Dirty Aristocrat

by Georgia Le Carre

  With cat-like quiet, I lifted my tracksuit and running shoes out of the wardrobe and dressed quickly in the living room. Without making any noise I let myself out of the apartment. While I ran I tried to think. I really, really did. For a whole hour I tried, but my mind wouldn’t function properly. I kept wanting desperately to believe that I had made a mistake. There was no motive. He didn’t need my money.

  He had a private plane for God’s sake.

  Besides, I trusted Robert and he told me again and again that Ivan was the only one I could trust. Another voice in my head said, Robert constructed a will that left me open to Ivan’s total control. If he had not made me Ivan’s ward I would never be here and married to Ivan.

  By the time I returned I was no less bewildered or shocked. Ivan was already out of the shower.

  ‘Good run?’ he asked, and for the first time I saw him without my rose tinted glasses. He was hiding something big. He had been for a long time, but I was so caught up with him not finding out my secrets. I never took the time to examine the things that didn’t sit right about him. It was always there, in the background and almost undetectable, but there all the same. Even now I saw it. The only time it was not there was when we were in bed having sex.

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ I even managed a smile. ‘Want some coffee and some toast?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  I nodded and went to the kitchen. I was arranging the slices of toast in the toast rack when he appeared, knotting his tie in the doorway.

  ‘I’ve got to run. Something’s come up,’ he said.

  ‘No breakfast?’

  ‘I’ll just take that coffee.’

  I carried the mug and held it out to him.

  He took a sip. ‘What will you do today?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t know yet. I might go into work.’

  ‘Good. So I’ll see you tonight. Maybe we can go out to dinner or something.’

  ‘Yes. That’ll be nice,’ I said. I knew my voice sounded wooden, but I couldn’t help myself. I never was good at pretending. What you see is what you get with me.

  He took another sip and put the coffee mug down. ‘Right. I’m off.’

  After a quick, hard peck on my lips he was gone. I touched my lips. God! I still wanted him. What was wrong with me? What an awful mess I was in.

  I took the mug and poured the remaining coffee into the sink. Almost on autopilot I opened the dishwasher and placed it inside. Still on autopilot I crossed the living room and went towards his study. I opened the door and stood for moment at the threshold.

  There was hardly anything on his table, just a few papers. I approached it and glanced at them. A report about some Chinese town, a development of some kind. I went around the desk, sat on his chair and opened the drawers. The first one had odds and ends. The second had files. The middle drawer had stationery.

  The first drawer on the left-hand side made me pause. It was locked. I knew where the key was. I’d seen where he hid it. I ran out into the hallway and checked a small decorative bowl. It was at the bottom. I took the key and ran back to open the drawer.

  There was a crumpled letter in it. I put it on the desk and straightened it out. It was a letter from the bank. I stared at it in disbelief. It cannot be. It just cannot be. I blinked and re-read it.

  Jesus Christ.

  The bank was recalling one of their loans for twenty million pounds. There were other letters too. Some had been torn open and other remained unopened but they all carried the same return address. With shaking hands I slipped out the ones that had been opened. They were just more letters warning that his accounts were going to be closed, warnings about bankruptcy proceedings, and warnings of late payments.

  Sick to my stomach I sat back on the swivel chair.

  He was broke. It was all a lie. The black American Express. The brand new Lamborghini. The champagne worth thousands of pounds. The boast that he was a billionaire. Everything. Everything was a lie. My breath came out in short, sharp gasps. I never expected this. Never. Not in a million years. What a lying bastard.

  Oh God!

  Oh my God!

  I never did sign that pre-nup agreement. My heart was racing. Wow, Tawny!

  I closed my eyes. Calm down. Calm down. Carefully I thought about everything that had happened. He had taken me away from Barrington Manor, where I found security for the first time in years, and brought me here. Married me in a rush as if he was doing me a favor. I had been so naïve and stupid, so blinded by lust I had even forgotten to ask for the prenup.

  I frowned.

  What about Foxgrove? That still belonged to him. Perhaps, he had mortgaged that as well. And his mother. She seemed so sincere. It was obvious she didn’t know the state of Ivan’s finances either.

