The Vow (31 page)

He shook his head.

‘No. I’m sorry, Lucy, but your grandmother died in her sleep last night.’

~

‘Marcus, it’s absolutely beautiful. I adore diamonds. This one makes my other nipple clamps look positively tawdry!’

He
leaned across and attached the confection of delicate gold chains and tiny teardrop diamonds to Cherry’s nipple which became suitably perky at his touch.

She laughed delightedly.
‘Perfect. I shall wear it at every opportunity. Thank you.’

She wound her naked body around his and he returned her kiss with enthusiasm.

‘I thought it would amuse you, and goodness knows you deserve it. I’m sorry to have had to ask you to do it,’ he told her.

‘
Well I really don’t know what people get out of it, but everyone to their own. At least it didn’t take too long and he was so grateful, poor little man!’ Cherry laughed. ‘My biggest problem was returning the favour. I’ve never been able to pee on demand.’

‘
Too much information, Cherry,’ Marcus warned.

This was one
recording he had decided not to watch. When he came to Cherry’s bed he didn’t want the images of what she had done with Culver in his head.

‘
I assume it worked?’ she asked. ‘You got what you wanted?’

‘
Oh yes,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘I’m confident it will have the desired effect.’

~

Culver hadn’t seen Saule until it was too late and the big man was right behind him. There was no chance of escape.

‘
What do you want?’ he demanded, trying to sound confident, but his voice had come out croaky with fear.

‘
Just a little chat, Mr Culver. We are going to go up to your flat, I will show you something and then we will discuss it,’ Saule told him calmly.

Culver toyed with the idea of making a break for it, but knew he wouldn’t get far so instead he continued tapping in the entry code to open the door of the apartment block. They walked across the small hallway and went up one flight of stairs; his legs felt like jelly and he couldn’t think straight. His hand shook as he tried to unlock his front door.

‘Take it easy, Mr Culver. I’m not here to hurt you,’ Saule assured him.

This made him feel better, but only fractionally. He had heard that line in films and the next thing you knew the victim was beaten to a pulp.

He finally managed to unlock the door and they went inside. Saule was surprised at how stylish it was. He had Culver down as the type to live in a dump strewn with dirty clothes and the remnants of last night’s takeaway, but the flat was well decorated, tastefully furnished and with not a thing out of place. Looking around he found what he needed, and gently pushing the terrified man into an armchair he turned on the television and DVD player. Producing a disk from his pocket, he inserted it into the machine and pressed the play button.

Despite his fear Culver became aroused as he watched the images of himself with the beautiful blonde. God, she’d been good! The fuck of a lifetime! He should have known better, should have known he was getting far too lucky. So the bitch worked for Delacroix and he had fallen straight into the trap. He knew he was in big trouble.

After some minutes Saule pressed the remote control, the screen went blank and retrieving the DVD he returned it to his pocket. Culver had beads of perspiration on his forehead, his hands were even more clammy than usual and his throat had gone dry.

‘
Now, Mr Culver, the position is perfectly simple,’ began Saule smoothly. ‘You will immediately stop your investigations into Mr Delacroix’s past and you will never contact Mrs Blake again. From now on you will make no reference, direct or implied, to Mr Delacroix in your column. This includes his future wife, his friends, family and his business dealings. Should you do so a copy of this will be delivered to every single person on your newspaper, from the proprietor down to the canteen staff. It will be sent to every other national newspaper in the country, every member of your family and to your friends, should you have any, which I doubt. It will also be posted on the internet.’

‘
That’s blackmail,’ protested the journalist weakly.

‘
I suggest you look at it more in the light of a warning,’ replied Saule as he headed for the door.

‘
I don’t suppose I could have a copy of that DVD?’ Culver asked hopefully.

As he left Saule shot him a look of disgust.

~

Lucy had been touched and rather surprised by the sympathy and support she had received from Marcus on her grandmother’s death. Not once did he tell her not to cry, taking her into his arms every time the tears welled up, nor did he seek to comfort her with well-worn platitudes.

