‘It’s just like someone’s home,’ exclaimed Allegra, looking about her.
‘Yes,’ David said simply. ‘My home. Come on, I’ll show you the dining room.’ The sitting rooms led into another vaulted chamber but this was opened out into one large room. Along the sides ran sage-green velvet banquettes with stiff square cushions in the same fabric. In front of them stood a row of tightly packed small tables, each covered with
a
thick cream linen tablecloth and dressed with napkins, wine glasses, silvery cutlery and a small square-based lamp with a square cream shade. The wood-panelled walls were hung with hundreds of cartoons from Hollywood’s golden age.
Several of the tables were occupied and David cast his eagle eye over each of them. Then he went to the maître d’, who stood so quietly and respectfully at the entrance to the room that Allegra hadn’t even noticed him, and whispered quietly in his ear. The maître d’ looked stricken but immediately summoned a waiter and conveyed David’s orders in a low voice.
‘David, hello!’ called someone from the nearest table. A businessman in a dark suit was waving and smiling broadly. ‘How are you?’
‘Hello, my dear,’ David said smoothly. ‘How wonderful that you’re here. How are you? Do you have everything you need?’ He went over and spent a few minutes talking to the businessman and his guest, and then went to all the other tables in turn to ask if they had what they wanted and how things were, before expertly disengaging himself and returning to Allegra’s side. Meanwhile, a waiter had arrived with fresh jug of water for one table while another refilled the wine glasses on a second.
‘I like it done just so,’ David muttered as he put an arm round her waist and guided her down the long room. ‘I can’t bear things not to be right. Now, there’s also a private dining room that seats thirty just over there behind that door. And over here is another small bar and more seating. And that, of course, is the dance floor.’
They were now standing at the far end of the club.
It seems to go on for a long way, but really it’s a very small space
, thought Allegra, glancing back towards the main part of the dining room. She turned to look at the dance floor once more
which
took up about a quarter of the dining room, with the DJ booth tucked in behind it. It was only about two metres by three and very dark, with a blue underlit floor flickering with hundreds of tiny star lights and more little lights shimmering in the ceiling above. More banquettes, this time in a black-and-white zebra print, were built into the wall so that tired dancers could rest for a moment before returning to the fray. Soft, innocuous melodies floated out of hidden speakers.
‘This will be heaving later,’ David said. ‘But it’s pretty much deserted early on. This discotheque bit was part of what made Colette’s so special when we first opened. All the other clubs had live bands playing the hits of the day, like some sad, countrified wedding reception. But we had two turntables and a DJ playing records seamlessly. That’s what brought the young crowd in. You wouldn’t believe who I’ve seen dancing in here: everyone from royalty to pop stars. I gave a party for the Rolling Stones in the seventies. People are still talking about it.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Or so I like to think. Shall we go and sit down? I don’t know about you but I’m famished.’
They went back into the main part of the dining room and David pulled out a chair at the table nearest to the door so that Allegra could sit down. ‘Hope you don’t mind if I take the banquette. It helps if I can see what’s going on. Lots of owners take the best table in the house, but I prefer to take the least best. There is no bad table, but somehow everyone seems to consider this to be it. So I make everyone’s life easier by taking it myself, and that seems to keep them all happy.’
A white-coated waiter appeared and handed them the menus: stiff cream card printed with dark green flowing script.
‘Now, let’s see. What do I feel like tonight?’ David said
critically
. ‘The wood pigeon is very good … but perhaps I’ll have the grouse. No, I shall ask Adrian to make up my favourite, a steak tartare. It’s not on the menu today but he keeps some beautiful fillet just for me.’
Allegra cast her eyes over it: it was a very English and very traditional menu, featuring potted shrimps and roast game and rich nursery puddings. ‘I’ll have the chicken,’ she said, noting that there were no prices on her menu.
‘Oh, Allegra, if we were anywhere else I’d be very cross. Chicken is always for the faint of heart. But, luckily, you are in Colette’s, where the chicken is spectacular. Adrian is under orders to make it so. Now, champagne, I think, if you’re finished with that ghastly spritzer thing.’
The service was so discreet that Allegra hardly noticed her food and drink arriving, but suddenly there it was in front of her and it was delicious: everything tasted wonderfully of itself, without too much tinkering and fancification. Meanwhile David talked on, about the club and how he had come to create it.
