Love You Better (7 page)

8.

Y
ou look stunning,’ Oliver said, standing behind Effie with his arms wrapped around her waist. ‘I say we stay here instead.’

‘Stop it.’ She laughed and wriggled out of his arms as she put her earring in.

He ran a hand through his hair before straightening his tie. ‘You can hardly blame me. You look good enough to eat. In fact,
I m
ay well do that later.’

Effie smiled and checked her reflection. She was dressed to the nines for Izzy’s New Year’s Eve party. Oliver had insisted they buy new outfits and treated her to a day out on King’s Road. They’d wandered in and out of shops, and she’d been overwhelmed by the expense of it all. She’d actually seen a pair of socks for seventy pounds.
Socks.
It was mental. She loved beautiful clothes as much as the next girl, but she’d never dream of dropping seventy quid on a pair of socks. She’d eventually settled on a black Biba shift dress. She’d wanted the one with the embellished collar, but Oliver had told her it might look too over the top.

‘If you’re going to insist we go, we need to go now – otherwise, we’ll be late,’ Oliver said, and she gave herself a quick squirt of Christian Dior.

‘I’m ready.’

He hooked an arm around her waist and dropped a kiss onto her shoulder. ‘Have I told you how much I love you lately?’

She smiled. He had. Over and over again. And she could never get tired of hearing it.

A couple of hours later, Effie and Oliver sat in their new BMW, crawling down the private country lane to Izzy and Tom’s house. Or was it a mansion? Nestled in the Surrey countryside, their detached, five-bedroom house sat in ten acres of ancient woodland. The smell of damp leaves wafted through the open window of the car, mixing with the comforting smell of new leather. Oliver had pushed the new BMW’s engine as hard as he could legally get away with, and sometimes more. Effie had settled back into the heated seats and had to mentally congratulate him on his need for
impeccability
. The car suited him. It was sophisticated, understated, sleek
and expensiv
e.

As they passed the trees strung up with lanterns and the elegant copper torches lining both sides of the lane, she glanced over at Oliver. He looked handsome in a crisp white shirt and blue chinos, and a rush of love hit her.

‘What?’ he asked warily, looking back at her. ‘Are you okay?’

She nodded and beamed a smile. ‘Yep. Better than okay.’

Things were perfect. She was sitting in a fabulous car, next to her handsome husband, on their way to a glamorous party. This was living. This was her life. She thought back to life with Smith, so full of uncertainty and doubt, never quite knowing where she stood. When he said that their ‘relationship’ had worked, he’d
been so
wrong it was laughable, and Effie couldn’t do anything other
than
laugh at the way she’d reacted to seeing him again. Thank god, her mind was stronger than her body. Now that she had Oliver, she never needed to have an uncertain day again. He loved her, plain and simple.

Effie looked at the house coming into view around the gentle curve of the lane, until Oliver killed the purring engine and parked up among the Mercedes, Audis and a couple of Aston Martins. They stepped out of the car, and Effie looked up at Sky House, the three-storey, forty-eight-hundred-square-foot property that Izzy and Tom called home. On the ground level, the floor-to-ceiling glass doors were folded all the way open, allowing the chilled house music, tinkles of laughter and buzz of conversation to float outside. Its sleek lines, timber exterior walls and two floors of wrap-around windows were wedged into a slope, and it sat under a canopy of oak and birch trees. The lights from the house spilled out, dappling the woodland floor in an orange glow.

‘I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing this place. It’s beautiful,’ Effie said.

‘I know. I’d have loved to design something like this.’

She looked at him. ‘You still regret not being an architect, d
on’t you
?’

‘Sometimes.’ He shrugged. ‘But law is the family business. Sometimes, life means making compromises.’ He took her hand, and they ascended the huge slabs of slate serving as stairs. Effie could only nod. She didn’t feel like she’d had to compromise
anything
being with him.

‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘it’s nice, but there’s no point having a place like this in the city. A house like this needs to breathe.’

‘Do houses breathe?’

‘This one does.’ He grinned, and as if to prove his point, a gust of wind blew behind them, almost ushering them into the house.

How many people had turned up? A hundred, maybe? On the ground floor alone, the entire open space was packed with people lounging on oversized, charcoal-grey sofas, sitting on the stairs or talking in groups. An impeccably dressed waiter offered champagne from a silver tray, and Effie took one, grateful for something to hold. She never knew what to do with her hands in situations like this and usually reverted to picking at her nails. As lovely as Izzy and Tom were, they could be intimidating, and from what she’d seen so far, the same could be said for their friends. She could have sworn that was Jude Law over by the kitchen, but she couldn’t see past the redhead in front of him, and she refused to gawp like a fangirl.

‘I fancy a Scotch,’ Oliver said. ‘I’ll be back in a tick.’

Effie frowned as he left her standing in the middle of the
living
room, looking for a familiar face and failing to find one. She watched the waiters offering delicious-looking canapés, before
taking
one and almost melting as the smooth goat’s cheese blended with roasted peppers in her mouth. Izzy and Tom really knew how to throw a party – good music, tasty nibbles and a seemingly
endless
supply of alcohol. Not to mention a perfect house. Everything about it oozed money and class, from the undoubtedly original paintings and hand-woven Tibetan rugs hanging on the walls to the shiny black Steinway in the corner of the living room.

She looked around again, waiting for Oliver to come back, but it was pointless. He’d probably got talking to someone somewhere, and his mind would only be on one thing: work. She sipped at her champagne, resisting the urge to wilt away into the background, and slowly walked through the living room towards the terrace, then stepped outside.