Lucy knew Elizabeth had lived a long and happy life which she had left in the peaceful way she had hoped for, but none of that helped. It was the first time she had lost someone close to her and she struggled to cope with the finality of it; how she would never again see the old lady’s smiling face, hear her tinkling laughter or have the benefit of her wise if somewhat idiosyncratic advice. When she became distressed by how she had not telephoned or visited Elizabeth in the last week, Marcus helped her to understand how with death there always comes guilt. How you always felt that you had not done enough, or somehow cared enough for those you lost and how it was not the last few days that counted but the whole body of love that had gone before.

Two days before the funeral Amelia rang with news that not only astounded her daughter but also opened up a whole new set of questions to be answered.

‘I would have preferred to tell you this in person, Lucy, but you need to know before the service when you will see the rest of the family. Your uncle Charles and I have seen Gran’s solicitor today, and apart from a few bequests she has left her entire estate to you.’

‘
To me!’ exclaimed Lucy. ‘But what about you and Uncle Charles, and the boys?’

With a short laugh Amelia replied,
‘She obviously decided that Charles and I could do without her money, which is fair enough, we are both comfortably placed. She has left us some lovely pieces from the house which she knew we would be pleased to have and the boys each get a respectable lump sum, but everything else goes to you. You always were her favourite, of course. I have to say Charles is a little put out though.’

‘
Oh dear,’ groaned Lucy.

‘
Don’t worry, he’ll get over it and he is far too well bred to make a fuss. I suppose I would feel the same if it were the other way around and your cousins were getting the lion’s share. Lucy, James reckons in the present market the house alone is worth around two million pounds and mother made some very canny decisions with her investment portfolio. There will be inheritance tax to pay of course but you will still be looking at quite a considerable sum.’

Lucy didn’t want to think about the money. She didn’t want it; she wanted her gran back. She wanted to call up and invite herself round for tea, nibble on dainties, and liste
n to Elizabeth’s fascinating and seemingly endless store of tales of a bygone age. But that wasn’t going to happen and the money was an inescapable fact. It would mean she could pay off her debts, buy a flat or perhaps a little house, and if she invested the rest sensibly she would be financially secure forever. She didn’t feel she deserved it, and thought of how Amy had accused her of being bone idle, waiting for what she wanted to just drop into her lap. And how did the inheritance change her future? She realised that with her plans for her own home and an independent life she was ruling out Marcus. Did she want to do that?

When she had first met him her life had been a mess; she was homeless, almost penniless and on her own yet again. It had been hard to resist the safe and comfortable future he had offered, but things were rather different now. And he had not turned out to be quite the man she thought he was. Marcus manipulated and intimidated people, he was high-handed and expected her to dance to his tune, and he had some very questionable friends.

Every time she looked at the beautiful diamond on her finger she thought about his puzzling marriage to Helena, his years of celibacy and her inability to move the relationship on in physical terms. It was all a sham. And yet, was it? She had no doubt that he was fond of her and he had not made any empty promises. He offered a marriage built on honesty, loyalty and friendship, and that still held an appeal for her. Love had let her down too often and perhaps Ellen was right when she had said that it was overrated anyway. Marcus had become an important part of her life, and if her feelings for him were nothing like those she had for Laurent, well, look where that had got her. Presented with the opportunity to walk away she suddenly realised she didn’t want to.

~

Culver sat deep in thought. He’d been doing a lot of thinking in the last few days. His life, seemingly always disappointing, was showing no signs of improvement. Bored, fed-up and dissatisfied, being menaced in his own home by Delacroix’s thug seemed like the last straw. Why didn’t anything ever go his way? Why was everything and everybody always against him? He looked back over years of failure and tried to understand where he had gone wrong. It was all so bloody unfair! He was a damned good journalist, he could have been a Pulitzer Prize winner but the breaks never came his way. And now he was stuck chronicling the lives of the over-privileged, under-talented and undeservedly famous. Like Marcus Delacroix.

Delacroix, with his good looks, wealth, power and influence. Just the thought of him was enough to bring on a fresh wave of anger and frustration. The man had it all, including the admiration and respect of those stupid enough not to realise what a bastard he was. And, at the end of every day Delacroix had the young and lovely Juicy Lucy to go home to, where he had to make do w
ith his collection of porn films, or at best, the half-hearted ministrations of some cheap tart. The fact that it had been his enemy who had supplied him with the woman of his dreams and the best sex he had ever had, in order to control him, filled him with a hatred as impotent as it was ferocious. Life just kept dealing him a losing hand and he was sick of it.

