Private Lives (67 page)

Graham walked over and handed her the pen, then put his steady hands on her shoulders and waited as she scratched out a signature. First on the letter of resignation from the partnership, then on the transfer of her equity share to Larry.

She dropped the pen on the oak top and turned into his arms, burying her face in his shoulder.

She had told Graham everything, of course. Well, almost everything. Not the real reason why Simon Cooper had been so persuasive in getting Helen to help him bury the Amy Hart story, although she suspected that he had known of their affair all along. He stroked her hair gently.

‘Just let it go,’ he soothed. ‘Everything will be all right. Just the two of us. It’s only a setback. You’re down, darling, but you’re never out. You’re a brilliant woman who can turn her hand to anything. And truthfully, you were always bigger than Donovan Pierce anyway.’

For a moment she almost believed him. For years she had been so disparaging of anything that came out of her husband’s mouth, and yet now his words of reassurance were the only thing she wanted to hear.

She breathed him in, the soft smell of his pyjamas, and knew she could never leave him.

‘You’re right,’ she said, looking out into the sunshine again. ‘It’s not over, not by a long chalk. In fact, I’ve got a feeling this is just the beginning.’

71

Anna had never really realised how wealthy Andy’s family were until she went out to Villa Sole for the first time. At the start of their relationship, when Andy had spoken about his family’s summer place in Tuscany, she had imagined a rambling farmhouse with delphinium-blue shutters and broken flowerpots. But Villa Sole was truly magnificent, a whitewashed Italianate stately home with tall windows and pillared gables, at once both grand and chic.

‘Bloody hell,’ said Matt as their stubby Fiat hire car turned on to the arrow-straight drive. ‘It’s like a palace.’ Anna felt her heart give a flutter. Although the summer sun had toasted the surrounding hillsides a deep ochre, the grounds of Villa Sole looked just as luscious as they had when she and Andy had come here to kiss in the poppy fields and swim in the river. It was like seeing an old lover across a room.

‘Are you sure this is his family’s place, not a five-star hotel?’ said Matt as they drew up outside the entrance. ‘No wonder he pulled so many birds at college.’

‘You knew Andy at Cambridge?’ said Anna, her eyes wide. ‘How come you haven’t mentioned this before?’

‘Never really knew him.’ Matt shrugged. ‘He was the year ahead of me. But he certainly had a reputation as a ladies’ man.’

‘Well he never used to boast about this place,’ said Anna, suddenly feeling protective of Andy. Matt gave her a smirk.

‘Not to you, maybe.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Well you’re not the sort of girl to be impressed by fancy trimmings, are you?’

Anna looked at him sideways.

‘Should I take that as a compliment?’

Matt chuckled. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Definitely a compliment.’

Anna laughed. She had been surprised at how well she and Matt had got on. She had been nervous about bringing him – in fact she had woken up kicking herself – but away from the office, they had fallen into the sort of flirtatious banter you usually only had with people you’d known for years. They seemed to share a similarly dry sense of humour, and on the two-hour flight over they had giggled constantly, chatting away without mentioning work, Helen or the Amy Hart story once. In fact it had been like a first date: finding out about each other’s lives and interests, swapping funny stories. They had quite a lot in common, mutual friends, and had even lived on the same street when they were at Guildford College of Law, albeit four or five years apart.

‘Anna!’

She turned to see her father running down the steps, his arms open. He scooped her up and hugged her, squashing her face against his shoulder, and any last doubts she had harboured about coming to the wedding immediately evaporated.

‘So you’re pleased to see me, then?’ she said happily when her dad had finally released his grip.

‘When you said you were coming we were thrilled,’ he said quietly. ‘Thank you. Really.’

Anna was moved by the intensity of his words, and she realised with a flush of shame just how important it had been to him. How could she even have considered letting him down?

‘Darling, you’re here!’ cried her mother, giving Anna an uncharacteristically warm embrace.

‘So how are you enjoying Villa Sole?’ asked Anna. ‘Up to your standards?’

‘Oh yes. You should see tonight’s menu,’ said Sue Kennedy, an excited twinkle in her eye. ‘Truffles.’

