Beautiful Creatures

by Lulu Taylor

  ‘I don’t care. Leave there. I’ll sort it out. I need you right now. Not just for today. For good.’

  There was a pause. ‘Okay. I’ll be right there.’ She hung up.

  8

  The elegant crowds promenaded about the emerald-green grass of the Stewards’ Enclosure at Henley. The men wore rowing blazers in bright candy colours and straw boaters, or, if they were not rowers themselves, discreet navy blue blazers with their light flannel trousers. The ladies wore dresses and skirts, from trusty floral numbers that looked as though they had seen plenty of summer outings to high-fashion dresses – anything was acceptable so long as it covered the knee. The regatta-goers entered the enclosure via a tented gateway, where every lady’s hemline was inspected by eagle-eyed officials to make sure the rules were abided by. Some of the younger girls pulled their skirts down to walk through the entrance, and then hitched them up once they’d passed muster, but it was a risky strategy: officials wandered through the enclosure keeping an eye on things and were wise to the mysteriously rising hemline. Ladies who had foolishly arrived in something thigh-skimming were turned away, no matter how hard they pleaded. Their only option was to resort to the local shops, where they could buy something more appropriate.

  Amanda Radcliffe, effortlessly chic in a pale green and gold Missoni crocheted dress, would never make such an uninformed mistake. She knew very well what the dress code for Henley Royal Regatta was; she’d been coming since she was fourteen, when her brother had rowed for Harrow and got her and her friends tickets for the Stewards’. She remembered when a boyfriend of hers had been a rower, one of the fit, brawny athletes straining every muscle as they pulled down the Thames. She’d leapt up and down, screaming her encouragement, loving the tension of the intense competition, the strain on the faces of the rowers as they pumped the oars … and got a thrill out of knowing that, later, the tall, muscled boy sitting at six in the boat would be involved in another kind of physical exertion entirely.

  The memory sent a pleasurable tingle across her smooth brown skin, tanned from the morning she had spent sunbathing on her Notting Hill roof terrace, and made her wish that she hadn’t broken up with Ferdy. He might have been dim but at least he was good in bed.

  She took a cigarette out of her solid silver Asprey case. She’d had it made in the exact dimensions of a Marlboro Lights box, with a hinged lid that opened just like the cardboard version and her initials engraved on the side. ‘So I don’t have to see that bloody death warning,’ she told her friends. One of the nice things about the regatta was that smoking was permitted because the whole thing was outdoors anyway. She tapped a cigarette against the box, lit it and exhaled a plume of smoke, gazing at the people wandering by.

  Her friend Claudia came up, holding two glasses of champagne. She looked glamorous in a red halter-neck sundress and Chanel sunglasses, a shiny mane of long golden-brown hair tumbling down her back.

  ‘At last,’ Amanda said, taking one of the glasses. ‘I thought you must be crushing the bloody grapes.’

  ‘You go next time,’ Claudia retorted. ‘The bar’s packed. Some vile girls from my old school are there. Belinda Bagthorpe and her ghastly crowd.’

  ‘Henley can be rather cheap sometimes, don’t you find?’ said Amanda. She dropped her half-smoked cigarette and ground it out on the grass, then took a gulp of her champagne.

  ‘So, did you have any problems getting the day off work then?’ Claudia asked sweetly.

  Amanda shot her a look. ‘I’m the boss’s daughter, remember? I work when I want to.’

  ‘Daddy says he’ll have his arms ripped off before I have to work for a living,’ Claudia remarked, sipping her drink.

  ‘That’s because he remembers only too well what working down the mine was like,’ shot back Amanda.

  ‘He runs an energy company!’ said Claudia hotly. ‘He’s never been down a mine.’ She sneered. ‘At least he doesn’t work in a shop.’

  ‘Noble’s is not just a shop,’ Amanda said with dignity. ‘It’s an institution.’

  ‘Like a mental hospital?’

  ‘Ha-ha.’ Amanda stuck her chin in the air. ‘You know what I mean. Actually, Claudia, perhaps you haven’t noticed but everybody has a job nowadays – it’s not cool to sit around spending Daddy’s dosh. Pansy Cooper-Stewart has opened a toy shop. Tibby Macintyre is doing things for the National Gallery – parties or something – and even Suze is running her gift-list website.’

