Those Wicked Pleasures (28 page)

‘Not since you became the up-and-coming voice in Congress. The man to watch. Isn’t that what the papers say?’

‘This is one time you can believe what you read in print.’

‘You really are doing it, aren’t you? I bet you’ll make the big time.’

‘No point in anything else, is there? See you at lunch.’

‘The airport,’ she corrected.

He laughed. He still had trouble denying Lara anything. ‘OK, the airport it is.’

‘You’re the best of cousins, David.’

‘Quit wooing me, La. I said I’d be there. But how about giving me a little notice next time?’

Lara laughed to herself. David knew her so well. But then, so did all the family. Since her divorce she had seen more of Steven and John than she had expected to. Steven and Lynette’s marriage had begun to work well. No one had imagined it would. Steven had predicted his wife would either succumb to Emily and accept her new position as a Stanton, or she would suffer. Lynette had caved in. Completely awed by being a Stanton now, she had squared up to her role in society. Emily, once her challenger at every turn, was now her greatest friend and mentor. So Steven was free to pursue his career. In the years that followed, he had contributed his own useful mite to the infinite sum of human knowledge. His fieldwork – expeditions to the jungles of New Guinea, the Gobi Desert in China, digs in Polynesia – had made him a force in the world of anthropology. He used his wealth for the pursuit of knowledge and the good of mankind.

Lara was proud of Steven’s successes. She would meet him several times a week at the museum he had created on West Fifty-Third Street. Often John would join them there. Success on an even grander scale was his. It was John who had taken over the day-to-day running of the family trusts. It seemed to Lara that every year he staked a better claim to being the perfect Stanton. He had married the ideal wife, and appeared to have taken on more of Emily’s and Henry’s character than any of his brothers or sisters. His contributions to mankind might have been mostly monetary, but its sheer scale redeemed the lack of originality. In several years the trusts under his sharp and intelligent eye became enormously wealthy, wielding enormous power to do good. But he remained a social animal like Henry and Emily, like all the family. And available especially to Steven and Lara, whenever they wanted or needed him. He was now a man to whom world leaders sent their ministers for consultations on
charitable trusts. John had said many times to Lara, ‘Keep on saving yourself, La. When I’m burned out, it’s you I’ll nominate and support to take over.’

Lara, still perched on the edge of the bed, felt elated by the success of her siblings, a little downcast by her own failures. She sighed. Maybe she shouldn’t think about that too much. Why not remember instead where they had been in their lives at her age? She recalled her father once telling her, ‘Comparisons are generally odious, my dear. Not to say onerous and otiose, too.’ Not knowing her Shakespeare then, she had solemnly corrected her father’s vocabulary.

‘Get on with it, girl,’ she told herself, towelling her damp hair vigorously. She dropped the towel on the floor and shook her hair out. She ran her fingers through it as she reached out for the telephone, anxious to make her next call.

‘Sam! Oh, good, I’m glad I caught you. I’m going to travel, take Bonnie, the usual entourage. I need a change.’

‘If you really need a change, why don’t you leave Bonnie and the entourage with me?’

‘I don’t think you understand. I’d like to get away for quite a long time. Go to Europe, make it my base for going any which way my fancy takes me. At least, that’s what I think. But I know how much you love Bonnie, and she loves you. I don’t mean to deprive you of each other.’

‘Lara, I think we should talk about this.’

‘We are, Sam.’

‘There is something else serious I want to talk to you about.’

‘Well, go ahead, Sam. What’s on your mind?’ Buoyant now about changing her life, she felt she could be generous with Sam and give him a hearing. She could take on anything. Maybe he was at last going to marry this
paragon of womanhood he had left her for. Let him tell her then.

‘I can’t talk to you about it on the telephone.’

‘Of course you can. Get on with it, Sam. Be quick, I have a load of calls to make. No, maybe you’re right, come and see me. What I would like to do is make an arrangement with you, so you always know where we are. Then you can fly over and see Bonnie, or I can bring her home to see you. It’s not that I want to take her away from you, Sam. Believe me, it’s nothing like that.’

