Читать книгу The Business Arrangement - NATASHA OAKLEY, Natasha Oakley - Страница 7

CALANTHA RAINFORD-SMYTHE was everything she remembered.

Amy stood next to her, completely dwarfed and feeling more sparrow-like than even she’d anticipated. There was some small consolation in watching the difficulty Calantha was having in preventing her spiky stiletto heels sinking into the soft grass of the Champagne Lawn. It made her grateful for her own flat pumps.

But there was no consolation to be found in the matter of Calantha’s soft coral dress. It fell to the regulation below-knee length but the back looped so low you knew she couldn’t be wearing a bra and the silk fabric skimmed her bottom so closely it suggested she couldn’t be wearing knickers either.

Amy sipped at her chilled fizzy alcohol and watched Calantha’s possessive hand, beautifully manicured, move to rest gently on Hugh’s cream blazer. She’d seen Hugh with beautiful women so many times over the years, but there was something about this one that really set her teeth on edge. She was so self-assured. So perfect. So…unlike her, she thought with a wave of inadequacy.

‘Hugh and I went to the Maldives this February. We had a simply marvellous time, didn’t we, darling?’ she said with a turn of the head that set her earrings swinging, drawing attention to a long and impossibly graceful neck. ‘We stayed at Kanuhura, which is only about forty minutes by seaplane from Male.’

It was obvious what Hugh saw in her. She was stunning to look at. She probably looked great in a bikini on a beach in the Maldives, but Calantha was still a condescending snob with a sweet, sickly voice that personally made Amy feel nauseous.

‘We stayed in a water villa. Totally fabulous. They’re built on stilts with steps that lead directly into the water,’ she continued, with an expressive wave of her manicured hand.

Amy looked away. Standing around eavesdropping on Calantha’s conversation wasn’t her idea of a great way to spend a birthday. Her eyes scanned the sky and watched ominous grey clouds blow across. They’d be lucky if the rain held off. She pulled her cardigan closer round her shoulders and wondered how Calantha could stand there looking elegant in practically nothing. The wretched woman didn’t even seem to have a goose-pimple anywhere.

Looking back at her, she caught Hugh’s eyes watching her. They twinkled engagingly as though it were a shared moment of amusement. Her mouth instinctively twitched as she felt his boredom radiate across the gap between them.

She allowed herself a small smile and gave half an ear to Calantha’s eulogising about other perfect holiday destinations. Ben appeared to be enthralled and Jasper’s girlfriend was gamely trying to outdo the blonde beauty in gushiness.

Seb touched her gently on the arm. ‘When you’ve finished your drink, shall we go back to the car and set up the picnic? Ben wants to be back here by two to watch some friends row.’

‘Do you need some help with that?’ Hugh asked, cutting across Calantha.

‘If you like,’ Seb agreed. ‘Amy’s not much use lifting out the hamper.’ He took her empty glass out of her hand and passed it to Ben. ‘Find somewhere to leave this. Give us half an hour and follow on. Same pitch as last year.’

Amy allowed herself to be propelled by a firm hand in the small of her back. Anything would be preferable to standing around listening to a boring conversation about places she couldn’t afford to visit and people she’d never met.

Last year she’d quite enjoyed Henley Royal Regatta—but then last year Hugh hadn’t been able to leave London. He’d been busy with a party of friends over from the States and had rung Seb to cancel. She’d quite enjoyed a day people-watching: handsome, athletic men wandering around and foolish ones drinking far too much. Ben, by virtue of now living in the quintessential English town of Henley, had become an associate member of the world-famous Leander Club and had taken them to tea. It had been pleasant.

This year, Hugh held court. When he was home everything always revolved around him and it irritated her. Even as she agreed to fall in with whatever he suggested it bothered her he should lead everyone so effortlessly. As soon as he said he was going to set up the picnic she could see the sparkle leave his girlfriend’s conversation.

‘Are you sure Calantha can spare you?’ she asked pointedly as Hugh joined them.

His eyes gleamed with amusement, evidently aware of the waspish edge to her voice. ‘I’m sure she’ll manage,’ he responded blandly.

‘Did you ask if she wanted to be left with people she scarcely knows?’

‘Do you think I should go back and ask her?’

Amy pulled her cardigan further onto her shoulders. ‘Do what you like. It’s none of my business.’ She looked back towards the group, now rudderless. Calantha’s long blonde hair blew in the breeze and the silk fabric outlined the shape of her legs. Into the silence she couldn’t stop herself asking, ‘How come she doesn’t freeze in that dress? It’s hardly a balmy summer day, is it?’