  What was he planning? Who had he been talking to last night? I needed to see my solicitor and I needed to get out of this house. My head was throbbing. He betrayed me! I couldn’t believe how completely he had fooled me.

  I put all the letters back into their envelopes and placed them exactly where I found them. I scrunched up the first letter into a ball and put it back on the top of the pile. I closed the drawer, locked it, and made sure the file on the table was back in its original position. Then I walked out of the room, closed the door and returned the key to the bottom of the bowl.

  I needed time. I needed a strategy. My heart was broken and I was badly, very badly wounded by this new development, but I was not beaten. I survived being a hungry, homeless orphan, hiding from the authorities. I could survive this too.

  I took a shower and tried to think. I needed one day, just one day, to get myself together. I got out of the shower, called my solicitor, and made an appointment for the next day. Then I deleted traces of the call from my phone.

  I couldn’t possibly go to work today, but I had to get out of this house. I put on my coat, took my handbag, and left the apartment. As I was closing the door, Ralph appeared in his doorway. He was about to go out.

  With a cold stare he closed his door and went back into his apartment.

  Whatever, Ralph. And everybody thought I was the gold digger!

  I took a taxi to Harrods where I wandered around listlessly. I had no plan. I needed a plan, but my mind was blank. I felt so depressed and numb. I could not believe that Ivan could betray me for money. All he had to do was tell me the truth. I would have given him the money. Robert would turn in his grave to know he had been so spectacularly wrong about Ivan.

  Ivan was as bad as the rest of them.

  All I wanted to do was run away and hide for just a little while. Until it didn’t hurt so much, but there was nowhere to run or hide. I had to stay and face the music. I was married to a psychopath who could have incredible sex with me all night, then plot with my stepchildren to have me eliminated. I turned a corner, still in a daze, and bumped into someone.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, my voice dying in my throat when I saw who it was.

  My old butler, James.

  ‘Oh, Mrs. Maxwell! Well, it’s Lady Greystoke now, isn’t it?’ he said with a happy smile. ‘I can’t believe it. You look very well. How are you these days?’ He seemed so happy to see me that I felt myself go red with embarrassment. I had asked him to stay on, but then Ivan had fired him, yet he seemed to bear me no ill will.

  As I stood there I understood Ivan’s game. James had been loyal to Robert and me, so Ivan removed him from the picture. As a strategy it was brilliant. He removed my entire support system. The butler that Robert had trusted for twenty years, the housekeeper, my home, my horses. Everything had been taken away from me.

  I suddenly felt like crying.

  ‘Oh Mrs. Maxwell, I mean, Lady Greystoke, what’s the matter? You look so pale. Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine. I’m just glad to see you James. How have you been?’

  ‘Not good. I’ve haven’t been able to find new employment. I’m too old. And the missus is sick so most of my inheritance is gone.’

&nb
sp; ‘Oh no. You must let me help you,’ I cried, horrified to know what had happened to him.

  ‘That’s very kind of you.’

  ‘Yes, you must tell me everything.’

  ‘Will you allow me to buy you a coffee?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course. But you must let me buy it.’

  ‘No, please. For once let me treat you.’

  I smiled. ‘All right.’

  We walked together to the coffee house on the third floor. I sat down. ‘Do you mind if I call the missus and tell her I’ll be a bit late?’ he asked, taking his phone out of his pocket and holding it respectfully in his hand.

  ‘Of course not,’ I said with a smile.

  He called and told her that we had met in Harrods, and that he would be a bit late. He listened, then looking at me apologetically, said, ‘No, Martha. It wouldn’t be appropriate.’

  ‘What wouldn’t be appropriate?’ I asked.

  He took the phone away from his ear. ‘Martha wants me to bring you home for tea. She’s always been dying to meet you.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said. I remembered then that James had mentioned her before. Not only that, once she had even baked some cookies for me, and I had gone out and bought her a beautiful designer handbag as a gift.