Worn down by years of disillusionment and regret, and the weight of the huge chip which had landed on her shoulder as a young woman, Janet Culver had seen history repeating itself in her son. Just before she died she
had tried to warn him how self-pity, discontent and bitterness could suck you dry, but her words had fallen on deaf ears. He had continued to go through life holding everyone in contempt, and yet yearning with a pathetic desperation for their esteem. Unable to see that he was his own worse enemy he held the world at large responsible for his failings. Nothing was ever his fault, and today it was Marcus Delacroix who was to blame for everything that was wrong in his miserable little existence.

What he needed was an outlet for all this pent up emotion, definitely sexual and preferably free. Looking up he saw Sonia, alluring as ever, with her thin body swathed in a polyester dress of several unbecoming colours. Any port in a storm, he thought, and she does have a great pair of tits. She was trying to catch his eye as she walked towards the photocopy room.

He beckoned her over and, as she perched on the edge of his desk, he asked, ‘I was wondering if you fancied coming round to my place this evening.’

The happy smile illuminated her plain face and made it almost pretty.

~

Marcus watched Lucy as she stared blankly through the car window. She had held up well during the funeral, but now on their way home she looked tired, pinched and pale beneath her tan. He reached for her hand and turning to him she managed a small smile.

‘I think what you could do with is a holiday, Lucy,’ he told her firmly. ‘I had hoped we could spend some time at the villa this month, but I really can’t get away. However, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t go. Take Zoë and Spyder with you for company, I’m happy to pay their fares.’

‘
You don’t have to do that, I can pay for them,’ said Lucy, adding sadly, ‘I’m a wealthy woman now, you know.’

Nestling into a lush green hillside the Villa de Larniano looked out over an Umbrian landscape unchanged for centuries. The view was patterned with the serried ro
ws of vineyards, ancient olive groves and sunflower fields, and etched with stands of cypresses and umbrella pines. Azure blue, verdant green, ochre and terracotta; the countryside’s palette of colours shone vibrantly in the force of the mid-August heat.

Spyder had barely got through the door, and certainly not lingered long enough to unpack properly, before he was to be seen galloping towards the swimming pool. Lucy and Zoë laughed at the sight of his oversized trunks flapping gaily around his long, thin and extremely white legs. Plunging into the deep end he came up coughing and spluttering, but smiling broadly. He flipped onto his back and
, floating contentedly, announced he was in paradise. It wasn’t long before the two girls joined him.

They took it in turns to drive the jeep, borrowing cushions from the kitchen chairs to enable Zoë to see over the steering wheel. Together they explored the
Tiber river valley with its wealth of medieval towns, monasteries and castles. Speaking to the locals in their halting Italian they were delighted to be understood, but then thrown into laughing confusion at the rapid-fire replies they had no chance of comprehending. They trawled the bustling markets for local delicacies which Lucia, Marcus’s cook and housekeeper, turned into the wonderful meals they ate on the bougainvillea clad terrace.

The afternoons spent by the pool deepened Lucy’s tan to an enviable bronze and gave Zoë a rosy glow but it was Spyder who was the surprise. His milky whiteness
quickly gave way to a light golden tan and blonde streaks appeared in his hair giving him, to Zoë’s eye, a sun-kissed surfer look and making her fancy him all over again. The days passed quickly as they do when you are busy doing nothing. They sat long into the nights, chatting idly and admiring the hundreds of bright stars in a sky so different from the light-polluted London.

Towards the end of their stay, as they sat back contentedly after demolishing huge plates of Lucia’s delicious Pollo alla Boscaiola washed down by copious amounts of wine from the neighbouring vineyard, Zoë commented for probably the fiftieth time,
‘Well, this is the life!’

‘
Certainly is,’ agreed Spyder, smacking his lips appreciatively. ‘Just think, Luce, you’re about to sign up for a lifetime of this sort of thing. We hope you won’t go forgetting your mates when there are more fabulous freebies on offer.’

Lucy assured them she wouldn’t, but in fact they had both paid their own way on this trip insisting neither of them were so skint they needed to be subsidised.

‘Did you ever imagine you would end up marrying an indecently rich man, become a Ladyship, and live a life of pampered indolence?’ Zoë asked curiously.

Lucy laughed.
‘You make it sound positively criminal! But no, I never did.’