‘It’s cold, but women do that kind of thing.’

‘But not our Amy,’ Seb cut in, putting his arm around his sister.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You’ve dressed for comfort.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she asked, shaking off his patronising arm.

‘Nothing.’

‘Just that I’m not dressed like Calantha.’

Seb looked surprised. ‘Well, you’re not, are you? I’ve never seen you wear anything like Callie chooses.’

Amy glanced down at her offending simple tunic dress with its demure circular neckline. If it had been made for a petite frame it would have been more flattering, but she was acutely aware how out of proportion it was on her. Certainly it would never be described as glamorous. She felt the sting of female pride behind her brown eyes and lifted her chin defiantly.

How dared Seb do this to her?

Unthinkingly cruel. She looked like what she was—someone who’d been eking out her existence on a student loan. What did Seb expect her to wear? He knew she’d had no financial help from their father at all with her degree. Being so much younger than him, she’d felt the full force of their father’s bankruptcy whereas he’d been cosseted through his degree and launched on the London job market.

‘Shut up, Seb. She looks fine.’

Hugh’s intervention just made her feel worse. She supposed he meant it kindly, but ‘fine’ was scarcely the way she wanted to be thought of. She knew her tunic dress did nothing for her figure. It flattened her breasts to practically nothing and made her legs look too thin.

‘She doesn’t look fine,’ Seb said with a searching look at her. ‘You know, Hugh, it’s not going to work. This thing about Amy going up to London with you. It’s a great idea, but it’s not going to work unless we do something about her clothes. If you think this dress is bad, you should see the other things she wears.’

Both men turned to look at her as they walked and their scrutiny wasn’t flattering. If the floor could have opened up and swallowed her she’d gladly have disappeared. Her embarrassment, humiliation and total mortification were paralysing. It was all the worse for being true. Seb’s words continued to whirl about her with a hateful accuracy.

‘She can’t go into an office dressed like that. I’ve never seen any woman walk around Harpur-Laithwaite dressed like that. And while we’re at it she’d better do something about her hair. She looks about sixteen.’

‘She does look young,’ Hugh agreed, looking thoughtful.

‘You needn’t talk about me as though I’m not here.’

‘If she’s going to be any kind of a match for Sonya, she ought, at least, to look the part,’ Seb continued relentlessly. ‘Chief Executive’s wife and all. She’ll walk straight past her.’

The pain in her chest was becoming uncomfortable as she tried to keep up. She wasn’t part of their conversation, but since she was the subject of it she felt they should show more consideration of her. ‘Can you walk a little slower?’

‘Sorry,’ Hugh said, immediately slackening his pace. ‘We were just saying it’s a pity you don’t look older.’

Amy forced a smile to her face, but the hurt radiated from her. ‘Can’t do much about that.’ She turned to look at Seb. ‘You know perfectly well I don’t have any money. What I do have is plenty of debts.’

He had the grace to look a little ashamed of himself. ‘There’s no need to get defensive, Amy. I’m only saying it like it is.’

‘Are you?’ she said dangerously.

Seb huffed. ‘Well, it’s true. You will need to power-dress for Harpur-Laithwaite. Hugh will have to buy you something to wear.’

‘How kind of him. Do I get to choose my clothes myself or will they just arrive?’

Hugh’s soft laugh only made her feel more irritated. This was personal. This hurt.

Seb laughed back at him and placed a heavy arm around her shoulders. ‘Stop acting like a ruffled pigeon. It isn’t like you to get moody.’

She shook him off. ‘Only if I have extreme provocation. It might have something to do with the fact it’s my birthday today and, please—’ she held up a hand to stop him speaking ‘—don’t even begin to tell me you forgot because I’ve already worked that out for myself.’

His expression was comical and the look of total horror on his face went some way to assuaging the cold, resentful feeling she’d had since breakfast. She heard the small, muttered expletive and saw the look of entreaty he cast at Hugh.

‘Look, Amy, I’m sorry,’ Seb began with a nervous laugh. ‘I’ve got a hell of a memory.’

‘Fine. But I think the least you can do is not annihilate me completely. I’m perfectly aware I’ve nothing to wear. Believe me, it’s very boring dragging on the same pair of jeans each day and feeling grateful for the odd charityshop find.’ There was silence and Amy felt vaguely pleased at herself. ‘Now, let’s just set up this picnic and let the subject drop.’