  He put the phone back to his ear. ‘Maybe another time, Martha. Lady Greystoke is busy.’

  ‘Wait,’ I said. ‘Where do you live?’

  ‘We live in West Kensington. It’s just up the road. We’d love you to come, but I realize you’re probably too busy. Just say no if you can’t. You can come another time.’

  ‘No, no,’ I said with a smile. ‘I’ll come today. I’d love to meet your wife.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ James asked, his eyes bright.

  ‘Of course, I’m sure.’ The truth was, bumping into him couldn’t have come at a better time. I needed to not be alone. I needed to talk to people from my old life, from before Ivan came into it.

  James ended his call and beamed at me. ‘My car is parked one street away from here. I can bring it around or we can walk. I know you enjoy a good walk.’

  It was good to be with someone who knew me so well. ‘Let’s walk, James. As you said, I’ve always enjoyed a good walk.’

  We walked to his car. Like a true gentleman, he held open the passenger door while I got in. He closed the door before going around to the driver’s side. He started the ignition and was about to drive away when the back door opened suddenly. I twisted my head around in surprise and stared into Dr. Spencer’s pale blue eyes.

  Oh, dear God!

  ‘Hello, Lady Greystoke,’ he said, and slipped a needle into my arm.

  I barely heard him. I looked at my arm in frozen shock. In a flash all the missing pieces of the jigsaw puzzle fell into place. James had spiked my drink. They were all in this together. The picture was now complete. Ivan was talking to the doctor yesterday. Of course, the good doctor always hated me. Oh no, I was beginning to feel disorientated. I was going to black out.

  Then everything went black.

  CHAPTER 34

  Tawny Greystoke

  “I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you!”

  - Samwise Gamgee

  (A Hobbit & the real hero)

  Dr. Spencer was holding smelling salts under my nose when I came to. My head lolled about but my seated body was totally immobile. I tried to speak and realized that my mouth taped shut.

  I coughed and blearily tried to make sense of my surroundings. I was immobile because from my shoulder to my ankles I was tightly mummified in Clingfilm.

  One look at the ceiling and I knew that I was in Barrington Manor. I swiveled my eyes around and saw there were other people in the room. My vision was still fuzzy and they appeared as blurred shapes. I blinked to clear my vision.

  ‘Can you hear me Mrs. Maxwell?’ Dr. Spencer asked calmly.

  I pulled my eyes back to him and focused on his face. There was no expression at all on his thin, sallow face, but he was wearing what appeared to be a white boiler suit.

  I nodded.

  ‘She’s fine. She’s was always as fit as a horse,’ a woman’s voice dismissed rudely, and Rosalind came into my sight. She was wearing a similar white boiler suit. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter if she’s not. She’ll be dead soon.’

  My blood ran cold at her words.

  ‘I can’t have any chemicals found in her system,’ Dr. Spencer explained patiently. ‘It has to look like an accident or we’ll all be going to prison.’

  ‘Look, can we get this over with. This place is giving me the creeps. All these fucking sheets over the furniture look like ghosts, Bianca said with a shudder. She too was dressed the same way.

  ‘Don’t be such baby. We have to wait for Ivan,’ Rosalind scolded her sister.

  ‘And me,’ an amused man’s voice said.

  Dorian came into view. He was not wearing a white suit.

  ‘For heaven’s sake. I thought I told you stay away. What are you doing here? And why are you not wearing one of these.’

  ‘Ivan asked me to come and why should I wear those ridiculous things. It’s not like I’ll be the one who’s going to do the deed.’

  The mention of Ivan’s name hurt me more than I cared to admit.

  ‘Why did Ivan ask you to come’ Rosalind asked suspiciously.

  ‘I think he didn’t want to leave any loose lips and, figured correctly, I might add, that I might have loose lips. All who benefit must be implicated was what he said.’

  Dorian strolled over and stood in front of me.

  ‘Why on earth is she covered in plastic?’

  ‘We didn’t want to leave tie marks on her wrists or ankles,’ Dr Spencer explained. It has to look like an accident.’

  ‘What kind of an accident?’ he asked almost childishly.