‘
If that flight hadn’t been delayed none of this would have happened,’ mused Zoë.

Lucy nodded in agreement.
‘I know, I often think about that and wonder what I would be doing if I hadn’t met Marcus.’

‘
It’s fate,’ announced Zoë. ‘Fate dished you up a sophisticated millionaire, and look at what I got!’

The two girls looked fondly at the long, gangly figure of Spyder resplendent in decrepit trainers, multi-coloured Bermuda shorts and a tee-shirt bearing the legend, ‘All grown up and still fascinated by nipples‘.

Leaning back with his straw sun hat pulled down over his eyes he had appeared to be dozing, but now he retorted in injured tones, ‘I heard that! Zoë, I’m sorry that you think fate has once more vomited on your duvet. I shall not now trouble you with the offer of my fair hand in marriage as I had been planning.’

‘
What!’ squeaked Zoë in astonishment. ‘You don’t mean it?’

‘
Well, I did,’ replied her beau regretfully, ‘but I can see now it would have been futile.’

‘
Oh no you don’t! You’re not getting out of it now.’ Zoë leapt out of her chair and on top of the laughing Spyder whilst shrieking, ‘Yes, I accept, I accept!’

Lucy looked on, her happiness for her friends tinged with envy. She had thought Marcus might call her while she was away, perhaps surprise her by turning up for the last few days. But nothing. Was he missing her at all she wondered?

~

On the bed, in the jacuzzi, against the wall, on the floor, Marcus made love to Cherry almost every night of Lucy’s absence. He returned home in the early hours of the morning sated, but unable to sleep easy.

He had no problem rationalising what he was doing. Cherry was a professional, a specialist, and he regarded his time with her as therapy. And what Lucy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. No, it wasn’t guilt that kept him awake, it was fear. Fear of losing control. Not in the way he had with Jenny all those years ago; over the past month he had proven to himself repeatedly that sex was no longer linked with dominance or pain. He was afraid of losing control of his feelings for Lucy, and the upper hand in their relationship. He had wanted an attractive, malleable wife who would look good on his arm and give him a son and heir, but it was not working out how he had planned. Sweet Lucy was stealing his heart. He longed to make love to her, but knew that if he did he would be lost.

He was in love with a girl young enough to be his daughter. One who did not return the sentiment and probably never would. How could that end in anything but disaster? This marriage couldn’t possibly work, he knew that now. He could not spend his life with Lucy, watching, waiting. Always afraid she would meet someone. Always hiding his love. He could not do what
Helena had done for so many years.

~

The two women hugged each other warmly, and then standing back Ellen gave Lucy an appraising look.

‘
You’re looking wonderful, sweetie. Did you have a good time in Italy?’

Lucy smiled.
‘It was great. It’s so beautiful there, and Zoë and Spyder were such good company. You can’t help but be cheerful with those two around.’

‘
I was sorry to hear about your gran. I know you were close.’

‘
Thanks,’ said Lucy with a little sigh. ‘I know no one lives for ever but I sort of thought she would.’

Ellen gave a sympathetic head tilt.
‘Kit told me about the money too. Is it going to change things for you? With Marcus, I mean?’

‘
Yes, no, perhaps. I’m really not sure, Ellen.’

A waiter came into the bar to let them know there was a free table, and it was not until they were seated that Lucy tried to give a more coherent answer.

‘When I heard about Gran’s money my first thought was it would give me the chance to live a completely independent life, but then I realised I didn’t actually want to give Marcus up.’

Ellen smiled knowingly.
‘You’ve fallen in love with him!’

‘
No,’ denied Lucy. And then continued less certainly, ‘Well, I’m not exactly sure how I feel about him, but he is important to me. And I do so much want a family and someone who I can rely on.’

‘
So what’s the problem?’

‘
It’s still the physical thing.’

Ellen rolled her eyes and Lucy told her wearily,
‘I know, I know. I really thought I was making some progress, but then Gran died and I went away. Things just seemed to go off the boil somehow. I’ve been home nearly two weeks now and we’re back to square one. In fact I think he tries even harder not to put himself in a position where something could happen. The daft thing is that I know he wants me, it’s written all over him sometimes. I just don’t understand what’s going on. Ellen, we’re supposed to be getting married at the end of next month and I don’t know what to do. Help me!’

