Midnight Girls (51 page)

David frowned, not wanting to concede the point, then he said, ‘Perhaps. But it’s subtle. They’re not getting out their flipcharts and black pens and giving a bloody lecture.’

Allegra sat down on one of the Regency spoon-backed dining chairs. Like every room in David’s Knightsbridge house, this one reflected the same taste that gave Colette’s its country-house chic: a muted Colefax & Fowler striped wallpaper covered with good pictures, prints and etchings; solid furniture, mostly Queen Anne or Georgian; lots of lamps and flowers. The whole house was done in the same perfectionist style, right down to the custom-built circular wardrobe that revolved so David could move effortlessly from his silk and linen summer suits to his tweed and wool
winter
ones. His handmade shoes were stored in polished mahogany lockers, a pigeon hole for each pair, sorted by style.

Allegra stared at the architect’s drawings and sighed. This was going to be a very difficult task, she could see that. David was determined to thwart her at every step, or at least make her life very hard.
Is it just me or has he got worse lately?
she wondered.

‘We’ve said that Colette’s itself will remain the same,’ she reminded her uncle, ‘but that the new club would be aimed specifically at a market we’re not reaching at present. The children and grandchildren of our members don’t come to the club. They will in time, particularly if they’re already members of the new club, but we need to offer them what they want in this day and age: casual restaurants as well as more formal ones. Colette’s is a true nightclub – it opens at eight and closes at three. But in the new place, we’ll open at seven in the morning and offer much, much more. A gym in the basement, so people can exercise before work. Breakfast and lunch – food all day long, whenever it’s wanted. Access to rooms where members can work, hold meetings, entertain, whatever they need. Bedrooms for people who want to stay over. Wifi and internet access, of course, and the private cinema. It’s got to appeal to young people. That’s the kind of place they want, I promise.’

‘It all sounds rather …’ David wrinkled his nose ‘…
vulgar
. Bedrooms? It’ll be a knocking shop.’

‘Oh, David. The world can’t stand still.’

‘I’m well aware of that, darling.’ He coughed, the spasms getting stronger until he gestured for a glass of water, which Allegra passed him. When he’d recovered, he said, ‘If I could have stopped the whole thing in 1975, I probably would have. Life was much nicer then.’

‘For some people,’ she said with a laugh. ‘It’s much better for most people now.’

‘Mmm. Women have more rights, I believe,’ he said vaguely, ‘which I suppose they enjoy.’

Allegra laughed again. ‘You’re a wicked old tease. You know perfectly well what’s going on, and you also know perfectly well that it’s a very good idea to expand. You’ll let me do what I want in the end, I know you will. But, gosh, you’re making me fight for it!’

‘I had to fight to create Colette’s,’ he said, waving a finger at her. ‘No doubt it all seems like a sure thing to you now, but it wasn’t at the time. I had to beg for backing. No reason why you shouldn’t have to prove yourself like I did, and convince me with your passion. How much is all this going to cost?’

‘Well, first the freehold of the house. It’s in Soho.’

‘What?’ David looked scandalised. ‘Among all the pimps and prostitutes? It’s full of red-light dives and topless bars!’

‘You know very well it’s not like that any more. Just because it’s out of your beloved Mayfair … Soho is very smart now, as I’m sure you’re aware.’

‘Hmmm, I suppose I have to believe you. So – how much?’

‘The house will cost several million. Then there’s the development cost – at least several million more. If the house is listed or has any protection orders, costs will rise, of course. I think we need to budget at twenty-five million with another seven for contingency.’

David leaned back, patting Caius on the head again as he often did when he needed to feel calmer. ‘That’s a lot of money, Allegra. Do you have profit forecasts for how we’ll make this all back?’

‘Of course.’ She smiled at him, trying to convey how important this was to her. It was so obviously the right thing to do.

‘Good. I shall need to be convinced – wholly convinced – before I allow that kind of investment. We’ll be very exposed if anything goes wrong.’

‘Trust me, David. It’s absolutely the right thing to do.’

Allegra came out on to the busy Knightsbridge streets, full of their usual odd mixture of rich residents and trainer-and-backpack-wearing tourists, and sighed deeply to release the frustration she was feeling.

She stood for a moment, looking down the road towards Harrods with its long frontage and dark green awnings. Then she pulled her mobile phone out of her bag and dialled a number on her contacts list.

