Nick was not the type to throw spaghetti at the fridge.
Not that it mattered now. Nick was out of their lives for good. Mimi had made sure of that. There had been a few hairy moments afterwards, of course. Especially when she had realized it wasn’t going to be so easy to turn back up on George’s doorstep. Even more so when it became clear that they were in dire financial straits – Nick’s idea of revenge was to cut them off completely, and a very effective job he had done too. But anything was better than the pair of them being in his clutches, even if they were now penniless.
It had taken Mimi several days to find out where George had gone, but eventually she had winkled it out of his secretary at work. Mimi had great guile when she wanted to use it. Her acting skills were second to none. It had then taken her several weeks to persuade Victoria that they should throw themselves on George’s mercy. She was actually surprised that her mother not only had pride but also seemed ashamed of how she had treated George. Only when the cashpoint had flashed at her ‘refer to bank’ had she finally capitulated.
Mimi was utterly convinced George would come through for them. She knew he adored her mother. The look in his eyes when he gazed at her was unforgettable. The pain in his eyes when she’d told him she was leaving was horrific. Mimi hadn’t seen such depth of emotion in anyone before or since. Certainly not Nick. The only emotions she’d seen in him were lust and greed. Flesh and money did it for him. And now he’d taken Victoria for everything she’d got and proved that his brain was divided between his wallet and his trousers, he was history. Mimi was certain George would be their salvation.
There was, of course, one small obstacle. The girl with the paintbrush. Even in her scruffy decorating clothes, Mimi could see that she was quite stunning. Whoever she was, she was the complete antithesis of Victoria – curvaceous, bubbly and down to earth, as opposed to slender, cool and detached. She’d seemed a bit common, too – Mimi wasn’t a snob, but she couldn’t help noticing the girl had a regional accent. But all these things were good, because it meant that George had gone for the complete opposite this time. Which meant he was avoiding anything that reminded him of Victoria. Which meant he was still in love with her.
Mimi trudged up the hill and felt the sweat start to trickle down her back. George would have Victoria back in a flash, she was certain. And if he needed a little gentle manipulation, then she was the girl to do it. George had always been putty in her hands. Not that she’d ever, ever used him. She loved him too much for that. But for his own good, she was prepared to put the pressure on.
When George and Lisa got back from the beach, he found Victoria sunning herself in the garden.
‘You can stay for two weeks,’ he told her. He and Lisa had decided it was best if there was a time limit. ‘But no funny business.’
‘Funny business?’ She looked rather put out.
‘You know exactly what I mean.’
‘I don’t. Not really. But I promise I’ll behave. And I’ll do everything I can to help. Who’ve you got doing your PR?’
‘No one. We’re doing everything ourselves.’
‘Well, I’ll do it for you. I’ll get all the travel journalists down. And the magazine editors—’
She was pacing up and down excitedly.
‘Stop.’ George put up his hand before she got carried away. ‘You know we’re on a tight budget.’
‘But you are having a launch party?’
‘No.’
‘For heaven’s sake, you’ve
got
to. You’ve got to stake your claim. Make a splash. You can’t expect people to know about you if you don’t tell them.’
As George opened his mouth to protest she put up her hand, mirroring his actions of a moment before.
‘Stop. I know exactly what you’re going to say. You can’t afford it. But you can’t afford not to. You only get one bite of the cherry. And it needn’t cost a fortune. I promise you, with this setting I don’t need a huge budget.’
‘Victoria, there isn’t a budget at all.’
‘Listen, for the sake of a couple of thousand pounds I’ll have them queuing round the block to get in. What else are you going to do? Send out a manky little press release that will go straight in the bin? For heaven’s sake, George. You’re spending a fortune on this place. It’s a false economy not to publicize it, and you know it.’
George sighed. He knew she was right.
Ten minutes later he went to find Lisa. To tell her that Mimi and Victoria were staying. And that they were going to have to find the money for a launch party, the one thing they’d all agreed they didn’t want to bother with. As he walked through the hallway, he saw a tall, rangy figure with a mop of black hair walking through the door.
‘Mimi?’
Her funny little face creased into a smile and his heart buckled. He held out his arms and she rushed to hug him.
‘George. It’s so good to see you.’
For some reason, feeling his arms around her made her want to burst into tears. So she did.
‘Hey, it’s OK.’ He rubbed her back.