‘
There’s no need to panic, Lucy,’ her friend told her soothingly. ‘It’s just a glitch. Marcus probably doesn’t think it’s a good time to make a move, with you just having had a bereavement. As you say, it was coming along nicely and I’m sure you’ll soon be back on track.’

‘
Do you really think so?’ Lucy asked hopefully while winding a strand of hair around her finger with almost manic determination.

‘
Yes, I really do. Now stop fiddling with your hair like a halfwit and tell me about the wedding. How are the arrangements going?’

‘
Oh, Marcus has it all under control of course. It’s a civil ceremony here in town with a reception at a very smart hotel. He consults me occasionally, but there doesn’t seem much for me to do except buy a dress.’

‘
Well that’s the fun bit,’ smiled Ellen, and then added very casually, ‘Simon has asked me to marry him. Several times actually.’

‘
Ellen!’ exclaimed Lucy. ‘I feel awful, sitting here wittering on about myself when you have such exciting news. Have you said yes?’

‘
Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time.’

~

With her head bowed over a silver cigarette case that was to be engraved, Lucy appeared to be engrossed in her work, but her hands didn’t move. In her mind she was going over the previous evening’s conversation with Ellen, and wishing she shared in her friend’s confidence concerning Marcus. She had returned from Italy refreshed, energised and positive about the future. Whilst doubting that she would ever stop missing Elizabeth, life did go on, and she knew how much her grandmother had approved of her forthcoming marriage.

However, things had not gone well since she came home. Marcus seemed distant, as if he had taken two steps back from her, and try as she might she could not bridge the gap. She could not put her finger on it, but he had changed in some way and the beginnings of any closeness between them had disappeared. Not a promising state of affairs only weeks before the wedding.

Again, or perhaps as always, she didn’t know her own mind and was exasperated with herself. She had been so determined to take control of her life, make her own decisions, do exactly what she wanted, but it wasn’t working. It was pathetic, she was pathetic, and she had to stop just going round in circles. She had to get a grip of herself and decide once and for all if she was going to go ahead with the wedding.

It wasn’t until she spoke that Lucy realised there was someone standing in the doorway.

‘Hello there, I’m looking for a special gift and a friend said you’d be a good place to start.’

Lucy had always considered Ellen the most beautiful woman she had ever met, but her visitor had a face so lovely you wanted to keep drinking it in. Gathering her thoughts together, and trying not to stare, she gave a welcoming smile and said,
‘Come on in. What sort of thing were you thinking of?’

‘
It’s for my boyfriend, we’ve just got back together – yet again – and I wanted to give him something to mark the occasion. I’m really hoping we can work things out this time.’

Her voice was wistful, and Lucy thought if a woman like this has troubles with her man then what chance do we lesser mortals have?

Crossing to the workbench, the tall blonde asked, ‘Is this a cigarette case? It’s very stylish. Just the sort of thing he would like. Would you be able to engrave an inscription?’

Lucy showed her several different versions of the case, explaining how initials could be incorporated on the front and an inscription on the back. She chose an elegant Art Deco design which was Lucy’s own favourite. Rather than his alone, she wanted both their initials entwined on the lid. C for Charles and R for Rachael. The dedication was t
o be, “We are two halves of one”. Smiling almost shyly, she said, ‘Life and love are complicated, aren’t they?’

‘
You can say that again!’

Rachael laughed.
‘That was said with feeling, I sense a kindred spirit!’ Looking at her watch she went on, ‘It’s almost lunch time, let me buy you a drink and we can compare notes.’

September
, when summer so often quickly fades to autumn, had brought no drop in the temperatures and the day was hot and airless like so many before it. They sat in the small garden of a pub overlooking the lock, but there was no breeze coming off the water.

‘
Judging by the size of that diamond the man in your life is at least generous,’ commented Rachael.

‘
Yes,’ agreed Lucy. ‘He’s very generous.’

‘
And rich?’

‘
Very rich.’

‘
How did you meet him?’

‘
In an airport of all places. I was fleeing one tangled relationship and walked straight into another one!’

‘
And were you in love with the man you were leaving?’ Rachael asked.

‘
Oh yes,’ sighed Lucy. ‘I loved him alright.’

‘
And now?’

‘
Now it’s in the past.’