Page 156 of Kiss Heaven Goodbye

It was just like Olivia to start getting ammunition from Grace’s partner.

‘I don’t care what Julian says. He is not your mother.’

Olivia glanced critically at her. ‘It’s only because you needed a chaperone at my age.’

Grace gasped. ‘Do not talk to me like—’ she began, but she was interrupted by her assistant, Tim.

‘Sorry, Grace,’ he said. ‘Catrina wants you. She wants to know which shot you’re planning on doing next so she can style the models.’

‘I’ll come inside.’ She sighed, watching Olivia run back to the croquet lawn where she slipped her hand around Lord Freddie’s waist, whispering something in his ear. Not for the first time, she wished that her daughter wasn’t away at boarding school. If she had lost touch with Olivia’s interests, she certainly had no idea of her social life. Was she dating Freddie? Grace was realistic enough to know that if her daughter wanted to horse around with boys, or smoke – or even do drugs, she thought with a grimace – nothing could stop her, but she wished she had a better relationship with Olivia, wished her daughter wanted to confide in her.

Perhaps it’s my fault, she thought as she walked towards the house. Three months ago, Gabriel had announced that he was remarrying, which had upset Joseph but hadn’t seemed to bother Olivia. Maybe this rebellion was her way of showing her hurt. Or maybe it was more than that. Olivia was beautiful, charming and bright, but she also had a lazy, expectant streak and a nose for trouble. The real truth was that she was starting to remind Grace of Miles.

The manor’s library had been turned into a makeshift dressing room. Catrina, the magazine’s fashion editor, was fighting her way through a long rail of designer clothes. Grace was going through the next set-up with her, which was to be the rock twins running through the orchard in long sundresses, when they heard an insistent beeping coming from a pile of coats and bags flung on a chaise longue.

‘Where is that bloody noise coming from?’ said Catrina. ‘It’s been beeping for the last ten minutes and it’s driving me crazy.’

Tim rummaged through the pile and lifted up a brown Mulberry satchel that Grace immediately recognised as Olivia’s.

‘That’s my daughter’s,’ said Grace. ‘I’ll take it to her.’

The satchel was heavy, weighed down with shoes, magazines and make-up.

No need to take the whole bag out, she thought, stopping in the hallway and rummaging through it looking for the phone. Then her fingers touched something and she stopped, holding her breath. It was a thin metallic strip of tablets. It was the pill. Looking up, she could hear footsteps.

‘I need a drink,’ said Olivia, running into the house.

Grace stood up. ‘Olivia, can I talk to you for one moment?’

‘Later, Mum,’ she said, trying to dodge around her. ‘Me and Freddie want a Pepsi.’

‘Now,’ said Grace, taking her by the arm and leading her into an empty study. It was a formal space with a walnut writing desk and a captain chair that made Grace feel like a Victorian father.

‘I found these in your bag,’ she said simply, handing her daughter the strip of pills.

Olivia’s green eyes blazed at her. ‘What the hell were you doing going through my bag?’

‘That’s beside the point. I asked you what you’re doing on the pill, Olivia.’

‘I’ve only just got them,’ she said sulkily.

‘How? Why?’ Grace asked, shaking with anger. ‘You’re fourteen years old, you’re still a child.’

Olivia did not look like a child, standing six feet tall in her wedges, her hands on her hips.

‘I’m not a child!’ she spat. ‘It’s about time you realised that, Mother. Freddie and I are having sex and you can’t stop us,’ she added with a note of malice.

Grace quivered with anger, but she knew she wouldn’t get anywhere with Olivia by shouting. God knows she’d tried often enough.

‘I just think you’re too young, darling,’ she said in a softer tone.

‘Too young for modelling, too young for sex,’ said Olivia sarcastically.

‘You need to be responsible . . .’

‘Ha!’ said Olivia. ‘Take a look in the mirror, Mum. Maybe you should have been a bit more responsible yourself.’

Grace gasped at her daughter’s insolence. ‘What do you mean by that?’