‘Just friends at first, and friends of friends. I had to raise rather a lot of money and naturally none of it was forthcoming from Papa. I’d burnt my boats there – so I got most of it from my rich pals, promising them founder membership of the place. I knew I had to make it three things: very expensive, very exclusive and very, very sexy. And it was – right from the start. It helped that the opening night was attended by Terence Stamp and Jean Shrimpton, two dukes and at least one royal princess, along with hundreds of others, and that the party went on until dawn.
‘The nights we had! The
jeunesse dorée
all came: beautiful young debs in mini-skirts, louche young aristocrats just down from university and looking for fun, models, actors, artists … I devoted myself to making sure that they would all have the best time possible – the best food and wine,
surrounded
by luxury. I planned endless parties: carnivals, festivals, themed weeks. All I insisted on was perfection – and that’s not so very much to ask, is it?
‘Colette’s quickly became my life and has stayed so ever since. I’m here every night, making sure that everything is as it should be. I also have my staff, who are all immensely loyal. I don’t much care for change. I like things to stay exactly the same, and so do the members. That’s why they keep coming back.’ David relaxed in his seat and smiled. ‘You know, the funny thing is – I only did it for the laughs. I never expected it to last. Even when we were the rage, the toast of the town, turning them away from the door, I always thought it would all blow over soon enough, and quieten down. But it never has.’
‘How many members are there now?’ asked Allegra, eating a wafer-thin slice of Scottish smoked salmon which had arrived with golden triangles of toast.
‘About five thousand.’ David smiled at her. ‘Such a relief they don’t all want to come at once!’
Allegra looked about her. The dining room was filling up a little more with dark-suited men and women in smart evening dresses. She hadn’t seen anyone of her own age yet. ‘It’s very formal, isn’t it?’
‘Of course it is, darling!’ Her uncle looked scandalised at the idea it could be anything else. ‘The rules are: jacket and tie for men, and absolutely no jeans or trainers. Anyone who’s inappropriately dressed is turned away, I don’t care who they are. No exceptions. Cocktail dresses for women – and if they arrive wearing furs, so much the better.’
Allegra laughed. Her empty plate disappeared, and a moment later her chicken arrived as her champagne was topped up. ‘It’s not much like the kind of club Miranda goes to,’ she said confidingly.
To her surprise, a look of hurt passed over David’s face.
‘Why
ever not?’ he demanded. ‘She’s very welcome to come. I like pretty women in here. She could bring lots of her friends, the ones she goes skiing with. I’ve noticed they all have very good legs.’
‘She’s down at those Chelsea places – you know, the kind with three dance floors, VIP areas, cocktails in goldfish bowls with a dozen straws, dry ice and dance music.’
David shuddered. ‘How grim. Why on earth does she like those places?’
Allegra didn’t know how to explain. Colette’s was beautiful, she could see that, but it wasn’t exactly hip and groovy. Most of the people she’d seen so far were in their forties and fifties, and the atmosphere, while expensive and luxurious, was sedate and calm. David had said the dance floor would be heaving later, but she hadn’t yet seen any signs of it. Still, in nightclub terms it was still early. ‘I suppose it’s just what young people like,’ she said at last.
‘Why wouldn’t young people like this?’ her uncle demanded, and waved his hand to indicate the dining room.
‘Perhaps it’s just a little too quiet for some,’ she said soothingly. ‘But I love it! I think it’s amazing.’
‘It’s not quiet,’ he said grumpily. ‘It’ll be simply throbbing later. You’ll see.’
Later, there were more people in the club, and a few younger ones at that, although Allegra was still struck by the lack of anyone like her own friends. The young people here looked just like the old ones in their dark suits and safe evening dresses. The DJ played the latest music, and a dozen figures bopped around the starlit floor, some more in control of their movements than others. Allegra was not tempted to join them. Instead, she enjoyed observing everything from the small bar where she and David sat and talked on. She told him all about what it had been like to be sent down, her
desire
to do something different, and her complete lack of ideas as to what that might be.
‘Do you want to do something serious?’ he asked. ‘Study law, or medicine, or go into banking?’
‘Not really.’ Allegra shook her head. ‘I know I’ve got talents, I’m just not sure what they are yet. And I don’t want to commit myself to anything that demands three years of study without knowing if it’s what I really want.’
