The Complete #LoveLondon Collection

‘Right.’ She took another sip of champagne and set the flute aside. ‘Here goes then.’ The envelope was smaller than the others but with a bulkier object in one corner, so she opened it with care, unfurling the scented paper.

A world class hotel, with old world glamour,

A slice of pink heaven, refined not with clamour,

Louis sixteenth design, art easy on the eye,

Best dining rooms in Europe, that’s FYI.

Bronze gilt and sumptuous chandeliers,

join me for dinner, it won’t end in tears.

? x

P.s. wear these.

She tapped the envelope against her palm and a square jewellery box fell out. She flipped back the lid, holding her breath. A pair of twinkling diamond earrings nestled on the velvet pillow. This was too much. Getting her iPhone out, she did a google search and then texted Kate.

Hey, hope you’re having a good NYE so far. Decked out in designer togs, with hair & make-up done. Heels, bag, expensive jewellery – the lot. Looks like it’s Christian and I’m going to a famous hotel. Will catch up with you later, F xx

Frankie tucked her phone away, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘I know where we’re going,’ she announced to the driver.

‘Where shall I take you Madam?’ he raised an eyebrow.

‘The Ritz, please. But can you circle the block a few times? I need a couple of minutes.’

‘Of course,’ he replied automatically.

‘Thank you.’ She said softly, sinking back against the seat, gazing out at Hyde Park Corner, where she and Zack had gone for a walk on their lunch break only a few weeks before.

***

Zack was leaning up against the inside of the impressive Wellington Arch, traffic streaming past them, roaring and beeping. His breath was puffing out in front of him in clouds. It was the coldest day so far, and personally Frankie would much rather be in the staff room warmly wrapped up, but Zack had convinced her to jump on a bus and get some fresh air. Well, as fresh as you could get in the middle of London.

‘It’s the anniversary, or close to it, isn’t it?’ he asked her, tucking his hands in his jacket pockets. ‘You look sad today.’

Frankie nodded, wrapping her purple scarf tighter around her face. ‘Mum died a year ago today,’ she gulped. She’d told him about her mum’s premature heart attack over lunch one day, when he’d picked up a health magazine and made a comment about an article in it. They’d had a debate over what caused heart attacks and how devastating the unexpected ones were for families and friends. A swift departure for people who were supposed to be around for a long time yet. ‘I suppose I should be over it a bit more by now.’ She sniffed, hunching her shoulders, hoping he wouldn’t hug her. If he was sympathetic, she might cry. And she wasn’t the crying sort.

‘Rubbish,’ he said bluntly, ‘a year isn’t that long, and everyone is different. People react differently,’ thankfully he seemed to pick up on her body language, staying where he was against the arch, ‘some people need routine, or a longer time to assimilate. Some need to take a break from work; others need the normality of getting up every day, having a purpose.’ He gazed at her. ‘Unfortunately death is something that everyone has to deal with at some point or another. No one is exempt.’

‘It’s part of life,’ she mumbled, recalling the words Christian had thrown at her during their last argument.

‘Yes. But it’s a horrible, shitty part of life,’ Zack expanded, ‘probably one of the shittiest parts. You have to give yourself time, until one day it doesn’t hurt so badly.’

‘I guess. It’s just that it was so sudden, so quick. One day she was there at the end of a phone, and we were planning a visit, and then…she was gone. I hadn’t seen her in months.’

‘Don’t feel guilty,’ he looked at her, dark blue eyes intense, ‘I can see that’s what you’re doing. But she would have known you loved her. You were her daughter. You’re still her daughter. You’re here, and you remember her. That’s what matters.’

‘And my dad,’ she agreed fiercely, ‘Dad still loves her. He remembers her.’

‘And loads of other people too, I can almost bet on it.’

‘Yes.’ Frankie nodded, gulping again, tears filling her eyes. She blinked. ‘Do you mind if we change the subject?’

‘Sure,’ Zack nodded. ‘But am I allowed to ask if you got hurt before or after she died?’

‘It was a few weeks after,’ she said, ‘I was in an accident. I’d rather not talk about that either though. It happened, I got better, now I’m largely fine, apart from the odd bad day when I ache. I don’t like thinking about it.’

