by Joanna Rees
Suddenly, a huge feeling of relief came over her. That was it! There wasn’t a problem after all. That was the reason that Victoria had been so evasive. It had to be. They’d been protecting Cosmo and this new project of his.
Well, it was very sweet of Hugo, but Emma really didn’t want him feeling obliged to indulge Cosmo. He probably didn’t have any idea what Cosmo’s associates were like. And, quite frankly, Emma doubted Hugo wanted a bunch of travellers and free-loaders up on his land, interfering with his beloved shoot.
‘I’m not being like anything,’ she said carefully. ‘I’m just surprised you want to involve Hugo and Victoria. I mean, Hugo is running a successful business with the shoot up there. I’m not sure he’s going to be so thrilled at the prospect of a . . . you know, whatever it is . . .’
‘An eco-community, Mum,’ Cosmo said. ‘And for your information, Hugo thinks it’s a great idea.’
‘He does?’
‘I’ve shown him the plans and the budgets and outlined how we’d restore the building.’
Emma shook her head. ‘You’ve drawn up plans? You mean for the actual building?’
‘Of course I have. For the whole site,’ Cosmo said, as if she was stupid. He unzipped the laptop bag and quickly booted up his laptop.
Emma was amazed by what she saw next. Cosmo had downloaded pictures of the old house that Emma only vaguely remembered and now he was showing her a professional-looking restoration plan and a slide-show presentation of the planned eco-community. As he went through it, she could tell he was bubbling with enthusiasm about how it was all going to work. But Emma could hardly take it in. How on earth did Cosmo know how to operate spreadsheets and complex presentation software? Who on earth had done these detailed architectural drawings?
Emma felt momentarily lost. Of course she was incredibly proud, but stung, too, that he’d cut her out, that he hadn’t thought to consult her during the crucial planning stage of his project – because this was exactly the same type of project she’d undertaken with Wrentham. In fact, if anything, it was even more ambitious. She’d thought he’d been sneering at her the whole time, criticizing all the choices she’d made . . . now it looked as if he’d actually been paying serious attention, all the while readying himself for tackling his own grand project. And as he briefly went through the presentation, she was dazzled by his vision. If only Julian were here! He’d be even more amazed than she was.
‘Anyway, I want to see Hugo to discuss all the details,’ Cosmo said. ‘We’re nearly at the green-light stage.’
‘I wish you’d discussed this with me and your father.’ She couldn’t help the peeved tone in her voice.
‘Why? What’s the point? I tried. But Dad thinks it’s a load of old bollocks. He’s got his head so firmly buried in that stupid mine, intent on polluting the planet for profit, that he doesn’t care about the future.’
‘That’s not true,’ Emma said, leaping to Julian’s defence. ‘Most of the platinum he’s mining will be used for catalytic converters.’
‘So why’s he mining in a city that’s already one of the ten most polluted cities in the world?’
‘But Norilsk is above the Arctic Circle,’ Emma said, surprised by Cosmo’s statistic.
‘Which is all the more reason why it should be protected from further development. Did you know that where Dad is right now is so damaged by the mining industry that there isn’t one single tree within a fifty-kilometre radius?’
Emma swallowed hard, horrified by what Cosmo was saying. And confused too. Julian had always made it sound as if the mine was such a good idea, that the platinum would help save huge amounts of carbon emissions, but Cosmo had put a very different slant on it all. And now she couldn’t help worrying about Julian being out there somewhere so grim.
‘I’m sorry you feel like that, darling. Dad is only doing what he thinks is best.’
‘Then he’s a fool.’ Cosmo glanced at her, well aware of how much he’d stung her. ‘But fortunately Hugo can see that what I want to do with this project would do a lot of good for the land,’ he continued.
Emma cleared her throat. She knew that she had to leave the issue of the mine for now. She could see that Cosmo wanted to as well. She mustn’t waste this opportunity of talking about what was important to him by arguing about Julian. ‘You’re obviously very serious about it.’
