Persuading Annie (6 page)

Annie, unlike both her sisters, had insisted on paying her own way and thanks to her mother’s inheritance and her job at the nearby art gallery, had managed to secure a mortgage on a lovely two-bedroom flat with a balcony
in nearby Muswell Hill – or Muswell Hell, as George called it.

As for the rest of the Markham family though, life was rich. George’s beloved late Great Dane, Rufus the Great, had had a Gucci sleeping basket, collar and lead. And they all still holidayed in the best resorts, with or without Annie. Katherine and Victoria had punishing daily workouts and yoga with the very best instructors, weekly massages, reflexology sessions, manicures, acupuncture and one-to-one Pilates classes; monthly leg waxes, eyelash curls, colonic irrigation, sunbed and trichology sessions and bi-monthly seaweed wraps. If they had a headache, they popped to their cranial osteopath, a pimple, the country’s best beautician, a fat day, lymphatic drainage. And then there was the morning make-up and hair session with the country’s top professionals. Priceless beauty didn’t come cheap.

Susannah had started to try and gently persuade George of the dangers of his excessive spending. But it was impossible to order a man whose ancestors had hacked off their servants’ hands for doing less. He had proved deaf to her pleadings.

Until now. Finally, even he could no longer put off seeing the brick wall of bankruptcy in front of him.

As Susannah saw it, they had three options. They could pray for a miracle and try to sell the company to a wealthy fool with even less business sense than George; they could face reality and shut it down now before the debts outweighed the assets; or they could open their doors to some management consultants, in the hope that they could turn it around and return it to its glory days. She knew that the third option was probably a non-starter, but she just couldn’t bear to give up yet. The irony was that she needed a team of management consultants in to help her
work out which option to take. And to prevent this being a total waste of money, it had to be one of the best. And for that they needed serious money.

Susannah also knew that for management consultants to be able to earn their millions, she had to get George temporarily out of the picture. Much as she loved and respected the man, she knew that he could single-handedly wreck everything. He was his own company’s biggest millstone.

On top of that, she knew that George was proud. He would only consent to any of this if it were done in such a way that the public would never realise what was really going on. He couldn’t possibly let anyone think that
he
needed help.

This was an incredibly complex, sensitive subject.

As their conversation glided to the subject of the company, not a moment too soon – or too late – Susannah slowly lifted her briefcase on to the polished table and opened it.

‘Shall we start, George?’ she asked quietly.

‘As long as it doesn’t take too long,’ he said, his eyes suddenly fixed on his Gucci shoes. ‘Bought an E-type yesterday. Wanted to give it a turn before lunch.’

4

THE FAMILY MEETING
was underway. Katherine and Annie had both joined their father at his office and after Victoria’s emergency phone call, Charles had popped in after rushing home from his beloved golf course and flinging on a suit.

They all sat silently round the polished oval table, waiting for Mr Cavendish, the solicitor, to arrive.

George looked across at his two daughters. Katherine, her blonde hair coiffed to within an inch of its life, her blue eyes lidded with just the right amount of smudged amber to lend them a superior air, gave him a slow, feline smile that told him Daddy was all.

With an effort, he looked away from Katherine to Annie.

Annie looked out of the window, showing George her elegant profile.

George sighed deeply.

He would never get over Annie’s obstinate red hair. Never. As if she couldn’t just go to the hairdressers.

It seemed that George had only recently got over the initial shock of seeing his youngest daughter for the first time. It was bad enough she hadn’t been a boy, which
meant that his chances of a son were now as good as lost. Four years earlier, he had been devastated when Katherine had first been brought to him, furious, pink and undeniably female. Yet it had proved impossible, even for George, not to fall in love with such a beautiful, bouncy, gurgling child – and anyway, there was still hope that his other children would all be sons. When Victoria followed Katherine two years afterward, he had become used to disappointment and had simply not expected any better from his wife.

But, by the time Annie arrived, two years later, he knew that now all chances of a son were gone. Annie personified his loss of hope.

Perhaps that explained why he had reacted so violently to the colour of her hair.

