Prima Donna (30 page)

‘Holy cow!’ he spluttered at the sight of Pia on crutches. She was standing in profile to them, the leg warmers acting like beacons, pointing all the way up her long legs to her very
visible and very peachy tutu-topped arse. ‘Who the hell is
she
?’

‘She’s Brazilian,’ Tanner said darkly, as though that explained everything.

It actually did to Jonty. He’d spent his gap year travelling around South America and had quickly got a handle on Ipanema beach culture. Forget boobs. It was all about the booty down
there.

Jonty narrowed his eyes and peered at Pia more closely. ‘Oh Jesus – don’t tell me that’s Pia Soto,’ he breathed.

Tanner stared at him. ‘How d’you know that?’

Jonty laughed, his palms outstretched. ‘Mate! Pia Soto! She’s a fox! Oh God, please don’t tell me you didn’t see her in that Victoria’s Secret ad?’

Of course he hadn’t. But then he didn’t need to have seen that to know what Jonty was talking about. The memory of her curves as she lay by the side of the lake flashed through his
mind. He hadn’t looked. It hadn’t been appropriate. It hadn’t been anything
approaching
appropriate to look, and yet the spectre of them had burnt into his peripheral
vision and twice now when he’d been with Violet – his hands on her, his eyes closed – his mind had wandered back there.

Not that that meant a thing. It was just lust. Cold male lust. He may as well have seen her in
Playboy
. He didn’t give a damn about the fact that he was objectifying her. In fact
he liked it. He despised her. He despised her sort – rude to everyone she met, too bloody spoilt to even thank a man for saving her life.

‘I’m going out there,’ Jonty said, laughing delightedly as he grabbed a coat from the back of the door.

‘No don’t. She’s with Silk.’

‘So? She could be with the sodding Godfather and I’d still go out there,’ he said, winking cheekily.

‘Could I remind you that you’re –’ the door slammed shut – ‘married,’ Tanner said quietly.

Jonty strode across the yard, running his hand through his hair. Yes, he knew perfectly well he was married. He wasn’t planning to pull her, for God’s sake. But come on – Pia
Soto! In his yard! In a tutu! He had to be his fourteen-year-old self, dreaming!

‘Hi,’ he boomed, holding a hand out welcomingly. ‘I’m Jonty, Tanner’s brother.’

Pia looked at him, ignoring his hand. ‘You say that like it’s a good thing.’

Jonty grinned. Feisty too. She just got better and better.

‘You here to ride?’ he asked stupidly, even though it was blindingly obvious she couldn’t. ‘Course not,’ he grinned, slapping his forehead with his palm.
‘Where’s Will?’

Will was on the mounting block, across the yard. He swung himself easily into the saddle and came over. Pia reached up to Matchstick and tickled his nose affectionately. The horse whickered
happily and nuzzled his head down into her body. Pia smiled and put her arm around him.

‘I didn’t know you like horses,’ Will said, amazed.

‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me,’ Pia replied mysteriously.

‘Hi, Will,’ Jonty said easily. Just because his brother had decided to make an enemy of him it didn’t mean he had to. ‘Long time no see.’

The two men shook hands. Jonty didn’t need to reach far, he was so tall.

‘It has been,’ Will replied warily. ‘Still at Law School?’

‘Yeah. Final year now. How’re things with you?’

‘Well, you’ve probably heard . . .’ He indicated towards the farmhouse. Tanner stepped back from the window.

‘Yeah, a bit,’ Jonty said. He changed the subject. ‘So where’re you off to?’

‘I thought I’d take him down to the dyke and over the straights,’ he said, slapping Matchstick on the neck. ‘I need to clear my head a bit.’

‘Well, what are you going to do while he’s riding?’ Jonty asked Pia.

‘I’ll sit in the car.’

‘Nonsense,’ he said. ‘It’s freezing out here. Come into the kitchen and keep warm while you wait. That’s all right, isn’t it?’ he asked Will.

‘Where’s Tanner?’ Will asked suspiciously.

‘Dunno. I heard the front door slam. He’s gone somewhere in a hurry. He’ll be ages I expect,’ Jonty lied. ‘Why? Do you want me to find him for you?’

Will shook his head, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. He desperately wanted to keep Pia away from here, away from Tanner.

‘Well, you probably should wait inside,’ Will said gallantly to Pia. The sky was slate-grey and felt full of water. He leant down to kiss Pia, then clicked the horse onwards with his
feet and trotted out of the yard. When he got past the gate he broke out into a canter. Pia watched him disappear over the horizon.