‘I am. And the beauty of Scotland is that the costs would be so low. We can use sustainable wood from Hugo’s pine forests and Marcus – he’s the engineer – he’s worked out a project for solar and wind power.’
‘Really?’ Emma asked, stunned.
‘There’s sixteen of us who are completely committed to it. Most of them have a skill – carpentry, plumbing. We’d be completely self-sufficient and we could use our template for other communities around the country.’
‘And Hugo knows all this?’ she asked.
‘Yes. And this weekend I’m going to discuss it with him – alone. OK? I don’t need you to mother me through this one.’
Emma nodded, standing up as Gerald came back. ‘OK, it’s your deal, darling, but just for the record, if you want any help, you can count me in.’
‘I’m fine,’ he said, making it clear he wouldn’t be coming to her.
She didn’t say anything as Cosmo closed the laptop. Once again, Emma battled with her feelings. It was her fault that Cosmo felt defensive and she realized too that she would have to be the one to repair the damage she’d done by not taking him seriously. She’d certainly make sure she backed him in front of Hugo. After all this prep work, Cosmo really did deserve a chance to realize his vision.
Cosmo stood up and picked up his bag. Emma laid her hand on his arm.
‘I understand that you want to do this on your own, OK? I would feel just the same if I were you. But I have to tell you, I’m very, very proud of you. Stunned, in fact.’
Cosmo stiffened for a moment, then he grinned. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘I hoped you would be. If I can impress a wily old pro like you, then I guess I’m in with a chance.’
Emma was still smiling to herself as she taxied her plane to the short runway and took off into blue sky. She couldn’t wait to tell Julian about Cosmo. Perhaps he’d ring her when she was at Hugo and Victoria’s. She radioed down to Gerald, then settled back for the flight.
When she’d reached cruising altitude, she glanced over at Cosmo. He’d fallen asleep, his head resting on his hand. She had to quell the urge to take her hands off the controls and stroke his head. He looked so much like he had done when he was a baby and her heart swelled with love.
She was so proud of him. Maybe now that he’d confided in her, this was the dawning of a new age of her relationship with him. And now that he had a proper direction and a solid ambition, Julian would find it easier to give him the support he needed.
How had all this happened without her realizing? Why hadn’t she known about Cosmo’s business relationship with Hugo? She was dying to know what Hugo made of it all. Was he just humouring his godson, or did he really see potential where Julian saw none?
Emma sighed, looking down at the ground way below her. She loved the feeling of flying. It relaxed her in a way that nothing else could, taking her head away from all the arrangements and details that usually clogged her mind. It left her feeling light and refreshed.
Nearly two hours later, they were past Aberdeen and soon they were looking down on the McCorquodales’ estate and the yellow and purple heather-strewn mountains which stretched into the distance in every direction.
From the air, Hugo’s ancestral castle was vast, standing on a raised hill, surrounded by ancient forests. Emma had always thought the grey stone rather austere, but on a day like today, with the wide river sparkling in the sunshine, she could see the romance of the turrets and towers and crenellations.
Cosmo, awake once more, pointed out of the window. ‘Down there! That’s the place,’ he said.
Emma spotted the derelict manor house on the ot
her side of the river. It was much bigger than she remembered. Most of its walls seemed to have collapsed into rubble, and for a moment, she had to fight the urge to blurt out all the pitfalls that were immediately obvious from up here. Access issues, soaring costs, reroofing – that would be a nightmare. Not to mention all the other reasons why his eco-community would be hard to establish in such a remote spot.
And then she realized. Cosmo was like her. What he was proposing was preposterously ambitious. But Cosmo was clearly no quitter. And hadn’t she faced all these problems with Wrentham? And hadn’t she overcome them all, despite everyone saying it couldn’t be done?
Well, maybe Cosmo would pull it off too. She’d certainly do everything in her power to help him. Every step of the way.
‘It looks wonderful,’ she said with a smile, forcing down her motherly urge to tell him how much she’d hate it if he moved this far away from her and Julian. ‘I think you should go for it, darling.’