‘Mmm.’ David sat back and stared at her. ‘Tell me what you think of Colette’s.’
She looked about. ‘I think it’s the most glamorous place I’ve ever been. I think it’s amazingly enduring – I can hear all the echoes of the good times that have been had here. It’s timeless and gorgeous.’
‘But …’ David raised an eyebrow. ‘I can hear what your undertone is. It’s not for you.’
‘On special occasions!’ she protested. ‘I can imagine having a wonderful birthday party here, or getting engaged, or something like that. But not for every night.’
‘I see. And Xander? Do you think he would come here?’
‘Oh … well …’ Allegra thought of Xander and James Barclay and Luca and all the other rich boys, with their drugs and their drinking and womanising. ‘Perhaps. But I don’t know if you would like having them very much.’
David seemed to think about this and then frowned. ‘You know what, Allegra, I have an idea. I think it’s rather brilliant myself. It’s this: you must come and work for me. You might wonder what on earth needs doing in a club that’s just a restaurant and bar, but you’d be surprised. It takes a lot of work and organisation to keep this going. And besides that, I’m considering a little bit of expansion. And I’m not stupid. I know this place will only survive if the fashionable young things want to come here. The original members are starting to fall off their perches. Plenty of people want to join, of
course
, that’s not the point. Too many of them are corporate types, only wanting to wine and dine clients in impressive surroundings. I need to keep the genuine spirit of Colette’s alive: the spirit of meeting friends, good times, love and laughter. And for that I need youth. I think you could help me to do that.’
Allegra stared at him, her mouth open.
‘Well?’ he prodded. ‘What do you think?’
She blinked at him. A whole new life had suddenly opened up in front of her, entirely unexpectedly. And yet, as soon as she imagined it, she knew that it was exactly what she wanted.
‘Oh my God! I think I’d like that. I think I’d like that very much.’
Chapter 34
Paris
Summer 2004
THE LAWYER WATCHED
the proceedings with interest. Emotions were flying high in the Paris boardroom, despite the efforts of all parties concerned to remain composed and businesslike.
The young man – and he was still very young, despite the expensive suit he was wearing – was evidently furious. His jawline was set, showing clenched teeth, and his fists were balled so angrily that his knuckles gleamed white through his tanned skin. His brown eyes were hard as flint despite their soft shade. He leapt up and strode to the window, gazing down unseeingly on the rue du Faubourg St Honoré below.
‘I think you’ll find that this is a very reasonable request,’ said the man sitting at the head of the table in an oversized green leather chair, designed to mark him out as the key figure in the room.
‘Reasonable?’ The younger man turned round, his face contorted with fury. ‘I don’t believe it! I can’t believe I actually came here to listen to this shit. You have completely misunderstood me, sir.’
‘Perhaps I have,’ replied the other man smoothly. He ran a slender white hand over the polished mahogany of the boardroom table. The suited men around the table watched
with
silent deference, their Mont Blanc pens poised over their notepads, keeping track of proceedings.
I don’t think this enterprise can succeed
, the lawyer thought.
The young man is passionate, that is obvious. He is in love. Why would he listen to this? It’s madness
.
‘You certainly have.’ The young man looked almost as puzzled as he was angry. ‘You must think I’m so dumb. Do you really think I’m going to keep quiet and do what you ask? Do you honestly believe you can buy me off?’
The older man shrugged, a sardonic smile on his face. ‘I simply wish us to find the easiest way out of this mess. You cannot blame me for beginning in the most straightforward way.’
‘I’m afraid we disagree fundamentally. You see a mess where I do not.’
‘From your point of view, I can easily see how this might be termed a success.’
‘Ah!’ The young man screwed up his face in frustration, obviously keeping his temper with difficulty and biting his tongue. Then he said, ‘There you go again. You totally misunderstand me but, OK, I too can see why. You’ve spent her entire life protecting your daughter, probably fearing that she’s the target of fortune hunters. Now it looks like your worst nightmare has come true. Some gigolo has come along, seduced her, convinced her he loves her and married her under your nose. He’s stolen your precious prize purely because he wants to get his greedy, grasping hands on your family’s money.’ He gazed at the other man imploringly. ‘But, sir, it’s not like that at all. I had no idea who your daughter was when I fell in love with her.’