Wicked Pleasures (56 page)

‘Good. And how’s Mrs Praeger elect?’

‘Oh, I like that! Say it again!’

‘Mrs Praeger elect.’

‘She’s fine too. Not really even very sick. Happy. Happy you’re here.’

‘I’m happy I’m here. It’s much nicer here than in New York. I’m living at the Sherry Netherland and it’s hell. I might try the Plaza next week.’

‘Now look,’ said Angie, taking the glass from him and setting it down, ‘we only have a few days. We don’t want to waste them discussing the rival merits of New York hotels.’

‘I guess not,’ said Baby. He looked younger, more self-confident as he pulled her in beside him.

Later they went for a walk on Primrose Hill, then drove into London, saw
Superman II
(Angie had a passion for Christopher Reeve which Baby said verged on the insulting), had an early dinner and went back to bed. Even that had definitely improved, Angie noticed.

‘This isn’t bad for Junior is it?’ he said anxiously, as her noisy orgasm faded and she quietened beneath him.

‘No. Well, Mr Fisher did say to be a little careful. To avoid times when I would have had my period. This is absolutely not one of them.’

‘Are you sure? I’d hate to lose him now.’

‘I’m sure.’

‘Good. Christ, I love you.’ He turned to look at her. ‘I still can’t believe I’ve done it. It’s so wonderful, not to be hiding.’

‘I told you.’

‘I know. Now look, what are we going to do? Now that I’m at least struggling to make an honest woman of you, would you consider moving to New York?’

‘Of course I’d certainly consider it.’ Angie waited, hauling her courage up. This was it. There wasn’t going to be a better moment. And if she failed, well, it wasn’t the end of the world. It would just be more comfortable, easier for her, if she could get him to agree.

‘Baby – I really do think you might consider moving to London. With Praegers, of course.’

She didn’t mention it all next day. He had said Praegers certainly might be opening a London office, that he was personally quite keen on the idea, although Fred was less sure, but that in any case he wouldn’t be in it. Angie asked him whyever not, and he had said slightly shortly that his place was in New York, running the bank. Angie, knowing that he did nothing of the sort in New York, left the matter for the time being. It obviously wasn’t going to be at all easy; Baby seemed uncharacteristically irritated by her interest in the whole thing.

In the morning they lay in bed until late, chatting over the papers, then went into London for lunch at the Ritz.

‘Nowhere nicer than the Ritz on Sunday,’ said Angie. ‘And all that exercise has made me hungry.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ said Baby, ‘I still think you should be a bit more restrained.’

‘With you in the bed?’ said Angie, kissing him. ‘Impossible.’

They had just ordered lunch when Baby suddenly stiffened.

‘What’s the matter?’ said Angie.

‘Oh – nothing. It’s perfectly all right. I keep forgetting I don’t have to worry about it any more. About people seeing us.’

‘What people have you seen?’

‘My nephew. Max. Look over there, with that extremely beautiful girl.’

‘Where? Oh, my goodness,’ said Angie, ‘he’s fairly extremely beautiful himself.’

Max was sitting at one of the small corner tables, holding the hand of a small dark girl with exquisite features. As people do, he suddenly became aware of being watched; he turned his head, saw Baby and grinned, said something to the girl and got up and walked over to their table.

‘Uncle Baby. What a nice surprise. How are you?’

‘I’m extremely well, thank you, Max. Can I introduce a friend? Angela Burbank. Angie, my nephew, Max Hadleigh.’ There was a silence. Max looked down at Angie, and Angie looked up at Max. He was wearing a pair of black cord trousers and a white shirt, a black sweater knotted casually round his shoulders; he pushed his blond hair back from his blue eyes, and smiled at her, a languid, careless smile. He was patently very aware both of the way he looked and of what her reaction would be. Angie’s eyes took him in, all the arrogant young self-conscious sexuality of him, and she reacted deep within her body, in a hot, liquid sweetness that surprised and pleased her with its violence; then she pulled herself together. This was no way for a nearly married woman to feel. She smiled quickly and took his outstretched hand.

‘Max! How nice to meet you.’

‘How do you do,’ said Max, and while the well-brought-up boy shook her hand, the man’s eyes moved shamelessly and appreciatively over first her face, then her body.

