Simply Divine (37 page)

of Mark's brochures away from her with the tip of a Wellington. 'Piers always used to talk about opening a shop that sold nothing but bacon sandwiches,' she said. 'But that would hardly make enough to keep this place going. Even if Piers wasn't vegan now, which I expect he is.' She sighed. Her face looked suddenly older, and infinitely tired. Give it up, Jane urged her friend silently. Just abandon the struggle. It's a losing battle, and even Mullions isn't worth sacrificing your youth and life to. But Tally would never give in, Jane knew. 'I can't be the one to let it all go,' Jane recalled Tally saying once. 'I can't be remembered for all time as the one who lost the house.' Yet she had come close.

Jane gazed into her glass wondering why she was worrying about Tally so much. Her own prospects were, after all, hardly glittering. Personally, they were a disaster, and professionally they were little better. The disappearance of Champagne a hundred feet under the runway at Gatwick, which she would normally have greeted with joy and relief, also meant
Fabulous
would have no cover. Jane groaned at the thought of Victoria's wrath now the film story could no longer be run.

Tally sat up suddenly. 'Did you hear something?' she hissed at Jane. 'Something banging somewhere?'

Jane's ears strained in the singing silence. Tally was right. A faint noise could be heard from the Marble Hall. They gazed at each other in terror.

'It might be,' gasped Jane, her throat dry with fear, 'the wind.'

Tally shook her head. 'You can always hear that.'

It was true. The building had so many holes you could use it to drain pasta.

'Something's coming in,' gasped Tally, drawing her

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gangly legs into her chair and hugging them tightly. 'Look. The door.'

As they watched, terrified, the Blue Drawing Room door started to open slowly, revealing the hall beyond. A full moon was just visible through the top pane of one of the hall windows, a brilliant silvery pearl, positioned, as if by some celestial jeweller, on a bed of dark blue velvet. Tally gasped sharply. 'Not Saul come back?' she breathed, putting into words what Jane, too, most feared. 'Please don't let it be him,' panted Tally.

It wasn't. A figure in a white flowing robe slowly appeared through the door. Tall, dignified and slow-moving, it glided into the room as if in a trance. Even from across the distance and the gloom, the brilliance of its burning eyes could clearly be seen.

'Mummy!' exclaimed Tally, thrusting her legs back out and sprawling in relief across the chair. 'You
terrified
me!'

'Darling,'
breathed Julia, moving swiftly over to her daughter, and gazing intensely into her eyes. 'I have only one question to ask you,' she said dramatically, grasping Tally's thin shoulders.
'Have you?

'Have I what?' asked Tally, alarmed at her mother's earnest expression. Seen the light? Strayed from the path of righteous wisdom? Got a bun in the oven? Turned lesbian? What would have been an open-ended question for most people was practically limitless with Julia.

'Sold Mullions, of course,' gasped Julia.

'No,' said Tally apologetically. 'I'm afraid I haven't.' She braced herself for her mother's wrath.

'Thank Goddess!' proclaimed Julia dramatically, sinking to her knees in a billow of cheesecloth. 'I'm
so
relieved,' she said, in low, dramatic tones. 'There are great oppor-

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tunities ahead for us all. Big Horn has had the most
wonderful
idea for Mullions.'

'Oh really?' said Tally guardedly. She had had quite enough brilliant ideas for Mullions for one day. Did this one, she wondered, involve integral double-aspect utility rooms?

'Yes. Yes,' breathed Julia, ecstatic. 'He's so
creative,
that man, I can't
tell
you.' She clasped her hands and gave a semi-orgasmic shudder at the mere thought of it. Around the base of Jane's stomach, something twinged with envy.

'Come here, my darling,' Julia called over her shoulder. 'Tally's
dying
to see your wonderful plans.'

Something tall detached itself from the shadow of one of the windowledges. A pair of strong, tanned thighs glowed in the firelight as Big Horn, still sporting his chamois leather miniskirt, came slowly towards the group of women. In his braceleted, tattooed arms he carried a large black folder which he deposited ceremonially on the rug in front of Tally. She looked at it suspiciously. It was not, after all, the first one she had seen that day.

'Big Horn and I,' declared Julia, 'and, of course, the Mother Goddess,' she added, quickly glancing upward, 'have come up with a plan for Mullions which would cost us practically nothing and,' she added, dropping her ringing tones to a discreet, excited whisper,
'make us a fortune!

Big Horn, his face impassive, gave a slow, dignified nod of agreement.

'We want,' continued Julia, her face ablaze with excitement, 'to make Mullions into an ashram. A retreat.'

Jane and Tally looked at each other in mixed disappointment and incomprehension. 'A retreat?' asked Tally

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doubtfully. 'What exactly
is
a retreat? Isn't it something t< do with monks?'

'Not necessarily.' Julia serenely ignored the bad vibes 'It's somewhere to cleanse yourself spiritually and internally
Not,'
she added sternly, 'to pamper yourself physically.
A
retreat is very basic, preferably with no heating, TVs, telephones or radios.'

'It doesn't sound much fun,' ventured Jane.

'It's not meant to
be fan,'
said Julia, almost pityingly. 'It's meant to be a place where you unlock your human potential. You spend hours meditating/fasting, chanting. Some people simply lock themselves away in isolation for days on end, visualising, learning to listen to their inner selves.'

So that was what Nick had been doing in the bathroom all that time, thought Jane. If only she'd realised.