Anna laughed. It was nice to see her parents both so relaxed, their slightly pink faces shining with pride. Anna had been so wrapped up in her own feelings towards Sophie, it was easy to forget that this must be a huge deal for them, seeing their first daughter tie the knot, and doing it in such grand surroundings too.

‘Oh Mum, this is my friend Matt,’ said Anna.

‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Matthew, pulling their cases from the car. ‘Where shall I put these?’

‘You’re in the two rooms at the very top of the house,’ said Sue, leading them both inside the house and showing Matt the staircase. ‘Fantastic views in the morning; you can see all the way to Siena.’ She looked over at Anna meaningfully. ‘And if you don’t need two rooms, I think the one overlooking the courtyard is the better one.’

Anna glanced at Matt – was he blushing?

‘I’ll just take these upstairs, then,’ he muttered, lugging the bags over his shoulder and disappearing up the stairs.

‘I want the room with the view,’ shouted Anna after him.

‘Yes, boss . . .’ came the weary reply, and Anna’s mother smiled.

‘Good-looking boy,’ she said.

‘Boy? He’s pushing thirty-five.’

‘Practically a geriatric,’ said her father.

Anna looked back and forth between her parents.

‘Now just because we’re at a wedding, don’t go getting any ideas,’ she said firmly. ‘He’s just a friend, okay?’

‘Whatever you say, darling,’ said her mother, turning to her husband and giving him a deliberate wink.

The sun was beginning to vanish over the scorched hillside and Anna gazed out at the carpet of wild flowers stretching across the meadow, scenting the evening air like cologne. Her mother was right. The view was spectacular from up here. In the dusky lavender light, the Chianti hills and vineyards folded and disappeared into one another, while just faintly she really could see the dark skyline of the great old town of Siena. Anna had spent many nights at Villa Sole but never in the eaves of the house, which were usually reserved for nannies or children – Sophie and her parents would be in the grand master suites on the lower floors.

Next door, she could hear Matt singing over the rushing sound of the shower at full blast. Was that ‘Karma Chameleon’? She giggled; Matthew Donovan really was full of surprises. She walked into her own bathroom and turned on the gold taps of her claw-foot bath, tipping in some lime-scented oil. When it was full, she peeled off her travelling clothes and sank gratefully down into the bath until the foam tickled her nose. Closing her eyes, she let the events of the past week float through her mind. Where was Helen Pierce this evening? she wondered. Matthew had called Larry from the airport, and apparently Helen had formally resigned from the firm that morning. And what would become of Peter Rees and his so-called friends, each of them equally marked and sullied by the affair? Would any of them ever pay for what they did?
The Chronicle
were putting pressure on the police to launch an inquiry into Amy’s death, but Anna knew there was no certainty of justice being done. And was there really such a thing as justice when you had money and a team of nimble lawyers at your disposal? She gave a crooked smile, remembering the argument she’d had with Matt that first day at Donovan Pierce, when she had so staunchly defended the legal system and a rich man’s right to use the law any way he pleased. She wasn’t at all sure she felt the same way now, not after having seen the Swann set hiding behind their millions. So where did that leave her? She knew she still believed in the law – you couldn’t give up on it just because the bad guys kept winning, otherwise who would protect people like Amy Hart? There had to be another way; a fair, honest way. Anna just supposed she’d have to find it.

Wrapping herself in a fluffy white towel, she unpacked her bag and laid the meagre contents on the bed. With everything that had happened, she hadn’t had time to go shopping for her sister’s wedding. She picked up the turquoise silk tunic dress she’d worn in Kerala, remembering the way Sam had smiled at her that night on the longboat.

She felt a knot in her chest just thinking about Sam and Jessica and that horrible scene on the drive outside Copley Manor. She took a deep breath and let it out. That was over now, she had to move on. And anyway, she looked hot in the dress, so why not?

She was just pinning her hair up on top of her head, exposing her long neck, when there was a knock on the door.

‘Come in,’ she muttered through the grips in her mouth. Matthew appeared at the door, looking relaxed in a pair of cream trousers and a pale blue shirt, open at the neck.

‘Look at George Clooney,’ she said appreciatively. She had never seen him in anything but a work suit, and casual looked good on him.

‘Well I know you like the screen-idol type,’ he joked.

‘Hey, cheeky,’ she scolded.