‘I know. You’ve been fair about access. Look, you don’t have to explain. Let me come and see you today.’

‘No, not today. I’m away today.’

‘Oh, then can I take Bonnie out for the day? I can move my appointments around. I’ll bring her home after supper, and then we can talk.’

‘I may stay over in Washington with David.’

‘In that case I would like to keep Bonnie overnight. Is that OK?’

‘Fine. Fix it with Nanny. We’ll talk tomorrow when I know more what I’m going to do. Really, I still haven’t made my plans. It’s just that I wanted you to be the first to know, because of Bonnie. I’m moving on for a while. Change of people and places, and all that.’

Hearing her own words confirmed for her that what she was doing was right. Right for her. She was like the hamster who finally gets off the wheel. It was such a cliché that she actually winced when she told herself, New beginnings. Scouring the world in search of something. Herself? She could mock the cliché because she knew better. With a big grin she told herself: Bullshit! I know who I am, and I can live with her, and thank the lord for that. What kept slipping in and out of her mind was, Love: romantic, real. An adventuress – that’s what I’m looking to be.

Sam’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Why this sudden urge to move on?’

‘I need to begin again, Sam. I’m sure you can understand that.’

There was hesitation the other end of the line. ‘Yes,’ he finally answered. ‘I can understand that. Lara, maybe we should begin again together.’

The unexpected suggestion startled her, but she recovered instantly. ‘No way, Sam. There’s as much chance of that as finding icicles in Hell. Whatever made you think I would consider an idea like that?’

‘We’re so good together. Even divorced.’

‘That’s for the world to see and think. I did tell you that was the way it was going to be. Play-acting, remember. You’ve fallen for the performance, Sam.’

‘Lara …’

She interrupted him, taking scant satisfaction in reminding him, in her own subtle way, that she had not forgiven him. ‘So what happened to this jewel of womanhood who was going to make you happy, give you a better life than we had together?’

‘You. You came between us, even though you weren’t there. I see you, and …’

‘I don’t think we should talk about this, Sam. Come and get Bonnie. When I’ve worked out my plans, we’ll talk. You can have access when you like and wherever we are.’

She replaced the phone gently. I should have guessed, she told herself, and returned to drying her hair. A few days before, while dining with the family, he had looked at her in that intimate sexual way that had always been a signal of desire for her. She had ignored it, pretended to herself that she had imagined it. Now she realised why the look had registered with her. Her immediate reaction had been to think, What a pig! That, if he could, he
would resume a sexual relationship with her. Lara felt quite ill at the thought that he could have sex with her now, without love. Any kind of carnal love would have been better than sex with a man who had deceived her as he had.

Now, the right moment gone, she could think of all the smart, hurtful things she could have said to him. ‘Just not good enough, Sam.’ ‘I deserve better than you, Sam Fayne. I shall get better than you.’ But how pointless! Childish and pointless, even if she believed it all.

She rang for Nancy and her maid, Coral. The two women almost collided as they entered the room. Lara sat at her dressing-table, still in her bath-sheet, while Coral dried her hair. Above the drone of the hair-drier, Lara outlined her plans to her secretary.

‘Nancy, you know that nice man who is so good with us about bookings on the QE2? Why don’t you get in touch with him this morning? I would like us all to sail to England as soon as possible. We’re travelling. I don’t know where to, or for how long, but we have to have a jump-off place, and I think Claridges, London, might just suit us. No Elizabeth and staying with her. And no, I don’t for the moment think I want to take up residence in the house in Gloucestershire, so forget all that.

‘It’s to be play-time, fun-time, foot-loose and fancy-free time. Put a pin in the map and go time. We’re on an adventure. We’ll just set ourselves up comfortably in a large suite at Claridges for an indefinite stay, then see where we go from there. You make all the arrangements.’

