Into Temptation (Spoils of Time 03) (84 page)

‘It’s such an honour. And I know my mother would have wanted me to do it, so I couldn’t turn it down. But boy, will I be glad to sit down again.’

‘I’m terribly impressed,’ he said, smiling at her, ‘how long are you speaking for?’

‘Oh, not very long. Around five minutes, Giles said. But I don’t know if you’ve ever spoken in public, five minutes is quite long.’

‘I know it is. I once spoke at the Union.’

‘Goodness.’ She had heard of the Oxford Union from her mother, knew its debaters often ended up ministers, sometimes even prime ministers. She sighed. ‘So you’re another person to be worried about.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Every single person in that church seems to be famous or distinguished, or has a history of public speaking. I’m going to feel so pathetic.’

‘Of course you’re not. You’ll be wonderful, I know you will. And we’ll all be rooting for you. You know what they told us at school?’

‘No.’

‘You just fix on one person, imagine you’re speaking to them. Just till you settle down. Got notes?’

‘Well yes. But I won’t need them, I know every comma off by heart.’

‘Still, have ’em with you. That way you won’t even think about drying up. And remember, everyone’s on your side. You won’t get heckled.’

She laughed. ‘I hope not.’

‘And if you do I shall personally hit the person on the nose for you. Honestly, Jenna, you’ll be fine. Now I must go, got to make a phone call. I’ll see you at dinner.’

‘Fine.’

She watched him go out into the morning room, where the phone was, thinking how wonderful it would be, if she were sitting next to him.

Lucas picked up the phone and was about to dial Florence’s number when he heard his mother’s voice on the extension in her room, asking Clementine if she could speak to Kit. Lucas was a greatly reformed character but he still had undesirable traits, to which he admitted cheerfully; one of them was listening to other people’s phone calls. Especially when they sounded interesting. And this did; Adele seemed breathless, over-excited, even for her. He put his hand over the mouthpiece, to muffle the sound, and listened.

Noni was looking at herself in the mirror when Lucas came in; Clio was by her side at the dressing table, holding out her jewellery. They both smiled at him.

‘Hallo, baby brother.’

‘Hallo, big brother.’

‘Hallo, beautiful sisters.’

‘Hair up or down, do you think?’ said Noni. ‘I thought down, Clio says up.’

‘I agree with Clio. Clio, my darling, how would you like to make yourself useful? And get me a glass of water. With ice in it. Ask Mrs Hardwicke if you need help.’

‘Of course I don’t. She’s in an awful bait, though.’

‘Why?’

‘Those children, the American ones, are driving her mad, she says. They keep walking into the kitchen and asking her for fresh lemonade.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘They’re absolutely awful. Especially Teddy. Pity me, I have to spend the evening with them. Watching TV.’

‘We’ll keep visiting you, won’t we, Noni? Go on, sweetheart, get my water, there’s a good girl.’

‘OK.’ She smiled and left. Noni looked up at her brother.

‘You’re such a lazy toad, Lucas. Why not get your own water?’

‘Because I want to tell you something. Something quite
intéressant
. And you’ll never guess what, in a million years . . .’

It had all gone rather well, Adele thought; everybody seemed happy. The pecan pie had been an inspiration: everyone loved it. The wines had been fantastic; Jamie had acted as butler, had even given a little rundown on each wine as he served it, not boringly, but bringing them alive. She did like Jamie. She had done a last-minute switch of place names, had put him, instead of Kyle, next to her; she noticed with amusement that Lucas had done the same, had switched Cathy for Jenna. Cathy was now sitting in between Mike and Jack, clearly mildly put out, but still flirting furiously with both of them. Jack obviously thought he had found himself in paradise, beaming down her cleavage, nodding at her chatter, and, every so often, taking her arm and whispering God knew what in her ear, at which she would go into peals of mirth. She was rather sweet, really, Adele thought. Like her father. He was a really nice man. She just didn’t care what anyone said, Charlie was courteous, thoughtful, very appreciative – and obviously incredibly proud of his girls as he called them.

There was one thing, though, Adele noticed: Cathy drank a lot. By the time they went into dinner, she had downed three glasses of champagne and was flushed and giggling furiously up at Lucas; her father caught her eye and frowned at her, and a little later on, leaned over and said something to her but she took no notice. It was rather alarming at her age, she even drank the red wine unwatered. Adele watched to see how much Charlie drank, these things were often hereditary, she knew, but he drank very sparingly. Maybe Cathy was just nervous.