‘Hello, is that Adam Hutton …? Hi, Adam. It’s Allegra McCorquodale. I was wondering if we could meet.’

An hour later she was walking into a Mayfair pub. Inside it was far removed from the traditional old public house with bare floors and scrubbed wooden tables and chairs. Although the pine floorboards were original, they still seemed modern and attractive. The room was a tasteful fusion of old and new, with expensive touches.

‘Hi, it’s great to see you.’ Adam greeted her with a kiss on her cheek and held out a chair for her. He was looking casual but groomed in a Gucci linen suit and open-necked shirt. ‘I hope you don’t mind us roughing it here. It’s not quite Colette’s, I’m afraid.’

‘Of course I don’t mind.’ Allegra was glad she was dressed fairly casually in her Seven For All Mankind jeans, a Daphne Guinness white shirt from Comme des Garçons and her favourite Tod’s loafers. She put her tan leather Mulberry Bayswater on the chair next to her. ‘I’m not always in cocktail dresses and quaffing champagne, you know. I do exist outside Colette’s.’

‘I know.’ Adam raised his eyebrows and shot her an intense look.

She flushed but maintained her cool.
I don’t want to think about that
. As far as she was concerned, Adam was now part of her business life. The other side of her existence – the secret nights with strangers, the little stash of drugs in her locked drawer – was none of his concern. She didn’t care if he was handsome – and every time she saw him, she was impressed again by his fine-boned features and broad, slim frame. She liked that soft reddish-brown hair, almost fox-coloured, and the faint dusting of freckles over his nose … Mentally she shook herself.
Stop it. Business, that’s all
.

Adam went on smoothly, ‘I thought you might like to see this place. You’ll notice it looks quite ordinary – pleasant enough but ordinary. The prices aren’t ordinary, though. I know there’s such a thing as Mayfair prices but here it’s twenty-five quid for a plate of shepherd’s pie.’

‘Is that expensive?’ asked Allegra, frowning.

He laughed. ‘You’ve been spending too much time in Colette’s. Yes, it is expensive, for a pub lunch. Maybe if it was cooked by a Michelin-starred chef it would be reasonable. But it isn’t.’

‘So?’

He leant towards her and lowered his voice. ‘This place was just a normal pub, and a pretty empty one at that, until one day a fancy Hollywood film actor and his mate decided to buy it and have a bit of fun owning their own place. They stripped out the interior, gave it an overhaul, and started hanging out here with their celebrity mates. They were papped coming out at two in the morning after a lock-in. They held their birthday parties here. The place became associated with them, and started drawing in the crowds. Young kids wanted to come here and happily spent far too much on basic pub grub because, that way, they were kind
of
cool, like the owner. They started a little members club upstairs so that their VIP pals wouldn’t be bothered by the plebs while they were enjoying a pint and talking about their latest films.’

‘That’s clever,’ Allegra said, interested. ‘So they turned a basic pub into a desirable restaurant?’

‘And made a mint.’ Adam’s brown eyes glinted as he smiled at her.

The waitress came up to take their order.

‘The shepherd’s pie, please.’ Allegra shot a look at Adam. ‘And some water. Thanks.’

‘Sounds good. I’ll have the same – but make my water a bottle of Beck’s, please.’ Adam handed the menu back to the waitress. When she’d gone, he leant back in his chair and said to her, ‘Have you heard of someone called Theodore Mitchell?’

Allegra frowned and shook her head. ‘Should I have?’

‘I’m not altogether sure. I’m keeping my eye on him. He’s an American businessman who’s suddenly appeared and is buying up some of the best and most exclusive bars, clubs and restaurants in London. Just recently he’s made some big purchases and it seems that his pockets are deep. He’s just acquired the Belgrave Group, and that means he’s now got five Michelin-starred restaurants in his portfolio, including La Joie, Alfred’s and Numo, that Japanese place all the stars go to.’

‘Oh.’ Allegra raised her eyebrows. ‘Should I be interested in all this?’

‘I don’t know.’ Adam leant closer confidingly and she caught the tang of a citrussy cologne. ‘The rumour is he’s just in the process of buying this joint off the film-star owner. Seems he’s looking away from straight restaurants and more towards the new hybrid club/restaurant. He doesn’t seem keen on the clubs that are all about drinking
and
the youth market – places like Boujis. The profile is more sophisticated.’

