Beautiful Creatures

by Lulu Taylor

  She watched Max as he ordered for them both. He really had the most odd ugly-handsome face she had ever seen. His features were large and heavy, with a jutting brow and chin. His dark hair had prominent streaks of grey at the temples. And yet, when he fixed his blue gaze on Octavia, and smiled, he went from rough-looking to almost angelic. It was very strange.

  The bottle of Pouilly Fumé arrived. As the waiter poured it out, Max said, ‘So how is your sister?’

  ‘She’s doing amazingly well, thanks. Much better than I’d hoped. It’s as though she had a choice between being broken by it all or surviving – and she’s chosen to survive.’ Octavia took a sip of chilled wine.

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. She looked in quite a state when we got her back.’

  ‘And thank you so much for your help. I mean it, it was amazing. We couldn’t have done it without you,’ Octavia said, in heartfelt fashion. ‘I owe you so much.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ Max fixed her with one of his piercing blue stares. ‘I haven’t asked too much about what was going on there, because I think there is probably a limit to what I ought to know, but I’m trusting that you know what you’re doing and that you’re on the side of the angels.’

  ‘Really?’ Octavia raised her eyebrows at him. ‘You’re trusting me? The spoilt little rich girl? Not so long ago, you wouldn’t trust me as far as you could throw me.’

  ‘Don’t tempt me to throw you anywhere,’ Max said, but with a glint of amusement in his eyes. ‘Listen, I admit it. Maybe I was hasty in my judgements. I don’t think you are quite as flighty and air-headed as I assumed.’

  ‘How kind,’ she rejoined tartly.

  ‘Well – you’ve got to admit it was an easy assumption to make. Your crowd of friends aren’t exactly saints.’

  ‘What do you know about them?’

  ‘You’d be surprised. I know enough to be sure that I wouldn’t want any girl I care about to hang around with them too long, unless she had her head firmly screwed on.’

  Their starters came and they went quiet as the waiter set their plates down.

  ‘If you must know, I thought you were very rude,’ Octavia said, when the waiter had gone.

  Max shrugged. ‘I don’t stand on ceremony. I get right to the point.’

  ‘I know that now.’

  He looked her straight in the eye. ‘I’m also honest. You came to me for help, and you managed to convince me to do something I wouldn’t do for just anyone. I respect your courage, and I respect what you did. I’m prepared to admit that.’

  Octavia felt absurdly pleased to have his respect. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Now, eat that thing you ordered, and let’s talk about something other than my manners.’

  ‘See?’ She speared a piece of pasta on her fork. ‘So rude.’ Then she laughed to show she was joking and Max joined in.

  As they ate, he said, ‘Your business – how is that going?’

  Octavia looked down at her plate, toying with the next morsel of her starter but not picking it up. ‘I suppose I haven’t been giving it my full attention, what with Flora needing me so much. But I’ve been working on the re-design and coming up with lots of new ideas. I’m going to give it more time now Flora needs me less.’

  Max chewed thoughtfully on his ceviche of sea bass, and frowned. ‘Well, I can understand that circumstances have been rather difficult. But you mustn’t leave your business alone for too long. They can founder without attention, sometimes irreversibly.’

  ‘Yes, but …’ Octavia put down her fork and picked up her wine glass, swirling it round and round until the straw-coloured liquid inside formed its own little whirlpool. ‘I have Ethan for that. He deals with figures, the bits I don’t understand.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘If I’m honest,’ Octavia said in a rush, ‘it’s been harder than I expected. I thought they’d welcome me there with open arms, but as soon as I walk through the door of Noble’s it’s like everyone hates me. I hardly get a smile.’

  Max shook his head. ‘An unhappy workforce is never good. What do you think is the problem?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She couldn’t stop a slightly plaintive note from entering her voice. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong!’

  ‘Haven’t you?’ Max spoke casually but there was something in his tone that made Octavia look up anxiously. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said cautiously. ‘Not that I know of anyway. I suppose it’s been a big change for them. And it was really unfortunate that the old chairman died just after the deal was done.’ She frowned. ‘Do you think that’s the reason the staff hate me? Because Butterfly bought the Radcliffes out?’ She couldn’t help feeling indignant. ‘We paid them well enough!’