She was aware of the closet glances passing between the two men, but she decided to ignore them. If they felt uncomfortable—good. She demanded very little of her brother, but his reminding her how unsuitably dressed she was for Henley’s stylish regatta was a cut too much.

It wasn’t as though she’d particularly wanted to go this year. It had been a casual assumption she’d join them and truthfully the alternative was worse. No one wanted to spend a birthday alone. She felt the hot prick of emotion behind her eyes and brushed away such foolish weakness with her hand.

Hell. This was embarrassing. In front of Hugh. She never cried. Certainly not over a lack of dresses or money. Just today she felt unbelievably lonely. One small, insignificant little boat cast adrift on a very big sea.

Hugh quietly passed her his handkerchief. She glanced up at him, surprised. His expression was soft and, for once, he wasn’t smiling. ‘Happy birthday.’

‘It’s not that. Not exactly. I’m just…well, I don’t know. Missing Mum, I suppose.’ It was true. Her birthday, her mum and Henley Regatta were all firmly entwined in her memory. When first Luke and then Seb had rowed here their mum had loved coming to watch them. Been so proud. Amy sniffed into the hanky. On certain days, on her birthday, the pain of being without her was still very raw.

Hugh didn’t say anything. Instead he put his arm around her tense shoulders and pulled her into his hard, lean body. She could smell his distinctive aftershave and feel his comforting warmth. Just being held by him made her feel better. Not small or insignificant any more. Nonsense, of course. He was just being kind.

‘Did anyone remember your birthday?’ Hugh asked softly as she relaxed into him.

She blew her nose in a small, defiant gesture. ‘Of course. I’m not completely unpopular.’ She could feel his fingers inadvertently touching her hair. He didn’t know, didn’t have any idea of how being with him was making her feel.

‘I wasn’t suggesting—’

She rushed on. ‘Some of my friends from uni sent me cards. So did your mother, actually. She always sends a card because it’s the same day as your aunt Mary’s in Brighton.’

She could feel the sympathy emanating from him and she didn’t want that. It was galling to have him feel sorry for her. She lifted her chin a little higher. ‘And Dad and Lynda sent me a cheque for my birthday.’

‘Enough to clear your debts?’

Amy let her laughter bubble up. ‘Hardly. Enough to buy a few centimetres of the silk in your girlfriend’s dress. Richard bought me these,’ she said, pushing back her hair to show the twisted gold knots in her ears. ‘They match the necklace he gave me at Christmas.’

‘They’re beautiful.’ And then, ‘I’m sorry about your birthday. We both are, aren’t we, Seb?’

She shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘It does. I can’t believe I didn’t remember,’ Seb said with real bemusement.

It was funny to watch him. Suddenly it didn’t seem to matter so much. With a half-laugh, half-sniff, she finally tucked Hugh’s handkerchief into her cardigan pocket. ‘I’d better wash this before I give it back to you.’ She put her hand out to catch Seb’s. ‘You never do remember. Not since Mum died and there’s been no one to remind you. Come on, let’s get this picnic sorted.’

Picnic was scarcely the word to describe what she’d put together. By the time they’d assembled everything onto tables covered with starched linen tablecloths it looked more like something from a film about an Edwardian shooting party than anything twenty-first century.

‘I can’t believe I got you to do this on your birthday,’ Seb remarked as he carried a large Brie to the table. ‘Damn! I forgot the keys.’

‘What?’ she asked, taking it from him.

He didn’t answer her, turning back to Hugh. ‘The folding chairs are in the back of Jasper’s Bristol. I’ll have to walk back and get his keys. Stay and help Amy with the drinks.’

Amy calmly made more space on the table for the cheese. ‘There’s a crate of wine on the passenger seat,’ she said, indicating back to Seb’s MG, ‘and that’s it, really. We’re done. Do you want to walk back and find Calantha?’

‘I’ll stay and talk to you,’ Hugh said, carrying the crate out of the low-slung car and putting it down beneath the shade of the tree. ‘They won’t be long.’

‘No.’

‘Do you want a glass of wine now?’

‘Why not?’ she agreed, looking about her for somewhere to sit. There wasn’t anywhere obvious. The ground was still very damp from the morning rain. She rummaged about in the boot to pull out the plastic sheeting Seb used to protect it. ‘We’ll have to sit on this until Seb gets back with the keys.’

