I dig my nails into the fabric of the brocade sofa, scratching for a thread to unravel. ‘Polly and I are like sisters!’
‘You weren’t thinking of your sister when you were cavorting with her boyfriend in Venice, though, were you?’ Margot runs her long pink tongue across her lips and stands up, but she moves towards Gustav, not me. ‘The heavens were smiling on my scheme, as they always do!’
Gustav shakes his head slowly. It’s as if she’s injected him with tranquilliser so that he can barely move, even when she steps closer.
‘Listen to yourself. My scheme. You’re the one who’s lying. Every word that comes out of your mouth—’
‘Turns you on. Don’t deny it. You’re getting hard now, seeing me again. I’m willing to bet your entire fortune, Gusty, that I could make you come, right here, right now, within seconds. I practised endlessly on your little brother. All I had to do was crook my finger. He was in my panties as soon as you could say “boner”. But it was only ever about you. Getting you to notice me again. Admit it. You’re horny as hell just hearing my voice, Gusty. You’re remembering how good we were together.’
Gustav shakes his head. ‘I’m wondering what I ever saw in you. It’s gone. That sexiness. That exotic beauty. Even the fact that you were older than me added lustre to it all. There was something transgressive about that, too. The naughty nanny. I’m sorry, Serena. This isn’t supposed to hurt you. It’s supposed to prove how deluded this woman is, because look at her now! And in Pierre’s case you were old enough to be the wicked stepmother. No wonder he doesn’t want you any more. Where’s all that lustre? You look – shrunken.’ He lifts one of the candlesticks and rubs it thoughtfully under his mouth as he holds her gaze. ‘As if someone’s let all the blood out of you.’
‘Blood flows thick and fast in these veins, I assure you, Gusty. Like the waters of the Nile. Once tasted, you’ll always come back. And you were always coming back for more. Right up until that last night when you told me it was over, but still you couldn’t help yourself. I could reduce you to a whimpering heap with a huge erection just by arching an eyebrow.’ She sniggers. ‘I’m doing it now.’
With a stage conjuror’s flick of the wrist, she reaches down beside the fireplace where there’s a stack of pokers, and whisks out a long white plaited whip like something the Snow Queen of Narnia might use to speed on her reindeer. She runs the handle of the whip across her mouth in an echo of what he’s doing with the candlestick. Then she licks it.
‘You’re my whimpering heap.’ She runs the flicking end of the whip down Gustav’s stomach, down his fly, tickles it between his legs. Then she fans her hand out and grabs him there. ‘And here in your trousers, this is my huge erection.’
They stand stock-still. She has possession of him. He is staring at her as if someone has carved them both out of ice.
But I’m not made of ice. I’m burning hot with rage. ‘Gustav! Stop it! Why are you looking at her like that? Get away from her!’
‘I’m just searching for whatever captivated me all those years ago. You really were the archetypal temptress, Margot.’ Gustav’s eyes rake over his ex-wife’s face almost tenderly as he gropes for the words. ‘You came straight out of all the best and worst of fairy tales.’
Margot’s mouth lifts expectantly. Her fingers curl round the now visible bulge in his trousers and start to squeeze. ‘And now?’
‘Ephemera. Ether. Emptiness.’ He spits into the fire and makes it flare angrily. ‘Time has been very cruel to you, Margot. You’re not even the wicked witch.’
And as she opens her mouth to reply, he hurls the candlestick into the grate. It seems to tumble in slow motion before smashing against the marble hearth, lethal black fragments flying into the fireplace and out into the room.
‘This is a waste of time,’ he growls. He encircles her wrist with his long fingers, his knuckles bone-white as he squeezes. Then he drops her hand and steps away to the other end of the fireplace. ‘We’ll get more sense out of Pierre.’
Margot tucks the whip under her arm as if he’s no more harm to her than a fly. She flips open a carved wooden box on the mantelpiece and pulls out a long black cigarette, places it between her lips, lights it. When she blows smoke in his face, he doesn’t flinch.
‘You’re right about one thing, Gusty. All that crap about blood being thicker than water. He was so happy to be seeing you again. Genuinely able to forget all the angst between you. Where he went wrong is when he fell in love. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Love spoils everything. He was only supposed to get her out of the picture.’
At last Gustav tears his eyes away from her and they both look at me. There’s a distance in his eyes that’s opening up a gulf between us again. I have to say something to bring him back to me. I seem to take in a lungful of the pungent, aromatic smoke from Margot’s cigarette as I speak. ‘Pierre’s not capable of loving anyone.’
‘So you say. But you’re a bit of a sprite yourself, aren’t you?’ Margot blows a couple of smoke rings at me. ‘You sense things before they’re real. You saw me dancing at the theatre in Gramercy Park. And then you saw me at the Weinmeyers’ ball.’
‘Serena?’ Gustav’s eyes glitter. ‘You never breathed a word!’
Spots start dancing in front of my eyes. Every time Venice is mentioned we come a step closer to the exact details of what happened, or nearly happened, with Pierre.
I slide over the arm of the sofa to land in the deep seat. I feel dizzy. Actually, I feel stoned.
‘I couldn’t be sure it was her. Everyone was whirling around in strange costumes and masks. At the theatre, and at the ball. I just told myself I was obsessing.’
‘Not quite the whole picture, though, is it, sweetie? Lots of things you haven’t confessed. You obviously didn’t pass on my loving video message, for instance, even though it was intended for my husband?’ Margot blows out another thin plume of smoke and winks at me. ‘I would love to be a fly on the wall when you eventually have that particular interrogation!’
‘How has this conversation started revolving around Serena?’ Gustav pushes Margot back down on to her armchair, as if by making her sit he can somehow reduce her power. He pushes his face into hers. ‘She’s already told me what happened in Venice. Pierre tricked her into thinking he was me. And that’s precisely why we’re looking for him!’
‘He’s good at hiding, especially when he’s licking his wounds. He’ll be frustrated, and furious, and you know how dangerous that can be! But what he did in Venice was all his own idea. Any damage that causes in the future is out of my hands. He rushed in where fools fear to tread. As for me, I was just monitoring his wild goose chase so I could choose my own moment to strike. Call it surveillance, since we’re talking campaigns. And you’ll be needing me more after this, Gustav. Much more. That feather was far too subtle a message, but I was only trying to help.’ Margot pouts her swollen lips. ‘You had to know. He’s in love with your girlfriend.’
The smoke, or maybe it’s just the haze of words, is making me increasingly faint. Margot’s gaze has barely left Gustav’s face since we all came into this room. Jealousy coils unpleasantly inside me. She’s hungry for him, as I would be. She’s been starved.
‘And who can blame him?’ Gustav murmurs, so quietly I’m not sure I’ve heard correctly. ‘I would go mad if I couldn’t have her.’
‘That’s just it. He has had her. Every inch.’
Margot runs her fingertips delicately over the red dents left on the white skin of her wrists and smiles. Is that some kind of coded message? Is that how it used to be between them? Or is she just relishing the pain he inflicted on her? This is a woman after all who relishes pain in all its sexual darkness. It’s her speciality. Her trade.
I