Lucky (51 page)

‘For Christ’s sake, cut out the rich girl act,’ he said in a low angry voice. ‘What are you aiming for? Cunt of the year?’

‘I’ve got a hangover,’ she replied sulkily.

‘So live with it, and stop taking it out on everyone else.’

She liked forceful men. It was a shame there weren’t more around. ‘Sorry,’ she answered contritely. ‘I’ll behave.’

But she didn’t, and by the time they arrived at Nice airport he was fuming. A helicopter was waiting to take them on to St Tropez and the yacht. Olympia climbed aboard, and promptly fell asleep.

Lennie brooded about the wisdom of what he had done. Jess – who rarely called a shot wrong – had said he was insane. If this was a taste of things to come, she was right.

The luxury and opulence of the Stanislopoulos yacht amazed Lennie. Only in movies had he seen anything like it.
The Greek
was a floating palace.

Alice ruined everything. She was the first to greet them as they came aboard – a bizarre picture in a red striped romper suit worn with stiletto heels, fish-net tights, and an abundance of make-up – including false eyelashes. ‘Welcome,’ she said graciously, as if it were
her
boat. ‘Make yourselves at home.’

Olympia threw her a withering look. ‘Alice, dear,’ she said. ‘This
has
been my home for most of my life. I don’t need you to welcome me. Where is Brigette? And why aren’t you with her? She is the only reason you’re here. I’m sure you’re aware of that.’

Olympia did not believe in holding back – she wanted Alice to get the message up front.

Lennie couldn’t care less. He looked around. Servants seemed to be appearing from everywhere, taking their luggage, offering cold champagne on silver trays.

‘Where is my father?’ Olympia demanded of a man in a white uniform.

‘He’s gone ashore, Miss Olympia,’ replied Captain Pratt. ‘For lunch. He’s due back shortly. He said you should meet him in the upstairs bar at three o’clock.’

‘He’s taken Brigette,’ added Alice. ‘I wanted to go with them, but your daddy said I should stay here.’

‘Wise man,’ murmured Olympia. She turned to the captain and said haughtily, ‘And where are the rest of the guests?’

‘Most of them are ashore, Miss Olympia.’ Captain Pratt gave Lennie a quick once-over while Olympia yawned and complained about the trip. ‘Will you be wanting lunch, miss?’ he added.

‘No,’ she replied, not even, consulting Lennie. ‘I need to rest.’

Alice laughed gaily. ‘Well, Lennie, well my
hoychick.
What do
you
think of all this?’

‘I think I want to take a piss and change my clothes,’ he replied dourly. She had not caught him at the right moment.

*   *   *

St Tropez was at the height of the season. Tourists mixed with the natives on the cobbled harbour streets lined with fashionable boutiques and open-air restaurants. Yachts jostled for position along the small harbour, and their occupants sat out on deck sipping margueritas and watching the passing crowds. By noon there was a lunchtime parade of nubile bodies clad in the latest fashions.

Dimitri strolled with his pretty blonde granddaughter, Brigette, Saud Omar, and Jenkins Wilder. Between them the three men could buy and sell France. Easily. Several paces behind hovered various bodyguards trying to appear unobtrusive in city clothes with hidden shoulder-holsters.

All three men eyed the passing female parade with a mixture of boredom and half-hearted lust. Money had taught them most women were available – for a price. Whether the price be a new dress or a fleet of Mercedes was up for discussion. But the fact remained that the excitement of the chase was never really there, because the prize was always a foregone conclusion.

Brigette skipped happily along, holding on to her grandfather’s hand. She loved being with Dimitri, he called her his little Diamond Princess and bought her anything she wanted. Anything at all. She was glad to be off the boat. Things were different this year. Dimitri had married again, and had a disgusting baby called Roberto.

Stupid name.

Stupid baby.