They touched down on the small landing strip. Eddy, Victoria and Hugo’s butler, was in a blue Land Rover waiting for them. He greeted them warmly and Emma realized how wonderful it was to be here. How much she needed the break.
Soon they were at the gravel drive below the castle and Emma noticed how lovely the gardens were at this time of year, with their banks of rhododendrons in bloom against the dark green ancient yew trees in the background. The lavender hedges on the terrace outside the drawing room, which Emma had planned with Victoria years ago, were fully mature now and formed a wonderful boundary for the outside eating area.
The giant oak front doors were open. Victoria stood in the doorway, shading her eyes against the sun. Emma waved to her, and she waved back. As usual, she was impeccably dressed, today in a yellow cashmere twinset and dog-tooth checked trousers. As Emma bounded out of the Land Rover and started up the great flint-topped stone steps, she saw Victoria turn in the doorway and heard her shouting for Hugo.
‘What a gorgeous day,’ Emma called, running up the remaining steps and giving her oldest friend a hug. ‘I’m so glad we’re here.’
But then Emma felt Victoria shaking against her. She pulled back and looked at Victoria. Her usually perfectly made-up face was haggard and drawn.
‘Oh, Ems,’ Victoria said. Her voice caught in her throat and her eyes were brimming with tears.
‘My God, what is it?’ Emma asked. She’d never seen Victoria upset. Not like this.
‘And Cosmo, darling,’ Victoria said, pulling Cosmo towards her. Cosmo glanced at Emma over his shoulder. Emma could tell that he was as alarmed and bemused as she was.
Hugo appeared from the hallway inside. He was wearing tweed trousers and a button-down cotton shirt. He was tall, but his usual jaunty manner seemed subdued, his bushy eyebrows knitting with concern. Without any form of greeting, he took Emma’s arm, pulling her away from Victoria. ‘Come inside. I think you should both sit down. Let’s go to the library.’
Sit down? The words rang inside Emma’s head. People only asked you to sit down if they had very bad news.
‘What is it?’ Emma asked, but Hugo only shook his head, leading her and Cosmo through the lofty entrance hall with its ancient heraldic banners and through to the sofas by the fire in the library.
Hugo looked as pale as Victoria. Emma racked her brains, wondering what devastating news they could possibly have to make them so visibly upset. A tea tray was laid out by the fireplace.
‘Tell me! Hugo, what is it? What the hell’s going on?’ Emma persisted.
‘Oh, Emma,’ Victoria said, covering her mouth.
Hugo laid his hand on his wife’s. ‘We’ve just had a phone call from Pim.’
Emma felt her heart jolt. ‘Pim? But—’
‘Emma, Cosmo, there’s been some terrible news,’ Hugo continued.
‘What? Is Uncle Pim OK?’ Cosmo asked.
Hugo shook his head. ‘No. No it’s not Pim . . . it’s your . . . I’m afraid it’s Julian.’
‘Julian?’ Emma gasped.
Hugo bit his lip, clearly fighting back emotion.
‘What’s happened?’ Cosmo asked. Emma could hear the fear in his voice.
‘They found him in Russia,’ Victoria said.
‘Found him?’ Emma whispered.
‘He’s . . .’ Victoria began, but couldn’t continue.
No . . . No! A voice started screaming inside Emma’s head. She felt a numbness creeping over her skin. Nausea rose in her throat. No. Don’t let them say it. Not what I think. Don’t let that ever be true . . .
But Hugo kept talking.
‘Emma, Cosmo, I’m so terribly sorry to have to tell you this,’ he said, ‘but Julian has committed suicide.’
‘What?’ Emma whispered.
‘Oh darling,’ Victoria said, bursting into fresh tears. ‘Your poor poor Julian is dead.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dressed in a floor-length, slit-to-the-thigh purple velvet halter dress, with long satin gloves and her hair piled into a dramatic chignon, Peaches parted the crowd as she sashayed up the grand staircase to the white foyer on the first floor of Moscow’s Bolshoi Theatre.
