‘OK.’ Drew chucked the carrier bags back into the car. ‘But we must be careful.’
‘Hi,’ said Violet, who was emptying the cream intended for the passion fruit salad into the potatoes and reading about Rupert in the
‘They won’t,’ said Drew. ‘Rupert was always the wild card in that consortium. The IBA won’t like his escapades one bit. I spoke to Bas before I left Dubai this morning. Rupert’s in a frightful stew, tried to resign from Venturer, but Declan and Bas won’t let him, saying they’ve got to stick together, but I reckon he’s cooked their goose. Poor Rupert.’
Drew expressed sympathy but didn’t feel it. Rupert, arrogant enough to think himself above the law, had always been flagrantly indiscreet because he’d never cared what people thought. Drew believed that discretion was much the better part of valour and the only way of having your cake and eating it.
‘Rupert’s dead attractive.’ Violet added half a pound of unsalted butter to the potatoes. ‘And it’s not as though he’s married now. I think it’s disgusting married men playing around, but Rupert’s been single for ages.’
She turned to Daisy who hadn’t had time to put on any make-up. ‘You look exhausted, Mum. I’ll put the potato on top of the fish pie. You go and have a drink with Drew.’
Taking the bottle of Moet from Daisy, Drew followed her into the sitting room where Daisy’s apple logs had nearly gone out.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she moaned, noticing that Drew, after a week in temperatures of more than 100°, was shivering like a whippet.
Crouching down in front of the fireplace she pulled four more firelighters out of their packet and, shoving them under the logs, started frantically to puff.
‘What a stupid mess, I couldn’t get in touch with you. Did you win?’
‘Lost one, won two,’ said Drew, filling up three glasses and taking one into Violet. Returning, he waited until he could hear the crash of the potato masher on the bottom of the pan, then said, ‘Let me help you.’
Kneeling down, he put his hands under Daisy’s skirt and encountered bare Daisy. ‘Jesus Christ!’
Daisy gave a muffled squawk. ‘I didn’t have time to put any pants on. Violet arrived as I was getting out of the bath.’
Slowly Drew ran his hand over her generous buttocks, then slid it between them to her still damp bush.
‘No! Violet! We mustn’t,’ gasped Daisy.
‘She’s only got to page two of the memoirs,’ murmured Drew. ‘Three to go. Shut up and enjoy it.’
Daisy could feel his breath on the back of her neck, as gently, assuredly, his fingering continued.
‘All right, Violet?’ gasped Daisy a minute later.
‘Fine, thanks.’
Drew propped the drawing-room door shut with his back as, with trembling hands, Daisy unzipped his flies and slid her mouth over the rampant red fireman’s helmet. It was over in ten seconds.
‘Oh, goodness, your cock’ll smell of firelighters,’ said Daisy collapsing on to the sofa.
‘Come on baby, light my fire,’ said Drew, handing her her glass.
‘That was crazy,’ mumbled Daisy as the apple logs sprung into merry flame.
‘But incredibly nice,’ said Drew, sitting down close to her. ‘Very Rupert sort of behaviour.’
‘Is he OK?’
‘Not at all. Crucified he’s let Venturer down and worried sick about the effect the memoirs are going to have on the children. Worst of all he’s now decided he’s madly in love with Declan’s daughter, Taggie, and there’s no way now Declan’ll ever let him marry her.’ He put a hand on Daisy’s thigh. ‘When’s Violet going?’
‘Tomorrow early.’
‘I’ll pop back mid-morning. Sukey’s not back till the afternoon. Christ, that fish pie smells good. I didn’t have any lunch.’ He kicked open the door slightly. ‘You OK, Violet?’
Violet came in hanging her head.
‘Oh, Mum, I was so busy reading about Rupert I’ve eaten all the mashed potato and all the scallops out of the fish pie.’
‘Oh, darling,’ wailed Daisy. ‘Never mind, there’s a packet of Smash in the cupboard.’
‘There was,’ admitted Violet, ‘but two moths and a bluebottle flew out so I threw it away.’
Drew fortunately thought it was funny. ‘I’ll take you both out to dinner.’
I love him, thought Daisy, in passionate gratitude, imagining the scene Hamish would have made. She knew Drew had said he couldn’t leave Sukey, but she could still hope.
Contrary to every expectation Venturer won the franchise.
‘And you’ll never guess what,’ said Drew when he rang to tell Daisy. ‘Rupert’s getting married to Taggie O’Hara. I’m going to be an usher and I’ve persuaded her to commission you to paint Rupert’s old Olympic horse Rocky as a wedding present. Can you do it in a week?’
‘I’ll try,’ said Daisy. ‘You
‘I’ll smuggle you into the house while Rupert’s in London and there are masses of photographs. And I’ve got you an invite to the wedding. It’ll be the thrash of the century. Cotchester Cathedral first, then back to Rupert’s. He’ll pay for everything because Declan’s flat broke, but he’s so happy he’d buy Taggie the sun and the moon.’
‘D’you like her?’
‘Adorable and virtually untouched by human hand. She must be nearly twenty years younger than Rupert, lucky sod.’
Then, realizing what he’d said, ‘And you look about twelve, my darling. Anyway I’ve always been attracted to older women.’
‘I love you,’ sighed Daisy gratefully. ‘Can I really come to the wedding? What ought I to wear?’
‘I’ll take you into Bath and buy you something. The crumpet will be astonishing so you’ve got to look stunning.’
As Sukey had been nagging him about over-spending all week, he would take perverse pleasure in blueing her money on Daisy.
42
Not since the Civil War when it had been a Royalist stronghold, which only yielded to the Roundheads after a long and bloody battle, had the sleepy market town of Cotchester witnessed such scenes of mayhem. Police had been bused in from all over the West of England to control the crowds who, despite driving snow and bitter East winds, had turned up to catch a glimpse of Rupert and his bride. The media, who almost outnumbered the crowd, were going berserk because Rupert had banned them from the cathedral and refused, to the rage of his mother and his mother-in-law, even to allow the wedding service to be privately videoed. ‘We are not fucking film stars and the only record we need of this marriage is Tag’s wedding ring.’
Dusk had fallen and the snow turned to sleet as Daisy arrived. There were such traffic jams in the High Street that she was frightened she might be late. She was also slightly apprehensive about the clothes Drew had bought her which consisted of a black velvet blazer printed with big pale pink roses, black velvet knickerbockers, a white frilled shirt and black buckled shoes. She had added a bright pink cummerbund and tied her hair back with a black satin bow.
But all her nerves disappeared when the first person she saw was Drew holding a vast blue-and-green umbrella over the Tory Leader and her husband as they progressed to loud cheers and the popping of hundreds of flashbulbs through the great doors of the cathedral. Next minute Basil Baddingham, a wonderfully elongated figure with his red-and-yellow umbrella bucking in the wind like a spinnaker sail, dived forward to shield Daisy from the blizzard. ‘Darling, you look so sexy, just like Dick Turpin. Bags I be Black Bess.’
Daisy giggled. The flash bulbs popped.
