Chapter 7 20 October 2016 #2
Madison shot to her feet. ‘This calls for a celebration. Inez!’
In a moment, the DuPonts’ housekeeper appeared in the doorway.
She was in her early thirties, her hair swept up in a no-nonsense bun.
She’d been with the family for a decade now and was fluent in her native Portuguese and English – as well as in Madison’s tastes and the vagaries of her friends.
Inez could tell you who was newly vegan, who was pretending to be gluten-free this week, and who needed to eat more than a handful of almonds for dinner if they were going to make it through tomorrow’s physics exam.
‘Miss Madison?’
‘We’re celebrating. Can you bring up two bottles of the Krug Grande Cuvée from the cellar?’
The DuPonts’ wine cellar was a temperature-controlled annex beneath their co-op, housing a carefully curated collection from their travels, as well as a variety of high-end standbys.
Inez’s mouth dipped into a frown. ‘It is a Thursday. You have school tomorrow.’
‘Inez.’
‘Your parents would not approve.’
Madison rolled her eyes. ‘What my father doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and you know better than anyone that if my mother were here, she’d be pouring.
But either way, as you so kindly pointed out, it’s Thursday.
Daddy will be at the office for several hours yet, and Mummy is at another interminable charity luncheon. Or is it tennis this afternoon?’
‘It is the Philharmonic luncheon.’ Inez’s voice was flat.
‘Fantastic. Now, are you going to get the bubbly, or do I have to do it myself?’
Silently, Inez turned and exited Madison’s wing.
Hannah sucked her lips between her teeth. That was awkward.
‘Now, let’s discuss the weekend.’ Madison brushed aside a crinkled stack of New Yorkers to join Elle on the sofa.
‘I’m thinking Southampton,’ Ethan spoke up. ‘My family’s place is four-seasons. I can host.’
Madison’s mouth opened and closed, the wind sucked from her sails.
‘That’s… precisely what I was thinking,’ she said after a moment. ‘A little weekend getaway to get Elle’s mind off things.’
‘Ugh, I can’t.’ Elle shoved herself to a sitting position. ‘Aunt Amelia has a gallery opening tomorrow night. Attendance is mandatory.’
Madison shrugged. ‘So we’ll go out Saturday morning. No big.’
Elle gave a thin smile. ‘I’ll check my calendar.’
Saturday marked the first day of a six-week business course in which Elle had enrolled at Stern, but her extracurriculars were need-to-know.
Just then, Inez reappeared in Madison’s doorway with the two bottles of champagne in a chilled silver bucket and a tray of mismatched coupes.
‘Oh, perfection.’ In a flash, Madison was up from the sofa and showering the housekeeper in a flurry of kisses while Inez giggled and expertly placed the refreshments on the side table.
This was the Madison of Hannah’s first few days at Prescott, warm and generous with her affection.
For a moment, Hannah saw herself reflected in the housekeeper’s eyes.
‘You must join us.’ Madison plucked a tall glass from beside the untouched pitcher of herbal iced tea Inez had served with the snacks.
‘I couldn’t.’ Inez stopped giggling and straightened up, her face resuming its former lines of concern.
‘Oh, please,’ Madison begged. She selected the first bottle of champagne and uncorked it. ‘Elle needs a bit of fun, and frankly, so do you.’ She filled the glass with a generous pour and handed it to a reluctant Inez. Then she proceeded to fill the coupes.
‘To Elle,’ Bruno said, and everyone clinked glasses.
As Hannah sipped her bubbly – the best she’d ever tasted in her admittedly limited experience with French champagne – her eyes met Madison’s, then Inez’s.
The housekeeper was no fool. Madison had manipulated her into serving them alcohol with no parents present, then made her complicit, and Inez had played her part.
As had Hannah just moments ago, jumping to extract the information about Gemma’s new school from Oliver.
She sat silently for a moment, sipping champagne – just half a glass; she was due home in an hour – and wondering if she was still a pawn if she knew precisely what she was doing.