  Claudia pouted. ‘I could have a job if I wanted one.’

  ‘As it happens, Noble’s is not just a job to me. I’m passionate about it and what I do there. Besides, it’s my family’s business. It’s in my blood.’

  Claudia peeped over the top of her sunglasses. ‘Oh! There’s Gerry.’

  ‘Really?’ Amanda gazed round swiftly. ‘Where?’

  ‘There, coming down along the grandstand.’

  ‘Bugger.’ Amanda turned away from that direction, showing a pair of well-tanned shoulders and a glossy curtain of hair, dark again since the Beaufort party. ‘I’m not really on speakers with Gerry.’

  ‘Have you two fallen out?’ Claudia looked interested.

  ‘Not exactly. Let’s just say I’m rather bored with his new puppy dog routine. The way he’s chasing around after that girl – it’s just embarrassing.’

  ‘Which girl?’

  Amanda pursed her lips and said tightly, ‘Octavia Beaufort.’

  Claudia giggled and sipped her champagne.

  ‘What?’ Amanda snapped.

  ‘Nothing … nothing. But he was always buzzing around you until recently, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Amanda!’ called Gerry from a distance. His keen social vision had already spotted her.

  ‘Is he with that Beaufort girl?’ hissed Amanda, not turning around.

  ‘No. He’s with Molly Harradine.’

  Amanda turned back with a big smile and waited for him to approach the champagne enclosure. ‘Gerry darling! How are you? And Molly, how lovely …’

  Kisses were exchanged, and enquiries as to where everyone was lunching were swapped.

  ‘Where’s your little friend?’ Amanda said brightly. ‘Is she busy today?’

  ‘Do you mean my dinky Octavia?’ Gerry said sweetly. ‘Well, she’s moving into her new house today, so she couldn’t come. Dear thing, she couldn’t wait to be in it. I told her to leave it to the movers and arrive in splendour tonight but she wouldn’t listen. The house is superb. Perhaps a bit modern for my tastes, but wonderful in its own way.’

  ‘I’m surprised you’re not there helping her,’ Amanda said, trying not to sound too acid. ‘I can just see you carrying boxes for her, like an obedient pack pony.’ Claudia was chatting with Molly Harradine, a lady of certain age whose face was showing the effects of cosmetic surgery: eyes that were slightly too catlike and lips that plumped out unnaturally. The effect was disconcerting and it was hard not to stare.

  ‘Amanda, you’re not … jealous, are you?’

  ‘Of course not. I hate to break it to you, Gerry, but you are not the centre of my universe. Very, very far from it. I’m delighted you’ve got something to occupy your spare time. I just hope you’re not being diverted from your work.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ Gerry said with a smile. ‘I have a feeling this will reap huge rewards.’ He took hold of Amanda’s hand, leant towards her and said confidingly, ‘You know you’ll always be my best girl, don’t you?’

  Amanda threw back her head and laughed. ‘Oh, Gerry, you whore. You total social slut.’

  He laughed as well, the other two turning to look enquiringly at them. ‘You’re right! But, Amanda, I insist you come and meet Octavia. I know you two will love each other. In fact, I’m sure of it! Will you? Are you coming to my ball? It will be the perfect opportunity.’

  ‘Yes, I’ll be there. Perhaps I’ll meet your little favourite then,’ Amanda said, shrugging her shoulders lightly. ‘Is Harrow rowing in the next race? I must go and watch. I al
ways do, for Harry’s sake.’

  ‘How eccentric,’ declared Gerry, ‘to come to Henley and watch the rowing! Come, Molly,’ he put out his arm for his companion to take, ‘let us go to the Pimm’s bar. I never think summer’s really arrived until I have a Pimm’s in the Stewards’.’ He cast a look at Amanda and winked almost imperceptibly. ‘Don’t forget, Amanda. You’re coming to meet my protégée. I can’t have you going any greener … you’ll start matching that pretty dress of yours.’

  Amanda watched him go, a half smile curling her lips.

  ‘So will you … meet the Beauforts?’ Claudia asked.

  ‘You know what? Perhaps I will.’ Amanda narrowed her eyes and took another sip of her drink. ‘I can’t pretend it hasn’t been irritating lately. That girl is bloody everywhere.’

