Читать книгу Wicked Wives - Anna-Lou Weatherley - Страница 12

Ellie was finding it difficult to concentrate as her driver, Wesley, weaved through the Notting Hill traffic in her carbon-black Aston Martin V12 Vantage. She couldn’t get the earlier conversation she’d had with her wayward daughter out of her head.

‘Jesus, Mum, chill out already. I’m not a child anymore. I’m eighteen!’ Tess Scott had stood before Ellie with a defiant hand on her skinny jean-clad hip, rolling her eyes at her mother in over-exaggerated exasperation. ‘I’m pretty sure Allegra’s mum isn’t giving her the whole “make sure you use a condom” routine and banging on about ecstasy pills! It’s all so … embarrassing.’

‘Maybe that’s because Allegra’s mother doesn’t give a toss, Tess,’ Ellie had sharply replied. ‘I happen to care about what my daughter gets up to. I’ve been to Ibiza, remember …’

Tess rolled her eyes. Yeah, and no doubt her mother had sampled all that was on offer while she was there too. She was such a goddamn hypocrite sometimes it was unreal.

Ellie hadn’t wanted to fall out with Tess just before she left to catch a plane but her feisty daughter seemed to have a knack of rubbing her up the wrong way. ‘I’m only looking out for you,’ she’d said, her tone softening. ‘You’ll feel the same when you have your own kids one day.’ She had reached out and touched the tip of her daughter’s nose with an affectionate finger. ‘It’s just that you’re young and beautiful … I know what all the men out there will be after and I want you to be careful …’

Tess had thrown her limited-edition Mulberry Alexa onto the chrome and leather bar stool of their pristine designer kitchen with a loud exhalation. Frankly, she bloody well hoped that’s what they were after. It was partly the reason she was going, after all.

‘If I’m so beautiful, how come you’re so against me testing for that model agency I told you about?’ Tess had folded her arms and fixed her mother with a defiant stare.

‘Oh Tess, not this again, please,’ it had been Ellie’s turn to roll her eyes. ‘I’ve told you. That agency supplies glamour models and no daughter of mine is going to splash her half-naked body on billboards all over London. Not while she’s living under my roof. Can you imagine what your father would say?’ Ellie shook her head, dismissing the idea. ‘Once you’ve got a degree behind you, well, I can’t stop you if you want to pursue a career in modelling. But please, Tess, get your education first,’ she’d pleaded. ‘You’ve got a brain in that head of yours. I wish you would use it sometimes.’

Ellie stared out of the window as they turned out of Holland Park onto Abbotsbury Road where they immediately hit a slew of rush hour traffic and pulled her iPhone from her Miu Miu clutch.

Hey darling  Hope you’ve landed safely. Watch out for snakes in your boot!

She smiled as she sent the text. Tess would know what she meant. The Toy Story catchphrase was a code word they used when asking the other to tread carefully.

‘Shit.’ Ellie looked down at her platinum and diamond Chanel bracelet watch in irritation. She would be late to meet Vinnie now.

‘Wesley, would you mind turning the air con up?’ she asked politely. All this business with Tess had left her feeling hot and bothered.

Tess was a bright girl. Smart. She’d been described by the principal of her ridiculously expensive private school as ‘a naturally high achiever’, though she’d also added ‘diva’ and ‘troublemaker’ to that list too. Ellie knew her daughter had a bit of a wild reputation; she had seen how she acted up around her friends. Tess loved being the centre of attention, especially where the opposite sex was concerned. It worried Ellie that her daughter seemed naturally drawn towards drama and chaos, something she herself understood only too well. Men had always found the O’Connor women alluring and she knew that such a disposition invariably had the potential to bring trouble. Tess seemed to feed off male attention, soak it up like a sponge.