‘And …?’

‘And Colette’s fits the bill. In fact, it’s precisely the kind of place he’d be very, very attracted to.’

‘Well, if he is, he hasn’t got a hope,’ she said vehemently. ‘David will never sell, I’m completely sure of it. Colette’s is precious to him. He’d rather die than see some American take it over.’

Adam laughed. ‘I see. Well, as David’s company is privately owned, I guess he’s the one who makes the decisions.’ He glanced over at Allegra, as if waiting for her to add anything to this, but she said nothing. He continued, ‘Now … to what do I owe the pleasure of this invitation to meet you?’

Over the pricy but admittedly delicious shepherd’s pie, she told him about her plans for the new club. ‘It’s going to plug all the gaps,’ she said, ‘and get the young people in. I listened to what you said, and you were right. Our membership is mature. But there’s no point in trying to change Colette’s to bring in young people. We’d simply destroy the magic and lose the members we do have, who pay us so handsomely to come to us. And could I reproduce the Colette’s ambiance in another building? I don’t know. Its underground intimacy is so integral to it. But what I can do is take the ethos behind Colette’s – comfort, luxury, perfect service – and make it the driving force behind a new venture. We’ll reel in members in their twenties, and when they’ve had enough of the new place, and want a bit more pampering and can afford our food and drink, they’ll move on to Colette’s.’

Adam put down his fork and smiled at her. ‘That’s brilliant. I think you’re doing absolutely the right thing.’

‘You do?’

‘Yep. It’s exciting. It meets a need. There’s nothing else like it in the market. There are clubs that are media hang outs and clubs that are dance venues. You’ll be combining the two plus adding the kind of luxurious extras that will make the place a real home from home: the gym, the members’ bedrooms, the breakfast opening … It’s inspired.’

She felt a surge of pleasure at his praise. Adam was the first person she’d ever shared her business ideas with. It had taken a while before she’d had the confidence to trust in herself. Had she learned enough at Colette’s to make a whole new venture work? Adam’s response seemed to show she had – and his opinion was surely worth something. According to his company website, he’d worked with some of the best in the industry.

He pushed away his empty plate and said, ‘But why are you sharing all this with me now? I got the impression last time we met you didn’t see the point of me, to be blunt.’

Allegra put down her fork. ‘I’ll come straight to the point. I want you to help me. My uncle is the driving force behind Colette’s and the man with the money. But he’s finding it hard to share my vision and think outside what he already does. I don’t want to take on a project like this alone because I don’t know the market as well as you may expect. My years in Colette’s have blinkered my vision somewhat. I don’t find paying forty or even fifty pounds for a main course unusual any more. I don’t blink at bottles of wine costing five thousand. I need someone who’s got a foot in the real world. And I think that could be you.’

Adam looked pleased. ‘That’s interesting,’ he said at last. ‘Very interesting. The truth is I’m pretty busy right now – I’ve got quite a lot of projects on. I’m working with a bunch of guys who are creating an elite concierge service and it’s absolutely massive.’

‘Oh! But …’ She couldn’t conceal her disappointment.
She’d
expected Adam to accept immediately and with alacrity, considering he’d come to her in the first instance.

He burst out laughing. ‘Don’t look so miserable! I’m flattered you’re so keen to involve me and I wouldn’t miss out on this for the world. I’m in. And after lunch we can go back to my offices and discuss terms, if you like. No harm in getting started right away.’

Chapter 45

London
January 2009

IMOGEN LOOKED UP
from the legal document she was checking and stared out at the offices and skyscrapers of London, standing grey against an even greyer sky. It might be miserable and wintry outside but she was elated to be back in the groove, back in London, back at her job and partying again.

She’d spent a lazy Christmas in Scotland, eating far too much, sleeping as many hours as she could, and generally recovering from her very demanding life at Guthrie & Walsh. Her parents had spoiled her, delighted to have her back home with them again, and she’d barely stirred out of the front door. It had been lovely being looked after: all her meals cooked, her laundry done, her bed made … Even her New Year’s Eve had been cosily middle-aged, sitting with her parents in front of the television and toasting in the year with a wee dram.