‘You’re not looking too bad yourself,’ he said as she finished her hair and turned around.

‘So why do I feel so nervous?’ she asked.

‘Nothing a glass of Chianti won’t sort out,’ he said, offering her his arm. ‘What’s the betting Villa Sole have their own vineyard?’

‘Actually they do.’ She smiled, enjoying the feel of him against her hip, enjoying the sense of feeling protected. They descended the staircase and went into the main hall, where Sophie and Andy were greeting guests.

Damn, she looks lovely, thought Anna. Sophie’s gown was floor length and the colour of a Bellini, a peach shade so soft it almost made her tanned skin glow.

‘She looks incredible, doesn’t she?’ said Anna, without a trace of envy or bitterness, feelings that had somehow seemed irrelevant once she had got to Villa Sole.

‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and from where I’m standing, she comes a poor second.’

‘Don’t be nice to me just because you feel sorry for me,’ she teased.

‘You’re beautiful and smart,’ replied Matt quietly.

‘Tell that to Andy,’ she said, without any resentment.

Matt hesitated.

‘The truth of it is that some men just can’t handle women like you, Anna.’

She turned to him with a mock frown.

‘Be gentle with me,’ she said, her expression softening.

‘You know, I spoke to my dad the other night,’ Matt continued. ‘He told me why he left my mother, a very smart and clever lady if ever there was one. The thing about the other woman, the one he left my mother for, wasn’t that he liked her more. He just preferred the way she made him feel.’

‘Is that supposed to make
me
feel better about being rejected by the groom? Because it’s working.’

Matt touched her arm.

‘What I’m trying to say is if the groom couldn’t see that he had the prize in his hands, then he doesn’t deserve to win it. Now go on, go and speak to her. Tell her you’re happy for her, even if it’s not true.’

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and gently pushed her forward.

‘Big sis!’ cried Sophie dramatically, stretching her arms out to Anna.

‘It’s going to be a beautiful wedding, Soph,’ said Anna, kissing her on the cheek.

Sophie glanced across at Andy.

‘So you give us your blessing?’ she said anxiously.

Anna nodded. Over the past year, she had built her sister up into some sort of wicked fairy-tale queen, but standing here, she just looked like an insecure six-year-old again, desperate for her big sister’s approval, all her pretensions stripped away.

‘I’m happy for you, Soph,’ said Anna. ‘I really am.’

She wasn’t sure she would ever be entirely comfortable with the way it had happened – there had been too many tears, too much history between them – but she could see how much it meant to Sophie, so she was determined to rise above it, to let her little sister have her perfect day. Growing up, the two of them had been as thick as thieves; they had shared secrets, almost spoken a secret language. And maybe in time, they would get that back, maybe the wound could heal completely, who knew? But for today, Anna was happy to put a brave face on it – for her sister.

‘Andy loves you,’ she said. ‘That’s all that matters. And you’re a far better match than he and I ever were.’

Sophie nodded, her eyes sparkling.

‘Thank you,’ she mouthed.

Anna squeezed her arm.

‘Be happy, okay?’

Sophie produced a handkerchief from her cleavage and dabbed at her eyes.

‘Anyway,’ she sniffed, ‘is it true you were going to bring Sam Charles to the wedding?’

‘How did you know?’

Sophie rolled her eyes.

‘Mum told me, of course. So where is he?’

‘Oh, he’s filming,’ said Anna vaguely. ‘Anyway, he’s just a friend.’

‘I assumed so,’ said Sophie with a touch of bitchiness. ‘Especially now that he’s back with Jessica.’

Anna was surprised that she could already think of Sam and Jessica with detachment; as if they were characters in a glossy soap opera, which she supposed, now that they were out of her life, they actually were.

‘Still, you have brought a rather good-looking date with you,’ said Sophie. ‘Almost Sam Charles handsome, if you like that Mr Darcy broody thing.’

‘Matt? He’s just a friend too,’ Anna said honestly.

‘My, you have been busy, haven’t you?’ said Sophie, slipping her arm through her sister’s and taking her to one side. ‘I’m so glad we’ve put all this behind us,’ she said, ‘because I want you to be the first person to know my news.’

Anna’s hand flew to her mouth.