The Tides of Change

by Joanna Rees

  ‘Because . . .’ Peaches said. She paused. She shook her head, as if to say that she could hardly believe herself what she was about to tell them. ‘Because . . . he’s my father.’

  Frankie assumed she’d misheard.

  ‘Khordinsky’s your what?’ Emma asked. She glanced at Frankie and Frankie could tell she was just as astounded as she was.

  Frankie listened in astonished silence as Peaches told them her story, right from the start. Frankie experienced that terrible crushing sensation again, just as when she’d been thrown off Pushkin by Richard on the orders of the boss. It was the feeling of her whole world being rocked. Of everything she knew being thrown in the air.

  Even her most outlandish assumptions about Peaches Gold hadn’t come close to this. She was Khordinsky’s daughter. But she was American. A Hollywood madam. It couldn’t be true.

  But as she listened, she discovered that it not only could be, but it was. Why would Peaches make something like this up when, with every sentence, Frankie watched her brow darken with shame and pain?

  She recounted her shock at Gorsky contacting her and what he’d told her in the jail. And then she told them about finding Irena in Moscow. She described Irena’s burnt-out eyes and about how Khordinsky had stolen Peaches away from Irena when Peaches was three, breaking Irena’s heart. And she told them, too, about how she’d been smuggled into America and sold to a paedophile.

  Khordinsky had sold his own little girl. Deliberately. Into a childhood of horrible abuse.

  Peaches spoke clearly. Succinctly. But above all, without emotion. Her voice could have been that of a documentary-maker, summarizing someone else’s tragic life, not her own. It was as if she was distancing herself, building a wall between the person she was now and the frightened child she’d once been. She was telling both them and herself that nothing as bad as that would ever happen to her again.

  Only her face gave her away.

  Frankie felt her whole perception of Peaches shifting. Even if Peaches hadn’t truly processed any of this horrendous information, even if she was deep in denial, she’d refused to let her life become derailed. In fact, she’d done the opposite. She’d kept going full speed ahead. Frankie realized that Peaches, rather than being just a hard-nosed hooker, was in fact something else entirely. She was the gutsiest most awesome woman Frankie had ever met.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever talked this much . . . to anyone,’ Peaches said eventually. Frankie could tell that she felt exposed.

  Emma reached forward and touched Peaches’ hand and Peaches flinched. She glanced up, her eyes guarded. For a moment, Peaches looked like she regretted having said anything at all.

  ‘But I’m telling you this because of what you told me. If we’re going to work together, we have to be honest with each other. If we’re going to stand a chance of somehow nailing this bastard, we’re going to have to stand together as one. No bullshit.’

  ‘No bullshit,’ Frankie agreed.

  ‘For what it’s worth, I think you’re incredible, Peaches,’ Emma said. ‘I’m amazed you’ve survived at all.’

  ‘And so brave to have tackled Khordinsky like that,’ Frankie added. ‘If I’d found out what you did, I don’t know what I’d have done. But I know I’d never have had the guts to go for him head-on like you did.’

  ‘Yeah, well, either I’m very brave or very stupid. I’m not sure which,’ Peaches said. ‘But it makes no difference. I failed.’

  ‘You got close, though,’ Emma said. ‘Close enough to confront him. Closer than either of us have managed so far.’

  ‘And if you managed it once, maybe we can do it again,’ Frankie said.

  ‘But not to physically attack him,’ Emma said. ‘I need you to know that, Peaches. Right from the start. I’m not a killer and I don’t want to become one.’

  ‘Even though you think he’s responsible for your husband’s death?’ Peaches asked.

  ‘Even then.’

  ‘I believe in fighting fire with fire,’ Peaches said.

  ‘You’ve already tried that,’ Emma reminded her. ‘And you were the one who got burnt.’

  ‘I did it because I had no other choice,’ Peaches said. ‘I wasn’t even sure I’d go through with it until I saw him. But then I knew it was the only way to really hurt him.’

  ‘What about going after him with a lawyer?’ Frankie suggested. ‘Let him know you’re his daughter. With info like that, you could really make him pay – financially. Which is probably as good a way to hurt him as any.’

  Peaches shook her head. ‘It’s not about money. I can always get money for myself. No, the thing is, I looked into his eyes and I know what he’s capable of doing. He did it to my mother. I know how evil he is. When you look into someone’s eyes and you see they aren’t human like you are, then there’s no point in trying to reason with them.’

