The Nature of Cruelty (21 page)

Feeling reckless and in a way kind of sexually empowered, I pull on the knickers and then clip the bra in place. It stops a couple of inches down my ribs and pushes my boobs right up. Well, well, well. I finish by zipping on my dress and rummaging my black peep-toe heels out of the wardrobe.

“Lana, are you almost ready?” Sasha calls from her room. “The limo’s just arrived.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” I call back, shoving a few necessities into my clutch bag.

I find Robert waiting at the foot of the stairs, dressed in his black-on-black-on-black ensemble. Sasha was right, it does make him look like the devil – in the most attractive way possible. I suddenly realise that we match.

He smiles wickedly when he sees me, taking my hand into his, turning it over and giving the inside of my wrist a tender kiss.

“Are you wearing them?” he whispers.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I whisper back flirtatiously.

His grin is strangely approving. “That dress makes the colour of your hair stand out like crazy,” he comments, just as Sasha leaves her room and comes downstairs.

She’s wearing the silvery satin dress she picked out today with matching flats, and her short hair is gelled and clipped over to the side.

“Wow, Sasha, you look like a runway model,” I exclaim.

“Yeah, Sash, you scrub up well. Who’d have guessed,” says Robert.

“Oh, shut up, the both of you,” she replies nervously.

Sasha feigns smacking Robert on the head with her bag and saunters past us to the door. Robert offers me his arm, but I ignore it and follow Sasha. I’m not ready for her to know what’s going on just yet. That will require some alone time and an empty room where she can yell at me about how I’m being an idiot for trusting her brother.

We get inside the black limo, and the driver pulls away from the house. Robert sits close beside me while Sasha sits on the other side and opens up the drinks cabinet. Their dad and his girlfriend Melanie are coming with us, so we’re on our way to his house on Hampstead Heath.

“Did you remember the watch?” Robert asks Sasha, referring to the present they bought for their dad. I didn’t buy him anything, because there really isn’t anything I could afford that a man like Alan Phillips would want. Sasha said he wouldn’t notice even if I bought him a brand-new Ferrari anyway, he’s so jaded.

I stare out the tinted windows as we approach his home in all its regal Georgian glory. It’s strange to think that this is where Robert and Sasha spent all their summer holidays growing up. The driver gets out to knock on the front door, and a couple of minutes later Alan and Melanie emerge.

“Ah, my children, how are you both this fine evening?” Alan asks merrily as he climbs inside the vehicle. By the looks of it, he’s already had a few.

Melanie gets in wearing a gold dress that she proclaims was designed by Vivienne Westwood, even though nobody asked, and her caramel hair is pulled up in an intricate style.

“It’s very pretty,” I tell her, referring to the dress, since she quite obviously wanted a compliment and neither Robert nor Sasha spoke up to give her one. She clearly has it in her mind that she’s going to be their new mother (and by the way she’s eating Robert up with her eyes, I’m thinking she wants it to be an oedipal sort of relationship). Ugh.

“Thank you,” she replies with a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t quite get your name?”

“This is Lana,” Robert interrupts, placing his hand momentarily on my shoulder.

“Oh, well, thank you, Lana.”

“Sasha, you look marvellous,” says Alan. “You should dress up more often.”

Sasha grimaces and hands her father his birthday present. “Happy Birthday, Dad. This is from me and Robert,” she says, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

He takes the small bag and shoves it to the side. “Oh, lovely. I’ll have Henry put it with the rest of the gifts when we arrive at the hotel.” His eyes move to Robert. “Now, son, I heard it through the grapevine that you moved out of the penthouse. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Robert gets a little tense. “Oh, yeah, and what grapevine would that be?”

“It was Eleanor Wallace, if you must know the details.”

“Kara’s mother needs to learn how to keep her mouth shut,” says Robert under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Yes, I moved out. Kara and I have ended things.”

Alan starts laughing and shaking his head. “She did you, mate. She’s a crafty one, that Kara. I would have had her out on her ear before she could get her claws into the place. Instead you run off with your tail between your legs and let her keep it.”

Robert gives his dad an irritated look. “It was a rental. It’s not like I gave her an apartment that was bought and paid for, Dad. Besides, I was getting tired of living there anyway.”

