Meanwhile Gardens (22 page)

“Jake had a good night. He’s stabilised although very weak. Apparently he has severe septicaemia.”

“Which is?” Rion asked.

“Blood poisoning,” Auntie Em replied. “The blood literally turns black.”

Rion wrinkled her nose, “Ugh!”

“Poor Jake!” Ollie exclaimed. “What do they think caused it?”

“Well,” Auntie Em sat down in the overstuffed armchair. “They’ve found incredibly high levels of delanquine in his body – apparently it’s some chemical normally used in crop spraying and the like. They can’t understand how he came to have such toxic levels in his blood.”

“Did you say crop spraying?” Ollie asked.

Auntie Em nodded.

“Maybe,” Ollie suggested, “maybe the cemetery guards found one of Jake’s grass patches and sprayed it.”

“Then he smoked it,” Rion said.

Auntie Em was puzzled. “Wouldn’t the plant show signs of chemicals? Withered leaves? Yellowing?”

“Not if it was harvested soon after it was sprayed,” Ollie sat back. “That’s the only explanation.”

“But that must mean Jake would have had to have been practically following the guard round.”

Ollie threw up his hands, “Stranger things have happened.”

Auntie Em remained unconvinced, “Not that strange. Jake didn’t strike me as being a simpleton.”

“Anyway visiting hours are mornings eleven until one and evenings five ‘til seven.”

Rion turned to Ollie, “We could go before the fireworks!”

“Sure,” Ollie said. While they were at St Mary’s Wayne could do Nicky’s quotes and meet them at Primrose Hill he thought.

“Don’t forget we’ve got something to do before then,” Auntie Em arched her eyebrows knowingly at Ollie.

“I won’t,” Ollie stood up and smiled back.

“Won’t what?” Rion asked.

“Shhh! Your first job has arrived,” Ollie pointed out the window to Johnson Ogle. The lifestyle enhancer was just getting out of his silver Mercedes 500 he’d parked outside Nicky’s.

More worryingly he had just spotted Wayne.

“We’d better go,” Ollie said knowing how similar Johnson’s tastes were to his own.

Johnson slowly looked Wayne up and down. “Is this the reason you haven’t been phoning?” he asked Ollie.

“Johnson, Wayne has things to do.”

“And I bet he does them very well,” Johnson said in that mid-Atlantic drawl that was part of his charm.

“This is Rion – Nicky’s assistant – she’ll take you in.”

But Johnson couldn’t take his eyes off Wayne.

Ollie put his arms around the decorator’s shoulders and forcibly turned him in the other direction, “
Now
Johnson.”

The tall man sighed, “And I was thinking he could do something for me.”

“That was obvious my friend. Now go, Nicky’s waiting.”

This would be an easy session. She had snapped Johnson on two previous occasions and he had been a darling – charming, affable, full of stories and, most importantly, fast.

Nicky had borrowed some furniture from Ollie’s workroom with the aim of getting him a credit which, since Ollie had taken Wayne for a night in the West End instead of her, she thought was being overly generous.

“No blusher! I don’t need it.”

She could hear Johnson behind the screen where Naoko, the Japanese make-up girl Nicky used for such occasions, was dusting him.

“Nao – give Johnson what he wants,” she called through, “he has excellent skin.”

“Thank you Nicky,” Johnson came out with the make-up cover still round his shoulders. Rion hurriedly removed it as he walked round the studio.

“I thought we’d use some of Ollie’s furniture in the pictures.”

“Just as long as you remember who the star is Nicks.”

“As if I could forget,” Nicky smiled. “Why don’t we try the bench first, Rion?”

With Rion’s help Nicky moved the simple bench with the
lion’s paw feet to the centre. “Are you coming to Primrose Hill with us tonight?”

As Johnson sat, lay, put one foot on the bench, Nicky began snapping away.

“I wasn’t asked,” he sniffed, “which is just as well as I’ll be at Elton and David’s for dinner. Their chef excels in – well in practically everything actually. She does the most gorgeous Thai thingies...”

Rion listened agog as the names she had only read about dropped thick and fast.

The young girl remained unaware of the frantic activity taking place outside where Auntie Em, assisted by Ollie and Wayne, readied lA for her occupation. A bed was moved in, cupboards wiped down, curtains put up, a fridge installed and filled, flowers put on the table – it seemed there was an endless list of things to be done in such a short time.

“How did you get Jim James to look so slim? You know what the real scandal was about that film?”