  ‘An accidental drowning in the lake. I’ve already prepared a large pail of lake water that her face will be submerged in until she drowns and then she will be put in the lake so it looks like she fell into the cold water and drowned.’

  ‘A pail of lake water?’

  ‘Yes, if she downs in the bathtub the type of water inside her will be different than the lake’s.’

  ‘Fan of CSI, are you?’ Dorian asked sarcastically.

  ‘No,’ Dr Spencer denied stiffly. ‘Unlike you I thought it out.’

  I listened incredulously. They had thought of everything and I had been led here like a lamb to slaughter.

  ‘I’m far too squeamish for details like that.’ He turned to look at me. ‘Goodness is it kinky that all this plastic is giving me a hard on.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Bianca said nervously. ‘None of this is funny.’

  Dorian ignored his sister and turned to Dr. Spencer. Can I fuck her very quickly?’

  ‘You’re drunk, aren’t you?’ Rosalind fumed. ‘Just once you couldn’t come sober.’

  ‘Chill out, sis. I had half a glass of Merlot at lunch. It isn’t like I was going in bareback. I’ve got condoms.’ He comes closer to me. ‘I’ve always wanted to give her one. Ivan got to, I don’t see why not me too.’

  ‘God, you are such an idiot. Do you want to leave your calling card inside her,’ Rosalind sneered.

  Dr Spencer cleared his throat. ‘Yes, you definitely don’t want to leave your DNA on her. Even the smallest particles can incriminate you.’ He lifted up his hands to show that he was wearing surgeon’s gloves.

  Dorian shook his head regretfully at me. ‘All you had to do was fucking share.’

  In his weak jaw I saw my chance. The weak link in the chain. I made a muffled sound and begged him with my eyes.

  He stared at me for a moment as if considering my request then suddenly reached his hand out and viciously ripped the tape off my mouth. I gritted my teeth to stop myself from crying out with the pain.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ both Rosalind and Bianca screamed.

  ‘Relax, what’s she going to do? Scream and alert the neighbors. There’s nobody for miles in
this godforsaken part of the world. Let her have a few last words. Besides I like hearing her talk. I like her lips.’ He leered as he said that.

  ‘I can give you money,’ I cried.

  He sighed exaggeratedly in a pretend sad way, the way Mafia killers in movies do. He was really enjoying this. ‘I allow you to talk and this is what you say. Disappointing. Truly disappointing.’

  Tears burned the backs of my eyes. I knew my last hope was my secret. I had vowed never to tell, but there was no point in keeping it any more. In fact, I no longer knew why Robert had put me through this whole charade. In the end I still ended up their prey. I wanted to live and I would do what it took to survive.

  ‘I’m not who you think I am,’ I cried out.

  Dorian smiled, the sick twisted, smile of a nasty boy pulling the legs off insects just because he could. ‘Go on then. Who are you?’ he taunted. The others said nothing.

  ‘I’m not your stepmother. I’m your half-sister. I’m Robert’s daughter.’

  Dorian’s eyes bulged with shock. ‘Bollocks’ he shouted.

  ‘No, it’s not. I can prove it. I have the results of the paternity test. It’s with my solicitor. We’re flesh and blood.’

  Rosalind stalked towards me. ‘You’re telling me, you’re my sister?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘And why are you telling us this now? Do you think that we will take pity on you because one microscopic sperm from my father, one that should have been flushed down the toilet, instead impregnated a whore’s egg and produced you?’

  ‘My mother was not a whore,’ I said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Yes, she was.’

  ‘She wasn’t. She was a dancer.’

  ‘Oh well, here’s something you didn’t know. Your mother sold her body to pay for her treatments.’

  I felt angry tears flood my eyes and start dribbling down my face. ‘I don’t believe you,’ I shouted angrily. My mother was the one pure thing in my life.

  ‘Believe what you want. As if I care either way. You’re not my sister. I hate you and I’ve always hated you. If anything this makes me even happier to get rid of you. How could Robert favor you over us? If we didn’t have to preserve your face, I would love to punch it in.’