Innocent in the Ivory Tower

‘Hello,’ she said abruptly to the woman standing closest to her. ‘I’m Maisy.’

‘Stefania,’ said the girl, beaming at her, then darting a look at Alexei.

‘Maisy, this is Valery and Ivanka Abramov, and Stiva and Stefania Lieven. Maisy Edmonds.’

‘Alexei has told us absolutely nothing about you,’ said Stiva, giving Alexei a curious look.

‘Well, I’m sure we can get to know her now,’ interposed the brunette Ivanka.

She gave Maisy a wink, and instantly some of the tension in Maisy’s shoulders eased.

‘Your dress is gorgeous,’ Stefania joined in. ‘Who designed it?’

‘I don’t know,’ Maisy said, darting a nervous look towards Alexei. ‘Sorry.’

She could have kicked herself. She sounded like a complete moron. But the other girls were chattering on about designers, and the two men, although speaking to Alexei, kept glancing her way with reassuring smiles, helping her feel welcomed to their inner circle.

She appreciated their effort, but everything about these two couples screamed ‘married’ and it only made her feel more isolated. Not to mention the fact Stefania kept being roped back into Stiva’s arms, giggling and blushing. Anyone with eyes in their head could see they were in love. And, whilst Ivanka was more circumspect, there was an easy quality between her and Valery. All she and Alexei had was this wall, and she couldn’t see over it, had no idea how to begin scaling it, and doubted it was ever going to come down.

After half an hour Ivanka drifted away to make a phone call regarding her children and Alexei moved Maisy on, although she could see he was reluctant. These were clearly his friends, and the people he had spoken of who would be staying at the house. The rest were the crowd. Yet he made his way dutifully through them and Maisy trailed him. Whenever he smiled at her or touched her it was for public consumption.

He detached himself from her after several introductions, making sure she had a glass of mineral water in her hand, brushing her fingertips with his lips—once more for show, she realised sadly. Fortunately she managed to drift and be drawn into one group or another. Everyone wanted to speak to her. Was she enjoying the Amalfi Coast? Alexei had gone unusually AWOL, and now everyone knew why. And who could blame him? This was a theme with few variations. It embarrassed her and she didn’t know what to say. She was offered champagne and took it. As she was propelled from one knot of people to another there was always another glass.

Then at last she was sitting down by herself, protected from the hot sun by an awning. She felt fuzzy from the champagne she had consumed for Dutch courage. Was it three glasses? Four? She’d lost count. Her glass had never seemed to be empty and she’d just kept sipping. Her shoes pinched and her face hurt from smiling.

‘You must be Maisy.’ A tall, slender woman in an almost transparent white shift was standing over her. Her black hair fell in a faultless waterfall to her shoulders. She was vaguely familiar. ‘We haven’t been introduced. Tara Mills.’

Maisy accepted the hand that was offered.

‘We have Alexei in common,’ she said, sitting down, crossing impossibly long and elegant tanned bare legs. Maisy drew her pale ones in under her. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

Perhaps another woman would have thrown the contents of her drink in Tara’s perfect face, but Maisy was feeling distinctly generous. So this was the former mistress.

‘I need another drink,’ she replied instead, looking around.

Tara merely lifted a hand and a waiter arrived with a tray of them. In any other circumstances it would have been funny. Tara and Alexei were perfectly matched. A snap of her fingers and the world came to a halt and then turned on its axis for Tara Mills.

Tara held out her glass and clinked Maisy’s. ‘To our mutual friend.’

‘He may be your friend but he’s not mine,’ she said without thinking.

‘Trouble in paradise?’ Tara placed a slender hand on Maisy’s bare knee, drawing Maisy’s attention to its round curve in comparison to Tara’s bony leg.

‘No.’ Maisy felt driven to deny it and took a deep swallow. The alcohol buzzed through her system and she knew without a doubt the day was going to end badly.

‘You’re to do with the Kulikov baby, aren’t you?’ Tara set down her untouched glass. ‘He was obsessed with rescuing the little thing.’

‘Rescuing?’ Maisy echoed, letting down her guard.

‘Oh, you know what they’re like, the hyped-up brotherhood. As soon as news of Leo’s accident came in they were all lining up to adopt the boy. Alexei won. Alexei always wins, doesn’t he?’