Prima Donna (42 page)

Mrs Bremar knew precious little about the worlds of showbiz, celebrity or finance, but she knew well enough that her employer had been humiliated. The papers were already painting him as a
figure of ridicule: the impresario who had fallen short. And Pia? Pundits were predicting that she’d rise like a phoenix from the ashes, with some sexy scanty cover shoot and a woebegone tale
of the pressures of perfection.

She heard a knock at the back door and looked around. Violet was waving at her. The housekeeper indicated for her to come in.

‘Hi, Mrs Bremar,’ Violet smiled, panting slightly from her brisk walk through the dividing woods. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her eyes bright.

‘How are you, Violet?’

‘Well, thanks,’ Violet said, leaning a hand on the worktop. ‘I just wondered whether Will was around? I need to have a chat with him,’ she said, blowing out her cheeks.
‘About the horses, you know,’ she added unnecessarily.

‘Yes, of course. He’s in the study. I was just taking this through to him.’ She put another cup and saucer on the tray. ‘Follow me.’

Violet held the door open for her and they walked down the wide hallway.

Will’s voice – tense – could be heard as they reached the closed door. Violet knocked once for Mrs Bremar.

‘Let me just tell him you’re here. One second,’ she said, pushing the door open with her ample hips.

Will looked up as Mrs Bremar silently crossed the room.

‘. . . yes, I appreciate that . . . but there’s hardly a connection between the two . . . We’re expecting to see a twelve per cent return on the fund by the end of this quarter
. . . Well, that’s a hysterical overreaction . . . I’m surprised you’re . . . I see, right . . . fine.’

He dropped the phone onto the desk and vigorously rubbed his face with his hands. He looked worn out. He’d locked himself away in here for the past two days and nights.

‘Violet’s here to see you,’ she said quietly.

‘Violet?’

The housekeeper nodded. ‘Shall I send her in?’

He sighed wearily. She was no doubt here to beg for his business back on Tanner’s behalf. Christ. That was the least of his worries right now. ‘I guess you’d better.’

Mrs Bremar brought Violet in. He got up to shut the door behind her.

‘Violet, what a nice surprise,’ he said politely, getting a waft of her fruit-shampooed hair as she passed.

‘Hi, Will, hope you don’t mind me popping in like this.’ She looked around the study, impressed. She’d never been in here before. The walls were hung with a broad-striped
celery-coloured paper, and one wall – opposite the two floor-to-ceiling windows – was covered with cherry-wood shelving with a library ladder to access the upper reaches.

The Napoleonic desk had three computer screens popping up through it and was covered with papers. He leant against it, his ankles crossed, while he watched her admire the room. He knew she could
feel the power in here, the hub of his empire.

‘Not at all. It’s always a pleasure to see you.’ He put a little pressure on the last word, and she looked back at him and gave a small smile. She wandered over to the window.
A couple of peahens were perambulating over the lawn like Victorian ladies.

‘I heard about Pia,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m sorry . . .’

‘Don’t be,’ he shrugged. ‘I’ve always believed good things come to those who wait.’

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, baffled. Did he mean he thought Pia would come back to him? Surely he could see her disappearance was a categorical rebuttal.

‘Just that,’ he said simply, clearly feeling no need to elaborate. ‘Some tea?’

She nodded and watched him as he poured, one hand still in his trouser pocket. He radiated power like pheromones. Minky had been right about approaching him directly after all. It was better to
sidestep around Tanner altogether and just take matters into her own hands. She’d given Tanner every opportunity to shrug off his sulk but there was clearly way too much testosterone between
the two men for them to ever act like grown-ups, and they’d parry insults and jabs till the cows came home. Besides, Tanner had spent the past two days deep in consolation with Jonty, the two
of them talking late into the night. They’d barely noticed her.

Will handed her a cup.

‘You’re probably wondering why I’m here,’ she said.

‘Yes, I was rather,’ he smiled.

She took a deep breath. ‘It’s about Tanner.’

There was a pause. ‘That’s a shame.’

‘I think he’s making a mistake,’ Violet said. ‘Getting rid of you, I mean.’

‘Seems to be all the rage these days,’ he quipped. ‘Looks like he was ahead of the trend. He should come and work for me as an analyst.’