'You take classes in yoga, go for long walks, tune into world harmony and learn humility by doing menial household tasks like cleaning the lavatories, fixing shelves and doing the washing-up. And, of course,' Julia cast her eyes modestly to the floor, paying really rather a lot of money for the privilege.' She beamed triumphantly and clapped her hands. 'Mullions,' she pronounced, 'could not be more suitable.'

Silence ensued.

'But surely,' said Tally, struggling to find a polite way to say what she thought. 'Surely,' she gabbled, failing, you don't really expect people to pay a fortune to eat practically nothing, lock themselves away for weeks in sheds, spend hours contorting themselves and clean the loos into the bargain? Only nutters would pay to do that.'

'Yes. Nutters like me and Big Horn, obviously,' said Julia, offended. 'We've just come back from doing it ourselves.'

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There was an embarrassed silence. Then Jane, who had been thinking furiously for the past few seconds, barged in. 'It's a brilliant idea, Tally. Don't you see? You
can
make a fortune out of ashrams. They're terribly nineties. I've read about them. They're springing up everywhere, even in this country. In California, all the film stars go to them and pay the earth to stay there.'

Julia clapped her hands and Jane blushed as Big Horn gave her a stiff nod of approval and curved his magnificent lips upwards in what might even have been a smile.

'That's right,' Julia gushed. 'Just look at the figures.' She opened the folder. 'It'll cost next to nothing to set up. Why, Big Horn and I are practically an entire ashram in ourselves. I can take Breathing for the Millennium, Work-shopping Your Pain, Locating Your Inner Child and World-Harmony Yoga classes and Big Horn can do Group Hugging and Lacto-vegetarian Meditation. We don't need telephones or TVs, and the food is really basic. Even Mrs Ormondroyd can manage to chop up a few carrots and boil a few lentils for dinner.'

There was another silence. 'Urn, Mrs Ormondroyd's not around at the moment,' Tally hesitatingly confessed.

'But I'm sure we can find her,' added Jane quickly.

Julia smiled absently. 'And people don't even need to stay in the house,' she said. 'In California, lots of them sleep outside in the woods for that extra back-to-nature experience. We can get Mr Peters to knock up a few teepees.'

Tally nodded. Wherever Mr Peters had got to, she had better find him fast. Something told her that he had not been snapped up by another estate just yet.

'Some people pay up to fifteen hundred pounds a week to stay on ashrams,' said Julia, running her finger down a

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column of figures, and displaying a grasp of financial matters that would have impressed even Saul Dewsbury. 'We could undercut that by hundreds and clean up in this part of the country.'

'Gosh,' said Jane. 'It certainly puts the money in harmony, doesn't it?'

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Chapter 23

Returning to London from Mullions, Jane found the capital an oasis of calm after the tumultuous events in the countryside. While life, admittedly, continued manless, it also continued Champagneless, and as the fashion season came round again it had the added bonus of being Victoria-less as well. After a week in Milan, Victoria was now in Paris. Left in charge
of Fabulous,
Jane for the first time was enjoying the freedom of selecting features and planning entire issues herself.

She had not, as yet, dared to move from her deputy's desk into the glass-windowed sanctum that was Victoria's office. This was less fear of hubris than the fact that Tish would be completely incapable of putting her calls through to another desk. But in any case, Jane did not want to tempt fate. Archie Fitzherbert had left her to her own devices so far. Her criticisms over breakfast about Victoria and
Fabulous
had, unbelievably, apparently been forgotten. Fitzherbert had, Jane decided, probably just dismissed her as mad. Which was probably fine by him. Mental instability, after all, seemed practically a requirement of the job for senior magazine staff.

It was wonderful to be left alone to get on with things. There was only one cloud on Jane's horizon: the question

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of who would replace Champagne on the magazines covei The printers deadline was approaching and she would have to make a decision soon.

At least, Jane thought, she didn't have to worry about Tally any more. Any scars left by Saul had apparently healed quickly. Tally, indeed, seemed to have emerged practically unscathed. The extent of Saul's deceit and his true intentions towards her beloved home had evidendy extinguished any feelings for him other than disgust. Not that there was time to dwell on anything anyway. Having finally accepted Big Horn's plan to convert Mullions into what amounted to a cosmic Center Pare, Tally, together with Julia, was now frantically preparing for an influx of stressed-out celebrities.

'It's amazing how many people have signed up,' Tally gasped excitedly down the telephone. 'Especially when you see the brochures Mummy's sending out.' She paused. 'Because they're not brochures at all, really. Just pebbles with the telephone number engraved on them. But they seem to be bringing in the business. Mummy says its because the pebbles are lodestones and draw the person they are sent to towards Mullions. And you should see Mr Peters. Slapping up teepees quicker than you can say General Custer.'

'So you found Mr Peters, then?'

'Yes, he was wreaking havoc at the Lower Bulge bowling club,' Tally giggled. 'They'd had to cancel games for the first time since 1910 because Mr Peters had practically destroyed the green, and he'd cut the electrics off twice by running the Jawnmower through the cables. They seemed rather glad to see the back of him.'

'What about Mrs Ormondroyd?' asked Jane. 'Did you track her down as well?'

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'Yes,' Tally said. 'She was working in the local dentists surgery. Apparently business was down by almost fifty per cent. People were frightened enough of going to the dentist, but the thought of having to see Mrs Ormondroyd as well just finished them off. She's having a wonderful time now, though. Giving huge simmering pots of chickpeas the occasional stir whilst gazing uninterruptedly at Big Horn.'

'How is Big Horn?' asked Jane, smiling.

'A revelation,' said Tally sincerely. 'He's running the place like clockwork. He's got more business acumen than the entire City put together.'