‘A few firm dates might help.’

‘Impossible for the moment. I haven’t finalised my plans yet. I just know I want a change and out of New York, like right now. Firm dates by tomorrow, maybe.’

‘The diary, Lara. All your engagements.’

‘Scrub everything from today on. Except, of course,
any serious family events. Those I’ll always fly back for, from wherever we are. I’m cutting loose – and, boy does it feel good!’

Lara scrutinised the expression on the women’s faces. They showed neither shock nor disapproval. Yet there was no approval either. It wasn’t indifference exactly; simply curiosity about what would come next. She gave the women the day’s plan. Nanny had to be told. Then she had Coral pack her little black dress, plus accessories, in a Louis Vuitton overnight shoulder-bag, together with cosmetics and a few toiletries.

She called the mechanic at Cannonberry Chase: would he load her flight-bag on to her plane and taxi it on to the runway? Then she called the helicopter service she used in the city to fly her to the field in an hour’s time. Nancy had already gone to her office: her first task to decommission the ostrich-covered diary, and to place calls. Wheels were set in motion for Lara’s open-ended journey. She was about to launch herself on the world yet again. It felt good, as if she had never done it before.

She chose from her cupboard a thinly woven camel-hair jump-suit, and around the waist cinched a wide chocolate-brown, suede belt. She pinned the diamond angel’s wings Sam had given her over her heart and slipped into a pair of brown suede cowboy boots. Then she stretched out on the chaise longue and picked up the phone again.

Emily had to be told. Or preferably Emily and Henry together. She called her father. ‘Dad?’

‘Hello, Lara.’

‘I’m taking off. Decided to go abroad for a while. Will you tell Mother?’

‘No, you tell her. When are you leaving?’

‘Not sure. A few days’ time, a week at the most.’

‘Any special reason?’

‘Yes, my life isn’t good enough.’

‘Well, that’s sufficient reason. Just let us now where you are. Taking Bonnie?’

‘Not sure yet.’

‘Leave her with us.’

‘Maybe. But, if I do that, you get Sam too.’

‘Whatever you think is best, La.’

‘Thanks, Dad.’

‘For what?’

‘For making it easy.’

There was a note of affection in her voice that meant a lot to Henry. As the years rolled by, he found himself ever more attached to Lara. She had her ups and downs, had weathered several personal traumas, and he realised she was developing into a very special lady. And Henry had always had a penchant for very special ladies. She was not the disappointment he sometimes felt his other daughter, Elizabeth, to be. He loved her, yes, but too often with her had plumbed abysses of boredom. He now saw Lara not as the failure she imagined herself but as a late developer, who would one day blossom gloriously.

‘Call your mother, Lara. And stay in touch.’

She called Emily, and had to smile. Emily was incorrigible. ‘Have a good time, Lara, wherever you decide to go. Only no surprises,
please
!’ was the upshot of that conversation. Then she sat for several minutes trying to restrain a compulsion to make her other calls and be done with them so she could take off straight away. To be free of family and friends within the hour seemed to be her goal. And she accomplished it.

Chapter 19

‘I’m breaking out, you know. As in prison break-out. Not running away, don’t think that.’

‘Never entered my mind,’ smiled David. ‘It sounds great.’

‘What sounds great?’

‘Breaking out. Don’t make any plans. Just go.’

‘Well, I do have to make some arrangements. Set Bonnie and the staff up somewhere.’

‘Not immediately. In a few weeks. Surely you can be parted from Bonnie for a few weeks.’

‘I don’t know. I’ve always had her with me. Ever since the day she was born.’

‘More reason to leave her at home for a change. Leave everybody at home. Pack your bag and go. Send for them later. A week, ten days, a month. See how you feel.’

‘Mother’s right about you. You’re still a thrill-seeker that she can do nothing with.’