‘Good God, woman, what’s
happened
?’ he demanded of Caroline.

‘What do you mean, what’s happened?’ she asked, exhausted, hugging her infant to her chest.

‘It’s got orange hair!’ he exploded.

‘
She
has
auburn
hair,’ said Caroline firmly, gently touching one of the golden curls with the tip of her finger.

‘Listen here, old gal, have you been having an affair with someone uglier than death?’ continued George, not knowing which he would prefer most – to be a cuckold, or the begetter of Beelzebub’s daughter.

Caroline fought back the angry tears.

‘She is our daughter and she’s beautiful,’ she said in a tone he had never heard before.

‘IT’S UGLIER THAN HIMMLER, WOMAN—’ he shouted, disgusted.

‘
SHE!
’ cried Caroline.

‘All right, SHE’s uglier than Himmler!’

And he had slammed the door shut after him, shaken to the core that he could have produced such a hybrid.

Twenty-six years later, Annie’s hair still troubled him. It had softened into a Titian blur now, the thick curls pulled off her pale face. Of course, thought George peevishly, Annie would never lower herself to have her locks cut into a slick, modern style. If only she would have her hair highlighted, he thought morosely. Wear make-up, high heels, make an effort.

Annie felt her father’s harsh eye on her and stayed looking out of the window across the streets of London.

She eventually looked over at Susannah, who gave her a tender, supportive smile. Annie’s heart warmed slightly. Without Susannah’s presence, her family’s silent condemnation would have weighed even more heavily on her slight shoulders.

Eventually there was a knock on the door and they all looked towards it expecting Mr Cavendish the solicitor to sidle in. When instead, Davina Barker, the new marketing director, entered the office, her neat little face showing just the right amount of concern and respect, all four of them experienced a severe change in their emotions.

‘Ah, Davina, my dear!’ greeted George warmly, gratified by the sight of Davina’s extremely long legs in an extremely mini skirt.

She walked purposefully towards him and let him kiss her on both cheeks, tilting her head back just the right amount for him to smell the dabs of Chanel No 5 behind her ears and see an enticing glimpse of cleavage. She pulled out the chair next to Katherine.

Katherine flashed a grin at her friend. Now the fun would begin! Davina was the only person Katherine liked who
wasn’t moneyed, whose family had no history and who thought Belgravia was a country. In fact she was the only paid employee of her father’s she had ever deigned to talk to properly. And there was a simple reason for that. Davina was a hoot.

Davina slid her chair out and sat down, smiling pleasantly at everyone round the table, her long, straight blonde hair swaying gently as she did so. She turned to grin at Katherine as she took her little jacket off, revealing a shimmering attempt at a blouse that left nothing to the imagination. Which made sense, surmised Annie, considering that her father didn’t have one. Davina wasn’t the type to leave anything to chance.

Davina looked over at Katherine and gasped loudly. ‘I
adore
your earrings,’ she whispered loudly, touching Katherine’s tiny diamonds glistening in her downy earlobes. ‘They’re
divine
. How do they make them so small? If I had a pair of those, I’d swallow them or something.’

Katherine laughed with delight, feeling classier and daintier than a moment ago.

Davina took out her pad and pen and smiled over at Annie and Susannah. They smiled back.

Annie didn’t need to wonder how on earth Davina had been invited to such a highly private family meeting. Susannah could only mourn silently that her Annie should be treated so obviously differently to Davina by those who should know better.

After Shirley had poured everyone more coffee, Mr Cavendish appeared.

‘Ah, Cavendish,’ said George. ‘Come on in, come on in.’

Mr Cavendish wiped his brow and took his jacket off.

‘Right,’ he said, and opened his bulging brief case.

* * * * *

‘Are you gone stark, raving mad, man?’ shouted Katherine. ‘Do you want me to get ill, ugly and fat, is that it?’

Mr Cavendish went pale. ‘I am merely saying,’ he attempted, ‘that if you can manage, for just one year to do without these … luxuries—’

Katherine screamed and looked at her father. ‘Did you hear him, Daddy?
One year? Luxuries?
’ She turned to Mr Cavendish and her tone changed sharply. ‘Do you have any idea what happens to your colon if it isn’t washed out regularly, Mr Cavendish?’