‘I understand,’ Zack pushed away from the wall, ‘Brr, that was freezing!’ He offered her his arm, ‘Take a five minute spin on this,’ he said, ‘and then we’ll head back to work.’

She looped her arm through his companionably, ‘Sounds like a plan. Thank you for listening to me, and not pushing.’

‘Happy to, and it’s not an issue. Just one thing though Frankie.’

She ground to a halt, knowing he was serious from his use of her first name. She’d almost started answering to weird girl recently. ‘What’s that?’

‘Sometimes to go forward, you have to look back.’

***

Zack’s words rang in her head as she walked up the stairs of The Ritz and through the gold revolving door, having received welcoming nods from the staff dressed in smart, gold buttoned uniforms and top hats. Was this going to be her chance to confront her past? Or was it going to be an opportunity to move forward? Who was waiting for her at dinner?

She bit her lip to hold back a gasp as she entered the reception area, thinking of the clue. It really was a slice of pink heaven, and she could totally understand why the interior architecture was so praised, with high vaulted ceilings and impressive bronze detailing and fine art hanging from or painted into every available space, glittering chandeliers and large vases of deep blood-red roses. It screamed refinement and luxury and old money. She’d never been here with Christian; he’d always preferred the more modern establishments. No matter what happened, she couldn’t regret coming on this scavenger hunt. The destination was beautiful and definitely worth the journey.

She walked along the red and white patterned carpet. It was busy, lots of people milling around and seated in a lounge area with a piano, with guests walking along to the ornate dining room. Chatter filled the air, but it was still muted somehow, like everyone was too polite to speak or laugh too loudly.

‘Miss Taylor?’ A man in a tux appeared next to her.

She nodded, and he slipped the wrap from her shoulders. ‘You’re to come through to the Rivoli Bar please, while your table is prepared.’

She followed him as he lead her into an art deco ante-room equipped with a bar, all dark wooden wall panels inlaid with gold details, gold raised ceilings from which chandeliers hung, white and gold curtains gathered in at the centre with what looked like large gold coins with tassels hanging from them, black and white animal print chairs, smooth round yellow tables with glass candle holders, parquet floors with tasteful but modern block multi-coloured blue, gold, red and white rugs laid down on it.

‘Here you are, Madam.’ The waiter gestured to a table, his body blocking Frankie’s view of the guest sat at it. For a moment, before he moved, she had an instant, crazy, confusing hope it might be Zack sat there.

‘Oh. Hi.’ She was disappointed to see Christian’s dark-haired sex godlikeness lounging in the chair, looking as cool and collected as ever. He always looked good, super slick and super cool. Tonight he was wearing a white, open necked shirt under a suit jacket. But slick and cool wasn’t always the preferable option. She was starting to realise she might like warm and quirky and nice instead.

‘Don’t look so pleased to see me.’ Christian stood up and came round the table, kissing her on the cheek.

She edged away slightly as his aftershave hit her, the same one he’d worn when they were together. It brought back memories of frustration and sadness, feeling low and uncontrollably angry. And then, bitterly disappointed. ‘Sorry, I’m just surprised, that’s all. I wasn’t sure it was you.’

He pulled her chair out for her and she sank into it with a murmured thanks. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’ he asked, sitting down across from her. ‘And who else would be doing all this for you? Have you got a boyfriend or admirer I should know about?’

Surprise number two, he hadn’t pulled a chair out for her in a long time. It was like he’d started forgetting his manners the last year or so they’d been together. But maybe that was as much her fault as his. She should have called him on it.

The waiter appeared next to them, handing them white and gold embossed cocktail menus. Frankie took hers with a smile, noticing that Christian uncharacte‌ristically did the same. ‘No admirer or boyfriend,’ she smiled coolly, ‘but I was told a young boy delivered the envelope to the dealership, and a woman booked the personal shopper at Harvey Nicks. The sizing of the dress was spot on too.’

‘I called in a few favours,’ he lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug, running a finger down the menu. ‘Let’s get a drink before we talk more.’