Authors: Jan Warburton
Although my poor health at the time had greatly contributed in allowing it to happen, thank God he hadn't stolen my glory for too long, or I may never have recovered. He'd been a bad influence on the models though who, to my annoyance, continued to talk about him in fond, glowing terms.
Business continued to thrive however. After two abortive trials with a couple of aspiring young designing assistants, who simply could not measure up to my exacting requirements, I eventually found Jules.
Jules Clarke was an outrageous homosexual with a shock of honey coloured curls. A talented designer as well as an efficient pattern cutter, he also possessed the sweetest nature. His enthusiasm to please and co-operate was always evident, but never overbearing. Everything flowed well from the day he joined me. Straightaway, the atmosphere between us was the most relaxed and agreeable I'd known for a long time.
Lynda also returned during this period, on a part-time basis, leaving her toddler son, Simon, in the care of her mother on the days she worked for me. No one, not even Jules, could pattern cut and grade with quite the speed she could and thankfully, during her time off, she'd lost none of her ability. I'd been delighted that she felt the need to contact me.
'Oh Annabel, it's great to be back!' she enthused, hugging me tightly. 'Motherhood's fine, but I must get away from bottles, nappies and baby sick occasionally or I'd go mad! Thanks God for my Mum, who copes so well with Simon.'
'It's great to have you back! I'll bet your mother loves helping out anyway.' I handed her a bunch of fabric swatches, selecting some new silk taffeta samples to show her. 'Now, tell me, which one do you think for the halter gown? This shade of blue or the off beat green?'
'Definitely the blue.'
I should have known. Lynda had always loathed
any
shade of green. 'Green's an unlucky colour,' she always insisted. It was so good to have her familiar presence back again.
Shocked to hear about Daniel, she admitted however that she had always suspected he took drugs. Also, she'd been appalled to read about Alex's skiing accident in the papers but tactfully said very little to me about it, knowing that it must have hit me badly.
He still often entered my thoughts and I was tempted to ask Vanessa how to get in touch with him. But I knew it would be fatal, so did nothing about it.
I had by now begun to flit frequently back and forth to Italy at weekends, having developed a true love for the place. This delighted Luigi because nowadays he hardly ever visited England. Being able to leave things in the capable hands of Jules and Lynda helped to make the trips easier for me. These therapy weekends, as I called them, recharged my batteries, giving me renewed enthusiasm each time I returned to work. Luigi would arrange a private jet for me whenever I requested it, allowing me to go at almost a moment's notice anytime I wished.
So, most Friday afternoons I would fly from Stanstead Airport to join him, returning Monday lunchtimes. The only exceptions being if either Jules or Lynda were away, as well as leading up to and during collection shows, then I would hardly leave Beauchamp Place. Since I often worked well into the evenings, I still kept a sofa bed in my upstairs studio, as well as some relaxing clothes, underwear and toiletries.
There were all sorts of new design ideas that I wanted to put into action. One I was currently mulling over was a range of exclusive cruise wear. A customer had put the idea into my head one day. Apparently she'd hunted all over London for a well fitting bikini and accompanying holiday wear to take on a Caribbean cruise at Christmas.
'No one in England seems to cater for women who go on winter cruise holidays to the sunshine,' she complained.
She was absolutely right. Designer holiday swim and beachwear was especially difficult to buy throughout the autumn and winter months. A Winter Cruise collection was certainly worth thinking about.
Meanwhile, during my frequent visits to Italy, I learned that Luigi had been in touch with Vanessa's father on a number of occasions over a couple of business deals. There had of course, been mention of Alex's dreadful injuries and it had become apparent that, because of his physical incapacity and current poor health, Alex no longer ran any of the Karos businesses. This shocked me because I couldn't believe his father would disregard his son in such a way. On the other hand, I realised that Alex, since he was in and out of hospital having operations on his legs, would not now be in a fit state to jet about the world in the way he had once done. It also sounded as if things had become more serious and his health had deteriorated somewhat since his accident. So one weekend I decided to visit Vanessa and try to find out all I could.
She wasn't in when I rang to ask if she was going to be busy, but I was told by Rosie, her daily help, that it should be fine. Vanessa would certainly be returning later and, yes, she would be at home all weekend. So I left a message with her to the effect that I was on my way down.
*
As I drove up, Vanessa's estate car was parked at the main entrance to the house. Usually it was left standing on the far side, near the garages. Then, as my taxi neared the house, I saw why. A wheelchair was parked alongside the passenger door and seated in it was Alex. My heart almost leapt from my chest.
Vanessa, at this point, came dashing out of the house and was about to assist him onto a ramp that had been erected when she saw me alight. She gawped for a moment. Hell, I could hardly do an about turn now!
After stilted greetings, when my heart turned several more summersaults, we all went inside. It turned out that Alex had recently been moved to a private nursing home in Surrey to recuperate and he was visiting her for the weekend. She'd been on her way to pick him up when I'd rung.
'I couldn't let you know in time, since you were on your way,' she whispered, just inside the door.
'It's OK. My fault really, I should have given you more notice. Obviously I had no idea Alex might be here. How is he?' I'd already been shattered by his thin face and body, now wrapped from the waist down in a blanket. He looked so frail, only half the man he'd once been.
'Not good,' she mouthed mutely. Then, 'But he's getting there, aren't you, darling?'
'I sure am,’ Alex said, with a strained grin at me. 'I'll be just fine. See you two later.' With that, he wheeled himself on through to the conservatory. Vanessa turned to me, a sorrowful look clouding her face.
'He's not too good today actually. A bit depressed, the doctor said. It’s to be expected, I suppose, under the circumstances. You knew of course he had to have his right leg amputated?'