Jonty helped her into the kitchen, holding open the door for her and booting Biscuit off the chair. Violet was working at Wilson’s farm down the road today, and Lulie was closeted away in
the snug, reading a script.

‘Now, what can I do you for?’ Jonty said, opening the cupboards. ‘We’ve got builders’, Earl Grey, Lapsang . . .’ He rummaged deeper. ‘Or Violet’s
got some of those lesbian teas: peppermint, camomile, lemon and ging—’

‘Coffee. Black,’ she interrupted, sitting down in the chair. Biscuit sat next to her, her nose in the air, her tail wagging excitedly.

Pia looked at her – how could she have thought she was ferocious the other week? – and began to stroke her. ‘You’re sweet, aren’t you?’ she smiled at the
dopey dog.

She looked up and found Tanner glowering at her, as though he half expected her to skin his pet. Her hand dropped.

‘I thought you said
he
’d gone?’ she said rudely to Jonty, who was busy sniffing the milk in the fridge.

Jonty peered round the door at Tanner. ‘Oh you’re back,’ he said nonchalantly.

Tanner frowned. Back? He hadn’t gone anywhere.

‘Fancy a cuppa?’

Pia looked around the kitchen, eager to avoid eye contact with Tanner – he was so hostile. It couldn’t have been more different to the cool grandeur of Plumbridge House. A large refectory table sat in the middle of the black stone floor. The bald armchair Pia was sitting in was at one end of the table and opposite an ancient old Wedgwood-blue Aga; a small square Persian
rug was at her feet. A vast red housekeeper’s cupboard dominated the short wall, and a narrow back staircase was nestled in the corner of the room.

Biscuit laid her head on the arm of the chair and Pia began absent-mindedly stroking her again. Jonty set out a plate of Jammie Dodgers and her coffee. Pia took the coffee.

‘I guess you have to watch your figure, huh?’ Jonty said, sitting down at the table.

‘Not really,’ Pia purred. ‘I have more than enough people doing that for me.’

Jonty laughed. Tanner rolled his eyes – the ego of the woman.

Pia watched the two brothers’ reactions. She liked Jonty – how could she not? He was easy-going and affable, everything his brother wasn’t. Handsome too. She thought that was
probably the only thing they had in common.

‘I can’t believe no one told me you were living next door,’ he continued, undeterred. ‘Wait till Lulie hears about this.’

‘Who’s Lulie?’ she asked, taking a sip of coffee.

‘My wife, Lulie Rawthorne,’ he said proudly. ‘She’s an actress. We’ve just got married.’

Pia’s eyebrows shot up. She knew perfectly well who Lulie Rawthorne was. Woody Allen had cast her in his newest film and she was being tipped as a name – and face – to watch.
But that wasn’t why her name rang alarm bells. Patek Philippe had just signed Lulie as her replacement.

Pia wanted to meet her. Now.

‘Where is she?’ she asked casually.

‘In the snug, working. Would you like to meet her?’

Pia nodded, her lean woollen-clad legs stretched out in front of her, the starched tutu frothing over the arms of the chair. She looked a very coquettish queen.

Jonty dashed out of the room, leaving Tanner and Pia in frigid silence.

Pia carried on making a fuss of Biscuit. ‘I think she likes me,’ she said eventually.

‘She’s a bloody atrocious judge of character,’ Tanner muttered, his hands wrapped round the steaming teacup.

Jonty came back in, pulling Lulie by the sleeve. ‘Here she is,’ he beamed proudly, leaning against the table.

Lulie sailed into the room and instantly Pia saw why they’d chosen her. Her hair was like vanilla cream, and she was wearing a vintage tea dress with a man’s leather belt wrapped
twice around her waist, with beige ribbed tights and flat boots.

‘Hi,’ she beamed, offering her hand, delighted to meet another star in this remote backwater. Everyone she met around here was a farmer.

‘Hi, Lulie,’ Pia said, shaking her hand lightly. The brothers watched the exchange. It really did seem extraordinary – to both of them – that two such stunning women
should be chatting in their shabby old kitchen.

‘I am such a massive fan of yours. I saw you in
Sleeping Beauty
at the Royal Albert Hall when you toured Europe a few years ago,’ she said. ‘You know, the one in the
round? I swear there were times when I thought you had to be hooked up to wires. It was almost as though you could just hover in the air. I mean,
how
can you do that? You’re like a
superhero to me.’

