communication with Mom.’
‘Bibi is going to lose that good-looking boy if she’s not careful,’ said Red as they drove home. ‘He’s already catting around with that blonde cook who looks as though cocks wouldn’t melt in her mouth.’
But Perdita wasn’t listening. Sick with churning fear, she was thinking that if Grace put a private detective on to her, in no time he’d find out about her being illegitimate or worse.
Next week the Aldertons won the Fathers and Sons match, annihilating the Van Dorens by forty goals to five, which presaged well for the coming season.
Christmas in Palm Beach was extremely fraught. Everyone missed Luke. Easy-going, imperturbable, prepared to see the funny side of practically anything, he had been a genius at defusing rows. Red and Perdita being so extravagantly in love seemed to unhinge Chessie. Her temper was not improved on Christmas Day when a vast JCB, wrapped in red ribbon and decorated with holly, was delivered to Alderton Towers.
‘Dear Chessie, to help you with your gold digging,’ said the note inside, ‘Yours never, Red.’
Nor was Angel particularly amused when Bibi gave him a green Lamborghini. She kept him short, humiliated him by refusing to pay his gambling debts, and then expected him to be grateful for a bloody car.
His best present in fact was a small oblong envelope from Bart. Inside was a US passport. A senator friend of Bart’s had pulled strings. This meant that at last Angel could circumnavigate the ban on Argentines and play in England.
‘Thank you,’ Angel embraced a father-in-law he normally detested. ‘I am damn Yanqui now.’
‘You’re gonna help me bury Apocalypse,’ said Bart in an undertone.
‘You can play for America in the International,’ said Chessie in delight.
‘You could even play for them in the Westchester if Bas and Rupert do really revive it in the autumn,’ said Perdita.
But Angel was miles away, thinking of Pedro at the bottom of the icy South Atlantic. The fish would have picked his bones clean by now and Angel had another bone to pick with a poker-faced British officer. At last he was going to England to take out Drew Benedict.
57
Daisy Macleod, on the other hand, longed and longed to be taken out by Drew Benedict. Now he was earning serious money playing polo he was spending more time abroad and Daisy saw far less of him. But he assured her good times lay ahead once he was financially independent of Sukey.
Daisy was also low because she blamed herself entirely for Perdita’s defection. If only she hadn’t conceived Perdita at Jackie’s orgy, if she’d been a more forceful mother and hadn’t let Perdita run wild, if she’d told Perdita the truth earlier and been able to hold on to Hamish, if she hadn’t been distracted by falling in love with Drew.
Since Perdita had run off with Red she had rung her mother twice, the first time from Kenya to say she was deliriously happy, the second to boast about the Fathers and Sons match and Ferranti’s paying her a fortune. But when Daisy had reproached her gently for hurting Luke and walking out on Venturer and Apocalypse, Perdita had hung up and cut off all lines of communication.
One of the highlights for Daisy, therefore, of a long, cold winter was a surprise party for Ricky’s thirty-second birthday in the middle of February. Louisa had lured him away to look at a pony which turned out to be an absolute dog. Returning irritably home to Robinsgrove, he found a rip-roaring party in full swing with every light blazing, drink from Bas’s wine bar flowing and live music provided by Dancer and Apocalypse pounding down the valley. Taggie Campbell-Black had produced the most succulent home-made ravioli stuffed with lobster puree and braised quails, served with fresh mangoes flown specially down from Harrods. To hide how touched he was, Ricky was absolutely furious. But gradually he and the great gloomy house he inhabited responded almost joyously to the intrusion.
Daisy was bitterly disappointed that Drew couldn’t make it and very embarrassed about her present; everyone else’s were so much more exciting. Only after several drinks did she drag Seb Carlisle, who’d been bopping with a six-foot inflatable rubber doll he’d had gift-wrapped for Ricky, into the study.
‘Alone at last,’ whooped Seb, grabbing her. ‘You and I and Dolly can have a threesome.’
Giggling, Daisy wriggled free. ‘I’ve done a portrait for Ricky. Will you look at it and promise to tell me if you think he’ll be upset?’
‘I’m the one who’s upset, you keep spurning me,’ grumbled Seb, unwrapping the red crepe paper. ‘Christ! that is absolutely stunning. How the hell did you get such a likeness? It’s Will to a T.’
He traced the thick flaxen hair and the dark slanting eyes with one finger. ‘He was such a gorgeous child. Ricky will go apeshit.’
‘Are you sure he won’t be hurt by it?’
‘
Shaking, Daisy took a great gulp of champagne. Rutshire Polo Club’s fixture list for next year was already up on the wall. Ricky came in looking boot-faced. He detested people invading his private sanctum.
‘I don’t want presents. I can’t think why everyone’s bothered.’ The words died on his lips as he picked up the picture.
‘I’ll quite understand if you want to throw it on the fire,’ gabbled Daisy.
Ricky just gazed and gazed at it and said nothing, then he shook his head in disbelief, tried to speak and found he was quite unable.
‘I’m sorry,’ mumbled Daisy. ‘Give it back to me.’
‘No, no, it’s beautiful, w-w-wonderful, so like him. I can’t begin to tell you what it mm-m-means. I had no record. I’ve b-b-been haunted by not remembering what he looked like.’
Daisy, in her delighted confusion, frantically stroked Little Chef who’d bounded in after Ricky, wearing a red, white and blue bow. Glancing up, she was amazed to see Ricky’s eyes wet with tears.
‘How the hell did you do it?’
‘I was leafing through those old polo books you lent me for a picture of the Rutshire before the war, and Will’s photo fell out. I’ve got it for you at home.’
‘I don’t know how to b-b-begin to thank you.’
‘Or us you,’ mumbled Daisy, ‘for letting us stay on at Snow Cottage.’
Later in the evening Rupert took Daisy aside.
‘That’s a bloody good picture of Will. Ricky is beside himself. Now all we’ve got to do is persuade Victor Kaputnik to invent a cure for Chessie.’
Daisy found Rupert so incredibly glamorous and shy-making that she always talked rubbish in his presence.
‘Wonderful food,’ she mumbled. ‘Taggie is
‘It’s through his heart,’ said Rupert quite sharply.
There was a pause, then he said, ‘Cameron Cook’s flying out to Palm Beach with a crew next week to film Perdita in the Rolex Cup. I hope she’s not going to be bolshy. You heard from her?’
Daisy shook her head miserably. ‘She doesn’t answer letters, and hangs up if I try and ring her.’
‘I was just as impossible at her age,’ said Rupert more gently. ‘She’ll come round.’
All the time Daisy was aware of him watching Taggie who was now rather tentatively asking people if they’d like chocolate roulade or raspberry bombe.
‘She’s so beautiful,’ sighed Daisy.
Rupert’s face softened. ‘She is, isn’t she? The nightmare is trying to stop her doing too much. Look,’ he lowered his voice, ‘Helen, my first wife, painted the nursery the most appalling jaundice-yellow. It’s just been repainted. If I manage to lure Tag away for a long weekend, would you be able to slap on some flowers and birds and butterflies and perhaps the odd horse and dog for a surprise when she comes back?’
