‘Put one pound on, you get twenty back,’ William replied.
‘God, I’m stupid sometimes,’ said the beautiful blonde, without looking up.
William bought two more horses from Cedric Hangerford, and went home to find Margaret out, playing bridge with friends. ‘She may stay with Mrs Castleton tonight,’ said the maid, grimly.
William nodded as she shut the door behind her, then flicked at the blotting pad on his desk. Bored, he looked around the room at the décor, so carefully chosen by Margaret and that terrible old queen who claimed to be an interior designer. It was an elegant study, lined with hundreds of leatherbound books. White linen was draped as curtains and a large antique mahogany desk was placed beneath the window. Margaret loathed reproduction furniture: she said it was made for the middle classes. William had a sudden urge to swipe everything off the desk and hurl the Georgian ink-well at the curtains. He put his head in his hands: he was rich, successful, and bloody lonely. He dialled Madame Norton, who ran an up-market call-girl agency. He told her what he wanted, then informed the staff that they could retire for the night. Half an hour later the doorbell rang and William answered it personally.
Nina strutted in and followed William up the marble staircase towards the bedroom. She let her coat fall to the floor, stepped over it and threw a cheap black bag on to the damask-covered king-size bed. William poured two glasses of champagne and glanced at the girl, who was looking around the room. ‘It’s on the bedside table,’ he said casually, and watched her pick up the roll of money then stuff it into her bag. She smiled sweetly as he passed her the champagne. His notion had been to try to reenact the moments he had enjoyed with Harriet, but this girl was too cheap. He realized he had made a foolish mistake in asking her to come to his home.
‘Cheers!’ She took a sip and kicked off her shoes.
William was about to tell her that she could keep the money and leave when the bedroom door opened. He caught Margaret’s reflection in the mirror and turned, holding out his glass of champagne. ‘Why, Margaret,’ he grinned, and went on with characteristic bravura, ‘would you like to join us?’
Margaret was frozen to the spot, mouth hanging open in stunned amazement. Then she started to scream.
The divorce cost William the house and a substantial pay-off, negotiated by her weasel of a lawyer, who could hardly stop rubbing his hands in anticipation of his cut. However, William’s own lawyers were clever enough to insinuate that if she did not accept his offer, they would issue a counter-action accusing her of frigidity and denying her husband his conjugal rights. He celebrated the decree nisi with Cedric Hangerford over dinner at Rules. Cedric brought along his cousin, Katherine, the leggy blonde William had met in his Ascot box. ‘Twenty to one, you’ll say yes to the coffee at my place,’ she quipped, as they left the restaurant.
William married her within the year. It was a small register-office affair, with a private dinner afterwards. But that evening the couple threw a ball at the Ritz, ensuring the marriage made not only the social columns but the glossy magazines too. Two days later they were honeymooning on safari.
It was far from the disaster of his first marriage. During their ten days in Zimbabwe they enjoyed each other’s company. Katherine’s genuine interest in wildlife and her inability to handle a camera were endearing. However, the sex was unsatisfactory. Katherine was not exactly frigid, just unloving. She evidently felt that the sooner it was over the better. William’s inexperience of dealing with someone like Katherine made it impossible for him to discuss his frustration with her.
When they returned home and moved into their new house, William discovered that Katherine was no housewife either. She was useless at organizing, hopeless with money, loathed shopping, never read anything other than Tatler and was generally bone idle. After a few months she was pregnant, and demanded that they sleep in separate bedrooms and expected to be waited on hand and foot. William soon realized that he had traded in one nightmare for another. When Katherine gave birth to a boy, they moved to a larger house. Although they employed two nannies she complained incessantly that she was tired and depressed, and spent all day in her bedroom watching television. He noticed that she was always lively enough to attend the dinners, balls and society parties she was invited to, but when he asked her to accompany him to a business function she always had a migraine. According to her, his business associates were ‘middle-class and boring’, which made William acutely ashamed and aware once more of his background.
Two years into their marriage, to Katherine’s horror and William’s surprise, she was pregnant again. After the birth of their daughter, Sabrina, Katherine locked herself in her bedroom, complaining of post-natal depression, but was overjoyed to have a daughter. However, he had had enough of the marriage. Despite that he did not file for divorce for another two years, and then only because he had found out his wife was handing over thousands of pounds to her cousin Cedric, whose stud farm was in financial difficulties. It wasn’t that William didn’t have the money to ‘donate’, it was just that every relative of Katherine’s seemed to treat him like a soft touch.
The divorce was drawn-out and costly. For all Katherine’s perpetual inertia, when William decided to leave she found the energy of a maelstrom. She wept, screamed and threatened to take the children abroad so that he would never see them again. He fought for custody, but Katherine threatened to tell the court of his trips to Madame Norton’s, determined to prove that he was not a fit father.
Since his last divorce William had been almost content. He had concluded that marriage was not for him and had vowed that he would never contemplate it again. He didn’t acknowledge that he was lonely, but buried himself in his work. Then he had met Andrew Maynard and his life changed. He found he had not only a face and a purse, he had a voice too. In return for his sponsorship, Maynard had helped him realize that he should be proud of his achievements.
After Maynard’s death William felt as though the light had gone out of his life. Now he sat alone in his study and thought. He poured himself a large Armagnac, lit a cigar, and decided to set fire to Maynard’s diaries. Then, on impulse, he decided to read them. He needed answers. Deep down he could not believe he had so misjudged the man for whom he had cared so deeply. As he unlocked the safe and took out the first diary he felt strangely calm.
In the months before Maynard’s death the diary contained frequent references to ‘JC’. William assumed this was Chalmers.
Lunched here in Grimaud. They used to live here with their parents. They are the most astonishingly beautiful couple. She is as blonde as he and just as charming. I never believed in love at first sight until this moment. It was as if every movement was held under a bright magnifying-glass. I could not take my eyes off them, it was all I could do to stop myself kneeling at their feet. It is so rare to find such perfection. I am an adoring slave, nothing in my life meant anything, all I wanted was to
The rest had been blacked out, making it impossible to read.
William began to feel cheated as he turned the pages: there were more blacked-out passages. Then he read,
...took me to a place that I could not believe. I am ecstatic, I am flying, I am a slave. I have never known such total peace and tranquillity. I want nothing but to be embraced and tortured in such sweet pain. I am a dog to be chained and beaten into total submission.