Pia smiled at the deference. They had a lot in common – beauty, international careers, the same age, Patek Philippe of course – but she wasn’t going to do anything to dispel
the implicit understanding that, of the two, hers was the greater talent. Lulie had been lucky enough to find a director who liked her pretty face. But Pia? She had taken her God-given talent and
dedicated her childhood, her adolescence, her life to moulding, honing, chiselling and refining it into shape. Unlike Lulie, she wasn’t an overnight sensation. Any glory that came her way had
been earned and was hers by right.

She casually lifted her good leg, rolling it out at the hip, as if stretching. ‘And I understand you two are newly-weds? Congratulations.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Was it a big wedding?’

‘We eloped,’ Jonty said, keeping his eyes away from Tanner’s. ‘Just walked into Chelsea Registry Office and took the first available slot.’

‘Ah, right,’ Pia said, sliding her eyes towards Tanner. He was standing with his arms defensively crossed over his chest.

‘I’m guessing your families must have been upset not to have been invited to the ceremony,’ she said. ‘Have you done something to celebrate since you got back?’

Jonty chewed his lip and looked up at Lulie. ‘Well, actually – we didn’t think of that, did we? We’ve just been trying to regroup since getting down here . . .’ He
paused. ‘It’s an idea, though, isn’t it?’ he murmured, the thought of it beginning to appeal. ‘I mean, it’s only right we should give our friends a chance to buy
us toasters, and I quite fancy a new Wii.’

Lulie slapped him lightly on the leg.

‘So why don’t you throw a party here?’ Pia remarked casually, knowing full well it would agitate Tanner.

‘It’s a good idea,’ Jonty said, looking over at Tanner. ‘And you could make your best-man speech after all, Tan.’

Tanner rolled his eyes again. ‘I really don’t think now’s the time for us to start shelling out on parties.’ He didn’t want to elaborate in front of Pia on the
financial doom that was staring him in the face with the imminent departure of Silk’s liveries.

‘Oh we’d pick up all the costs,’ Jonty said breezily, his attention entirely on Lulie. ‘How about it? Shall we start married life properly? You could do the white-dress
thing this time.’

Lulie shrugged nonchalantly. ‘If it means I get a new dress . . .’

‘Great. We’ll hold it, um . . . a month next Saturday. What d’you say? That should give most people sufficient notice.’

‘A month on Saturday?’ Pia said sharply. ‘No. That’s April 28th. You can’t possibly have that date.’

Tanner stared at her, furious. What – she thought she had ownership over the fucking calendar too, did she? ‘April 28th it is, then,’ he replied bullishly. ‘I’ll
book the clowns and get Violet to make some jelly.’

‘That’s the night of my gala,’ Pia said in a low voice. ‘Everybody’s coming – Elton, the princes, Elizabeth and Arun, Elle, Harry Hunter . . . I’d
strongly advise you not to go head-to-head with me. My RSVPs are already in.’ She broke a small smile and turned on the charm. ‘Besides, I’d love you to come too. It’s my
comeback performance. The Royal Ballet is performing with me,’ Pia said, nonchalantly pointing her good foot into an unnatural arch.

‘Thanks for the offer but there won’t be a clash for the guest lists. We don’t need rent-a-crowd for our party,’ Tanner said decisively, standing up straight and putting
down his cup. ‘I realize the concept’s probably alien to you, but we’ve got
real
friends.’

Outside, hooves were clopping across the cobbles. Will was back.

‘What made you think I was including
you
in the offer?’ Pia replied tartly.

Through the window, Tanner saw Will dismount and toss the reins arrogantly to Jessy. He strode into the kitchen like it was his own home, but the sight of Pia sitting with Biscuit – who
had practically gone into a coma from Pia’s rhythmic strokes – and Tanner leaning against the wall, made him grow pale.

‘How was that?’ Pia smiled up at him. ‘Feeling better?’

‘Much,’ he nodded, spotting Jonty and the beautiful blonde. Pia followed his gaze.

‘Have you met Jonty’s wife?’ she asked. ‘Lulie Rawthorne, the actress.’

He knew who she was. ‘A pleasure.’

‘Pia’s just been telling us about the gala,’ Lulie smiled. ‘We’re so excited to have been invited—’

‘Well, no, hang on a sec . . .’ Jonty said, interrupting her. ‘I – er,
we
– haven’t sorted out dates yet. What about our bash?’

Lulie put a hand on his chest, her head to the side beseechingly. ‘Let’s just host our party the night before, on the Friday. It’s crazy to force people to choose between us,
and if everyone’s coming down for the gala anyway, it saves them having to do two trips.’ In truth, she was scarcely on nodding terms with most of Pia’s guests, but her PRs were
doing a great job of drumming up interest in her and she was savvy enough to realize that piggybacking on Pia’s event would be a great boost for her profile.