Daughter of Riches (64 page)

‘Oh? Who is it then?'

‘I'm not sure I should tell you,' Debbie said. ‘If I told you you'd probably be very cross with me.'

‘Why should I be cross?'

‘Because …' Debbie hesitated, half afraid to go on. But having started she could hardly stop now – Louis would probably think she had something much worse to hide. Besides the temptation was almost irresistible and if Louis was cross – well, she knew how to get around him again. ‘All right, I'll tell you, just as long as you promise not to tell me off. Once, when you were away, I was really fed up with myself and I went to one of Simon Chambers' parties with Grace. I know you don't like me seeing her but I was very good, I promise. In fact the party was so wild I only stayed a little while and then I made my excuses and left, as the News of the World reporters used to say.'

‘Kitten! You know what that girl is like …'

‘Yes. I know. Hush, or I won't tell you. There was this man there, dressed up in a French maid's outfit – I mean
really
– a little white pinny and high heeled shoes, stockings and nothing else.' She giggled again. ‘He looked ridiculous, Louis, and he wobbled when he walked – like this.' She jumped up off his lap and demonstrated.

Louis laughed. Debbie could be a born comedienne when she tried.

‘Very amusing! Doesn't sound much like anyone from Jersey though. And now you know why I warned you off Grace. I hope you won't do anything so stupid again.'

‘I won't. But he
was
from Jersey, Louis. Grace told me his name. She said he was a politician there – Frank de Val.'

Louis's eyes narrowed. For a moment Debbie thought he really was angry, then a slow smile curled his lip.

‘Frank de Val, eh? Are you sure?'

‘Quite sure. Do you know him?'

Louis did not answer that. ‘ Well, well, Frank de Val one of Simon Chambers' party boys! What a turn-up for the books! I'm only surprised I've never heard it before.'

‘Why would you? They're a whole different set. I don't think Benny would even have them in his club.'

‘No, they do keep themselves pretty much to themselves,' Louis agreed. ‘Now I can see why. They're a load of perverts.' His tone was so scornful that Debbie was quite taken aback. She had never visualised Louis as a champion of moral standards though certainly for all his profligate ways there was nothing quirky about his sexual appetites.

‘I don't think I could ever fancy you again if you dressed up in a French maid's outfit,' she said, nestling her head against his shoulder.

‘I'm very glad to hear it,' Louis said, pulling her close.

But although he began making love to her his mind was already busy.

Since coming into his share of the Langlois empire Louis had had all kinds of ideas to extend the hotel chain. He was greedy for the rich pickings that were there for the taking from well-to-do locals and holidaymakers alike, and his ideas included the gaming clubs and casinos of which he himself was so fond. But his plans had come up against a seemingly unmovable stumbling block – the ancient and very strict laws forbidding such a development. Louis had begun to think, regretfully, that there was no way he could get around them. Now he turned over in his mind what Debbie had told him and thought that perhaps he had found a chink in the defences. Frank de Val was a senator. He was, perhaps, only one voice in the States – the island parliament – but he was much respected and well-liked. If anyone could talk his fellow senators around, it was Frank. And Debbie had presented Louis with a way of getting Frank on his side.

Louis kissed Debbie hard and long. Her lips were soft and sweet from the lip gel she had used this evening. But Louis tasted only the heady flavour of anticipated success.

Sometimes in the long and lonely days when he was away Debbie wondered if Louis was true to her. Somehow she could not imagine that he was. Louis was too physical a person to be satisfied with just one lover for very long, particularly when they were separated so much of the time. The very thought of Louis with someone else made Debbie feel physically sick, but when she could not put it out of her mind all together she tried to rationalise her suspicions.

At least she was the one steady relationship in his life. She was his kitten, installed in his London house. She was the one he came home to.

What Debbie had forgotten however was that whilst Louis had lived in London for the five years since he had crossed swords with his father, Jersey was also his home. His roots there went very deep – and so did his attachments. And one weekend, one of their lovely precious shared weekends, Debbie came very close to learning the truth about the way Louis spent his time when he was back in Jersey.