Ellie knew her daughter was no virgin but she didn’t like the idea of her being easy pickings either. Tess was more vulnerable than she thought she was; and certain men could smell vulnerability like a shark senses blood. Not that it was entirely Tess’s fault; she was the classic only child of exceedingly wealthy parents. Always the centre of attention, she had been sheltered from any kind of negative influence her entire life; beautiful, adored and spoilt rotten, that was Tess Scott. It was a bitter regret of Ellie’s that she had been unable to give her only daughter a brother or sister. More than anything, Ellie had hoped to give her husband another child. It was the least she could do after everything he had given her. But life had denied them, and Ellie secretly wondered if it had seen fit to punish them both for her sins. Sins that she and Vinnie never spoke of …

Ellie’s early life had been the antithesis of her daughter’s; all Tess had known was extreme wealth and the protective blanket that it afforded. She had had the very best of everything money could buy, and yet in an odd twist of fate, it wasn’t in spite of her mother’s impoverished provenance that she had all these things; it was because of it.

Ellie thought of her own mother and felt a terrible pang of sadness resound inside her chest. Charlene O’Connor had been beautiful once, with peroxide-blonde hair and emerald green eyes that sparkled when she smiled. Her aesthetically pleasing appearance was her greatest asset, and with bills to pay and mouths to feed she had put it to good use as an ‘exotic’ dancer in an East End gentleman’s club. Though frankly, that was a misnomer if ever there was one. ‘Never once seen a gentleman walk through those doors in all the years I’ve worked here!’ she would joke. Ellie could still remember it now. The low, amber lighting inside that dingy club; the omnipresent smell of cigarettes and cheap perfume in the air. It had been Charlene’s intention to make enough money to put her talented daughter through ballet school, give her the chances she’d never had to make something of herself. Her mother had always been so proud of her. ‘You were pirouetting before you learned to walk!’ she would say. ‘I knew the moment you were born that you had a special gift.’ It still pained Ellie to this day to know that she had ended up following in her mother’s footsteps into the clubs and dive bars of Las Vegas. Sure, she had become a dancer alright, only it wasn’t quite the kind her mother had hoped for. Nothing like keeping it in the family, eh Mom?

Ellie never knew her father and wondered if he was even aware of her existence. But Charlene had always had enough love to compensate for his absence; she had been an attentive mother once, caring and protective – and she had worked hard to pay to put her talented daughter through ballet school. And then she had met Ray Black, and everything changed. From the moment Ray Black had set foot inside ‘Dirty Harry’s’ spit ‘n’ sawdust club, all shiny flash suit and wide grin, Charlene O’Connor had been completely bowled over by his good looks and charm. It had raised more than a few eyebrows when she had agreed to up sticks and accompany the handsome stranger on his quest for the big time in Las Vegas with the young Ellie in tow. It was only a pity Ray had failed to mention his burgeoning gambling and alcohol addictions before they’d boarded the flight. And so Vegas had not quite turned out to be the fresh start Charlene O’Connor had hoped for. She soon found herself stuck in a cramped prefab on the wrong side of the Strip, working the dive bars, only for Ray to drink and gamble away her earnings. Life was no different from how it had been in London; in fact it was worse. And then of course there was Ray’s son, Ellie’s new surrogate step-brother. His name was Tom. Tom Black.

*

With the traffic finally dispersing, Ellie looked down at her YSL python hobo bag on the passenger seat and chewed her glossy lip tremulously. Unzipping the inside pocket, she glanced at the small newspaper cutting she had kept of Loretta and her surgeon husband, with mixed emotions. She was still debating whether or not to show Vin. She knew it would only resurrect terrible memories for both of them and she had no desire to spoil the evening they had planned. But she didn’t like to keep secrets from her husband. All those years ago, she had made a promise she intended to keep; one where she swore she would always tell the truth, no matter what. She owed him that much. Truth was, she owed him everything.

Pulling up outside the Michelin-starred L’Atelier de Joel Robuchon restaurant in Covent Garden, Wesley switched off the engine.

‘Mrs Scott,’ he gave an impeccably gracious nod as he opened the car door.

Ellie momentarily stared at the grainy image of Loretta Fiorentino – a woman who had inadvertently changed the course of her life – before screwing it up into a tiny ball and dropping it into the gutter as she stepped from the Bentley.

As far as she was concerned, it was the best place for it.