  ‘That’s not really the point. No one likes a hostile takeover, particularly not when the bidders seem to be a little … sneaky about their intentions. I’ve heard some things about the transaction and looked into it after Ethan talked to me about joining the board. The way that Robert Young was – as I understand it – bribed to change sides was considered a little unsportsmanlike.’

  Octavia was confused. Robert Young had made a business decision, nothing more, surely? ‘Ethan told me it was all completely normal,’ she said, frowning. ‘He said that people would be impressed by my business acumen when the deal came off.’

  Max said nothing. There was an uncomfortable pause alleviated by the arrival of the waiter who cleared away the starter plates, while bantering with Max in Italian, and then their main courses arrived. It was only when everything was settled again and they were taking the first mouthfuls of their excellent food that Octavia said, ‘Is this why you’re not going to join the Butterfly board? Because of the takeover?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. I haven’t warmed to your boyfriend. He’s not quite my cup of tea. Usually I’m a big fan of young men with ambition, drive and talent. But occasionally I meet one who gives me a peculiar feeling – the sense that I really ought not to get involved too deeply with this one. That’s what I get from your boyfriend. I’m sorry to hurt your feelings.’

  ‘No, don’t worry. It’s fine, really.’ Octavia felt her spirits swoop. What on earth must he think of her? He seemed to think her boyfriend was both callous and dangerous. It was a wonder he wanted to be out with her at all.

  ‘Hey, come on.’ Max smiled at her. ‘We just decided we were friends, didn’t we? Let’s talk about something else.’

  He told her a little about his time in the army, and as they relaxed in each other’s company Octavia talked more about her past. He was interested to hear about the long years behind the closed doors of Homerton, with no experience of the outside world, no school, no university.

  ‘Then I was wrong about you,’ he said, looking at her with that piercing gaze. ‘You’re not like those other girls at all. You’ve had to learn rather a lot in the time you’ve been in the world, and you’ve achieved more than most.’

  After dinner, when they were both feeling replete and languorous, he suggested they should go to Colette’s for a nightcap. ‘It’s the nightclub just round the corner in Berkeley Square.’

  They wandered out into the Mayfair night. Max offered her his arm and they walked together through the cool air, chatting as they went. Octavia felt comfortable with him now, she realised. He didn’t seem so prickly and unapproachable as he had at first. He was making jokes and smiling so often, she’d begun to think it was normal for him to wear that lighter, handsomer expression.

  Colette’s was quiet and elegant, with couples or small groups of people laughing and talking together over chilled bottles of champagne or vodka cocktails. ‘Still early,’ Max muttered, leading her to a red velvet banquette in the sitting room opposite the bar. ‘The party doesn’t usually kick off here until much later. We’ll have some peace for a while yet.’

  They drank a bottle of club champagne and he talked about Scotland and why he loved it so much. Octavia remembered the sensation of being in that cosy
house and the sense of well-being it had engendered in her.

  ‘How long have you been divorced?’ she asked idly, watching the bubbles zoom to the top of her glass.

  Max drank some champagne. ‘I’m not divorced,’ he said. ‘Not yet, at least. My wife is in the process of making her demands clear.’ He shrugged. ‘I have a feeling she’ll have quite a lot.’

  ‘Are you going to give in to them?’

  ‘That depends. Some fights are worth having and some aren’t. I’m a fair man. I don’t relish conflict for its own sake. And I have to remember I loved her once, even if I don’t love her now.’ He frowned, looking serious for a moment. Then he said slowly, ‘Do you mind if I say something unforgivably schoolmaster-ish? It’s been on my mind and I feel I have to say it. You’ve been very lucky, Octavia. You’ve been given an enormous inheritance. I admire the fact that you want to do something with it – and I think that’s only right. Put it to work and make it do good things in the world. Either that, or give it away to others who need it more. But don’t fritter it away. Don’t let others take it from you. Don’t let it be leached away and wasted.’ He smiled at her, showing straight teeth. ‘There. Excuse the little lecture.’