Brigette hated them both, and wondered why her mother hadn’t told her about them. After all, the dumb baby had taken over her old room with his stupid black nanny. But that was okay really, because she had a new room, a grownup room with blue wallpaper and a bubble jet tub.
And
, best of all, she didn’t have Nanny Mabel sharing it with her – she had her new friend, Alice, and Alice was lots and lots of fun and stayed up all night long talking. Brigette didn’t understand half of it, but that didn’t matter. Alice was fun even if she did look a little screwy, smelled kind of odd, never stopped talking, and wore more make-up than Miss Piggy.

‘We’ll stop for lunch here,’ Dimitri decided, pausing in front of a fashionable restaurant. Quickly a front table was cleared for them, while the bodyguards settled nearby.

Brigette had spotted an Aladdin’s cave of trinkets next door. ‘I want to go shopping, grandpappa,’ she announced sweetly.

‘Tomorrow,’ Dimitri said dismissively. ‘One of the women will take you.’

‘I want to go
now.
’ She managed to make her bottom lip quiver. ‘I can go by myself. The store’s right there. Look.
See?’
She pointed.

‘All right, if you’re quick.’

‘I don’t have any money, Grandpappa.’

Dimitri groped in the pocket of his sports shirt, but like most very rich people, he carried no cash.

‘Here you go, honey,’ boomed Jenkins Wilder, reaching into a Gucci clutch he carried everywhere and producing a stack of hundred-dollar bills. ‘How many will make you happy? Two? Three?’

She grabbed three hundred dollars.

‘Too much,’ grumbled Dimitri.

‘I’m buying presents, grandpappa,’ Brigette explained patiently, and skipped off.

Dimitri nodded at one of the bodyguards to follow her.

Jenkins Wilder sat back and grinned. ‘Crrazee lookin’ broads, here,’ he remarked. ‘If n I wasn’t a ma
rrr
ied man I might have myself a time.’

‘French women expect too much attention,’ Saud said, his oily eyes watchful. ‘And usually they are not worth the trouble.’

‘I agree,’ said Dimitri. ‘English women are the most sensual.’

‘God-darn – you just got yourself hitched to an American gal,’ Jenkins pointed out.

This was true, Dimitri reflected, and Lucky was certainly an unusual beauty. But she was not Francesca, and he still harboured a deep passion for Madame Fern. A passion which never seemed to cool.

He was beginning to think that inviting her on the cruise was not such a good idea. Now he and Lucky were married, it was impossible to spend private time with Francesca. Before, with only Horace to contend with, it had never been a problem. Horace never dared interfere.

Dimitri half hoped Lucky would tire of the cruise and fly back to New York. He preferred their relationship when it was not quite so permanent – but he had to marry her because of Roberto. No son of his was going to go through life without the protection of the Stanislopoulos name.

‘I have also found in life,’ Saud Omar contemplated, ‘that English women are indeed the most erotic in the bedroom when you penetrate their natural reserve.’ He lingered over the word penetrate, while his olive-oil eyes surveyed the bouncing breasts of two teenage girls passing by, wearing thin knit tank tops and minuscule bikini bottoms.

‘Ah never had myself a limey chick,’ ruminated Jenkins Wilder. ‘Ah was stationed outside of London with the army way back in fifty-one – but I was too doggawned scared of catching the clap!’

*   *   *

Lennie showered and changed into Levi cut-offs and a faded denim shirt, while Olympia lay on the bed and complained.

She complained about her father not being there to greet her.

She complained about Alice.

She complained about Captain Pratt. ‘I’ve told poppa to get rid of him for years. He’s got nasty little eyes.’

She complained about Captain Pratt’s wife. ‘A terrible cook. Why do you think I refused lunch?’

‘C’mon,’ said Lennie, trying to ignore her bad mood. ‘Loosen up. We’re supposed to be on vacation. Let’s hit the streets and explore.’

‘Explore?’ she sneered derisively. ‘I hate St Tropez, it’s full of boring tourists and hookers.’

‘I want to explore,’ he said stubbornly.

‘Go ahead. I’m not stopping you. But I do expect you to wait until after you’ve met Dimitri.’

He looked at the time, it was a quarter to three. ‘That’s the reason I’m here, isn’t it?’