“Of course you were,” says Alan, looking pleased. “Women will try to take you for everything, son. You’ve got to start being wise to that now, or else you’ll find yourself in ten years’ time divorced and giving half of everything you own to some old bitch you got pregnant and who wormed her way into convincing you to marry her.”

“Jesus, who exactly are we talking about now?” Robert asks. “Because it sounds like you’re going on one of your bitter rants about Mum again.”

“He always rants about Mum when he’s drunk,” Sasha explains to me in a quiet whisper.

My mouth forms a round “oh” of acknowledgment. I’ve only ever witnessed Alan speak fondly of Liz in the past.

“Speaking of that old sow,” Alan slurs. “Do you know I invited her over for my party and she said no? She thinks she’s bloody better than me, living over there in her quaint little cottage. Ha! Don’t make me laugh.”

“Alan, honey, let’s talk about something else, yeah?” says Melanie, placing her arm around his shoulders. He becomes distracted by her cleavage, and Sasha rolls her eyes in disgust. I turn to Robert to see he’s staring out the window. He glances down at me then and rubs his thumb along my wrist. I close my eyes for a moment before pulling my hand away. He gives me a confused look but doesn’t try to touch me again.

When we reach The Dorchester, I find that there’s actually a few paparazzis outside, so there must be some celebs attending. A couple of cameras flash as we emerge, but they mostly seem interested in photographing Alan and Melanie.

Sasha links her arm through mine as we get out of the limo, and a moment later Robert takes my other arm.

“Do you get the irony?” Robert asks Sasha as a camera flashes in our direction. “You’re a pap who’s being papped.”

She shakes her head at him, laughing. “Yep, it’s a strange old world, bro.”

We make our way inside the ballroom, where Alan’s entrance is immediately greeted with loud cheers and whoops and people shouting, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

The place is decked out to the nines. There are chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and mirrors on the walls to give the illusion of even more space. In the centre of the room is a dance floor, with chairs and tables on the outskirts. A stage has been set up at the head of the room, and I have to do a double-take when I see the band.

“Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that Duran Duran?” I ask Sasha in amazement.

She laughs. “He gets them to play every year. They’re his favourite; the ’80s were his heyday.”

I snicker. “Okay, now I’m just imagining your dad with blond highlights and a mullet.”

“I think I saw a picture of him in a white blazer once,” Robert puts in humorously. “Oh, and Spandau Ballet will be on later.”

I gape at him. “Are you serious?”

“Yep. You’ll never want to hear another keyboard again before the night is out,” he jokes.

“I dunno. I kind of fancy Martin Kemp,” I confess sheepishly.

“I like that song “Gold.” It makes me feel indestructible,” Sasha adds.

It takes me and Robert a second to get that one. When we do, we shake our heads at her simultaneously with suppressed grins.

“Please tell me you’re joking about fancying Martin Kemp,” says Robert, turning his attention back to me.

“Nope. He’s very well preserved for his age. Oh, and speaking of Kemps, I think I just spotted Ross.”

Sasha groans. “That’s not Ross Kemp, that’s fucking Jimmy.”

“The one who wants to date you?” I ask.

“Unfortunately, yes. Come on, let’s go sit down before he spots me.”

We join Alan and Melanie at a big round table full of fancily dressed people I’ve never met before. A waiter comes and hands us glasses of champagne. I’m aware that two glasses is my limit, so I savour it slowly and pick at some of the healthier-looking finger foods. Simon Le Bon is currently introducing “Hungry like the Wolf,” and the crowd are cheering like crazy.

“Okay,” I say, biting into a delicious cracker with cream cheese and smoked salmon. “I’m convinced I’m looking at one of the Loose Women.”

“Oh, which one?” Sasha asks. “I love that Carole McGiffin. She cracks me up.”

“I’m not sure. I think it’s the one with the boyfriend half her age.”

“That’s not really narrowing it down.” Robert laughs.

“Okay, then it’s the one who’s a bit mental.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down, either,” he goes on.

“Oh, I give up,” I say, laughing now.

Suddenly Alistair is standing at our table with an older couple who I presume are his parents. They both go to wish Alan a happy birthday, leaving Alistair with us. He kneels down by Sasha.