  ‘I met a man like that once. Another Russian. Dimitry Sergeyokov. He came to Julian’s party. He stared at me like I was nothing. Just a piece of meat he could devour,’ Emma said.

  ‘Who did you say?’ Peaches asked, sitting forward.

  ‘There was this guy in charge of Julian’s deal, Dimitry Sergeyokov,’ Emma explained. ‘He’s the one who stole all of Julian’s money.’

  ‘I met him,’ Peaches said. ‘He works for Khordinsky. I was with someone who told me he was disappearing for a while.’

  Emma gasped. There was a moment of silence as this new information sunk in.

  ‘See,’ Emma told Frankie. Her eyes were bright with triumph, but Frankie could see the tears welling up. ‘Didn’t I tell you that Khordinsky was behind the Platinum collapse all along?’ Emma turned to Peaches. ‘Cosmo,’ she said, ‘my son. He’s out there now, trying to find out what really happened to our money. Trying to find Sergeyokov. Oh shit.’ She buried her head in her hands. ‘It really is Khordinsky he’s up against. And Cosmo’s all I have left.’

  ‘It’s going to be all right,’ Frankie said, trying to sound strong for her.

  ‘How do you know?’ Emma asked.

  ‘Because we’re going to make it all right.’

  ‘How?’

  Frankie could hear the desperation in Emma’s voice, but she had no answer. Not yet. But what she did know now, thanks to Peaches, was that if Khordinsky was behind the collapse of Platinum Holdings, then Khordinsky was almost certainly also behind Frankie’s own abduction in Tortola.

  ‘Look what happened before,’ Emma said, swiping angrily at her tears.

  ‘What?’ Peaches asked. ‘What happened before?’

  Frankie took a deep breath. She told Peaches about breaking into Detroy’s office to find the files on Platinum Reach and how she’d been abducted and photographed. And how Emma’s face had been slashed.

  Of course Frankie had speculated as much already. Who but Khordinsky would be sick enough to have had her abducted? Who but Khordinsky would be clever enough to have had photographs of her taken like that? Killing her would have been too risky. Alex might have decided to go looking for her if she’d simply disappeared. The photos were much smarter: insurance to turn Alex against her for ever. And who but Khordinsky would have thugs willing to do that for him?

  But now she and Emma had the proof. Khordinsky really had been pulling the strings all along.

  Her greatest fear was that Alex might be lost already. Because if Khordinsky had already shown Alex those photos . . .

  ‘They probably used Rohypnol,’ Peaches said. ‘You been checked out?’ she asked. ‘Had tests?’

  Frankie nodded. ‘They didn’t . . . I mean, I was lucky. There was no indication of penetration . . . They just posed me . . . to make it look like . . .’

  She knew she would have to be strong. What she’d been through was nothing compared to how Peaches had suffered, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She’d racked her brains over and over. She may have been defenceless and hardly conscious, but the photos sure as hell didn’t look like it. It made her feel as if a part of he
r had been stolen. A part she was desperate to get back.

  She became aware of Peaches gazing at her. Her eyes were no longer hard, but searching.

  ‘Hey, Frankie, I understand,’ Peaches said.

  ‘Do you?’ she asked.

  ‘Just because I work in the industry I do doesn’t mean that I approve of people taking advantage of a girl. Quite the opposite, in fact. No, honey, take it from me, what those bastards did was unforgivable. And we’re going to get them, OK?’

  Frankie nodded.

  ‘But how?’ Emma asked again. ‘It’s all very well knowing all of this, but who’s going to believe us? Khordinsky’s impossible to get close to. And we’ve got no hard proof. We need documents. Accounts. We came to a dead end in Tortola but we need a solid trail leading to Khordinsky. Evidence that would stand up in court.’

  ‘Well, maybe we don’t have all that, but everyone has an Achilles heel,’ Peaches said. ‘We’ve just got to find his. You got any ideas?’

  And suddenly Frankie remembered that day Alex had kissed her in his study. ‘Well, maybe . . . ’ she said. ‘Maybe. It’s a long shot. I don’t know if it will work . . . ’

  ‘Shoot,’ Peaches said. ‘We need every idea we can get.’