Violet chuckled at his self-deprecation and bit the rim of her cup. ‘You and I both know how stubborn he can be,’ she said. ‘He’s readily cutting off his nose to spite
his face. But this time he’s threatening the livelihood of the yard. Seven other people could lose their jobs if we let him carry on like this.’

‘We?’

‘You and I both know he’s not going to back down,’ she said. ‘I thought maybe you could be the bigger man. Initiate talks. Go to him with a revised deal.’

Will’s eyes narrowed. ‘Revised how?’

She shrugged casually. ‘A thirty per cent mark-up should make him reconsider.’

‘I should think it would,’ he laughed, as amused by her naivety as by her boldness. ‘But why would I want to do that?’ he asked.

‘The convenience of having your horses stabled next door.’

‘For thirty per cent more? That’s a high premium just for that privilege. Besides, I’ve already made alternative arrangements. The horses are leaving tomorrow and it would be
very inconvenient to change my plans again.’

Violet took another sip of her drink, trying to think of another reason he should pay more, but Business wasn’t her thing.

‘But what about the people from the village we employ? You can’t let them lose their jobs.’

Will shrugged. ‘Their jobs aren’t my concern, Violet. Ludgrove’s told me to sling my hook and so I am. It’s his lookout to secure alternative business to keep them in
work. Not mine.’

Violet swallowed hard at the flat rebuttals. She realized she had picked her time badly. What with Pia’s abandonment, and whatever that phone call had been about, he was clearly full of
anger. Right now, he didn’t give a stuff about being the bigger man. She was going to have to play dirty.

‘Well, there’s also the small fact of Pia stealing my horse,’ she said slyly. ‘Ebony hasn’t been right since that ride. She won’t jump any of the hedges now
and I haven’t been able to hunt with her since. It’s only been my pleas that have stopped Tanner from reporting the incident to the police.’

Will looked at her, thoroughly amused. ‘You wouldn’t be trying to blackmail me, would you, Violet?’

She hated the way he kept saying her name. So patronizing. She took a large gulp of her tea and shrugged carelessly.

‘Because I admire the sentiment, really I do, but I don’t see what it’s got to do with me. Pia was merely a house guest. And now she’s gone, God only knows where.’
He watched the indignation build in her eyes and he put his drink down on his desk. ‘But if you do report her to the police and they find her, would you be so kind as to ask them to let me
know of her whereabouts? She and I have some unfinished business as well.’

Violet moved towards him and put her cup down hard, next to his. ‘This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come,’ she said, eyes flashing. ‘I thought I could come here and
appeal to your better nature. Clearly I was wrong.’

She went to storm past him, but he grabbed her wrist and swung her to him.

‘Violet,’ he said in a low voice, ‘you and I have long known that it’s not my
better
nature you appeal to.’

‘Sophie, are you coming or not?’ Esther called from the bottom of the stairs.

Sophie stayed sitting on the end of the bed. It was still covered with the patchwork quilt she’d had as a child. ‘I’ll be right down,’ she called, staring blankly at the
damp stain on the chimney breast. It had been there for as long as she could remember, the ancient beige Laura Ashley trellis wallpaper peeling away from the plaster.

Her mobile lay on the bed behind her, Adam’s text as yet undeleted.

‘Come on, Soph!’ Esther hollered up again. ‘They’ll stop serving at half past.’

Sophie sighed and stood up, staring at herself in the triple mirror on her dressing table. Her hair was still effortlessly sleek, thanks to the Brazilian perm she’d had put in, in Chicago,
and she knew her family were intimidated by the changes in her. Her mother was convinced her weight loss was down to spending too much time round ‘these anorexic ballerinas – everyone
knows they don’t eat’. And her father kept staring disapprovingly at the gold coat that was left hanging at the bottom of the stairs, as though it was a symbol of the decadence –
for which read corruption – of big city life. Her eleven-year-old twin sisters, Eilidh and Marie, on the other hand, had been overjoyed by her haul of designer make-up, and Esther, just
turned nineteen, had been trying for days to get her to come out to the pub so that she could show off her glamorous big sister. ‘Everyone’s talking about you coming home,’ she
kept saying. ‘They’re desperate to see you.’