To the dismay of his many female fans, and to the delight of their boyfriends, the teen hearthrob had been caught on amateur video in a compromising, and frankly rather uncomfortable, position with another man in a Hyde Park shrubbery.

“Apart from the fact that he was cruising some serious monsters, which in itself was ridiculous,” Johnson continued. “I mean he could have a platoon of marines washed, oiled and sent to his suite and no-one need know about it, no, the real scandal was how out of shape he was. Am I right? A millionaire pop star letting himself go like that? That was the disgusting part, that was the real scandal, no?”

Nicky called to the Japanese girl who stood beside Rion
in the corner, “Dust him ever so lightly Nao. You’re starting to glisten around the forehead Johnson,” she explained.

“Nicks, sweetheart, weren’t you ever told that women glisten, men perspire and horses sweat? Of course when I’m around men sweat, women gossip and horses – well, they just stay in the stable don’t they?”

Nicky adjusted the lights, “I want to do some profiles Johnson and then we’re done.”

“You know it’s my left side I prefer?”

Nicky nodded.

“And then I’m finished?”

“Yup.”

“It’s just I’d like to ask Ollie’s – ” Johnson cleared his throat, “ – builder – ”

Nicky laughed, “Really Johnson, you make him sound like someone’s ‘financial adviser’.”

Johnson tutted.

“Financial advisor is so a couple of years ago Nicks, now its ‘personal trainer’ to indicate you’re shagging which, of course, has taken over from ‘therapist’, ‘stylist’- ”

“‘Counsellor’ – ”

“And soon it’s going to be ‘casting agent’.”

“Really?”

“Count on it Nicks, haven’t you noticed how many of them there are around?”

Nicky chuckled. “Seriously though, would you take Ollie out on Sunday?”

“Could do I suppose – any particular reason?”

“I just think he’ll need some support.”

“Looks like he’s got some firm support if you ask me,” Johnson drawled as he posed for the last shot. “Who’s your silent assistant by the way?”

“Rion. Isn’t she excellent? I’d be lost without her.”

In the corner Rion tried not to look too thrown. Be cool she told herself. Perhaps no-one else had noticed but she hadn’t done a damn thing – how could she be excellent?

“She looks so like Jerry’s eldest daughter – you know the one modelling for Vivienne?” Johnson smiled at Nicky. “You’ll lose her if you’re not careful.”

“I’ve lost her already Johnson – she wants to get a job at Glamourista.”

“What ever for? It’s a terrible office, a real piranha-fest.”

“That’s what I told her. I asked Angie if there was anything going but she said there wasn’t.”

“She just didn’t want to owe you a favour Nicky, but she owes me one already.” Johnson turned his gaze to Rion, “Would you like me to ask her for you?”

Rion had lost her powers of speech. Great, she thought, all I have to do is say yes and I can’t even do that. Feeling her chest freeze she just nodded furiously.

“That’s settled then. I’ll let Nicky know.”

“Th – th – thanks!” Rion managed.

As Nicky walked Johnson out of the studio she said, “Don’t forget to ask Ollie about Sunday – he’s setting himself up for a fall.”

Or we are, she thought unhappily.

Nicky opened the front door to find Auntie Em, a variegated ficus in her arms, hurrying across the mews. She anxiously peered over Nicky’s shoulder.

“Don’t let Rion out yet,” she said in a loud whisper. “We’re not quite ready and Auntie Gem’s not back. I’ll let you know!”

Auntie Em continued on her way. She squeezed past Ollie who was sweeping the hall of lA and vanished up the stairs.

Johnson turned to Nicky, “I love this place – it’s always so full of intrigue.”

She ignored the impulse to tell him just how much. Johnson and secrets just didn’t go together.

“Yes,” Nicky sighed, “isn’t it?” She kissed him on the cheek, “I’ll call when the pictures are done.” Nicky returned to her studio before Rion could see what was going outside.

As Johnson went to greet Ollie a mobile phone rang close by. Johnson checked his but the ringing came from inside lA. Ollie traced it to Wayne’s jacket hanging from a nail in the hall. “Wayne?” he called up but there was no reply.

“Better get that O1,” Johnson advised.

“Wayne Watson’s mobile,” Ollie answered cheerfully. “Hello?” he said again but the other person clicked off without speaking. Ollie looked at the number fading from the mobile’s screen – he was sure he recognised it, but couldn’t quite pin from where.

“I’m taking you to lunch on Sunday Ollie. No arguments. Perhaps your handsome friend might care to join us?”