  After an hour, the three women hadn’t stopped talking as they hatched out a plan.

  ‘I just want to make it clear again,’ Emma said. ‘I don’t want any of us to attack him head on again. It’s too risky. I don’t want to kill him. I want something more painful than that.’

  ‘OK. I want him to lose everything, then,’ Peaches said. ‘The whole shebang. Everything that he holds dear. All his money. I want him ruined.’

  ‘And I want Alex away from him for ever,’ Frankie said. ‘And for Alex to know that it was Khordinsky who drove us apart.’

  ‘And I want Cosmo home safely,’ Emma said. ‘And then for everyone to know what Khordinsky did to Julian. Total public humiliation. You think we can do it?’

  ‘You bet,’ Peaches said, smiling. ‘Between the three of us, we’re going to bring that son-of-a-bitch down. For good.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  It wasn’t until Peaches’ driver, Paul, had picked Frankie and Peaches up in a limousine at LAX airport that Frankie realized that agreeing to go back once more to LA, but this time with Peaches, to work on the first step of their plan may be even more of an eye-opener than she’d bargained for.

  ‘Peaches, if you don’t mind me asking, how do people – I mean your clients – actually find you?’ she asked as they left the airport and joined the slow-moving lanes of traffic on the freeway. Peaches had already outlined the basics of her business to Frankie and Emma: the services she provided; the kind of girls who worked for her; the kind of men she provided them to. And, of course, how much she charged. Hollywood Madam 101.

  But there was still a great deal Frankie didn’t understand, and she was so curious. So in awe of Peaches’ exoticism. She’d never met a madam before and she doubted she ever would again. She wasn’t going to miss out on the opportunity to find out all she could. Her natural thirst for knowledge demanded it. But she was annoyed with herself for sounding prim.

  Peaches glanced at her, her pen poised above the open black book on the armrest in between them. ‘Word of mouth, mostly. People always find me, if they want me. What you’ll see if you hang around with me might shock you, but I haven’t invited you into all this so you can pass judgement on me. You got it?’

  ‘Sure, Peaches,’ Frankie said, wishing she’d kept her big mouth shut. ‘Of course.’

  Peaches smiled, softening her tone. ‘Don’t worry, Frankie. I’ll look after you.’ She looked at her phone, which was playing a ‘Hey! Big Spender’ ring tone. ‘Oh Lord, look, there’s another call. Excuse me, hon. I’m afraid there’s a stack waiting.’

  Frankie craned her neck to stare at the palm trees and billboards and the bright LA day outside. Despite everything that had happened, she couldn’t help feeling a frisson of excitement at being here. She couldn’t believe how far she’d come since cleaning toilets on Pushkin. She’d wanted so desperately for something exciting to happen. She’d wanted to get out and see the world. And now she was in Los Angeles. With Peaches Gold, no less.

  After everything they’d told each other in Todd’s apartment, the lines of communication now seemed wide open. Peaches had been as good as her word: no bullshit. No topics of conversation had so far appeared to be off limits. Nothing was taboo. Already Frankie had discussed more aspects of Peaches and Emma’s lives with them than she’d done with other friends she’d known for years. It was as if the speed with which they’d been thrown together and progressed their plans had, in turn, accelerated their friendship. It was exactly as Peaches had predicted: they were becoming a team. Fast.

  It had been tough saying goodbye to Emma at JFK. Emma was taking the plane for London via Switzerland, where she was going to retrieve all the documents in Julian’s safety deposit box in the bank. Hugo and Victoria were going to meet her. Hugo had had word from Cosmo and Emma was anxious to hear what had happened. As Frankie had hugged her, wishing her luck and assuring her that they’d see each other really soon, she’d felt tears welling up. Emma had been her rock for the past few weeks and she was scared about being apart from her.

  But Peaches had had no time for sentimentalism. She was far too busy. On the plane, she’d enlisted Frankie’s help in choosing the final shots for the lingerie catalogue from the stills that Tenzin Marisco had emailed over. Frankie never imagined she’d have an opinion on nipple tassels, or whether Monica DuCane looked better in the black or the red lace thong, let alone help Peaches compare costings on the best champagne to serve at her secret sex party. But Frankie had as good a head for figures as anyone and it was good to be of use.

  She smiled to herself. It was funny how mundane even the glamour industry became when you reduced it to income and expenditure.