Hugh picked up the corkscrew and carelessly lifted a bottle of white wine from the crate. His movements were so smooth and unconscious it looked as if he opened a bottle every day of his life. He probably did, Amy thought, spreading the sheet out. Not for him would there be little bits of cork floating in the wine.

She sat down with her back against the broad trunk of the horse-chestnut tree and shut her eyes against the image of Hugh.

‘You look tired,’ he remarked as he handed her a glass.

‘I am.’ Her fingers tingled at the slight contact of his.

Surely she’d outgrown this? She was so foolish to allow herself to be affected by Hugh Balfour. He had a girlfriend who could have been lifted from the pages of a magazine about to join them any minute. And that wasn’t unusual. He always had some impossibly beautiful woman in his life. It just wasn’t going to happen.

Men like Hugh Balfour went for long slithers of women who looked great in clothes and made other men envy them. Witness Calantha. They did not, she reminded herself forcefully, go for height-challenged women whom they’d known since before adolescence.

And that was just as well. She couldn’t cope with Hugh. She wasn’t resilient enough. ‘Seb and I loaded up the car this morning at about five. I’m not used to those hours any more.’

‘Were you ever?’ he asked, sitting down beside her, his legs stretched out in front of him, his fingers curling casually around the stem of his glass.

‘Just before Mum died she had problems sleeping. I got used to waking up when she did.’ She sipped her wine, trying to ignore the way her stomach nervously twisted itself in knots just because he was there. ‘It didn’t seem to affect me then—how much sleep I had or didn’t have—but I’m shattered today.’

‘It’s motivation,’ he said, leaning his head back on the trunk. ‘She was lucky to have you.’

Amy looked down self-consciously. ‘I was lucky to have her,’ she countered.

‘Why can you never take a compliment?’ Hugh asked, looking across at her curiously. ‘Not many people would put their lives so completely on hold.’

‘For their mum they would.’

‘Seb and Luke didn’t.’

‘No.’

He took a sip of wine. ‘Neither did your father.’

‘He’d gone to Spain by then. When the business went bankrupt he didn’t focus on anything much except that. And then he wouldn’t have been able to cope with seeing Mum like…well, like she was at the end, even if they’d been together.’

Hugh reached out to brush a wavering strand of hair away from her hot face. ‘And you could?’ She looked away, obviously uncomfortable. Her blush spread in a mottled effect across her neck. It was fascinating. Other women couldn’t cope with being ignored, but Amy was embarrassed by attention. ‘For once in your life you’d better hear the truth about yourself. You were amazing to put off going to university to care for her. At eighteen. It was too much responsibility for someone so young.’

‘I loved her,’ she said simply.

‘And that’s all that matters?’

‘Of course.’

She made it all sound so simple. She’d no idea how rare a quality she possessed. There’d never been a time when she hadn’t put other people before herself. No wonder his mother adored her. ‘Seb doesn’t have any idea just what he has in you,’ Hugh said with a smile before pulling himself to his feet. ‘Do you want some more wine? It’s your birthday, after all.’

She’d been about to refuse, but she allowed him to refill her glass. The power of his words coursing through her veins was far more intoxicating than mere alcohol. The trouble with Hugh was, just when you thought you’d finally understood how shallow he really was, he was nice.

It was as if some shining god had suddenly turned round and noticed a lesser mortal. You. It kind of took your breath away for a moment—but then you had to remember this was Hugh. And he was a god with feet of clay.

‘How come your father hasn’t helped you out if you’ve got into debt?’ he asked as he sat back down. ‘He seems to be doing fairly well again now.’

She shrugged. ‘He’s under new management.’

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

Her fingers picked at the grass. ‘When Dad remarried, Lynda gently suggested they ought to concentrate their financial resources on building up the new business. She convinced him I’d be able to get a good job when I graduated and could use the government loan in the meantime.’ His face remained blank and she managed a smile. ‘It’s not that bad. You don’t need to pay it back until you’re earning. Lots of students have them.’

‘But not many people who have a parent as wealthy as yours,’ he said dryly. ‘Does Seb know about this?’

‘Of course he does. There’s nothing he can do about it. Or Luke either,’ she said, thinking of her other brother.

‘You don’t seem angry about it.’

‘I’m past that. It won’t change anything, but Seb feels guilty.’

‘I imagine he might. He was bailed out several times,’ Hugh said, remembering two colourful incidents during their university career.

Amy smiled. ‘Dad hadn’t lost his money then. Seb knows it’s pointless talking to him, but he still minds he can’t help me himself. He’s ploughing everything he can back into his own new business.’