It felt good to be out, surrounded by strangers. She’d had the most insane week of her life. Her phone was filled with messages, from LA, New York, London and Paris, but she couldn’t leave Moscow. She’d moved her mother and Yana into her hotel suite, quadrupling Yana’s wages and buying in special drugs from a private clinic that Yana had told her about. She wanted her mother to be as comfortable as possible.
And she wanted to be close to her too. To listen – when her mother had enough strength to talk – to the stories which Yana patiently translated. With everything she heard, Peaches felt as if her life was pulling into focus. She sifted the information her mother gave her over and over, searching for links, however tenuous, that would connect her to her past, and hard facts that would determine her actions in the future.
The dreamy way in which Irena spoke about her youth fascinated Peaches. Her mother, like her, had once been a performer: a celebrated dancer, and then a cabaret singer, drawing men from all over Moscow to see her late-night performances.
One young man came more than any other. A rookie who came from the back streets; a hustler with nothing to lose. He courted Irena and eventually she succumbed to his relentless advances. Within a year, she’d given up performing and was living in a small apartment with him, helping him get enough money together to enrol in the Institute of Oil and Gas. They married one Saturday in the cold of winter.
For a while they were happy. He was making money in those early days, thanks to her. Irena helped grow his illegal factories, making clothes at night for the black market. But as soon as he realized he was depending on her, jealous of her natural business acumen, he stopped being interested.
Soon, Irena was left running the factory whilst he siphoned off the profits and left her to live in squalor. When she threatened to leave him, he beat her up.
She soon discovered that he had other lovers in apartments all over town and she didn’t dare tell him that she was pregnant with his child.
By now, Irena had fallen in love with Tomin, the foreman of the factory. He loved her back, promising to look after her and her child. But Irena couldn’t leave for fear of what her husband would do. She knew she was being watched all the time.
Then her child was born and Irena called her Anna, after her mother. Her husband beat her for not having a boy, but Irena loved her child and took her everywhere.
After three years, Irena could stand her life of hardship no more. Tomin had been left some money and they planned to escape. But her husband found out. He came in the night when they were leaving. He made Tomin lie on top of Irena, then shot him in the head, leaving Irena to clean up his remains.
He then told Irena that he didn’t believe the child was his. Irena protested, but he said he was going to kill Anna. Irena begged him to stop, that she would do anything for him as long as he didn’t harm Anna. He agreed to
let the child live, but not before he’d branded her back with the sickle-shaped poker they used to mark the cartons of clothes in the factory.
Peaches had wept when she’d heard this. She’d told Irena and Yana how she’d been haunted by a memory of that awful day: voices, screaming, the feeling of fear.
But there was no relief for her in solving the mystery of how she’d got her scar. No closure. No feeling that everything slotted into place.
Not when she heard the next, terrible part of Irena’s story.
Weeks had passed. Irena tended her traumatized child, using old gypsy potions to heal the sickle-shaped burn mark on her back. And all the while she grieved deeply for Tomin, gathering a secret collection from the workers to pay for a headstone for him in the cemetery.
Once again, her husband found out. He came to her, drunk and violent. She stood up to him, so angry at what he had done to Tomin that she was convinced he couldn’t hurt her any more. But she was wrong.
Seeing he hadn’t crushed Irena’s spirit, he thought of an even worse punishment. He took Anna, taunting Irena, telling her that she’d never see her child again. Irena told him that she would scour the globe until she found her daughter. That he would never, never stop her from seeing Anna, no matter what he did. And that was when he ordered his henchman Gorsky to burn Irena’s eyes out with a poker.
Peaches shuddered every time she thought about how her mother had spoken these words in agony and how Yana had broken down after translating them. Peaches had never felt so helpless. She’d known cruelty before, but this . . . this was something quite new. She realized now how easy it had been not to have formed any attachments in her life, how pain-free life was when you didn’t care. But for the first time, Peaches did care. She cared deeply and passionately. She ached for Irena and the life she’d spent longing and praying in loneliness.
Peaches had gone back over her entire life. All the bad things that had happened – the abuse at the hands of Albert Rockbine, then the cheap, undignified way she’d sold herself in those early days – had all been because of one man.