  Octavia said nothing. She felt a stab of shame. She had thought of her money as there entirely for her own amusement, but the moment Max said this, she saw clearly that it was also a responsibility. She thought of everyone who worked at Noble’s, from the cleaners to the sales assistants to the managers. They all depended on her for their livelihoods. No wonder they were nervous at the idea of a flighty rich girl buying the shop for a plaything. I’ll have to make sure I don’t let them down.

  ‘And remember,’ Max said softly, ‘it doesn’t do to rely too much on one person, or put all your trust in them. Always make sure you have plenty of advice from different sources.’

  Just then a beautiful blonde girl, her hair piled up high on her head and her black evening dress discreetly sexy, came over and said, ‘Max, how lovely to see you.’

  He got to his feet. ‘Allegra.’ He kissed her cheeks. ‘You look divine as usual. How are you? And how’s David?’

  ‘I’m fine, thank you, and so’s David – but he isn’t coming in tonight. He’ll be so sorry to have missed you.’

  Octavia looked up questioningly. Max said, ‘Allegra, may I introduce Octavia Beaufort? Octavia, this is Allegra McCorquodale, who runs this excellent club.’

  ‘Hello,’ Allegra said with a friendly smile. ‘I hope you enjoy yourself here. I’d love a few of the younger crowd like you to join.’

  Octavia said politely, ‘I’m having a lovely time, thank you,’ but she couldn’t help the cold feeling that crawled over her skin at the sight of the other girl and her obvious familiarity with Max. She felt suspicious and protective all at once. Allegra chatted to him for a while longer, and then wished them both a pleasant evening. It was only when she had gone that Octavia was able to relax, once she had him to herself again.

  It was well after midnight when Max said, ‘I think we’d better call it a night. I’ll get my driver to take you home.’

  ‘I can call Steve,’ she said, disappointed that their evening was coming to an end. She felt contented and a little bit high. From the champagne, I expect.

  ‘Don’t be silly. You’ll take my car home. I like to walk late at night and it’s not so far to my place from here.’

  They climbed the metal staircase back up to the outside world, emerging from the cosy darkness and warmth of Colette’s into the crisp night air. People passed them on their way into the club, their evening about to begin as Octavia and Max’s was ending. As they stood on the pavement, he hummed a few bars of music.

  ‘I love that song, don’t you?’ he said. ‘I always think of “A Nightingale sang in Berkeley Square” when I come here.’

  ‘I don’t know it,’ Octavia said, feeling keenly that her life was nowhere near as rich and full as Max’s. She was still so ignorant of the world. Her years spent locked away from everyday life meant that hundreds of references everyone else knew simply passed her by. I need to learn, she thought longingly. I need to find out what I’ve been missing.

  ‘You don’t know it?’ He looked surprised, then put his hands in his pockets and hummed a bit more of the melody. Then very softly, he sang a couple of lines in an unexpectedly sweet baritone:

  And as we kissed and said ‘Good night’

  A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square …

  Just then, Max’s mustard-coloured Daimler drew smoothly to a halt beside them. A doorman pulled the passenger door open for Octavia. Max settled her wrap round her shoulders, smiled, dropped a kiss on her cheek and whispered, ‘Goodnight.’

  Then she was in the car and he was saying, ‘Take Miss Beaufort home, Clive,’ and they were heading away, leaving him behind. Octavia turned and saw him put his hands in his pockets and set off at a jaunty pace in the opposite direction.

  I wish … Oh, God, I don’t even know what I wish …

  73

  When it happened, it was so unexpected that she almost forgot to feel afraid. Flora had popped out alone to a café not far from the house and had just bought herself a skinny latte and was heading for the door when she felt a hand on her arm.

  She turned and found herself face to face with Otto.

  She gasped, eyes wide and staring, hardly able to believe that she was looking again at that face that now seemed so unbelievably hideous to her, with its greyish complexion and small brown eyes, its childish hairlessness with eyebrows so faint they seemed to have been half pencilled in and then left.