“Right, another hour or so here, and then we can start making our way back to mine. I left Jacob and Sandra there to organise things,” he says to Sasha.

She nods while taking a bite out of a tiny sandwich. “Sounds good to me. Dad is already drunk. Another hour, and he won’t notice whether or not we’re alive, never mind still here.”

“Do we have to leave so soon?” I cut in, unable to imagine Alistair’s as being more fun than this. “I really want to see Spandau Ballet perform.”

Alistair bursts into laughter. “I take it this is your first time at one of Alan’s parties?” he says. “Because if it wasn’t, you wouldn’t want to hear another ’80s tune ever again.”

“I already warned her about the keyboards,” Robert puts in.

“Fine, fine,” I accede. “I guess seeing Duran Duran will have to be enough excitement.”

Alistair grins at me and pulls Sasha up for a dance. “Girls on Film” has just started, and now Alan’s climbing out of his seat and proclaiming this to be “his song.”

Robert lets his face fall to his hands.

“You’ve gone scarlet,” I say, nudging his shoulder in amusement.

“Dad’s terrible when he drinks.” He pauses just as Alan begins chanting the lyrics. There are men and women all around him chanting them, too. “As you can see.”

“It’s his birthday. We’re all allowed to be embarrassing on our birthdays.”

“I suppose.” He turns his chair to face me, leaning one elbow on the table. Next, he runs his fingers along the edge of my dress where it dips down into my cleavage. I’m showing some skin but not nearly as much as some of the women I’ve seen here so far. His eyes have grown dark with desire, and his mouth hangs open slightly.

“Guess what I’m wondering?” he says in a low voice.

“How long before your dad gives himself a heart attack with those dance moves,” I reply, gesturing to Alan working it over by the stage.

His lips twitch. “No. What I’m wondering is if that champagne has gotten you tipsy enough to let me lure you off to a private room.”

I raise an eyebrow and lift my glass to show him how little I’ve drunk. “I’ve barely taken five sips.”

“Yeah, but you’re a lightweight.”

“True. I’m still not tipsy enough, though.”

“Dance with me, then?” he asks, taking my hand into his.

“Okay,” I answer, allowing him to lead me out onto the floor.

The band have started playing “Ordinary World,” and Robert twirls me around before pulling me to him for a slow dance. He brings his mouth close to my ear and whispers, “You’ve got the softest breasts I’ve ever touched.”

I cough and give him a wide-eyed look. His hands travel down the curve of my spine before resting on my hips. He moves my body from side to side as people dance around us. I catch Sasha’s eye from where she and Alistair are joking around, doing ridiculous dance moves. She sees me dancing with Robert and mouths “WTF?” I shrug, and then she shrugs back. We both laugh at the same time and return our attention to our dance partners.

“Great, that’s all I need,” Robert mutters, staring at something over my shoulder.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Kara’s just walked in with Gary and her parents,” he answers. His nose brushes against my temple, and I like how it feels.

“Oh. Well, I doubt she’ll start any trouble with you. You did take down that picture of her, right?”

“Yeah, I took it down, but only because you asked me. I took down those shots of you on the beach, too,” he goes on.

“That’s good.” I nod soberly.

“Fortunately, you never requested I delete them completely, so I can still look at them on my computer,” he tells me brazenly.

“Is your dad good friends with her parents?” I say to change the subject.

“Yeah. Our dads went to college together. Thick as thieves. Do you mind if I turn you so I don’t have to look at her? She’s giving me the evils from halfway across the room.”

“Sure, work away.”

He deftly swings my body around, one hand moving slightly towards my bottom. I hadn’t thought this whole thing through, because now
I
have to see Kara. Thankfully she’s not giving me evil looks like she’d been giving Robert. That’s one thing I’ll give her props for; she doesn’t fall into the typical stereotype of the girlfriend who despises any women who get close to her ex after the breakup.

“I think she might still have feelings for you,” I whisper to Robert.

“Oh, yeah, why’s that?”

“Because people only act bitchy or angry when they care about something.”

“The only thing she cares about is her wounded pride. She expects me to try and get her back from Gary, when as far as I’m concerned he can have her and her snooty parents. Besides, I’m doing this thing with you now…” He trails off, his eyes intense, and flattens his hand out on my bottom. I just hope Sasha doesn’t see it.