CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
As Raina and her sister arrived at the grand Surrey mansion, Raina had to admit it was easy to fall into the fantasy of Pepper’s unbelievable life. The two sisters were led to one of nine guest bedrooms. Named the Blue Room, it was the size of their parents’ ground floor.
Raina did know though, that once the spectacle wore off, the enormous house would go back to feeling lonely and echoey.
Filling it with people seemed like the only option.
Sitting alone in the vastness, with isolation melded into every inch of marble, struck Raina as an easy way to go completely mad.
‘I always thought these massive houses were built like this to keep everyone out, but it’s a bit too cage-like,’ Raina said to her sister.
Solana scoffed. ‘Don’t feel sorry for these people, Rai. We’re here to have a nice night but never forget: agents of capitalism build places like this on the backs of working people’s labour. This is a palace of greed.’
Raina smiled, remembering how fired up and opinionated she herself had been at her sister’s age. ‘All right, Oxford grad.’
‘That’s different – I’m bringing these places down from the inside.’
‘Let them have these houses. It’s eerie. Super lonely.’
‘What’s the charity this year?’
‘Cancer Research,’ Raina said. She’d been the one to arrange all of the administration on that end, and had spoken with the chosen charity. There was going to be an auction at nine o’clock to raise funds in lieu of gifts.
Pepper suddenly burst into the room, moving with such methodical professionalism Raina wondered if she should be wearing a headset of some kind. Or distributing walky-talkies.
‘I looked at the photos you sent,’ Pepper told Raina while she rummaged under the bed. ‘Not twenties enough. Try this instead. You too, Solana.’
Pepper had demanded photographic evidence, via the group chat, of what they were planning to wear.
‘Don’t tell me we’re going to match,’ Raina said, with a glower. ‘Those days are over.’
‘No,’ Pepper relented. ‘These are some of Mum’s old line. They should fit, I checked.’
Tom was in the back of Seb’s Porsche, wincing at the lack of legroom.
They hadn’t left on schedule. Ottie had been ready on time.
Tom had been ready on time. But Seb had tried on multiple jackets and then decided he needed to change his shirt, too.
They were halfway out of the driveway when he jerked the handbrake on and declared that his tie wasn’t right.
Tom noted that his friend was particularly nutty tonight, but didn’t question it. If Seb wanted to honour the unoriginal theme with meticulous need, so be it. He was also aware of Ottie sitting very still. Very quiet.
‘You all right, Ottie?’ he asked, while Seb went to change for the final time.
‘Oh, fine,’ she said smoothly. ‘You have some very interesting stuff in your flat.’
Tom frowned. ‘What?’
‘What’s that board in your room?’
Tom blinked twice in rapid succession. ‘When were you in my room?’
‘When we came over with the invite. I just peeked in for a second. Curiosity. What’s the board?’
Tom bit back the reply he wanted to give. The one stating it was none of Ottie’s business what was on that board. ‘It’s for work.’
‘For your story?’
‘No, just ideas. It’s just a place to stuff notes and facts and observations, so they don’t clam up my brain.’
‘Oh. You’re still writing your book though?’
‘Yes. The board just collates all the information I have and then I look for connections. It doesn’t make sense right now, but it will.’
‘I just like seeing your process,’ she said, turning around in the passenger seat to smile serenely at him.
‘Yeah, well.’ Tom couldn’t ignore the hint of violation he was feeling. ‘It’s pretty private, Ottie.’
‘Oh, who am I going to tell?’
Tom was about to tell her what he’d said to Ben and Tori earlier that day.
That he wouldn’t be including Raina in his book.
He’d made up his mind on the night of her birthday.
Even if his notes were positive, even if his future work might mention her incredible influence, she was no longer his subject.
She was the person he wanted to take on life with.
He was in love with her. In a way that was made of stone.
He was about to say so when the car door was yanked open and Seb collapsed into the driving seat, the whole Porsche rocking as he did. ‘Right. I’m good. Let’s go.’
‘At last,’ muttered Tom.
The drive seemed shorter than the wait time for Seb to finally be ready.
As they reached Pepper’s family home, Tom could only roll the window down and gape.
Their invitations were checked at the gated entrance before the car was permitted to drive up to the main house.
It looked like something from a murder mystery adaptation and posed an intimidating figure, standing in isolation.
As the car nipped up the drive, Tom felt a sudden nettle sting of foreboding.