‘Effie, darling. I’m so glad you’re here.’ Izzy’s voice floated down from the terrace above, and Effie looked up to see her leaning over the rail, her blonde hair fanning around her face like a golden halo. ‘Don’t move – I’ll be there in a flash.’

Izzy made her way down the stairs at the side of the house, her long purple dress swishing around her legs and her hair scooped around one bare shoulder. With a large, gold statement necklace and armband, she wouldn’t have looked out of place on a red carpet somewhere. Izzy hugged her, releasing her floral perfume.

‘Thank god you’re here. I was beginning to think I’d have to spend all night with Tom’s one-dimensional friends. Complete and utter bores. Drink?’

‘Got one,’ Effie replied, holding up her champagne. ‘Where
is he
?’

‘Upstairs, talking shop, as usual. Honestly, you’d think he could give it a rest for just one night.’

Tom did something inexplicable in The City, something that Effie understood involved moving lots of money around for lots of obscenely wealthy people.

‘When did you get back from your dad’s?’

‘Boxing Day.’ Izzy hooked her arm through Effie’s and led her through the crowd. ‘It was intolerable. Daddy was positively morose because you and Olly didn’t come, and Anna was – well, Anna.’

Izzy shuddered, and Effie frowned as they sat in two chairs, tucked away in the corner of the terrace. ‘But I thought you
liked her?
’

‘I can’t stand her,’ Izzy said with a giggle.

‘You seemed really friendly at the wedding.’

‘Well, of course. It was your wedding, and I suppose I try to be civil for Daddy’s sake. I might not like her, but for some
inexplicable
reason, she genuinely seems to make him happy. And that makes me happy.’

‘Except he wasn’t happy at Christmas?’ Effie asked. ‘Why did he think Olly would want to go round? I mean, this has been going on for ages, right?’

Izzy sighed, lounging back in her chair and hanging her arm over the back. ‘Since forever. They used to be super close but when Mum caught him with Anna, Olly refused to speak to him, and he barely has ever since.’

‘Your mum
caught
them?’

‘In flagrante, no less. There’d been rumours, of course. Daddy worked in London five days a week and came home at the weekends. He’d had Anna shacked up in a town house for five years.’

Effie tried not to let her jaw hang open. She knew about Giles’s affair, but
five years
? Oliver hadn’t told her that.

‘And Rosie and Henry?’

‘They were three when it all came out. Olly was fifteen, and I’d just left for uni. He went off the rails for a while, and in the end he started boarding at weekends. Can you imagine rather being at school than at home?’

‘He never told me,’ Effie said, feeling a twinge of guilt in her chest for trying to push him to talk about it. If she’d known, she’d have kept quiet. Poor Oliver.

‘Do you think it’ll ever go back to how it was with your dad?’

‘I don’t know. I hope so.’ Izzy crossed her legs. ‘Maybe Olly will change his perspective on things. He seems a lot less highly-strung since you two got together. Admittedly, there were a few raised
eyebrows
about you at first. You’re so very different from the girls Olly used to date.’

Effie’s cheeks burned, and she drained her champagne, frowning into the glass.

‘I had a feeling I wasn’t exactly Barton-Cole standard,’ she
muttered
.

‘Don’t be silly – of
course
you are. I didn’t mean for it to sound bad. If anything, it’s a compliment. The girls Olly used to date were all airheads, each one more vacant than the last. He’d say “Jump”, and they’d practically pole vault. You’re different. And you’re good for him.’

Was she? Judging by his mood in the lead-up to Christmas and his reaction to Effie’s suggestion that he patch things up with his dad, it didn’t seem like it. And Izzy’s endorsement didn’t sound like much of a compliment either.

‘Honestly, Effie, I didn’t mean anything bad by it. Who cares what other people think anyway? We all think you’re fabulous.’

‘Well, of course she is, that’s why I married her,’ Oliver said, slipping into the chair next to Effie. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing. We’re just catching up,’ Izzy said. ‘Where have you been? Charming bees?’

‘As always,’ he replied and quickly rubbed the end of his nose.

‘Liar, liar,’ Izzy said. ‘You’ve done a line.’

Oliver shrugged. ‘It’s a party. You not doing any?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Izzy’s the sensible one,’ Oliver said, and Izzy tinkled a laugh.

Effie looked at them both as they caught up. She was suddenly disturbed. Just how well did she really know her husband? He’d never told her he did coke, and given his job, she’d have thought
he’d be
diametrically opposed to it. He’d pressed her to quit
smoking
, yet here he was, getting high on coke, with his jaw twitching away as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

When Izzy got up, she kissed Effie on the cheek and left,
leaving
Effie and Oliver alone.

‘How are you, baby? Are you having a nice time?’ Oliver asked.

Effie hesitated. ‘I didn’t realise you did coke.’

‘It’s New Year’s Eve, baby. It only happens once a year.’ He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. ‘Don’t make a big deal out of it.’

It might only be once a year, but she’d thought she’d never see a drug stronger than paracetamol in her life again after Smith left. Oliver was so
together
. Not being involved in drugs was part of his appeal.

‘No, I wasn’t. I just . . .’ She shook her head, fighting the
disappointment
settling over her. ‘Never mind.’

She didn’t want to push the issue. He was a responsible adult, and really, it was only once a year, like he said. She leaned back in her chair and looked around at the other guests. If Oliver had taken some cocaine, it was fairly likely that others had too. The guests were all professionals, with high-powered jobs. It wasn’t like it had been with Smith, surrounded by DJs and PR people. Maybe this was how things worked in the Barton-Cole world.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and Effie smiled back, ignoring his dilated pupils. Drugs weren’t a part of Oliver’s life the way they had been a part of Smith’s. It was a compromise she was willing to make.