‘That’s true.’ The two of them laughed. They were sitting at a table on the poop-deck of a 1927 yacht moored on the Potomac, having whisky sours before lunch. It was David’s platform for entertaining guests while avoiding the Washington social scene. ‘Country-hop. People-hop. Cut clear of responsibility. Arm yourself with a cheque-book, a pack of credit cards, a case you can carry, and your address-book. Dad’s got a great address-book. Get a copy to stuff in your bag. He has
all the right contacts, ruthlessly arranged by country. To be used as prescribed by necessity. Or is this an “I want to be alone”, Garbo-style retreat?’

‘Far from it. At least, I don’t think it’s pure Garbo. I hope it will just evolve into whatever it is. If you know what I mean?’

‘I do, and it sounds like a great idea to me. Something I would do myself. Just go. Have your adventure. I think that’s what this is all about. That and …’

‘Why does there have to be an “and”?’

‘Because I know you too well. ’Fess up.’

She gave him a sheepish look, ignored his insinuation and remained silent. They were lunching under a warm sun. The early October breeze bore an autumn freshness that made for perfect Washington weather. She was exactly where she wanted to be, with whom she wanted to be, and felt a sort of inner glee. She was just living in the moment and not thinking beyond that. If this was to be the pattern of her new life, she was content with it. She changed the subject.

‘I always did like this boat. I was really surprised when Dad sold it to you. It holds so many memories for him. He has entertained five Presidents of this country innumerable times on it, and foreign heads of state in droves. Or so he says.’

‘I think he sold it because he expects me to do the same. Not a bad buy for a dollar, was it?’

‘Let’s take her out, just for an hour or two.’

David looked sceptical.

‘If we do, I’ll ’fess up.’

He rose from his chair to phone an order to the captain to take them out. When he returned to the table he kissed the top of Lara’s head. Lowering his voice he told her, ‘I knew you would, with or without a sail down the river.’

A waiter arrived with a silver tureen of hot, curried
parsnip soup and ladled it into their bowls. It was served with swirls of cream and crisp, crackling croûtons. They finished their drinks as the crew slipped the moorings and the yacht swiftly put water between itself and the green bank. Lara took one sip of soup – which begged another, – before putting the spoon down to declare: ‘Utterly delicious. Now you won’t laugh at me?’

‘Never.’

She shot him a doubtful look, but spoke as she picked up her spoon again: ‘It all has to do with romance. I’m looking for romance.’ She looked closely at him to forestall his laughing at her. But there was no trace of a smile on his lips. He appeared quite serious and interested so she continued, ‘I suddenly feel quite starved of real romance. You know, romantic places – Venice, Florence, Rome. Or London in-the-blitz kind of romance: all thick fog and intense love, and danger, and living for today and the hell with tomorrow! Cairo maybe, and Alexandria. Or Paris,
but not the Ritz
. I am most definitely through with the Ritz.’ She managed a laugh at herself over that. David was glad to laugh with her. He adored her when she could laugh at herself.

‘Island-hopping in Greece, buzzing the Dalmatian Coast by boat … Remember that trip, David?’

‘I sure do.’

‘Lord, have we come a long way since then!’

A pensive, ‘Yes.’

‘Well, I want more, David. You know me, I always want more. The thing is that I am going to get more.’

‘Good for you.’

‘Dare I say the word? Sure I dare! Romantic love. And a romantic man – I want him too. And I want to get married again. I really liked being married. It was great. I’m making it sound as if I’m starved of romance.’

‘Maybe you are.’

‘I guess so. Is that pathetic?’

‘Truthful, I think, rather than pathetic. Wanting a unique account of the world through feminine eyes, maybe.’ David and Lara remained quiet while the waiter removed the soup bowls and refilled their glasses with a perfectly chilled Pouilly Fuissé. David was, as ever, delighted by her straightforwardness and candour, the source of her strongest allure. She radiated an ardour and youthfulness that enchanted men. Then why, he wondered, were her love affairs so tragic? She was right, she did deserve better. The waiter gone, he asked, ‘Isn’t there a man who would qualify among your current suitors? Rumours have surfaced that you don’t lack offers.’