Plenty of guests were already mingling in the house upon arrival.
There were staff milling about in uniform and people asking for charitable donations.
Tom split from his friends, who’d spotted some fellow reality television stars.
From a glance, Tom could see no shortage of familiar faces.
A couple of young politicians, from a party Tom would never vote for, were at the bar with their aides.
A few faces he’d seen at publishing house roof parties were there, too.
Pepper’s contemporaries, young women who were trying to keep their follower count and financial worth in the same figures.
Reality television stars with teeth that were so luminescent Tom expected them to light up the dark.
Oligarchs, heiresses, the occasional assistant who’d been roped in to whisper over their employer’s shoulder.
Trophy partners looking bored with their significant others and significantly more interested in others.
Athletes who were uncomfortable in suits and even more uncomfortable now that they had to talk.
Actors fresh out of RADA who knew most of the room already from their parents’ Christmas soirées or opening-night parties.
Musicians, artists and someone with a large Great Dane.
Tom really wanted a drink, but the bar was surrounded by a cavalcade of people he had no interest in brushing by, let alone speaking to. He was about to go in search of Raina when he spotted a familiar face in a uniform.
‘Tom Branimir?’
‘Alistair!’
He shook hands with the waiter, whose face was as old as Tom’s, yet somehow so much more youthful. They’d gone to the same primary school and grown up two streets apart.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ laughed Alistair. ‘No, never mind. I hear all about your features. My sister sometimes emails them to me. Your mum used to post them all over the neighbourhood Facebook page. Good for you!’
‘Thanks,’ Tom murmured, feeling hot and uncomfortable. ‘I didn’t know you’d moved down here.’
There was an unspoken solidarity between the pair. The kind that emerged whenever two Scots met in a room full of English people.
‘I’m living the dream of serving these people inedible food.’
‘So, you don’t recommend whatever that is?’ Tom asked, nodding at the tray Alistair was holding.
‘Nah, pal. Don’t risk it.’
‘You prepared for lots of, “Oh, I’m from Scotland, too” tonight?’
‘Of course. Daddy’s shooting parties are always up there, second home in Skye, Caledonian sleeper. I’ve got a bingo card ready.’
‘Are you at least being paid well?’ Tom asked.
‘Aye, so, that’s a given. These things are worth the humiliation for the pay.’
Alistair suddenly pointed to the top of the grand staircase. ‘There’s the boss. She’s actually pretty nice.’
Tom turned to look. Pepper Cousins was preparing to make her entrance down into the main aquarium of the party, a colourful hostess ready to swim among lifeless coral and a few barracudas.
Tom wasn’t sure which one he was. Then Raina appeared and he stopped thinking altogether.
She was laughing with her sister and they were dressed more thematically than most of the room.
She whispered something to Pepper then walked down the stairs with a jaunty freeness that was so at odds with everyone else.
Alistair was serving some city brokers, and it allowed Tom to push his way through the crowd to the foot of the stairs.
He wasn’t keeping his distance this time, like he had at her birthday.
She caught his eye and grinned. ‘Hey, old sport.’
He put both hands on her hips and lifted her down from the stairs. She had fashioned up her long hair and he was tempted to unpin every inch of it just to see it fall down.
‘You look very handsome,’ she said, pulling at his lapels.
He’d been meaning to compliment her and say something flirtatious, but he found himself pulling her into his chest instead. He held her head against his heart with one hand and kissed her temple. She nestled into him, sliding her arms around his hips, but he could feel her questioning his reaction.
‘You all right?’ she asked when he finally released her.
‘Yeah,’ he said gruffly. ‘Better now.’
The DJ started his set, and Pepper was being hounded by guests from all angles. Raina took Tom’s hand and led him through the large foyer towards a door disguised as a bookcase.
‘This is where the real food is kept,’ she told him.
The secret door led to a little snug where there were platters of decent-looking little sandwiches and pies. Raina shut them both inside and gestured for Tom to help himself to the little feast.
‘Pep knows some of us can’t stand that corporate finger food.’
‘Nice little hiding spot.’
He sat on a loveseat at the far side of the snug and pulled Raina into his lap. She was swallowing a small scotch egg.
‘Sorry,’ she said, mouth full. ‘I can’t mask on an empty stomach.’
‘I prefer you unmasked.’
She stared at him. ‘Really?’
Her voice sounded so small.
‘Of course,’ he insisted.