  But she wanted to impress Peaches, and she knew she could learn a lot from her, too. Frankie had already worked out that one thing was for sure: Peaches Gold was as smart as one of the whips in her catalogue. The lingerie line was a sure-fire hit in the making. She had a great marketing plan and a seductive brand. Frankie reckoned that Peaches was on course for making even more legitimately than she did underground.

  She might end up working for Peaches’ brand full-time, Frankie speculated. Help her launch the range. Why not? If Alex refused to forgive her, it might be the only fallback position she had. After all, she was unemployed and she couldn’t rely on Todd bailing her out for ever.

  Enough idle speculation, she told herself. Her future was wide open but the future she wanted most was her and Alex’s. Not her and Peaches’. And Peaches’ future was far from decided itself. As Frankie listened to her now on the phone, it was clear that she was not going fully legit just yet.

  Frankie’s mind boggled at the potential identities of the callers on the other end. The genders were easy to guess. If it was a man, Peaches laughed and flirted and sounded as if she had all the time in the world. If it was one of her girls, she sounded matter-of-fact, even maternal. She could switch between the two with such ease, that Frankie couldn’t help wondering who the real Peaches was: the madam or the mommy.

  She sure had a thriving business, Frankie concluded, even if it was illegal. Now that she was seeing Peaches’ operation first hand, Frankie admired her more and more. She had a way of making it all sound so normal – that it was only sex. It was as if she was merely providing her clients with secretaries or cleaners, rather than call girls and dominatrixes. It was all utterly matter-of-fact and friendly.

  What amazed Frankie most was the huge numbers of men prepared to cheat on their wives and girlfriends. But Peaches was unfazed – amused even by Frankie’s disapproval when she brought this up.

  ‘Hey, this is just a normal day.’

  ‘But there’re so many,’ Frankie said.

  ‘Men want sex. Period,’ Peaches told her. ‘And
they’ll find a way to get it. It’s just the way of the world.’

  But Frankie didn’t want to believe her. Not all men were unfaithful, surely? Alex hadn’t gone with Peaches’ girls, Frankie reminded herself. If their plan worked and she got Alex back, he’d be just hers, wouldn’t he?

  Because the sex they’d had hadn’t been just sex. It had meant so much more than that. When he’d been inside her, holding her close, looking into her eyes, Frankie had felt as if he’d been looking into her soul.

  But then she thought of the last time she’d seen him in Cannes and the pain in his voice, and Frankie felt fresh doubts creeping through her mind, like shadows from her darkest nightmares.

  She forced herself to keep focused. To sweep away those doubts. To hold the faith.

  Alex loved her. She knew he did. Even if he didn’t think he did now, he had when they’d been together. Before he’d been tricked into thinking she was something she could never be. He couldn’t just switch love that powerful on and off like a tap, could he? There must be a part of him that still cared for her.

  There had to be. Because when Peaches had said that Khordinsky had to have an Achilles heel, Frankie knew exactly what it was.

  Alex. Khordinsky trusted him completely. He was his heir apparent, his protégé, the son he’d never had. The person he trusted to take over his businesses; the respectable face that Khordinsky had nurtured from a boy, to hide behind now. Yes, Frankie knew that Alex was Khordinsky’s weak spot, because Frankie believed with all her heart something that Khordinsky had failed to grasp: Alex was essentially good.

  Frankie knew from her time in Morocco with him that Alex was a man whose instinct was to save children, not sell them. And whatever evil and corrupt path Khordinsky had attempted to lead him down, Alex had not become a creature of corruption like his master. He didn’t go with the prostitutes. He hadn’t murdered Peaches. He had integrity. And decency.

  Which was why Frankie was determined to hack into Forest Holdings using the passwords she’d set up for Alex in his office. If they still worked, and if she got in, she’d look for something – anything – that might prove to Alex that Khordinsky and Sergeyokov had deliberately ruined Julian. Stolen from him. Defrauded him. Driven him to his death. If she could do that – provide Alex with hard evidence of the corruption Khordinsky was responsible for – then Frankie might just be able to get Alex on their side, because she already knew from what he’d told her that Alex believed the business he was fronting for Khordinsky was legitimate. If she could prove to him his master was treating him like a fool, then it might be enough to turn Alex. Faced with the truth, he might just help them to bring Khordinsky down.