  ‘You know what it’s like, they’ll be forgotten in no time. The new thing is always the most exciting,’ Claudia said comfortingly but with a glint of enjoyment visible behind her shades.

  ‘Mmm.’ Amanda put on her own sunglasses. ‘Come on. I just heard the race commentator announce that the crews have passed the Temple. Let’s go and bag our spot.’

  9

  ‘Well, is it ready?’ Octavia stood at the front door of her new home, her hands over her eyes. In honour of moving day she was dressed down in True Religion ripped jeans and a plain Alexander Wang jersey tee-shirt along with flat brown leather sandals, although she hadn’t had to move a thing herself. The effect was effortlessly stylish.

  How does she know what to wear? thought Flora, wishing she had Octavia’s gift for clothes. Even though her own things were expensive – Ralph Lauren chinos and a pink sweat top – she felt frumpy next to her sister.

  The apartment at The Connaught had been stripped bare, and the trunks of extra clothes and effects that the girls had accumulated during their time there brought out of storage, taken to the new house and unpacked. At the same time, new furniture and goods had been delivered, van after van pulling up to unload yet more packages and boxes.

  ‘Yes, it’s all done,’ Vicky said, standing back from the front door to let Octavia in. Flora followed just behind, wide-eyed and eager to see the transformation.

  Octavia had to admit that Vicky had worked miracles. She hadn’t been too sure when Flora had announced that their cousin was now on the payroll and would be assisting them in every way. She hadn’t thought they needed any help beyond a cleaner and a cook, but now she could see that they did. Octavia was still getting to grips with having an email account and had just about mastered how to download music on to her MP3 player – there was no way she could have co-ordinated getting the house ready to be lived in. Vicky had sorted out everything with The Connaught and settled the bill – she was now in possession of a credit card with a dizzying limit available for Beaufort spending – and arranged the movers. She had anticipated all the home purchases they needed – the things that never occurred to Octavia and Flora, like towels, linen or a vacuum cleaner – ordered and paid for them and had them delivered. Vicky had also hired the staff and arranged security. All of it was done and taken care of. The new house was now completely equipped and ready for habitation.

  ‘Come down to the kitchen and meet your housekeeper, Molly. She’ll be taking care of everything domestic,’ Vicky said. ‘And there are two cooks, working on rotation. There are also two maids, a cleaner, a gardener and some security, but you’ll meet them as we go along. Everyone’s been vetted, of course. Your driver Steve is also going to double as your bodyguard – I’ve got rid of that man the lawyers sent, I know you didn’t like him.’

  ‘Good job, Vicky,’ Octavia said admiringly. ‘Your talents were wasted as a trainee accountant.’

  ‘You know, I think you may be right,’ Vicky said with a smile. ‘I’m loving my new job.’

  She led them to the kitchen and introduced them to Molly, a friendly-faced woman with tied-back dark curly hair who was checking off a list of newly delivered supplies and arranging the larder. Then Vicky showed them the rest of the house, already perfectly arranged right down to Octavia’s loads of new clothes, which had been sorted and stored neatly in perfect order in the large dressing room that led off her bedroom.

  ‘This is brilliant, Vicky, thank you,’ Flora said, delighted that her decision to hire their cousin had paid off.

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  They all went through to the main sitting room, a softly chic room in the house’s theme colours of celadon green and pebble grey. Octavia instantly threw herself on the enormous white Mongolian sheepskin rug and stretched out luxuriously.

  ‘At last, our very own home!’ she proclaimed, her soft blonde hair mingling with the white fur.

  ‘Just a couple of things, guys, before you go off and settle into your own rooms. I’m on the third floor, as I showed you earlier, and you can reach me any time. I’ve got a dedicated phone line just for you to use, so you can always get hold of me. I’ve already programmed the numbers into your phones as well as my house email. I’ve told Molly not to bother you with details but to come to me in every instance, so let me know what your requirements are.’

  ‘Oh, I think I’m going to love having you about, Vicky,’ Octavia said with a grin. She got up. ‘I’m going to head upstairs for a shower. All this moving is hard work. Vicks, could you see about getting someone in who can show me how to use that gym equipment?’

  Vicky pulled out a tiny notebook and small gold pen, and made a note.

  ‘Thanks!’ Octavia bounced out of the room, obviously on a high to be in the new house.

