Grace shrugged. ‘I’ve done it once before, remember?’
‘Still holding a torch for El Presidente?’
She shook her head. ‘No, I saw a lot of Gabe making the movie in Palumbo. He’s moved on, he’s happy. He’s got a wife who’s good for him.’
‘I thought that about Melissa, and look where that got me.’ He took a sip of his tonic water. ‘I see Miles sent elaborate gifts.’
She grunted. ‘Like two eighteen-year-olds need sports cars and club membership.’
‘Miles always was good at buying his way into people’s affections. It’s when you’ve got to pay him back that it becomes a problem.’
Out in the courtyard, Olivia was enjoying a Gauloise cigarette. She liked the French brands; they made her look cool. Not that she needed any help in that department. Over Christmas she’d been shopping in Topshop and was spotted by scouts from both Storm and Models One. Olivia knew what she wanted to do when school was finally over. Her brother might have a place at Cambridge, but what guarantee was that of getting on in the world? Good looks and contacts, that was what mattered, and she was determined to work her advantages to the max.
She looked up as she heard the door open: Julian, wearing a dinner suit with a white T-shirt underneath and box-fresh plimsolls. She didn’t bother to hide the cigarette; she was eighteen now and he wasn’t her father, was he?
‘Enjoying your birthday, Liv?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, it’s been cool,’ she said nonchalantly. ‘The car is fantastic but I don’t think Mum approves. Then again, she doesn’t approve of anything these days, does she?’
Olivia was pleased that Julian didn’t stick up for Grace. Although she had disliked him as a child, as the years
had passed she had come to view him as an ally. Years ago, after her mum had found her pills, she had heard her and Julian arguing about it. ‘Treat her like a grown-up, Grace!’ he’d said. ‘If she wants to have sex, she’ll have it whether she’s on the pill or not.’ Well, he was right there.
‘Have you seen your mother anywhere?’
‘Talking to Alex Doyle last time I saw her. As always,’ she said mischievously.
Julian smiled. Olivia had noticed he had a dirty, sexy smile, as if he was always thinking about something naughty.
‘I mean, don’t you get embarrassed how they’re always off whispering in corners? People wondering, you know, if there’s something going on?’
Julian laughed softly. ‘I don’t think your mother is the type to have an affair,’ he said.
Olivia blew a smoke ring. ‘A lot of people think that about their spouses. Until they get presented with an opportunity.’ She was pleased to see a cloud of concern pass over his face.
‘Can I have a pull on that thing?’ he asked. He took the cigarette from her fingers and drew it to his mouth.
Through the smoke she looked at his face, lined and worn from experience, fun, life, excitement, success. Julian was not a particularly good-looking man but there was something about it that made him incredibly attractive. Certainly her friends from London were terribly excited to meet him. Art was the new rock and roll these days, or so she’d read in some glossy magazine. She had no idea what he saw in such a square and earnest woman as her mother.
‘I got a car from Uncle Miles, the trust fund from the family, the watch from Mum,’ said Olivia. ‘What am I getting from you?’
‘What do you want?’
‘A picture.’
He smiled. ‘That shouldn’t be too difficult to sort out.’
‘No, I want a picture of me. Come on, draw me.’
‘What, now?’
‘Of course. Every girl wants to be an artist’s muse.’
She could see desire spark into his eyes and she knew he wanted her – but then she’d known that for a while now. Last summer, when she’d been sunbathing alone by the stream running through the grounds, he’d come down and asked her if she fancied a swim, his eyes lingering over her tiny Eres bikini.
It felt good being desired by a man like Julian. Anyone could get a red-blooded, constantly horny eighteen-year-old interested in them. Boys were easy prey. Real men, now they were more of a challenge.
She walked up close to him.