‘Qualify, maybe. But that’s not good enough. No, I can’t say any one of them has exactly rung my bell. Know what I mean? You should, you’ve been there enough times with women. I’m a good-time girl who’s just not having a very good time. I see nothing to do but change that. A long time ago Dad told me, “Lara, you have something like a duty to be happy because you’ve got everything going for you.” I admit to slipping occasionally on that one. A bit weak-willed of me. That’s not an excuse, just a facet of my character. But I do bounce back, and I am now. So, I’m off. Maybe this lunch is my launch.’

He noted the change in her since her divorce. Then there had been confusion in her, malice, self-deception. But there was none of that to be detected in her now. There was about her the strange brooding tenderness that had often touched his heart. Ever since adolescence she had been preoccupied by love and its anxieties. Love was the most compelling thing in her life. And it was going to remain so until she found a man able to quench her thirst for it.

‘A Russian poet, Samuel Marshak, wrote: “Heart be intelligent and his brain be kind.” ’

‘Are you trying to tell me something, David?’

‘Yes. Don’t live everything you read.’ They both laughed. ‘Nor does it mean …’

‘Oh, David, give me credit. Not to fall recklessly in love, not to get bound in thraldom, not to allow the mess of shredded emotions over a bad love affair to flatten me – is that what you were going to advise? Have no fear, I’ve been there and I’m not going back.’

‘I see wisdom is not completely banned from your feelings about love.’

‘Yes, on a poop-deck in the sun, floating down the Potomac with a man who would never harm me, it’s very easy to welcome wisdom aboard.’

Their main course arrived: fresh salmon wrapped in filo pastry with a light hollandaise sauce, served with wild rice, puréed celeriac, and a salad of Belgian endive and crispy fresh watercress dressed with the most perfect vinaigrette. While the deck-hands-cum-waiters were serving, Lara abandoned herself to the cushions of her chair and watched the riverbank slowly slip by. Two joggers running along waved to her and she waved back. At a folding table an elderly couple sat on canvas chairs reading near the edge of the sunlit bank. Further on, two children were running in and out of the tall grass. She could remember how she would once have felt isolated from all that life going on around her. No such feelings marred that afternoon. Quite the contrary. She felt in touch with all life.

David reclaimed her attention by clinking his fork against his glass. She smiled and they both said, ‘To the chef.’

‘Stay over tonight. I have a party on at the house. And Washington is a romantic place,
if
you’re interested in
power politics, power climbing, power partying, power sex, all that sort of thing. Move on, though, if you think you’re going to find the kind of romance you’re looking for. In Washington, among this crowd, what passes for love and romance comes after the speeches, the coffee, the stiff night-cap, after the table’s been cleared and the last car has quit the drive. For men, it usually arrives in the form of a thousand-dollar-a-night hooker. That’s the safest, most fun form in a city where indiscretion and scandal ride shotgun with power and position. They have great hookers in Washington. And spicy adulterous relationships. They’re to be found around every corner, but even those are part of the local megalomania. They operate within a clear structure, sort of like a military operation, and with a high priority on camouflage. They are amazing, these Washington powerbrokers. And mostly they function on only the most crass and naive ideas about how to play power games and win and stay up there. There’s a high body-count in Washington politics. It’s a “today you’re in, tomorrow you’re out” kind of town. But, I’d still say, romantic in its own way.’

‘Not for me, I think. Although I’ve always had a fun time here. All those rumpled, speedy journalists looking like they’ve just fallen out of bed. Intense, intelligent, aggressive – my god, but they can be aggressive when they’re on to something. Newshounds is the right word. If they were in the dog world they would have to be Jack Russell terriers. And nosy? Well, I suppose that’s their livelihood snooping. But, warts and all, I’ve always found them the least unattractive of the Washington males.’