‘How long are you here for, Uncle Baby?’ he said, breaking the slightly awkward silence.

‘Oh – only a few days.’

‘Business I suppose?’ said Max. There was an insolence in the polite voice that made Angie want to slap him.

‘Yes,’ said Baby shortly. ‘Er – how’s your father?’

‘Alexander’s fine,’ said Max. ‘Thank you.’

‘And Georgina?’

‘She’s great.’

‘Charlotte’s enjoying herself, I think,’ said Baby.

‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ said Max. ‘She says this guy Gabe is giving her a pretty hard time.’

‘I’m sorry about that,’ said Baby, genuinely concerned.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Max cheerfully, ‘somebody should. My sister Charlotte,’ he said to Angie, ‘is a straight cross between Matron and Head Girl.
Very bossy indeed. Oh, hi Claudia. This is Claudia Grossman. Claudia, this is my uncle, Baby Praeger, and a friend of his, Angie Burbank. Claudia’s a model. Like me,’ he added with a touch of childlike pride.

‘Hallo, Claudia,’ said Angie. ‘Nice to meet you. Models, huh?’

‘Yes, I’m off to Florida tomorrow on a job,’ said Max. ‘To Key West to be precise.’

‘Oh, I forgot,’ said Claudia, carefully ignoring Baby and Angie, ‘the agency asked me to tell you. You’re not going to Key West after all. You’re staying in Miami.’

Max scowled.

‘Shit. That’s all I need.’

He looked very upset; disproportionately, Angie thought.

‘Miami’s OK,’ she said, ‘they have some great restaurants. And shops. And the Everglades are fun.’

‘I think it’s a dump,’ said Max. ‘I’ve been there before.’

‘Well, the Keys are nicer. That’s for sure. But it isn’t far. There’s an airport at Key West, even. You could fly down in half an hour. Take a day off. I’m sure the agency won’t mind.’

‘I expect they would,’ said Max. ‘But thanks for the information anyway.’ He smiled at her, then at Baby. ‘Well, it’s really nice to –’

‘Come on, Max,’ said Claudia. She looked more bored than ever. ‘Our food is getting cold.’

‘Cheers, Max,’ said Baby. ‘Give my regards to your dad.’

‘What a charming girl,’ said Angie, looking after them, and then slightly sharply at Baby.

‘Yup. Pretty though.’

‘So is your nephew. Funny kind of career for a lord.’

‘I guess so. Alexander certainly hates it. You never met Max then?’

‘No, he was just a twinkle in Virginia’s eye when I left England. My goodness, aren’t we getting old?’

‘Some of us older than others. Could Junior handle a little more champagne?’

‘Could you just stay there a moment,’ said the radiologist. ‘I’d just like to get Mr Fisher in to have a look at this.’

‘Have a look at what?’ said Angie. She was lying in the X-ray department of the Princess Grace, with her stomach covered in oil, having her first ultrasound done. ‘There isn’t a problem, is there?’

‘Absolutely not,’ said the radiologist. She was a fresh-faced girl with rosy cheeks, and looked as if she had been captain of games at her school. ‘I promise there isn’t. Just a bit of a funny position, and I can’t quite see everything. No, your baby’s moving around and the right size and everything. Don’t worry. Hang on a minute, I’ll see if I can find Mr Fisher.’

Angie lay, her heart beating rather fast. If there was something wrong with this baby, if she was going to lose it, if it had died, she really didn’t think she could bear it. Everything was going so well; too well maybe. She stared at the
tiny screen, blank now, wondering what on earth it had revealed, what could have made it so necessary for Mr Fisher to have a look at it. Surely at this stage you couldn’t detect abnormality, could you? Might it be that? She had an idea that spina bifida showed up on the ultrasound. God, a deformed baby. She had been so afraid she was too old. Well, she wouldn’t, she couldn’t go ahead with that. She suddenly and rather surprisingly wished Baby was here, out in the waiting room with the other fathers. She had never thought of him as a source of strength, rather the reverse, but now that it was his baby that was under threat she wanted him very badly. But he was three thousand miles away.