She walked down the stairs and into the sitting room. Her father was sitting in his usual armchair, reading the paper. He looked at her briefly as she came in, then went back to it in silence.
When her mother had brought her home that first day back, he’d neither smiled, embraced nor kissed her, simply looked her up and down like she’d just returned from getting bread at the
village shop, and then walked out of the kitchen to his vegetable patch. He hadn’t looked her in the eye once since her return. Though no one had brought it up – preferring to pretend
it had never happened – there was an implicit understanding of what she’d done.

‘We won’t be long, Father,’ Esther said, buttoning her coat.

Sophie picked an old bottle-green cord blazer out of the under-stairs cupboard. She’d not worn it since she was fifteen, but it still fitted and looked good against her new hair tone. Her
jeans were a battered pair of 501s dragged out from the back of her drawers. They were too short in the legs, grazing the top of her ankles, but they looked fine with the oxblood penny loafers
she’d worn at school. She seriously needed to do some shopping.

The sisters walked up the lane, arms linked. ‘I still can’t believe you’re back,’ Esther sighed excitedly. ‘Even more than that, I can’t believe that
it’s taken over a week to get you out of the house where I can speak to you alone and get all the
real
gossip.’

Sophie shook her head. ‘You’ll only be disappointed, I’m afraid. My life wasn’t half as glamorous as you’d like to think.’ She watched a cat creep towards an
unsuspecting rabbit that was nibbling on some dock leaves and catching the last of the day’s sun. She clapped her hands and sent both scarpering.

‘Oh yeah? Well, who’s this Adam, then?’ Esther grinned.

Sophie stopped, startled. ‘How’d you know about him?’

Esther shrugged. ‘I saw your mobile lying on the bed earlier. I think you’ve forgotten there are no secrets when you share a room,’ she grinned.

Sophie sighed and started walking again.

‘So tell me – who is he?’

‘Nobody. Just someone I knew in Chicago.’

‘A boyfriend?’

Sophie watched her feet walking. ‘For a bit. It was never serious.’

‘Not like you and Jerry, then?’

Sophie pulled her arm away, suddenly angry. ‘Jerry? Jesus! What made you bring him up?’

‘Nothing, I . . . I . . .’ Esther stammered, taken aback by Sophie’s vehemence. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I guess I was just trying to find out
whether or not you still thought about him.’

Sophie stared at her, shaking. ‘Well, I don’t, okay?’

‘Okay,’ Esther said quietly.

‘Is he going to be here tonight? Is that why you’ve been so desperate to drag me out?’

Esther shook her head. ‘No. No, he moved away not long after you left. He’s living in Waterford now.’

Sophie took a deep breath and looked up the lane at the little thatched pub that was sitting fatly on the corner. ‘Well, okay, then. That’s all right.’

She started walking slowly. Esther, shaken by the conversation, walked a couple of steps behind her. After a minute’s silence, Sophie turned round. ‘Look, I’m sorry if I
overreacted,’ she said softly. ‘But all that’s bygones, see? My life has moved on. I don’t want to think about any of it any more.’

Esther smiled, relieved to have been forgiven, and caught her up. ‘Well, I can’t say as I blame you. I never did get what you saw in him.’

Chuckling, they went up the steps together, opening the door and releasing a burst of warmth, light and laughter into the street.

Esther went straight to the bar and ordered them a cider each. Sophie felt the stares settle on her like a blanket. She smiled nervously, managing to avoid making direct eye contact with
anyone.

‘Come on, we’ll sit over there,’ Esther said, taking their drinks and heading towards a table in the corner.

‘Hey, Esther,’ people murmured as they passed, shuffling their chairs out of the way as an excuse to look closer at Sophie. She was scarcely recognizable as the little girl
who’d run away seven years before.

‘I’ve never been so popular,’ Esther said under her breath as they sat down.

Sophie took her drink. ‘Cheers,’ she said nervously and took a noisy sip.

‘Hey, Esther, how’s it going?’ a black-haired blue-eyed guy asked, coming over from the bar. ‘Hey, Sophie. It’s been a while.’

Sophie looked up and instantly recognized Finn O’Connor from her Irish dancing classes. They’d been pretty good for a while back in the day, before she’d suddenly shot up at
fourteen, towering over not just Finn but all the boys in the year and finding it all but impossible to keep her long back stiff and straight.

He’d caught her up now, though.

‘Finn,’ she gasped, delighted to see him. She stood up and kissed him on each cheek.