‘There will be a few at the party tonight. Make a nice, newspaperly occasion for you. Interested yet?’

‘Well, maybe. They are, in their own way, romantic figures, always looking for the big adventure.’

‘More like the big story.’

‘Oh, that’s number one priority, all else follows. But why do you have them around, David?’

‘Because they’re like children. Amusing, entertaining, and they do retain an odd kind of innocence.’

‘And they are great flirts! I always have my most fun flirting with the journalistic or literary friends you have at your parties. They make a play for me as if I’m a body with no brain and I play the air-head they expect. I rather like playing the beautiful, dumb deb role. Yes, why not? I will stay the night. For the first time since college, I’m not tied to that bloody ostrich-covered diary Mother stuck me with. I can do just what my fancy tells me. Who else will be there? No, let me guess. Your usual collection of the great and the smooth? How many foreign diplomats have you netted?’

‘Now don’t be cruel. They adore you, and they’re very bankable romantic figures.’

‘Are you laughing at me?’

‘No, just teasing you, not your quest.’

‘Oh, well, that’s all right then. I can handle them. They’ve been parking their limos on the family driveway for as long as I can remember.’

‘Confess, how many of them have made a play for you?’

‘Better ask how many haven’t! Another good question might be how many were single at the time. “Diplomats” usually means “married”. At least the more senior ones anyway. They come as couples, so to speak. If not, they’re suspect. That goes for your usual smattering of Senators and Congressmen as well.’

She caught a certain look in David’s eyes. She had hit on something. Something that was bothering him or that he wanted to talk to her about. Their meal over now, he suggested moving to the deck chairs and taking coffee there.

After only a few steps Lara’s hand was on his arm. ‘A wild guess.’

‘OK. Just one.’

‘You’re going to get married.’

He hesitated. ‘Thinking about it.’

They sat down in the steamer chairs set next to each other facing the riverbank. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. They overlooked a lovely garden with a late-summer rose arbour. Flowers just dropping their petals glided first into and then out of sight. The sun warmed them. Replete with fine wine and excellent food, the joy of their own company, they contemplated what David had just revealed.

At last he broke the spell. ‘Well, aren’t you going to say something?’

‘Is this a career move, or a love move?’

‘A bit of both.’

‘Does she know that?’

‘Yes, she does, actually.’

Lara turned to one side the better to see him. She held out her hand and he took it in his. ‘I hadn’t planned to hit you with it like this. I wanted you to know her better before I told you, but you were always too good a guesser.’

‘Know her better? Do I know her at all?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact, you do. Lara, this hasn’t upset you, has it? That I think I want to marry?’

‘Upset me?
No
. Surprised me a little, yes. But, David, I’ve come to the conclusion that we Stantons are the marrying kind. I told you, I loved being married. It was great until the very minute it was over. It’ll be rich for you too. You’ll love being married. I just hope I like her, because I love you so much.’

‘Marriage to Martha won’t change our relationship. No more than your marriage to Sam did, I promise.’

‘Why are we acting so glum? You look worried. Not on my account, please. It’s going to be wonderful. Being married is great, when it works. And I’m sure you haven’t waited this long to marry the wrong person. It’s odd. I thought I would be jealous at the very thought of your marrying or loving someone other than me, but I’m not. I’m sort of excited.’

She jumped out of the chair. ‘Move over.’ He shifted his legs, and she sat on the foot-rest of the steamer chair and leaned against him. With an arm around her shoulders, he hugged her to him. ‘Tell me about her. She has to be something to have caught you. Enough women have tried.’

He began to laugh. He was relieved that Lara was so happy for him. ‘Stop flattering me. She’s wonderful.’

‘Well, go on. Her driving licence would tell me more about her than you have. Is she beautiful?’

‘Ravishingly so. Very intelligent, very … But this is crazy. You know her.’

‘I do?’

‘Martha Winthrop.’