‘It’s been so awful.’ Her voice was muffled. ‘He was such a bastard to her, George.’
‘I know. I got the gist.’
Mimi looked up at him, her face tear-stained.
‘Did she tell you he was hitting her?’
George looked shocked.
‘No. She just told me . . . well, about your friend.’
‘I didn’t think she would. She never told me, either. But I heard him. It was always when they’d been drinking, but that’s no excuse, is it? I know Mum can be awful, but he could have really hurt her.’
Mimi looked at him solemnly. George felt sick. He knew how infuriating Victoria was. Many, many times he’d suppressed the urge to grab her by the arms and shake her. But he’d never laid a finger on her, no matter how much she’d goaded him. Obviously Nick Taverner didn’t have his self-control.
He put his arm around Mimi and squeezed her.
‘It’s OK,’ he said softly. ‘You don’t have to go back.’
‘But where will we go?’
‘We’ll sort something out.’
What, George couldn’t imagine. But he couldn’t let Mimi down. He suspected that he represented the only male stability she’d ever had in her life, this strange little girl with no father, whose own grandparents had rejected her, although George often suspected that this was perhaps Victoria’s fault rather than theirs.
He smiled down at her, pulling the fringe of her sarong.
‘What’s all this, anyway? Have you turned into a surfer chick?’
‘I felt like a total dork in what I was wearing. I just spent the last of my birthday money.’
George felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t sent Mimi a card or a present, which of course he should have done. She didn’t deserve to be cut off just because of Victoria’s behaviour. He decided it would be crass to start pulling cash out of his pocket now.
‘Nobody bothers too much about clothes down here. It’s very laid-back.’
‘It’s fantastic,’ said Mimi softly, her eyes shining. ‘Are you going to let us stay?’
‘Just for a couple of weeks, while you get things sorted.’ George ruffled her hair.
He looked up to see Justin standing in the doorway looking thunderous.
‘What the fuck,’ he demanded, ‘is Victoria doing here? Please, somebody tell me I’m seeing things.’
Later that evening, George, Lisa and Justin held a council of war.
‘I can’t kick them out,’ said George. ‘Victoria’s bleating on about alimony and settlements. I’ve got to keep her sweet.’
Justin snorted.
‘No, you haven’t. What does she mean, alimony? She contributed nothing to your household in all the time she was there. She was the one who left you, if you remember. You owe her nothing, George.’
George sighed.
‘No, but there’s Mimi to think of.’
Justin pointed an admonishing finger.
‘You’re not actually her father. You’re not responsible for her. Anyway, she’s big enough to look after herself. She must be eighteen by now.’
‘No, she’s not. She’s seventeen. And she’s the innocent party in all of this.’
Justin raised an eyebrow.
‘Haven’t you heard the phrase like mother, like daughter? You’re a fool, George.’
‘Justin, for God’s sake, shut up,’ said Lisa finally. ‘If I don’t mind them staying then I don’t see why you should.’
Justin scowled and looked out of the window. George tapped his pen on a pad of paper.
‘I’ve told them two weeks, max. I’ve told Victoria to get a decent lawyer to sort out her business affairs. Nick Taverner’s completely ripped her off.’
‘Good for him.’
‘Leave it out, Justin,’ George snapped. ‘He’s a complete tosser. Victoria caught him groping one of Mimi’s friends in the hot tub.’
Justin rolled his eyes.
‘Just be careful, George,’ he sighed. ‘And if you want a decent lawyer for yourself, just say the word.’
Lisa stretched and yawned.
‘Can we stop wasting time and get on with more important things, please?’ she asked. ‘The carpenters are arriving tomorrow to fit out the bedrooms, we start interviewing staff on Monday and we need to start pinning down suppliers. Because in case you’ve forgotten, we’ve got precisely four weeks before we’re due to open . . .’
Later, when Lisa had gone off to have a shower and wash the day’s dust out of her hair, Justin cornered George again.
‘You’re my mate. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I’m your best mate. I’m not going to go on about the fact that I feel a bit shafted.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Because if I’d known you were still married to that witch I’d never have gone into business with you. There’s nothing that woman isn’t capable of.’
‘I know you never liked her, but—’
‘Look – I’m not boasting, but I’m a wealthy guy. I’ve got a built-in gold-digger radar and right now it’s sending off major distress signals on your behalf—’
‘Please, Justin. I’m in total control.’