  Before she could speak, he began to talk, very quietly and very fast. ‘Don’t be afraid, Flora, I’m not going to hurt you, don’t worry about that. I don’t mean you any harm, it’s important that you understand that. You are still my wife, I still love you despite that ridiculous stunt you pulled. There was no need for that, no need at all. You simply had to ask to go home, you know that. But I realise you are set on divorce, and while it breaks my heart I’m willing to agree to it.’ As he spoke, a long, rapid mutter under his breath, he took her elbow and steered her towards the door, walking her outside while his eyes glanced quickly about, making sure that they were not being observed.

  In a second, they were on the pavement, people walking past them oblivious as Otto kept on talking. ‘The thing is, Flora, I need to preserve my financial independence, as I’m sure you understand. I’ve worked very hard, and indeed spent a great deal of money, to get where I am. But I need more, much more. You’ve been kind enough to share some of your fortune with me – and I’m sure you’ll not be so mean-spirited as to request its return – but I need a little more to be absolutely sure that the rest of my life will be spent in the manner I desire. People, bad people, will advise you not to give me what is only my due. I don’t wish you to listen to them. I have ensured you will not.’

  Suddenly she realised that he was pressing a small envelope into her hands, just big enough to hold a compact disc.

  ‘I will contact you when you’ve had a chance to look at these.’ With a small smile, barely more than twist of his lips, he was gone, striding off down the busy street, leaving her staring after him and beginning to feel shock crawling over her.

  Flora raced home, her breath coming in short gasps and her hands shaking. Once inside she ran up the stairs to her study and sat down at her computer. She hadn’t been here since her return, somehow unable to face this particular window on the world. A few moments later the system had booted up and the screen was bright with colour. She ripped open the envelope Otto had given her and put the disc inside into the drive. It began to whirr in the depths of the machine and a moment later a prompt box asked if she wanted to play the contents. She pressed yes.

  There was a momentary pause and then, there they were in front of her: pictures of herself, naked, splayed on the bed, in all sorts of attitudes. There was that hated instrument Otto had used on her, protruding from her body. The pho
tographs flicked quickly from one to the next, so that she barely had time to register one before another would replace it. In each, though, she noticed her face held the same frozen, blank expression – not the face of a woman in the throes of ecstasy but a numbed, removed look. Then another screen opened and, a second later, a video began to play.

  She gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. It was herself and the builder Otto had forced her to have sex with. She was lying on her back on that awful great bed, one hand gripped around the huge dark red shaft of the builder’s penis, moving it slowly up and down.

  All along he had a camera on the bed!

  She scrabbled for the mouse, found it and clicked the video off. Clicked again and again even after it had disappeared.

  Then she ran to the bathroom, crouched down in front of the lavatory and was violently ill, heaving and heaving until there was nothing more to vomit.

  74

  Nick shook his head in disbelief, rubbing one large hand through his black hair. His eyes flashed with fury. Octavia and Flora sat on the sofa, huddled close together and holding hands, gazing up at him with huge, pleading eyes.

  ‘The old ways are the best for Otto,’ he said curtly. ‘Good old-fashioned blackmail. You know what, I was seriously thinking about telling you to cut your losses with this guy and let him have the cash he’s already got. But now he’s starting to piss me off. I mean that seriously.’

  ‘Wh-wh-wh-what are we going to do?’ Flora said in a husky voice, her face pale.

  ‘Mmm. Let me think.’ Nick stood up and started to pace about the room, a frown of concentration on his face. He turned to face the girls on the sofa. ‘He made sure he gave you this unmarked CD in person, right? So no electronic trail to him. My guess is that you’ll have another episode of personal contact so he can tell you his demands, but to be honest it’s perfectly clear. Unless you give him what he wants, he’ll reveal these pictures to the world.’

  Flora hung her head, her face flushing with shame. She hadn’t shown anyone the contents of the disc and no one had asked to see them. She had barely been able to describe what was on there but Octavia had understood at once – she had known instantly that Otto had forced her sister into activities she had never wanted to take part in. She had been so angry that Flora had thought she might break something. Later, Octavia had gone out for a long run and when she’d returned her eyes had been red-rimmed. She had said then they must talk to Nick at once.