'No!' I gasped. 'I knew there were problems, that's all.' This was shattering news! Poor Alex. Suddenly I felt sick.
Vanessa gestured for me to follow her through to the kitchen, calling out to Alex. 'I'll bring you a cuppa through in a minute, darling!'
'The frostbite was to blame. The infection spread even after his toes were amputated. In the end they could only save one leg.' Vanessa filled the kettle and put in on the Aga. Turning to me she said, 'He's not the man you knew, Annabel.'
'I can see that.' I sat down, as my legs felt weak. Then I became cross. 'Why did no one tell me? Luigi never said anything about it either, and he's been in touch with your father quite recently.'
'Don't be angry. It was Alex's wish that you never knew. Anyway, now you do, so we can't do anything about that. He'll have a false leg of course, once things have healed properly. But it's all such an ordeal for him. Poor darling.' Vanessa's face suddenly crumbled into tears. 'I know he and I were never all that close but I can't bear him having to go through all this agony. Someone has to be there for him,' she sniffed.
I put my arms around her. 'I know darling, and I know you'll help him through. It must be so tough for him after being such a fit, dynamic man.'
We chatted on and she explained how the whole thing had affected him mentally. 'He's been frightfully depressed since the amputation, so the doctors thought a few days here with us might help. Perhaps, now you're here too, it'll do him some more good. And I insist you do stay, so don't get any silly ideas now, will you, of buggering off after lunch!'
I hoped she was right. The last thing I wanted was for my presence to set his recovery back in any way.
'Well, if you say so. It could be a bit tricky but I'll do my best. Incidentally, how will he cope with the stairs?'
'No problem. I've made a bed up for him in the study and, thank God, for the downstairs bathroom. A nurse will call each day to help bathe him and check his dressings and so on. So it shouldn't be too bad.'
Surprisingly, in spite of everything, the weekend wasn't the ordeal I expected it to be. Apart from looking much thinner, it was a relief to see a glint of the old Alex still shining through from time to time. He and I reminisced a little over old times and occasionally a cloud would pass over his face, as if he wished things could have been different, that we could have stayed together.
'We were good together, weren't we, honey?' he said at last, his dark eyes gazing into mine. ‘You know I've never wanted to marry anyone else?’'
'But it would never have worked ... you and me, Alex.'
'Perhaps not,' he sighed. 'I was pleased to hear you'd married Luigi though. I never knew him that well but Vanessa and Papa always speak highly of him - and everyone knows how much he adores you.'
We were sitting in the garden and the children were romping on the grass with a space hopper. Lucy was chasing Matthew on one and he was pretending it was a monster. I began to laugh at their antics.
'Don't jump down my throat honey, but do you ever regret not having my child?'
I recoiled momentarily at this blatant question. I gulped, looking down at my hands. 'That's hitting a bit below the belt, Alex, but for what it's worth ... yeah, I suppose I do. Not that I would have been happy having a child at that particular time - and you know all the reasons why, it would have ruined everything. Now though, because of an operation I can't have children anyway, so yes, now I do feel sad about it.'
I wasn't going to tell him that it had been the abortion that had been the cause of my inability to bear a child.
He reached out and held my hand. 'I'm so sorry, honey. But you're probably absolutely right. You and I were not meant for one another; not the way things were then with your fashion business involvement and so on.'
He then flashed me a sparkling grin. 'It was still good though, while it lasted between us. Don't you agree?'
I nodded, swallowing hard, and smiled back wanly.
'I'm glad we've had this chance at least to get to know one another again; to become friends once more,' he said, his dark eyes gazing into mine. His intense good looks almost mesmerised me. Hell, to think he could still affect me this way, and briefly I even wanted to go back in time to recapture our life once more in Eaton Square. He'd been my first love after all, and he was right, it had truly been wonderful ... for a time. As I thought back over my love affair with him, I wondered if he was doing the same. For me, the pain and the delight of it still remained but I couldn't condemn him any more over past actions and the decisions that had been made. It was irretrievable now.
In a way, I was so glad this weekend had happened now. I think my being there helped him a great deal too and we ended up parting on the best of terms, with him looking certainly more cheerful. It was quite a comfort to me.
During the visit, the two children, under their nanny's careful eye, also brought another light-hearted dimension to the proceedings. Although he'd been unable to play with them, it was a delight to see the pleasure they gave him. As I left on the Sunday evening the memory of him sitting with Lucy by his side, her head resting on his arm while he read her a bedtime story, lingered poignantly with me.
As I was leaving, I told him I would keep in touch with him via Vanessa and perhaps visit him sometime at the nursing home, or wherever he moved on to. It had seemed the right thing to say at the time. Afterwards I thought better of it. Who knows what emotional results could come from us seeing one another again too regularly? Apart from that, what would Luigi think? He had of course known of our earlier affair and might read more into it and feel hurt.
*
I never pretended to know anything about Luigi's many business involvements but I was often intrigued by mysterious phone calls that he always insisted taking in his study, well out of earshot, at any hour of the day or night. This would be in any house we happened to be in at the time. My favourite was still the villa in Tuscany and this was where I always headed at weekends and where Luigi would join me.
Sometimes I wondered if he was associated at all with the Mafia, knowing that many Italian businessmen and industrialists often were in one way or another. I never questioned him though, deciding that it was probably best for me not to know about it. However, spending more time in Italy did make me ponder a little more on the subject. Luigi was always adamant about keeping his business and personal life completely separate, and I'd learned to respect that.
One weekend the bloody killing of a well-liked local shopkeeper - Mario Longo, in Prato - was on everyone's hushed lips. It was Saturday morning and I was in a shop buying a gift for a young member of the kitchen staff who was leaving to have a baby. I rarely spoke much Italian but, by this time, I was at least beginning to understand a good bit of the language.