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‘I want to receive my guests in the main hall. The florists will decorate it, of course. I shall be using a top London firm and…’
As she listened to her Polly could feel herself getting angrier and angrier. The walled garden was her domain, a private garden, not available to the hotel guests and for Marcus to have given his agreement that Suzi could have access to it without first consulting her felt like a burning brand applied to her bare skin. Such pain should have been cauterising, she recognised, burning away the disease of her unwanted love, but…
‘We’ll be bringing in our own chef, of course; Phil is flying him in from the Caribbean. Everything in the marquee is going to be colour-themed to tie in with my dress, all the guests must wear black or white, and…Oh, have you told her yet?’ she demanded sharply of Marcus as she looked at Polly for the first time.
And then, without waiting for Marcus to reply, she told Polly, ‘We’ll be taking over the hotel completely for the wedding so it won’t be necessary for you to be here. Phil seemed to think you might have some holiday allocation you could use up. We could offer you a room at the Cay but I don’t think it would be your style,’ she told Polly disdainfully.
She wrinkled her nose as she turned to Marcus, her hand resting possessively on his arm as she said sweetly, ‘I did suggest to Phil that we should perhaps think of hiring Richard Branson’s island, but he put his foot down…because of my…condition…’ She removed her hand from Marcus’s arm to pat her stomach complacently. ‘He’s beside himself at the thought of having a son. Have you seen the earrings he’s just bought me?’ As she moved her head the large diamond studs in her ears caught the light, sending dazzling soft lights dancing around the room, but it wasn’t that that was making Polly feel so giddy and light-headed.
‘You’re…you’re marrying Phil,’ she interrupted Suzi’s self-congratulatory monologue huskily. ‘It’s you and Phil…’
‘Yes. I’m sorry, I did warn you that he was mine, didn’t I?’ she told Polly, giving her a sharp-toothed little smile. ‘Phil and I go back a long way, even if we have both let our pride keep us apart for far too long. He admits that he’s glad now that my contract meant he couldn’t fire me and that having to work alongside me meant that he could never really get me out of his system.
‘We’re both sorry for any disappointment you’ve had, but I know you’ll understand that naturally Phil wants me to take over the running of the London hotel now. He’s going to base himself in London for the next few years. It makes sense, of course, especially if we want to get little Philip into one of the top nursery schools. I think the right kind of schooling is so important for a boy, don’t you?’ she asked Marcus, giving him a flirtatious smile.
‘I think the most vital ingredient to any child’s wellbeing is knowing he or she is loved,’ Marcus replied quietly, whilst Polly struggled to take on board what she had just learned.
Suzi was marrying Phil and not Marcus; Suzi was having Phil’s child and not Marcus’s…So why had Suzi made that extraordinary verbal attack on her that time in London when she had accosted her as she’d left Phil’s hotel?
Phil’s hotel! Suddenly Polly understood; Suzi had no doubt thought she had spent the night with Phil and not Marcus, and that was why…
At long last Suzi had finished delivering her list of requirements. As she swept towards the exit she turned round and told Polly patronisingly, ‘Oh, Phil did say to tell you that if he hears of anything coming up that might suit you he’d be in touch, but I really think you’d be better off staying here…I must go now, otherwise I’m going to be late. We’re flying to Paris for dinner. Phil is taking me shopping there.’
Once she had gone the foyer seemed blissfully quiet and empty. Marcus, who had gone with her to her car, came back just as Polly was mouthing the words ‘Suzi is going to marry Phil’.
‘Suzi is going to marry Phil,’ she repeated out loud.
‘Yes,’ Marcus agreed soberly, telling her quietly, ‘Look, Polly, I know you won’t thank me for saying this but…if you want my opinion he was never the right man for you.’
‘Because I’m too old for him?’ Polly asked him dryly.
‘No,’ Marcus responded fiercely. ‘No…Age has nothing to do with it…nothing at all.’
‘Oh? That wasn’t what you implied to me when—’
‘He isn’t good enough for you, Polly. No way. No way at all…I know how you feel about him, how hurt you must be, how hard this must be for you…God knows, I’ve been there myself…’