Izzie seemed to like Charlie too; Adele had put her next to him and they were swopping stories about Manhattan characters: there was someone called Moondog, they said, who stood on the corner of the CBS building every day, dressed in full Viking regalia, with horns on his head.

‘I’ve tried talking to him,’ Izzie was saying, ‘but Nick says I’m wasting my breath.’

‘Absolutely right,’ said Charlie, ‘he just ignores you. I don’t know how he can stand that gear in the summertime.’

‘I heard a very good story about La Guardia the other day,’ said Jack. ‘He was one of the great mayors of New York,’ he added, ‘for those of you who don’t know. You boys would know if it was true. Apparently, he was in court and someone came up in front of him for stealing, and he fined everyone in the court.’

‘Absolutely true,’ said Nick, ‘he’d stolen from the deli, the guy, because his family were starving and La Guardia said he was fining the whole court for tolerating a society that allowed such a thing to happen.’

‘Quite right,’ said Lily, ‘and how very American.’

‘Do you feel English, Mrs Lytton,’ asked Charlie interestedly, ‘or American?’

‘I feel both, I think. My body is English, that’s for sure, but my head seems increasingly American. And do please call me Lily.’

‘OK, I will. Thank you. And you were a film star, Lily, I believe?’

‘Oh yes.’ Lily embarked on the largely fictitious story of her film career; Charlie listened, nodding attentively.

It was all turning out to be rather fun; the only irritant was Maud, dressed rather sternly in bottle-green. She had become an absolute nightmare, Adele thought, remembering rather sadly the sweetly serious little girl she and Venetia had been genuinely fond of, and wondering rather helplessly how she could shut her up. So far she had delivered her views on publishing and lamented its increasing commercialism, delivered a short lecture on how no one with any sense at all could be influenced by advertising, deplored the fact that photographic modelling had come to be regarded as a career, and had then turned her attention to photography, telling Adele which camera she should buy, and what wonderful results she herself had achieved with it.

Felicity was on the other side of Charlie; they had clearly enjoyed one another. She was still very beautiful, Adele thought: her fair hair silvery now, but the gentle face, with its high cheekbones and curvy mouth, seemed almost unchanged. Maybe that was part of growing older yourself; you didn’t recognise the ageing of other people. But – goodness, it was interesting to study Felicity. To think of her having an affair with her father. She decided it had probably been mostly talk anyway. Felicity was very good at talk: and very good at talking to men, soothing and flattering them, finding them interesting, very much the sort of woman her father would have enjoyed. And everything which her mother was not: gentle, pliant, soft-voiced, quietly humorous. And of course she was a wonderful poet. On the other hand, Oliver had been quite the opposite of flirtatious; it was hard to imagine how it could have begun. No doubt the diaries would reveal that. As well as a great deal more.

And then Izzie: Izzie looked so lovely. She was wearing a black satin shirt dress, buttoned – or rather unbuttoned – quite low, with a wide belt, emphasising her tiny waist and her lovely hair caught up in a rather complex heap of curls. Every time Nick looked at her, he smiled proudly. She was clearly very happy with him. But sparkle as she might, there was a sadness about her, a shadow behind the lovely brown eyes; Adele wondered what it was. Nick clearly adored her. It couldn’t be that . . .

They were both so funny, those boys, they were like a comedy turn, they could make a fortune on television, have their own show. And she loved the way they talked about Izzie, as if she belonged to both of them; she didn’t seem to mind. Adele found she was very glad Izzie was happy; and that she had completely forgiven her for sleeping with Geordie. It was odd that. She supposed it was because she had just been able to accept Izzie’s version of it. And Izzie had, after all, saved her life. Oh God. Geordie. Geordie and the diaries. That would be there too. And Izzie too. All her sad story, spelt out no doubt, her love for Kit, her almost running away . . . What were they going to do with those things, what could they do, to keep them safe . . . ?

‘A toast to our hostess.’ Jamie was on his feet, smiling down at her. ‘It’s been a wonderful evening, so thoughtfully planned and so beautifully executed, and I would like you all to raise your glasses. Adele, thank you.’