Madison and Elle were self-absorbed and sometimes cruel and calculating, but they were undeniably fascinating.
Now that she’d dipped her toes in the waters of their world, she wanted to slip all the way under, despite the voice at the back of her head saying it wasn’t too late to get out of the pool.
The door clicked, startling Hannah from her thoughts. Inez had slipped out, and Madison was topping off their glasses.
‘He didn’t look at me once in seminar this week,’ Elle sniffed into her champagne. The alcohol had turned her mood, and not for the better. ‘Or in calc. He’s been slinking around like a dog with his tail between his legs, too ashamed to make eye contact. It’s pathetic.’
‘Classic guilty behaviour,’ Bruno said, taking a seat on the sofa. ‘He broke up with you because he couldn’t stomach the shame anymore. Now Gemma’s gone, and Theo’s in the doghouse where he belongs. It’s going to be the Autumn of Elle.’
Madison’s spine stiffened, an almost imperceptible movement beside Hannah, but she caught it. As did Ethan.
‘To Madison and Elle.’ He raised his glass. ‘The fiercest women at Prescott. Long may they reign.’
There was a pause, then Hannah raised her glass as well, then Ethan, then Madison and Elle.
‘To The Upper Edge,’ Elle added. ‘Without it, I’d still be unwittingly sharing a man with the slut of Park Ave.’ She shuddered.
‘Who runs The Upper Edge, anyway?’ Hannah asked, setting her champagne on the floor beside her. ‘Ami’s convinced it’s a Prescott senior.’
‘Hardly a unique theory,’ Ethan sniffed. ‘The account was created in November 2013, two months into the school year.’
‘The year Elle and I were freshmen,’ Madison clarified. ‘Dear Ethan was still a middle schooler at the time, and Bruno was fighting off the Alvarado Clan in Argentina.’
Bruno smirked and tucked a stray lock of black hair behind his ear.
‘Whoever runs The Upper Edge has always been obsessed with us,’ Elle said. ‘It might be one of our classmates, but not necessarily. I think it’s someone from Dalton.’
Hannah narrowed her eyes. ‘Why Dalton?’
‘Dalton is Prescott’s main rival,’ Ethan said. ‘In sports, academics, prestige.’
‘Exactly,’ Elle said. ‘It’s the second best co-ed prep school on the Upper East.’
‘That makes no sense,’ Madison countered. ‘The Upper Edge knows everything about us. How would someone from Dalton get that kind of access?’
‘It makes perfect sense.’ Elle downed the rest of her champagne and placed the coupe on the table for emphasis. ‘The person running The Upper Edge was probably a freshman at Dalton when they created the account. Let’s call her Jane. Jane had an older sibling at Prescott, we’ll call him Harold.’
‘Harold?’ Bruno snorted.
Elle grinned. ‘Sure, why not? So let’s say Jane was jealous because she didn’t get into Prescott like her older brother.
But she paid attention. She started The Upper Edge as a way to air Prescott’s dirty laundry.
Then people began sending in tips – that’s how Jane gets all her gossip.
Harold graduated, but it didn’t matter. Jane’s DMs were always full. ’
‘Interesting theory,’ Madison said. ‘But I still think The Upper Edge is one of us. Occam’s razor.’
‘Occam’s what?’ Ethan asked.
Madison rolled her eyes. ‘Look it up, genius.’
‘Are you going to drink that?’ Bruno asked, eyeing Hannah’s half-full glass of champagne. She nudged it over to him.
She’d only had a few sips, but she was feeling lightheaded.
No matter who ran The Upper Edge, whether it was someone from Prescott or Dalton or Brearley or Spence, one thing was clear: they had the power to break hearts and dash private school dreams. Maybe it had been intentional or maybe she’d been collateral damage, but The Upper Edge had flattened Gemma Phipps with the force of an eighteen-wheeler.
If Hannah was going to keep hanging out with the royalty of Prescott, being a Fellow – and therefore unremarkable – wouldn’t be enough to keep her off Instagram. She would need to tread very, very carefully.