She stared at the ceiling, the walls, she counted the tiles, the lights, the robes hanging behind the door. Why was Mr Fisher being so long? Was the radiologist telling him some dreadful thing she’d found, and they were debating how to tell her? Was he furiously looking some problem, some condition up in a book, something so rare that even he wasn’t able to put a name to it? Was he having a quick drink, to get the courage to confront her? Five more minutes of this and she’d scream. She would count to sixty, five times, and then she’d scream very loudly.

She had just got to sixty for the third time when the door opened and the radiologist and Mr Fisher came in. They smiled at her.

‘Feeling all right, Miss Burbank?’ said Mr Fisher.

‘Well I was,’ said Angie crossly, ‘until I was left lying here, worried to death.’

Mr Fisher patted her hand. ‘Nothing to worry about, I promise you. Now let’s have another look, Sarah. Ah yes. Yes, that’s very interesting. Quite right. Clever girl.’

‘Oh for God’s sake,’ said Angie. ‘What is it?’

Mr Fisher came to the side of the bed again and took her hand, giving her his smoothest, most self-congratulatory smile. ‘Feeling strong, Miss Burbank? You’re going to need to be. You’re having twins.’

‘Baby? This is Angie. Yes I know you’re in a meeting. I don’t give a shit. Listen, I have something really important to tell you. Really important. Baby, be quiet and listen. I’m – that is we’re – having twins. Yes, I said twins. Of course I’m sure. I just saw them for myself on the ultrasound screen. What? No I don’t know what sex they are. What does it matter? The thing is, Baby, I really do feel I need you. More than ever. Can you come over soon? I don’t know why, but I’m scared. All right, call me back. But don’t be too long.’

It hadn’t been entirely untrue. She was, if not scared, very thoughtful. Having one baby had seemed like fun; having two looked extremely daunting. Being pregnant with two was going to be awful (she was so small and she would have to get so big); and as for giving birth to two – God! Angie, who was physically quite brave, shrank from the thought. And then equipping a nursery for two, hiring a nanny – or would it be nannies – for two, getting around with two. Difficult. She paced the house. She didn’t know what she was going to do. But she needed Baby and she needed him in London, and not in some bloody hostile city across the Atlantic.

Baby sat looking at her rather helplessly.

‘Angie, darling, I can perfectly understand how you feel. And I have to say I am feeling fairly – well, nervous, myself.’

‘Oh great!’ said Angie testily. Baby ignored this.

‘But I have to be in New York. I can’t be in London. I really can’t. I will make a home for you there, we’ll be together all the time, I’m not reneging on any agreement, but I can’t leave New York. And Praegers. I can’t.’

‘I’m not asking you to leave Praegers. I’m asking you to bring Praegers to London. Like every other sensible American bank.’

‘Angie, I don’t know how you got this idea into your head, but I do assure you every other sensible American bank is not coming to London.’

‘Did you discuss it even?’

‘I told you, we already talked about it. A lot more, as it happens. My father still feels that it’s not a good idea. He says everyone thinks they’re going to get a ninety per cent share of the market, and that even that isn’t going to be very much.’

‘Oh, your father. What do you think?’

‘I agree with him.’

‘Well my goodness gracious me!’

‘Oh for God’s sake. And Angie, even if Praegers did come to London, I certainly wouldn’t be coming with it. It would be run by one of the senior partners. I’ve told you. Angie, I don’t tell you how to run your company. Please don’t try and tell me how to run mine.’ He smiled at her slightly nervously. ‘Now look, darling, I have lots of details of apartments and duplexes and even triplexes here. You run through them, and I’ll go and see them all and report back.’

‘Baby, I don’t want to go to New York. I don’t want to have this – these – babies in New York. Mr Fisher is here. My hospital is here. I’m scared, Baby, and I want to feel safe.’ She willed the tears up; Baby looked at her helplessly.

‘Angie, I’m sorry. Terribly sorry. But I –’

‘Oh fuck off,’ said Angie, turning away from him. ‘Just fuck off back to New York, Baby. I’m getting very very tired of this conversation. It seems to be going on for ever.’

‘It does to me as well,’ said Baby.

Angie stared at him. He didn’t often stand up to her. She wasn’t sure that she liked it very much.