Fortunately for Mr Cavendish, he did not have to find out.

‘Calm down, pumpkin,’ said George before turning sadly to his solicitor. ‘It simply won’t do, Cavendish.’

Mr Cavendish sighed and looked at his paperwork. He didn’t know how to broach the subject. Luckily, he didn’t need to.

‘George,’ cooed Susannah. ‘There might be another way.’

‘Hmm?’

‘You could – temporarily –’ (she twinkled her eyes and hushed her voice) ‘visit New York.’

She let this sink in before continuing.

Katherine’s eyes lit up.

George liked the idea, but wasn’t sure how this was going to help.

‘You see,’ continued Susannah slowly. ‘You have two choices. You could either sell your New York apartment and pour that money into the company—’

Her audience gasped. Sell the New York apartment? It was too painful to contemplate. What
was
life without its little joys?

‘But that would be very obvious to the press that you are
in need of money, which would be no good for the company at all. Or, we could tell the press that you have grown bored of London lately and have decided to spend time in New York. The business is expanding and New York needs your attention. You could go and live in your apartment there for six months, maybe a year. Then, as a last-minute thought, you quietly sell the wonderful Hampstead Village apartment—’

Charles started. Wasn’t that where he lived? Victoria would kill him.

‘And Victoria could move back into the family home with Charles and the boys—’

He relaxed. Victoria would be beside herself with happiness at this compromise.

‘And we’ll have put the newshounds off the scent!’

She looked round the room. Everyone’s breath was held, their eyes bright.

‘Just think of the money you could make on that Hampstead Village apartment, George. Katie and Annie could go with you to New York if you wanted – to make it look more like a family decision.’ Susannah felt that Annie needed a break from London. Maybe New York was just the place to bring back the colour in her cheeks. ‘Meanwhile,’ she continued, ‘Victoria and Charles and the boys would have all the space they need in Katie’s quarters. With the proceeds from their flat, we’ll be able to get the very best management consultants in—’ she suddenly spoke faster, ignoring the sharp intake of breath that came from all around the table, ‘—who I’m sure will turn the company around so we can float it for millions and then you can come back to live here for good.’

George looked like he was thinking very hard. He was in fact, concentrating desperately on the image of his late grandmother on her deathbed. It helped him recover himself
after a sudden and all-too effective image of enjoying Davina in New York.

Susannah continued. ‘I will stay in London while the consultants are here and when everything’s sorted out, I’ll come and join you in New York for the New Year. Until then I’ll talk regularly with the New York office, and keep you informed every step of the way. Enjoy the sights while you’re there! Visit your club, go to the opera, and most importantly, relax. We can’t have our managing director, our chairman, having a nervous breakdown, not when we need him most. You must use this opportunity to recuperate at this time of stress. Be a guiding light for the rest of us. And of course, you can talk to us here in the office as often as usual and advise us how to run the company in your absence.’

She held her breath. This moment was crucial to the survival of Markhams’.

‘Yes, I – I have felt a bit peeky, recently,’ nodded George, thinking very, very hard of his late grandmother.

Susannah breathed out. Her relief at the ease with which this had been achieved overshadowed her surprise.

Everyone except Annie clapped their hands in excitement and started talking animatedly about the delights of the Big Apple.

Annie looked round the room, her stomach tensing with anxious frustration. She couldn’t possibly let Susannah dictate where she lived. She didn’t want to go to New York. She watched George and Katherine tell a wide-eyed Davina about how many society people you could see in one evening at the opera.

I’m adopted, thought Annie. There’s no other explanation.

‘Um,’ she cleared her throat. ‘May I make a suggestion?’

Susannah smiled confidently at Annie. ‘Of course, my dear.’

‘I would rather – if it fits in with everyone else, of course – stay here in London with Vicky and Charles and the boys, than go to New York.’ As Susannah’s smile subsided, Annie rushed on. ‘I could help with the boys, I could even move in there, I could rent out my place – that money might come in handy—’