her it’s what she needs? Are you completely insane?’

‘Now you listen to me, my girl. It is because of Martin that I am making this call. He has made this very clear. He expects you to give him what he wants.’

Alice’s heart beat so fast she felt she might faint. ‘Are we talking money here, mother?’

‘Money, yes. But first he wants the other thing. The physical thing.’

‘Mother. You can not be serious.’

‘He wants you to know this, Alice. He will book a suite in the best hotel you can think of. Anywhere in the world. You can choose. But unless you and he have spent a weekend together, as man and wife, with all that entails…’

‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You’re pimping your own daughter.’

‘…unless you have done that before this month is out, he will hand me over to the police.’

‘I thought you said the story was trumped up?’

‘I will go to jail, Alice. And if you won’t overcome your ridiculous scruples for my sake, then think of the effect on your father. You could kill him, Alice. And all for the sake of a harmless romp in the hay.’

The phone went dead. Slowly, Alice placed the handset back in the cradle. She was shaking like a leaf. David, who had been lurking outside her office during the latter part of the conversation, put his head round the door.

‘Alice? I say, are you all right?’

Alice shook her head.

‘Is there anything I can do?’

Alice stared over his shoulder. After a long pause she said, ‘No, David. There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing anyone can do.’

A
s always, Alice changed her clothes when she returned to the penthouse that evening. A dislike for the constriction of tights was something she shared unknowingly with Cathy. At this time of year bare legs were fine, and she never felt more comfortable than when in one of her collection of loose cotton skirts. It was, of course, impossible that anyone in her business could go to the office dressed like that, but she made up for it in her own time.

The phone call this evening was somewhat more agreeable than the one from her mother though it, too, produced its own frisson.

‘We’re going to a party,’ Merrill said. ‘When? On Saturday. Where? In Brighton. Who with? Friends of mine. I am assured that highly available men of a calibre to satisfy the most demanding temptress will throng the event.’ Merrill became aware of the lack of response. ‘Alice? Say “Good”, at least.’

Alice shook herself. ‘I’m sorry, Merrill. Yes, that’s great. Tell me all about it.’

‘I will,’ said Merrill. ‘But not on the phone. I have a bottle of
Veuve Clicquot
on ice, and a Thai meal for two on its way. The real thing, not that phony supermarket rubbish. Put whatever you were going to eat back in the fridge or into the garbage disposal. Get into the elevator. I shall open my door in precisely one hundred and eighty seconds and I shall expect to see you there when I do. And you will kindly be agog, and hanging on my every word.’

‘I’m agog,’ said Alice.

‘And hanging on my every word?’

‘Utterly suspended.’

‘Then you may enter.’

Alice took a seat and accepted the flute of nicely chilled champagne Merrill held out to her. ‘So,’ she said. ‘A party. Tell all.’

Merrill folded her legs under herself and sipped from her own glass. ‘Bernice Hutchins,’ she said. ’American, like me, and I’ve known her for ever. Her husband’s a big wheel in financial services here. They have the most enormous apartment in Brighton and they’re throwing a party. It’s a networking event, really, for Ed to press the flesh and say thank you for past favours. Wheelers and dealers, movers and shakers, and many of them single. You’re bound to know people there.’

Alice nodded. Even if the evening produced no fanciable man for her – and she expected no success on that front – the opportunity to network with captains of industry was one she had learned to accept when possible. You never knew when a contact would become useful.

‘I’ve booked us two rooms for the night,’ Merrill went on. ‘Though I have to tell you I hope we’ll be using them only for changing in and not for sleeping. Unless it’s with a man, of course, in which case who’ll be sleeping?’ She laughed her infectious laugh. ‘I chose the hotel because it’s near Bernice’s flat, it has king size beds and it’s famous for its discretion. You know what Brighton’s like.’

‘Not really,’ Alice said.

‘You British,’ Merrill sighed. ‘You have so much history you don’t appreciate it. The Prince Regent, my dear. The Royal Pavilion. Brighton Pier. The Lanes. The Races. Brighton Rock.’

‘I see. And we’ll be taking all of this in, will we?’

‘Us? Are you mad? This is merely the backdrop to our conquest of two of the most eligible men on the planet.’

‘You know who they are?’

‘Not by name, no. But they’ll be there. And they’ll be totally unable to resist us.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ smiled Alice, and did not add, “But I may well be able to resist them.”

N
ext morning was a full one for Alice, with visits from two internationally known models and a conference with the events company that was organizing the first showing of Marco Antonetti’s sensational designs. Models and organizers alike expressed an almost petulant dissatisfaction at not being allowed actually to see the clothes they were respectively to wear and to display, but Alice was adamant. Enormous commercial advantage hung on maintaining total secrecy until the actual morning of the show.

All the activity in the world, however, could not have prevented her thoughts from straying to Brighton and that weekend’s party. Perhaps Merrill was right. Maybe it really was time to move on; time to try to fill the hole in her life. She was increasingly conscious of that gap. Sadly, she was also aware that it was a hole with a very particular shape and she feared that only one man alive could fill it.

There was also an intrusion of a less welcome kind. Just before lunchtime, a motorcycle courier arrived with a package that, he said, could be delivered only to her. Bike deliveries were commonplace at House of Pharaoh; in a business as fast-moving as high fashion they are often the only way to move with anything like the necessary speed the samples and confidential documents that cannot be entrusted to fax or email. This one, though, was far from welcome to its recipient.

David laughed aloud as Alice unwrapped a basque in peach coloured lace with black silk inserts and tiny matching panties. ‘Who on earth imagines House of Pharaoh would handle something like that?’

Alice’s heart hammered against her ribs as she pushed the garments back into the tissue paper with the black lace stockings she had not opened. ‘I have no idea.’

‘There’s a note,’ David said.

‘We’ll ignore it, shall we?’

‘Sure. Do you want me to get rid of it?’

Alice dropped the package into the waste paper bin beside her. ‘Perhaps the cleaner would like it,’ she said.

David left the office early to see Katie in a school play. Feeling almost physically sick, Alice scooped the package out of the bin and slipped it into her briefcase. She left immediately for home.

Once there, she examined the basque, panties and stockings. They must have cost a lot of money. Oh, that so much could be wasted on such appalling taste! She unfolded the note.

‘Dear Alice. Today is the fifteenth. The first of next month falls on a Tuesday. The Friday before, you and I will have set off on our weekend of pleasure. I should like you to be wearing something tasteful and demure. Beneath it, these. Yours in anticipation.’

The note was not signed. It did not need to be. A few minutes later, the phone rang. She picked it up in trembling hands.

‘Do you like my present?’

‘I think it’s vile.’

‘Our tastes differ. Have you chosen a venue?’

‘I’d rather die.’

‘Knowing that is part of the pleasure. But do not imagine that I am bluffing.’

‘I’ll pay whatever my mother has stolen.’

‘That won’t be enough, I’m afraid. I intend to have you, Alice. All of you. And you may as well know that I do not intend to be gentle.’

There was a click as Planer hung up the phone. Alice ran to the bathroom and tried to be sick, but nothing came.

It was only later that the question occurred to her. Planer had rung within minutes of her return home. How had he known she was there? She put her shoes on and hurried to the elevator. Moments later she was running out onto the street. She looked hard in each direction. If Planer had been there, he wasn’t there now.