AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Molly smiled with pride; she’d played this one perfectly.
As soon as the renovations on The Standlings were completed, Molly had been in a hurry to show them off to as many people as possible, but she knew a string of dinner parties would be both tedious and expensive, so had decided that the best way to showcase the house was to play to its strength as a quintessentially English manor. Her idea of throwing a Saturday afternoon garden fête came to her when she read an article about Liz Hurley’s new life in Gloucestershire. As soon as she’d had the thought, she’d known it was genius. Genius. It would show a softer, philanthropic side, with key people from the village being invited for rustic colour and all profits from the tombola and coconut shy going to anti-seal-clubbing or whatever was hot that month.
The day of the fête, The Standlings looked like the Garden of Eden. The sun was shining, the flowerbeds were bursting with jasmine and sweet peas, the rose garden was in full bloom and the lawns had been mowed into two-tone stripes of soft and vivid emerald green. All along them, tents and stalls were doing a bustling trade. Molly’s beauty therapist friend was offering Indian head massages by the potting shed, the Women’s Institute were manning a jam stall and the raffle was bursting with all manner of pashminas, jewellery and perfume that had failed to meet their reserves on eBay. In the lower field, there was a bouncy castle in the shape of a pirate ship and the local scout pack were offering pony rides. Oiling the wheels was a jolly Victorian-themed bar run by Len Barry, landlord of the local pub, who had a stonking crush on Molly. Len was also overseeing the barbecue, which was grilling delicious meat and sausages provided by the Delemere farm shop. It was fun, it was elegant, it was respectable.
‘I thought we were having a small barbecue,’ laughed Marcus, hooking an arm around Molly’s shoulder. They were standing on the terrace overlooking the lawns, the smell of candyfloss and sausages wafting around them.
‘If you’re going to do a job, you have to do it properly,’ she smiled, resting her head on his shoulder.
‘You’re wonderful, you know that?’ replied Marcus.
Molly moved even closer towards him, like a Siamese cat rubbing against its owner, knowing she had scored a bull’s-eye.
The village fête idea appealed to Marcus’s closeted country-gent side, the side that wanted to keep horses and play lord of the manor in his big house in the Chilterns. Ever since the drink-driving episode, she had felt her relationship with Marcus cool a little. He could be such a sanctimonious little prick sometimes, demanding she stop drinking, smoking, having fun. Well, if he wanted the dutiful little village wifey with no vices, he could have it, she thought slyly – the image of it, anyway. But today’s triumph seemed to have warmed things right up and she knew her timing was perfect. When Marcus thought she was doing Pilates in the bedroom, she was listening, always listening. She had loitered outside his study late at night, eavesdropping, waiting for some nugget of information. And now, it seemed, it was here. Stock options. Cashing in. It was all music to Molly’s ears. Something was brewing at the Midas Corporation and, one way or another, she was going to have part of it.
Karin was secretly seething. Either Marcus had instructed some top-flight events company, or she had underestimated Molly. The Standlings village fête was fabulous; traditional without being stuffy, fun without being cheesy. She had even won a Hermès scarf on the tombola. And the turnout was remarkable; even the sprinkling of Great Horsham village locals gave it a certain homespun charm, although the presence of Diana and Christina – apparently they and Molly had all struck up some sort of bizarre friendship at the detox weekend – had made her bristle. But what had irked her the most was the presence of that glamorous blonde banker Claudia Falcon, whom she had spotted laughing with Marcus about ten minutes ago at the jam stall. The woman certainly looked good today. Her blonde bob had been pulled back into a chignon, she looked relaxed in a pair of wide linen palazzo pants, some Grecian sandals and a beautifully cut vest-top. Stop being so paranoid and relax, thought Karin. She took a deep breath and reminded herself what Lysette had said in Paris: How do you know it’s her?
‘You don’t get this in Manhattan,’ said Adam, coming up behind her, carrying a tankard of beer. ‘It’s a really good day, isn’t it?’
‘You fired Molly from the Midas Corporation, remember? Now is not the time to start eulogizing about her work. She’ll have you for unfair dismissal before you know it.’
‘I didn’t fire her,’ replied Adam, still smiling. ‘Her contract was up. She was working on a case-by-case basis.’
Yeah, right, thought Karin, sipping her iced tea. Nothing to do with her shagging around on your best friend.
‘Anyway, what are people like Cl
audia Falcon doing here?’ she asked innocently. ‘I didn’t know Marcus wanted it to be a work thing.’
‘It isn’t. But why miss an opportunity like today to keep good people happy?’
‘Kay, honey, there you are,’ said Christina, trotting up with a large tumbler of Pimms and taking her arm. ‘Come on, Molly is desperate for us to come look at the house. Diana and Donna are already in there.’
Karin rolled her eyes as Adam kissed her on the cheek and went to join Marcus and Claudia at the tombola.
‘Can you believe this place?’ said Karin to Christina, still trying to keep her eye on Adam. ‘It’s like a Jilly Cooper wet-dream.’
‘I think it’s rather fabulous. Highgrove chic,’ said Christina as they climbed the stone steps away from the gardens into the house.
‘She’s hardly Camilla Parker Bowles is she?’ said Karin.
‘Not yet, darling, not yet.’
Inside, they found Molly was giving the guided tour to Diana and Donna in the master bedroom.
‘Marcus didn’t want anything structural done to the place so it’s all cosmetic,’ said Molly, pointing out the newly hung eau-de-nil silk damask walls and cream shot taffeta hanging at the windows. ‘As you can see there’s bags of room up here and lots more scope for improvement: a second study, nursery.’
‘A nursery?’ said Karin, lifting an eyebrow, ‘and who would that be for?’
‘You never know,’ said Molly tartly, looking Karin up and down. ‘Some of us are still of age.’
Molly took Karin and Diana downstairs for a look at the drawing room, then showed them through the French windows so they could sit out on the patio away from the crowds. They watched Molly and Christina walk arm in arm over to the bouncy castle, their high heels sinking into the grass.
‘Can you believe she’s thinking about a nursery?’ laughed Karin. ‘I bet her ovaries dried up about five years ago.’
When there was no response from Diana, Karin looked back at her friend. ‘You’re quiet.’
‘Oh, I’m fine’ said Diana. Karin frowned and searched her face for clues. Diana certainly looked impeccable, and things seemed to be going well for her family. Martin had just floated his online betting company, which had been valued at over £1 billion pounds, the offering heavily oversubscribed. Overnight, Martin and Diana were worth over £500 million, and they could have sold the shares five times over. But still, Karin thought she saw a sadness in Diana’s face.