Slimy bastard, Charlie thought, obediently raising his, smiling. God, he hated him. And Kyle Brewer as well, so pink-faced and pompous, holding forth about the literary scene as if he was Nelson Doubleday himself . . . He was only a fucking agent, for God’s sake, a parasite.

He smiled at Kyle across the table. ‘I love these publishing legends. Barty told me once that Nelson Doubleday’s office was so huge he used it as a golfing green.’

‘Well, that’s almost true,’ said Kyle, smiling back, ‘a putting green, anyway.’

‘My favourite story of Mother’s was about Dick Snyder,’ said Jenna. ‘She said he got promoted so often that his business cards were always out of date. I was really impressed by that.’

‘Would you like to go into publishing?’ asked Lucas.

She hesitated, then said, ‘No, I don’t think so. I don’t think I have the right sort of brain. I’m really interested in being a lawyer at the moment. I like the exactness of it. You can’t – bend it about, or fix the law.’

‘Oh, you’d be surprised,’ said Kyle. ‘It’s full of loopholes, for people to clamber through. The most open-and-shut cases often turn out to be stuck at just about halfway.’

Charlie looked at him; was he insinuating something? But Kyle’s expression was bland as he smiled at Jenna.

‘Yes, well, that wouldn’t happen in my office,’ she said quite sharply. Everyone stared at her; there was obviously some hostility there, thought Adele. How odd.

‘Adele, dear, I think, if you will excuse us, we might take ourselves off,’ said Felicity, ‘it’s been quite a long day and it will be a longer one tomorrow. John, come along dear, and Kyle, or are you going to stay with the other young?’

The other young! thought Lucas, winking at Jenna, refilling her glass. Is that fat old chap supposed to be young?

‘No, no,’ said Kyle, ‘I need to get my head down. Lovely evening, Adele, thank you so much.’

‘We must go too, Jack, come along,’ said Lily, hauling Jack’s gaze away from Cathy’s cleavage. ‘To think, this afternoon, you felt too tired to come at all . . .’

Gradually they left; Jamie kissed Adele at the bottom of the stairs, and thanked her again.

‘And don’t worry about the diaries,’ he said quietly, ‘I won’t tell a soul.’

If Cathy had not been dancing past them, on her way to renew her make-up in the hope that at least now she would get a little of Lucas’s attention, the next few days might have turned out rather differently.

They all went into the drawing room, Izzie and the boys, Lucas and Noni, Jenna and Cathy.

‘Phew,’ said Lucas, ‘that was hard work.’

‘Oh I don’t know,’ said Jenna, ‘I enjoyed it.’

‘Yes, and we all know why,’ said Cathy sweetly. Jenna scowled at her.

‘I thought it was the best fun,’ said Izzie.

‘It’s not over yet,’ said Lucas, ‘shall I put some records on?’

‘Yeah!’ said Cathy. ‘Do you have any Elvis?’

‘Think so,’ said Noni. ‘They’re all in the playroom. Want to come and help me look?’

They returned not only with Elvis, but Johnnie Ray, Frank Sinatra and Little Richard; Cathy took to the floor with Lucas. She was, of course, a superb dancer. As Jenna watched him, laughing down at her, swinging her round, pulling her back and forwards through his legs in true rock-and-roll style, she felt sick with jealousy and suddenly terrified about the next day. Then Mike appeared, bowed in front of her.

‘May I have the honour?’ he said.

He was an even better dancer than Lucas . . .

An hour later Adele appeared, looking pale and rather tense.

‘I would like you to be quiet now.
If
you don’t mind. The whole house is shaking. And I’d like to remind you that tomorrow is a very important day.’

She disappeared again; they all looked at each other.

‘Dear, oh dear,’ said Lucas, ‘naughty us. Six of the best.’ He sat down next to Jenna, took her hand, patted it. ‘You OK?’

‘Just.’

‘She’s fine,’ said Cathy, ‘how about we have some more wine.’

‘Good idea,’ said Lucas, ‘I’ll get it.’

He came back with a bottle of white wine and one of brandy.

‘This bottle looks older than God. Anyone like to join me?’

‘I’d like some champagne, personally,’ said Noni.

‘You and your champagne,’ said Lucas. ‘Honestly, she has to have it for breakfast.’

‘Oh, very amusing. I’m going to find some.’

‘Down in the cellar? Mind what else you find down there.’

‘Shut up, Lucas,’ she said quickly, ‘you know you promised.’