“Wayne’s being a bit weird about Sunday – you’ll have to settle for me.”

Johnson got into the silver coupe. He wagged his finger at Ollie, “Sunday lunch!” Reversing out of the mews Johnson waved once and was gone.

“Was he really going to have supper with Elton John?” Rion asked.

“If he said so.”

“And when he said David Bowie – is he the one married to Naomi Campbell’s mum?”

“I think you mean Iman?”

Rion nodded.

“She’s like the original Naomi Campbell.”

“He said you looked like Jerry Hall’s daughter!” Nao was impressed.

This was all too much for Rion to take in.

“When Johnson said Vivienne,” she asked hesitantly, slightly worried about all these first names, “did he mean Vivienne Westwood?”

“That would be the only Vivienne he knows.”

Rion couldn’t stop herself blushing.

“Now why don’t we make use of Nao while she’s here and finish off this film?” Nicky switched the lights back on and led Rion to the centre of the studio. Putting the light meter against her she fiddled with the lens.

“On me?” Rion couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Nao,” Nicky called to the make-up artist. “Let’s do some little girl looks like you did for Linda at the Cerruti shows, and then maybe something wilder, something glossy pink, something more Chloé, more Berardi. Ok?”

Nao knew exactly what the photographer wanted. This was more fun than doing Johnson Ogle. She got out her brushes and went to work.

The telltale knock summoned Nicky to the door.

“We’re ready!” came the whispered message.

Returning to the studio Nicky was struck by how beautiful Rion was. What Johnson had pointed out now seemed glaringly obvious. With her long hair pulled away from her face the young girl had the pale pinched cheeks so loved by the camera, not to mention the tall, youthful frame favoured by designers and editors everywhere.

Nicky simply stood and stared.

“What are you looking at?” Rion asked shyly.

Nicky snapped out of it, “You’re stunning Rion. You really are.”

“No I’m not,” the young girl looked at the floor but
couldn’t hide her happiness for long. “That was such fun!” Rion span around, her long blonde hair shimmering under the lights.

The telltale knock again was heard but this time it sounded more urgent.

Nicky smiled and took Rion by the hand, “The best is yet to come.” She took a scarf from the coatrack and blindfolded the young girl with it.

Rion giggled, “What are you doing?”

“You haven’t seen 9 1/2 Weeks have you?”

“How long?”

Earlier in the year Ollie and Nicky had rented the celebrated eighties movie, becoming slightly obsessed with scarves in the process.

“No worries,” Nicky replied.

Rion knew she was on the mews by the cool air on her face. She also knew Auntie Em was nearby from the sound of her whisper.

“Mind the step,” a familiar voice advised.

So Ollie was there too! But she thought they had gone further on from his house.

Hands guided Rion up the stairs, which smelt very strongly of fresh paint. Now she knew where she was.

But what was she doing here?

“Ok,” Auntie Em said. “You can open your eyes.”

Blinking slightly Rion opened her eyes to find herself in the sitting room of lA. A banner had been hung over the fireplace. Its message was short and succinct, spelt out in brightly coloured letters,

WELCOME HOME RION!

Before she could take it all in, Nicky and Auntie Gem
threw streamers at her while Ollie opened a bottle of champagne with a loud POP.

“It’s yours for the time being,” Auntie Em offered Rion a key on a small red velvet cushion. “Or until you find something better.”

When the enormity of what they had done hit her, Rion collapsed onto the sofa. Her eyes welled up. What started as a trickle quickly turned into a torrent until soon she was bawling her eyes out. Perhaps she had a real family at last.

Wayne looked on from the corner, embarrassed at witnessing the genuine emotion before him. His phone came to his rescue. Hearing it ring Wayne went down the stairs for some quiet.

It wouldn’t really matter how loud the surrounding noise was, this voice would always come through loud and clear.

“Wayne, it’s Candida.”

With the real Merlijnche de Poortje hidden under her coat Nicky hurried past Ollie, Wayne and Rion towards the house at the end.

“It’s on top of the dresser in my bedroom,” Auntie Em whispered as the photographer went past her and ran up the stairs.

“Come on Nicks!”

Nicky could hear Ollie and Rion calling impatiently from the mews. She ran into Auntie Em’s room. By the light of the lava lamp she could see Merlijnche de Poortje’s white stole gleaming atop the dresser. She made her way towards it in the eery glow and put the miniature down ready to swap it with the fake one.