‘Promise me. If you get one moment of weakness . . . if she starts playing mind games with you—’
‘She won’t get a chance!’
George was adamant. Justin put a hand on his shoulder.
‘Just keep your guard up. That’s all I’m saying.’
‘Hey – with you around to protect me, she’s not going to get anywhere near me. You’re like a bloody Rottweiler,’ George joked.
‘I need to be,’ said Justin darkly. He hadn’t fallen for that demure, vulnerable act, not for a moment.
When Mimi tried to persuade Victoria to come down with her to the Old Boathouse later that evening, she nearly bit her head off.
‘For heaven’s sake, Mimi. You know I’m trying not to drink.’
Mimi looked nonplussed.
‘You don’t have to drink. Have Coke. Or water.’
Victoria looked at her witheringly.
‘You really have no idea, do you?’
‘No,’ said Mimi. ‘Can’t we just go and watch the band?’
Victoria threw herself on to the bed.
‘Don’t you go putting me under pressure as well!’
‘Me? As well as who?’ Mimi was genuinely bewildered. When you took everything into consideration, everyone had been rather good to Victoria. But her mother seemed more stressed than ever. She was lying face down, her head buried in a pillow.
‘I don’t know!’ Her voice was muffled. ‘Just go and enjoy yourself, will you? While you still can.’
‘Whatever.’ Mimi hated the expression. It seemed the ultimate in teenage indifference, but at that moment it seemed the most appropriate comment.
As soon as Mimi had gone, Victoria lay staring at the ceiling. Today had been absolute torture for her. Deep down, she’d been hoping for some sort of epic rapprochement. She’d convinced herself that George would melt on seeing her; that he would be overjoyed and would ooze forgiveness. But the look on his face had said otherwise. His expression had been one of . . . well, it could only be described as distaste. Certainly not delight. And, like Scarlett O’Hara on realizing she no longer had any hold over Rhett Butler, Victoria was shaken to find that her charms had lost their power.
She’d watched George touch Lisa, smile at her, and had felt bitter envy. She longed for his embrace, his reassurance, his solidity. But she had no entitlement. Despite the piece of paper that bound them together in the eyes of the law, Victoria knew she had blown it ages ago, and now she wept bitter tears of regret, cursing her weakness, her selfishness, her lack of judgement. Her inability to recognize the love of a good man when it was staring her in the face . . .
Mimi was a bit nervous going into the Old Boathouse on her own. For a start, she wasn’t sure if she was wearing the right thing. She was never going to look like the rest of the girls she’d seen parading around Mariscombe, so she decided to cultivate her own beach-punk style. She’d fished out her oldest, most patched denim skirt, teemed it with the halter-neck she’d bought earlier that day, pinched a pair of Victoria’s towering rope-soled espadrilles, then added a pair of fishnet tights that she cut off just below the knee, and strung several strings of love beads round her neck.
She pushed open the door and was hit by the heat of bodies and the babble of chatter. She elbowed her way to the bar and ordered a San Miguel. After about five minutes, she finally spotted Matt. He bounded over and gave her a hug.
‘Hey. You made it.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Cool. Come and meet the guys.’
He dragged her over to a crowd of people sitting by the jukebox. They were all incredibly friendly. By the time the band came on Mimi had been invited to two more parties and a beach barbecue over the weekend. She was amazed. This was so different from an evening out in Bath. That would entail two hours of fierce debate while they all decided where to go. Then when the destination was pinned down there would be at least an hour while everyone looked each other up and down and slagged off each other’s outfits, mixed with sporadic texting to change arrangements. Then suddenly it would become a drinking marathon and by ten o’clock all her friends would be legless. Before long they would be fighting, crying or getting off with someone they hated. Two hours later would come the military campaign to get everyone home: phoning the most malleable parent, scraping money together for a cab or cadging a lift off someone. But not before someone was sick or had passed out. That wasn’t going to happen here. Firstly, because there wasn’t a great choice of destination – this, it seemed, was where everyone hung out. And they weren’t on a mission to get drunk. Sure, they had a few beers, but they seemed to be able to stop before they fell apart. Mimi suddenly realized how much she had actually hated her social life. She’d never really felt part of the gang. She doubted if any of her friends had ever felt they belonged, because the whole point was to make everyone feel alienated.