‘Yes, I know, but—’

‘So even if he offered I wouldn’t accept. It’s not his problem.’

‘What about Luke? He must be earning enough in medicine.’

Amy shook her head at the thought of her other brother helping financially. ‘He’s practically working for just board and lodging at the moment. He’s employed by a charity and based at a remote hospital in Africa.’

‘I didn’t know.’

She looked up at him. ‘Didn’t you? He flew out eighteen months ago.’

‘Not about Luke. About you. I’d no idea Lynda was like that.’

‘Don’t say it like that. She’s not a bad person. She’s just not used to the concept of family. She’s an only child herself, never been married before, never had any children of her own, and at forty-seven it all came as a bit of a shock to her. Besides, it’s not just her. Dad doesn’t like parting with money any more than she does. Not now. Not after the bankruptcy. He’s irritated we got Mum’s cottage.’ She smiled up at him. ‘It’s not your problem.’

‘It ought to be Seb’s. Can’t he speak to your dad?’

‘I’d rather he didn’t. Besides, Luke, Seb and I do own the cottage. It was always kept in Mum’s name so it didn’t go with everything else and she left it to us. When we sell it I can clear all my debts, but none of us want to put it on the market just yet.’

‘Why? Seb could do with an injection of cash and so could you.’

‘It’ll take time to sell and until I find myself a job I don’t have the money to rent a flat.’

‘Ah.’

‘It’ll work out. Hopefully I’ll find something while I’m staying with you. I hope I won’t let you down,’ she said, deliberately changing the subject. ‘I’ve only done the odd temp job, you know?’

‘Keep me out of Sonya’s clutches and I won’t complain.’

‘Even if I wipe a vital document off your computer system?’

He smiled, wicked laughter in the depths of his blue eyes. She felt her stomach twist over at the blatant sexiness of it. Irresistible. He was irresistible—almost.

She just had to keep reminding herself of his track record with women. One at a time, one after another. A serial monogamist who never risked allowing anyone close enough to touch the core of him.

‘Then I’ll kill you,’ he whispered softly, and she smiled as he’d intended she should.

‘I’m scared. Tell me about Harpur-Laithwaite. Is it all carpet pile and pot plants? What kind of things do the women wear?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Don’t believe you haven’t noticed, Hugh,’ Amy teased, and chuckled at the look he threw her. ‘You’re going to have to be a bit more helpful than that. Is it a jeans-and-casual-top sort of place or smart suits?’

She knew Harpur-Laithwaite was an investment bank and that Hugh advised traders on what to trade on, but it was scarcely a lot to go on.

He rested his head back on the tree trunk. ‘Somewhere in between smart and casual. Barbara, my PA, wears a jacket, but you don’t have to.’

‘Good. I don’t have one.’

‘Not at the moment, maybe, but we’re going to have to do something about your clothes. Seb’s right about that.’

‘You can’t buy my clothes.’

‘Of course I can. If I’m asking you to play the part of my PA, it’s my responsibility to kit you out appropriately. Just try and buy something that reflects my importance and social standing.’ He glinted.

‘I can’t—’

‘You don’t have a choice since you’re cash-poor. If you feel an attack of scruples just remind yourself you’re doing me a favour and I’m grateful.’

She looked at him with wide eyes, knowing she ought to refuse, but the temptation was just too great. ‘How much…how much do you want me to spend?’

He scarcely gave it a thought before stating a figure that made her head swim. She hadn’t had anything to spend on clothes for the past seven years and suddenly it felt as if she’d entered fairy-tale land. ‘Buy what you need.’

‘I won’t need all that.’

‘Then buy something for fun.’

‘What are you trying to do? I feel like you’re playing Fairy Godmother to my Cinderella.’ She laughed in an attempt to cover her embarrassment.

He leant over and kissed her cheek. ‘Godfather. Take it as a birthday present. Just make sure you take care in picking Prince Charming.’

As if there were any difficulty about it at this moment—given the choice. ‘Promise,’ she whispered, feeling the imprint of his lips where they’d touched her cheek.

With a feeling of unreality she watched as the others began to walk towards them. The short birthday idyll was over and she was back to the tedium of reality. She fixed a bright smile to her face as Jasper came towards her. ‘Seb’s just told us,’ he said, pulling her to her feet. ‘Happy birthday.’

But when he kissed her cheek it didn’t work the same magic.