Midnight Girls (72 page)

Allegra looked shame-faced. She ran her fingers through her blonde hair. ‘I should never have done that. But your mother rang me … said you’d been charmed by a hopeless gigolo who was only after your money. Of course, I knew you were madly in love but I let myself be persuaded that I was doing the right thing by taping our tea at the Ritz. And at the end of the conversation, I felt sure that I couldn’t really cause any trouble – you were so obviously utterly sincere in your love and you believed in Mitch completely. You convinced me.’ She looked at her friend beseechingly. ‘I had no idea what your parents would do to the recording. Imogen told me how they manipulated it. I’m sorry, Romily, I really am.’

Romily stared at her for a moment, then her eyes softened and she laughed. ‘You know, it’s so silly. Their plan backfired – Mitch and I grew stronger than ever. Perhaps we
wouldn’t
even be together now if it hadn’t been for that. So maybe I should thank you.’ She poured out the tea. ‘What is that saying? To understand all is to forgive all. It seems it’s true. Now we both know everything, we no longer need to hate each other. And … I’m sorry about Xander too.’

‘Thank you,’ Allegra said quietly.

The doorbell buzzed again and a few moments later the butler announced, ‘Miss Imogen Heath.’

Imogen came in, looking apprehensive, but when she saw the other two sitting by the window, she smiled, evidently relieved.

‘Romily!’ She ran over to her friend and threw her arms around her. ‘I’m so glad you’re safe. What a horrible, horrible ordeal you’ve been through.’

Romily hugged her back. ‘It wasn’t great,’ she admitted. As Imogen kissed Allegra hello and settled herself down, Romily poured her out some tea and said, ‘The strange thing is that now it’s happened, I feel wonderfully, marvellously free. All my life, this threat has been hanging over me, hemming me in, making me afraid. Now I feel as though I’ve faced it down, and it’s gone. Of course, I know it hasn’t completely. There’s no reason why someone won’t try again at some point – but now I’ve actually been there and come back, I know I can survive something like this. It’s made me feel very strong. And I’ve learnt how little actually matters in the world. Love, family and friends’ – she looked at the other two girls, smiling – ‘those are the only things you care about in the end, it turns out.’ She shot them a mischievous look as she helped herself from the cake-stand. ‘Along with Claridge’s apple scones, of course.’

‘So, everything is all right?’ Imogen said tentatively, looking between the two of them.

Allegra nodded. ‘Yes. Some old misunderstandings have been cleared up.’

‘That’s fantastic,’ Imogen declared, obviously relieved, and leant forward eagerly. ‘That’s made my appetite come right back. I’m afraid I have to claim this wonderful-looking éclair immediately.’

They talked on for two hours, just as they had when they were schoolgirls, chattering rapidly, flying from one subject to the next, catching up on all the news they had missed.

‘What’s happened to Adam, Allegra?’ Imogen asked, licking the cream from her fingers. ‘Do you know?’

She nodded. ‘He’s gone home to recuperate. I think we both need some time apart to think things over. But after that … who knows? I still think there’s a chance for us. I do love him, despite everything.’

Romily looked sombre. ‘I feel sorry for him. He lost his sister in those awful circumstances.’

‘In a way, that links us together. We’ve both suffered by Sophie’s death. And we both know what it’s like to lose a sibling in a stupid, wasteful way. We’ve both been through it.’ She gazed down at the table for a moment and then looked up again, her face strangely happy. ‘He brought me back to life, taught me how to love. I’ll always be grateful to him for that, no matter what.’

They were all quiet for a moment, remembering Sophie Harcourt. Those days were so far away they could finally look back and acknowledge all that had happened. It seemed far more serious and solemn now than it had at the time: that poor girl had died while they had gone on, to learn all about life and love and the world. Sophie had never had that chance.

Romily broke the gravity of the mood. ‘Imogen,’ she cried, ‘where is your little boy? I’m dying to meet him.’

‘He’s at home with the nanny. You must come and meet him soon.’

‘I’d love to,’ she replied warmly. ‘And if I don’t meet him before, then I hope you’ll bring him to the wedding.’

The other two looked at her questioningly. Romily laughed and held out her hand to display a large baguette white diamond with two yellow diamonds flanking it. ‘I’m getting married, next month, here in London. Mitch and I always thought we’d go crazy when we did it again, but after what’s happened we want a quiet affair, with just family and close friends. So I hope you’ll come.’

Imogen shot a glance at Allegra. Reconciling with Romily was one thing – but with Mitch? The man who’d stolen the things she cared most for in the world? Maybe that was too much to ask. But Allegra said in a heartfelt tone, ‘I’d love to come, Rom. Wouldn’t miss it.’

‘Can you imagine?’ she laughed. ‘Married twice before I’m thirty! I guess it’s not so bad if it’s to the same man.’ She turned to Imogen then. ‘How about you, Midge? I hope you’re coming to the wedding.’ She added in a naughty voice, ‘Malik mentioned he’d like to see you again. He’s going to be Mitch’s best man, by the way.’

Imogen blushed scarlet, then laughed. ‘I’d better find something extra special to wear then,’ she said.

‘I’ve got something you can borrow, if you like,’ Romily offered. ‘We’ll have a look through the wardrobe in a minute.’

‘We’re going to look at Romily’s clothes?’ Allegra cried. ‘Now I know everything’s back to how it was!’

They all looked at each other, laughing. The Midnight Girls were reunited at last.

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 passers-by 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 satin,’ 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.’