She got off the bed and started to primp in front of the mirror. She wanted to snort some coke, but once again she didn’t care to share it. Casually she smuggled her supply into the bathroom, locked the door, and laid down two lines.

Relief was immediate. She had been feeling lousy all day with just a few Valium to keep her going. Like a fool she had packed her supply of coke, and had only now been able to get her hands on it.

She snorted first one nostril, then the other. Clouds lifted. Her head was clear. She felt ready to take on the world.

Lennie banged on the door. ‘What are you doing in there?’ he yelled.

‘Just fixing my hair,’ she called back.

‘Hurry up.’ He was strangely disoriented. London had been great. But maybe agreeing to come on this cruise was a mistake. Taking on Olympia was one thing – he could handle her – even if she was turning out to be a prize pain in the ass. But the father was going to think he was after her money, and the rest of the group did not exactly sound like fun city. Plus he had Alice to put up with. And all he really wanted to do was work on his material for the Carson show.

Olympia finally emerged and took his hand. She seemed in a better humour. ‘Let’s go meet daddyoh!’ she said brightly. ‘He looks a bit forbidding, but take no notice of that, he’s really easy. Just answer his questions, don’t get pissed off, and I promise you we’ll only have to do this once a year.’

They made their way to the upstairs deck. Greek music was playing through stereo speakers, and Dimitri was demonstrating some intricate steps to Brigette. The child was sunny-faced and laughing, while Alice stood to one side clapping her hands joyfully.

‘A perfect family scene,’ whispered Olympia gleefully. And then she threw herself into the whole greeting routine.

‘My baby!’ to a disinterested Brigette. Kiss kiss.

‘Pappa!’ to Dimitri, who waved her away while he finished his dance.

When he was ready, and only then, did he return her greeting.

Lennie hung back, watching from the sidelines, willing Alice to keep quiet. And for once she did.

‘Poppa, I want you to meet Lennie Golden,’ Olympia announced. ‘My new husband.’

Christ! She made him sound like a possession! He extended his hand and wondered – for a moment – what he was doing on a huge yacht in the south of France meeting a man like Dimitri Stanislopoulos and married to his daughter. It was crazy time.

Dimitri glared at him with piercing eyes, his expression rock-hard. ‘So,’ he said loudly.
‘You’re
the latest one.’

A remark Lennie did not like, especially as his extended hand was ignored. He formulated something insulting to say. Nobody was going to get away with treating
him
like shit – Olympia’s father or not.

Before he could do or say anything Dimitri suddenly enveloped him in a bear hug. ‘Welcome to our family,’ he boomed. ‘If you are good enough for Olympia, then you are good enough for me.’ A brisk wave at the barman. ‘Champagne for everyone. We have much to celebrate.’

Olympia grinned and hugged Lennie’s arm. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s wonderful, isn’t it?’

‘Wonderful. Excellent,’ agreed Dimitri, beaming. ‘And I have a surprise for you, too.’

‘What?’ demanded Olympia, thinking perhaps a new diamond necklace – Dimitri was always generous when she married.

‘Grandpop got married too!’ chirped Brigette excitedly. ‘And you have a
brother
, mama. And I’m his
aunt.
Really. Truthfully. Honestly! I’m an auntie!’

Olympia’s smile stiffened. Was the limelight to be stolen from her? She looked at her father for confirmation that Brigette was lying as usual.

He nodded. ‘It is true. I also am married again. And I have been blessed with a son.’

For a moment Olympia felt faint. Too much travelling and not enough coke to ward off the effect of this latest bombshell. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she said vaguely.

‘It’s true! It’s true! It’s true!’ chanted Brigette.

‘Yes it is,’ said Alice, grabbing a glass of champagne from a silver tray, and joining in what she perceived as a riotous celebration.

Olympia took a deep breath. His getting married again wasn’t too bad. But having a
kid
– at
his
age. She was the only Stanislopoulos heir, and that’s the way it had to stay. Rich as she was, she had no intention of sharing the vast inheritance she would come into when Dimitri died. It was all hers. This just wasn’t fair!