  ‘How about you, Flora?’ Vicky looked over at her other cousin. ‘Anything I can do for you?’

  Flora went and sat on the sofa. She shook her head. ‘No. You’ve done loads. Thank you.’

  ‘Are you kidding? I should be thanking you. I’m living in the lap of luxury – thanks for the new car, by the way – and my job is great fun.’ Vicky went over and sat beside her. ‘What about you, though? I get the feeling you’re not happy.’

  ‘I know I should be. After all, I’m one of the luckiest girls in the world, aren’t I? How can I complain when I have all this?’ Flora looked about the room, so quietly tasteful and expensively luxurious. ‘But I feel so useless. What am I going to do with my life? Octavia will be fine, she’ll make friends and find something to occupy herself. But I’ve no idea what to do with myself.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll find something,’ Vicky said reassuringly, her eyes sympathetic. ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’ve only just left home for the first time. It’s a lot to come to terms with.’

  ‘But don’t you see?’ Flora grabbed a cushion and held it close to her. ‘I don’t have any qualifications for anything. I’ve never sat an exam. Who would want me?’

  ‘Lots of people,’ Vicky said firmly. ‘You mustn’t write yourself off. You’re young and bright with masses to offer. What have you always enjoyed doing?’

  ‘Well …’ Flora thought for a moment. ‘Painting, I suppose. I’ve always loved that.’

  ‘There. That’s something you can do while you work out your future. Shall I look into some art schools and see if there’s a course you can enrol on?’

  Flora felt the familiar nerves flutter in her stomach at the idea of going somewhere unknown and being surrounded by strangers. ‘I’m not sure … I’ll ask Octavia.’

  ‘No harm in looking into it.’ Vicky smiled. ‘You can always come and talk to me, you know that, don’t you?’ She put a reassuring hand on Flora’s arm.

  Flora smiled back. ‘Yes, thanks, Vicky. You’re a real friend.’

  ‘Any time. I mean it.’

  Later that night, Flora went as usual to Octavia’s room. This time they really were apart, she noticed. Although their bedrooms were on the same floor, they were at opposite sides of the house, Octavia’s looking over the front and Flora with a view of the garden.

  Flora knocked on the door and went in. Octavia was lying on her bed in her pyjamas rea
ding a magazine. She looked up as her sister came in.

  ‘Hi!’ She grinned. ‘Isn’t this exciting? Our own place at last.’ She sat up and held out the hairbrush. ‘Come here, I’ll do your hair first.’

  Flora went over and sat on the bed, feeling comforted by the familiar routine. Octavia knelt behind her and started brushing out her long blonde hair, humming gently. Flora closed her eyes and let herself relax as the soothing strokes pulled rhythmically through her hair.

  ‘Are you okay, honey?’ Octavia asked gently. ‘You barely ate anything at dinner.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Flora said. ‘Really.’ She didn’t want to admit that she had hardly any appetite, or that she was finding it hard to eat outside the regime that Aunt Frances had set down. Octavia was so happy. She clearly loved their new life. I can’t worry her. I don’t want to tell her how I’m really feeling. Besides, I’ll be fine in a while, I’m sure of it.

  ‘Good.’ Octavia’s hand rested gently on her sister’s head as she brushed. ‘There’s so much to look forward to, I can hardly wait to get started.’

  Flora shut her eyes and tried to banish the fear that weighed on her stomach. As long as there was this – the cosy intimacy with her sister that she needed so much – she would be all right.

  10

  The ball was a fabulous affair. Gerry had decreed a dress code of black tie for the men and white gowns for the ladies, and it was being held in the ballroom of Templeton House, which Gerry claimed had once been in his family but was now the headquarters of some royal society or other. The sight of the black and white figures drifting about the chequered floor gave the effect of an elegant and intricate chess game.

  Octavia was with him, and had been since the very beginning.

  ‘It’s in your honour, darling,’ he’d declared. ‘This is my present to you, to make sure that everyone knows exactly who you are. You’re simply made to be a leading light in society. You’ve got everything – beauty, youth and glamour. The only thing you don’t have is connections, and that’s what I’m terribly good at. By the time tonight is over, you’ll know the whole of the jeunesse dorée. You’ll have a million friend requests tomorrow on your Facebook page.’