The parents weren’t talking. Milly had sweated over whether to tell Mum about what she’d discovered, and now she wished she hadn’t. But it had tormented her for so long. It had to be said. And now Dad and Mum were ice-cool with each other, barely polite.
The best thing to do was keep out of their way. She did a few laps of the indoor pool, happy that Harlan wasn’t here. She didn’t know what he got up to in the city, and she didn’t want to know, either. Dull business stuff, she guessed. Learning all about brocades and sofa stuffing. Really riveting. After she got bored with the pool, she decided to go down to the gatehouse and find Belle, have a chat.
She dried off, combed out her hair, dressed and set off down the drive. Maybe she’d stay for lunch, escape the parents and the frosty atmosphere; Jill always made her welcome. Felt sorry for her, she supposed, with Nula half off her head most of the time, Charlie always raging.
When she got close to the gatehouse, she let herself in the little gate in the picket fence and was approaching the front door up the path when she heard voices coming from the back garden. She could hear Belle’s voice, and Nipper’s. Something Nipper was saying brought her up short against the house wall.
‘. . . why would you get your knickers in a twist about that? It’s just sex. Just fun. That’s all. I told you.’
‘Yeah, well. I’m not sure that’s all it is for Milly.’
‘Christ, I hope it is.’ Nipper gave a harsh laugh, and it was an ugly sound, gloating, unkind. ‘Grow up, for Christ’s sake. Look, Milly’s glad someone’s shagging her, and I’m getting some relief whenever I’m stuck down here – which, thank Christ, isn’t too often any more – without any complications.’
Milly listened and felt like she was going to throw up. His voice was horrible. Cold. Dismissive. They’d been going out for quite a while now and this was what he truly thought about her. They’d last slept together only days ago. She felt tears of humiliation start in her eyes and run down her cheeks.
‘Milly?’
It was Jill, coming up the path toward her.
Milly started guiltily, shoved herself away from the wall, swiped wetness from her eyes. She didn’t answer. Then Belle appeared from the back garden; she’d been riding this morning and she was wearing jodhpurs. Nipper appeared too.
Oh Christ!
Milly shoved her way past Jill and lumbered off down the path, flinging open the gate. Behind her she could hear them all talking, Jill’s voice mingling with Belle’s and Nipper’s. She had to get away, back to the main house, she couldn’t face any of them right now, she couldn’t bear them to know she’d heard that.
‘Milly!’
Someone was tugging at her arm, halting her. It was Belle, her face a picture of concern.
‘Milly, stop! We . . . what are you—’
Milly felt swamped with rage then. Perfect, pretty Belle. No one would ever shag her as an act of charity, would they?
‘You knew,’ she gasped out.
‘What—’ Belle looked pale all of a sudden.
‘You knew he was making use of me. I heard you, the pair of you, having a laugh at my expense. You knew what he was doing, and you let it carry on, you didn’t tell me, Christ I hate you.’ Milly wrenched her arm from Belle’s grasp and ran on, up the drive. A long black car swept past, going up to the house, but she barely even noticed.
‘Milly, I didn’t . . .’ Belle was saying, but Milly didn’t stop.
Nipper would have to look elsewhere for his charity shags in future, because she didn’t want to know. Not any more. Anyway, didn’t she have other avenues open to her? That new guy of her dad’s, Sammy, liked her. And creepy old Javier Matias had been sending her flowers, asking her to dine alone with him.
Milly knew that Dad was encouraging Javier in his pursuit of his daughter; she wasn’t a fool. Charlie was thinking of strengthening his ties with his business associate, who apparently supplied him with cut-price cotton and stuffing from somewhere in Brazil, and if he could nudge his daughter toward Javier, she knew that he’d be chuffed to bits. She was nothing more than a pawn, being used by every bastard that passed by – even by her own family!
‘Milly!’ Belle was trying to keep up with her. Her face was pleading. ‘Oh come on. You’re my friend, Mills. I warned you about him, you know I did. But you were dead set on carrying on with it. What could I do?’
Milly ground to a halt. Her face was twisted with rage and exertion.
‘Oh poor you! Poor bloody Belle, what a tragedy for you all this has turned out to be. But no, not really, is it? Because you’re still perfect and pretty with your lovely family, and I’m just a fat convenient nobody that imbecile screws when there’s nothing better on offer. I’ve got a loony for a mother and a father who’s always losing it and kicking the fucking furniture.’ Milly heaved in a breath. ‘You can fucking well stay away from me in future. You got that? You just stay away.’
And she turned on her heel and fled, leaving Belle staring after her.
Back up at the house, the long black car that had passed her on the drive was parked up. To her dismay she found Javier waiting for her on the porch. He was nearly dwarfed by the huge bouquet of pale shell-pink roses he was carrying.
‘For you,’ he said with his greasy gold-toothed smile.
‘Thanks,’ said Milly, awkwardly aware of Sammy sitting there by the open front door, watching this exchange.
‘You are so welcome,’ he said in his excellent English. ‘Where is your pretty little friend? Belle, isn’t that her name? I saw you down at the gatehouse, talking to her.’
‘She’s busy,’ said Milly. Every man from nine to ninety wanted to know about Belle.
‘Dinner, perhaps? Tonight?’ he offered.
‘No. I don’t think so. I’ve got a headache,’ said Milly. ‘Sorry, I’ve got to lie down.’
She could see he wasn’t pleased. But fuck it, she thought as she hared off up the stairs clutching the huge bouquet, fuck the lot of them. She didn’t give a stuff.