It was about noon on a Sunday. Louis had arrived home on the Friday evening complaining how hot London in June could be and how he would have liked to stay in Jersey. Debbie had said nothing – she was very afraid of rocking the boat – and after a pleasant evening at a riverside club his humour had improved. He had some business to attend to on the Saturday but to her delight he had taken her along, and in the evening he had managed to wangle an invitation to the country house estate cottage where he had taken her in the winter.

The covers were off the pool now and with the others in the party they had shared a barbecue and drinks at the poolside and swam until it became too cool to be pleasurable any more. Louis and Debbie had been invited to stay overnight but to Debbie's relief Louis had declined the offer. He had a business appointment arranged for the following morning, he explained, and Debbie was glad. Much as she was enjoying the company, now that she saw Louis so rarely she preferred to have him all to herself. They drove back to London, Debbie driving the white convertible Louis had bought her.

Next morning Louis had got up early and gone off for his business meeting leaving Debbie in bed. After a lovely lazy lie-in when she marvelled at how little sleep Louis could exist on she got up, took a leisurely, bath and went through her beauty routine. They were going out for lunch and Louis had said he would be back in good time to pick Debbie up.

She was in the bedroom deciding which dress to wear when the telephone rang. She ran to the living room, wearing only her frilly lace body, to answer it.

‘Hello.'

‘Oh!' The voice at the other end was startled, little-girlish. ‘I think I must have the wrong number.'

An intuitive prickle ran up Debbie's spine.

‘Who did you want to speak to?'

‘Louis Langlois. But …'

‘This is Louis Langlois's home but he's not here at the moment.' Debbie's tone was icy. ‘Can I tell him who called?'

‘Yes.' Beneath the childish tone was something that might have been aggression. ‘Please tell him it was Molly. He can call me back if he likes.'

‘Will he know where to reach you?'

‘Oh yes, he'll know.'

Debbie was seething as she put the phone down. The cheek of it! A woman – calling him here! To her knowledge it had never happened before, not since she had moved in certainly. She went back into the bedroom but she was completely unable to concentrate on deciding what to wear, pulling out dress after dress and discarding them on the bed. By the time Louis came home she was in a fine state and still wearing only her lacy body.

‘Not ready then?' he said, coming into the room and eyeing her impatiently. ‘I have a table booked for one o'clock – didn't I tell you?'

‘Never mind lunch! I've had other things to think about.'

‘Such as what?'

‘A woman phoned for you. She wants you to ring her back.'

‘A woman? Who?'

‘She said her name was Molly and you'd know where to reach her.'

‘Molly! What did she want?'

‘How should I know? You'd better ring her back and find out.'

He laughed. ‘Come here, Kitten. I love it when your claws are showing.'

‘No. It's not funny, Louis. Who is she?'

He reached for her anyway. ‘Molly is my sister-in-law. She is. married to my brother Robin. So you see you don't have a thing to worry about.'

‘Oh.' The relief was so great she wanted to cry; so great that it did not occur to her to wonder just why she knew so little about Louis's family.

Neither did she realise, as he kissed her and ran his hands over her body, displayed to its best advantage in the pretty ivory lace, that in telling her Molly was his sister-in-law he had only given her half a story.

For almost as long as she could remember Molly had been hopelessly in love with Louis.

She had begun life as Molly Feraud and she had grown up with the Langlois boys. It was Molly's mother, Susan, who had rescued Sophia on the beach the day that Robin was born and as a result the two women had become firm friends. They visited one another regularly, and took the children on joint outings, picnics, holidays, and Christmas trips to the theatre. Molly loved nothing better than tagging along behind the two boys on her plump little legs though they thought her a dreadful nuisance and escaped from her whenever they could, bringing down the wrath of Sophia on their heads when Molly, sobbing and red-faced with temper at being left behind, went running home to tell what had happened.

‘How would you like to be left out?' Sophia would demand furiously.

‘But she's a girl. She can't do anything. She's stupid.'

‘She is not stupid. She's just smaller than you. And you were supposed to be looking after her.'

‘But she gets in the way. If we climb trees she stands underneath and cries. If we go on the rocks she slips down into the pools and gets her socks wet and then we get into trouble. It's not fair.'

‘Fair or not you will include Molly in whatever you are doing.'

‘Oh sucks!'

Both boys thought Molly a nuisance but it was Louis who suffered most. As the oldest he was expected to be responsible for her and to make things worse he was Molly's favourite. She hero-worshipped him, dogging his footsteps, holding on to his jersey and even, horror of horrors, trying to kiss him sometimes. Louis made a great play out of how much he hated being the object of Molly's affection but secretly he was flattered. When she put her chubby arms around him and planted her sticky lips on his cheek he wanted to be sick, but there was something rather pleasant about being put on a pedestal. Louis couldn't explain the way it made him feel, he was far too young to understand it himself – if he had been older he would have recognised the heady pleasure associated with power. Whatever Louis told Molly to do, she would do it, short of taking off all her clothes and rolling in a bed of stinging nettles, perhaps! Louis enjoyed the sensation of omnipotence it gave him – and he didn't even have to be nice to Molly to retain her slavish adoration. Once when she was annoying him he pushed her backwards into one of those very rock pools he had complained she was prone to falling into, laughing as she sat there crying, her dress and knickers soaked, legs flailing helplessly, elbows grazed. He had been quite prepared to tell Sophia and Susan it was an accident, that he had slipped himself trying to help Molly over the rocks, but there had been no need. Molly never told a soul about the quick shove in the chest and a day or so later she was as hunky-dory for Louis as ever.

As the three of them grew up Molly began to assert her femininity. She no longer tried to keep up with the boys but she was still around a good deal and she made it very clear where her affections lay. As her childish plumpness turned to a prettily rounded figure she took to wearing clothes that showed it to its best advantage whilst remaining almost little girly – pretty little figure-skimming shift dresses, denim jeans with cheesecloth blouses, hot pants and fringed Red-Indian look skirts. She had a flick-up hair-do that made her face look round and very pretty, she outlined her big eyes with kohl pencil and wore pearly pale lipstick and nail varnish. Anyone with half a brain could see it was all done for Louis's benefit but Louis ignored her just as he always had.

Until Robin began to take an interest.

From their very earliest childhood the rivalry between Louis and Robin had been intense and both the boys to a certain extent had a chip on his shoulder about the other.

Louis had always been the more outgoing of the two. He had charm, charisma, good looks, a quick lively intelligence and the sort of easy-going self-confidence that was a hard act to follow. He was very good at hiding the darker side of his nature, the vanity, the selfishness, the ruthless streak, the tendency to cruelty and the hedonism that would mar his golden image in later years. But however much others might be drawn to him Louis nursed a secret certainty that whatever he did he could never please his father. The inner certainty that he meant less to Bernard than Robin was a cancer eating away at his guts and in later years even when he was openly opposing his father and, all intents and purposes, hating him with a fierce and fiery hatred, yet still there was a part of him that craved Bernard's approval and love.

Robin, on the other hand, never really appreciated the fact that he was Bernard's favourite. Always in Louis's shadow, he saw how Sophia favoured her elder son and did not have the insight to realise she was in fact compensating for Bernard's coolness towards him.

Sophia had always felt protective of Louis and, in a way, protective of Bernard. She was never able to forget Bernard's generosity in accepting Louis as his own and she was determined he should not have cause to regret it, whilst at the same time she was highly sensitive about Bernard's feelings towards the boy. She covered up Louis's naughtiness and hated it when Bernard chastised him, taking it almost as a personal rebuff to her. In her heart Sophia loved her children equally, but Robin never realised this. He saw the preferential treatment meted out to Louis and the natural mothering of David, so much younger as to always need to be treated a little differently, and saw himself as being, not unloved exactly, but certainly inferior in his mother's eyes. At the same time he took his father's attention so much for granted that it offered him no real compensation.