Madeleine Wickham - The Gatecrasher

Praise for the bestselling novels of
MADELEINE WICKHAM

Cocktails for Three

Deliciously funny... witty and wicked.

Kirkus Reviews

Wickham serves up a healthy dose of good-natured witticisms mixed with biting retorts.

Publishers Weekly

Wickham writes a witty tale that goes beyond mere gossip, fashion, and fun; she provides a wickedly insightful look at the choices women make between career, children, and relationships.

Booklist

Sleeping Arrangements

Wickham spins a delightful story... [She] does a bang-up job of creating believable characters... Surprises abound as the plot unfolds.

Publishers Weekly

Sure to please her many fans and gain her new ones.

Booklist

A rare breed of beach read thats breezy but doesnt wriggle out of difficult adult choices.

Entertainment Weekly

The Wedding Girl

Kinsella fans will feel right at home... At this Wedding, prepare to laugh, and maybe get a little misty.

USA Today

A brides impetuous past comes back to haunt her in this yummy confection by Wickham.

People magazine

What fans want!

Star magazine

ALSO BY MADELEINE WICKHAM

The Tennis Party

A Desirable Residence

Swimming Pool Sunday

The Wedding Girl

Cocktails for Three

MADELEINE WICKHAM

St. Martins Paperbacks

NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this stripped book.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

First published in Great Britain by Black Swan, a division of Transworld Publishers

THE GATECRASHER

Copyright 1998 by Madeleine Wickham.

Excerpt from The Wedding Girl copyright 2009 by Madeleine Wickham.

Excerpt from Sleeping Arrangements copyright 2008 by Madeleine Wickham.

Excerpt from Cocktails for Three copyright 2001 by Madeleine Wickham.

All rights reserved.

For information address St. Martins Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 99089869

ISBN: 978-0-312-36608-7

Printed in the United States of America

St. Martins Press hardcover edition / July 2007

St. Martins Griffin trade paperback edition / May 2008

St. Martins Paperbacks edition / January 2010

St. Martins Paperbacks are published by St. Martins Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

For Freddy

Fleur Daxeny wrinkled her nose. She bit her lip, and put her head on one side, and gazed at her reflection silently for a few seconds. Then she gave a gurgle of laughter.

I still cant decide, she exclaimed. Theyre all fabulous.

The saleswoman from Take Hat! exchanged weary glances with the nervous young hairdresser sitting on a gilt stool in the corner. The hairdresser had arrived at Fleurs hotel suite half an hour ago and had been waiting to start ever since. The saleswoman was meanwhile beginning to wonder whether she was wasting her time completely.

I love this one with the veil, said Fleur suddenly, reaching for a tiny creation of black satin and wispy netting. Isnt it elegant?

Very elegant, said the saleswoman. She hurried forward just in time to catch a black silk topper which Fleur was discarding onto the floor.

Very, echoed the hairdresser in the corner. Surreptitiously he glanced at his watch. He was supposed to be back down in the salon in forty minutes. Trevor wouldnt be pleased. Perhaps he should phone down to explain the situation. Perhaps...

All right! said Fleur. Ive decided. She pushed up the veil and beamed around the room. Im going to wear this one today.

A very wise choice, madam, said the saleswoman in relieved tones. Its a lovely hat.

Lovely, whispered the hairdresser.

So if you could just pack the other five into boxes for me... Fleur smiled mysteriously at her reflection and pulled the dark silk gauze down over her face again. The woman from Take Hat! gaped at her.

Youre going to buy them all?

Of course I am. I simply cant choose between them. Theyre all too perfect. Fleur turned to the hairdresser. Now, my sweet. Can you come up with something special for my hair which will go under this hat? The young man stared back at her and felt a dark pink colour begin to rise up his neck.

Oh. Yes. I should think so. I mean... But Fleur had already turned away.

If you could just put it all onto my hotel bill, she was saying to the saleswoman. Thats all right, isnt it?

Perfectly all right, madam, said the saleswoman eagerly. As a guest of the hotel, youre entitled to a fifteen per cent concession on all our prices.

Whatever, said Fleur. She gave a little yawn. As long as it can all go on the bill.

Ill go and sort it out for you straight away.

Good, said Fleur. As the saleswoman hurried out of the room, she turned and gave the young hairdresser a ravishing smile. Im all yours.

Her voice was low and melodious and curiously accentless. To the hairdressers ears it was now also faintly mocking, and he flushed slightly as he came over to where Fleur was sitting. He stood behind her, gathered together the ends of her hair in one hand and let them fall down in a heavy, red-gold movement.

Your hairs in very good condition, he said awkwardly.

Isnt it lovely? said Fleur complacently. Ive always had good hair. And good skin, of course. She tilted her head, pushed her hotel robe aside slightly, and rubbed her cheek tenderly against the pale, creamy skin of her shoulder. How old would you say I was? she added abruptly.

I dont... I wouldnt... the young man began to flounder.

Im forty, she said lazily. She closed her eyes. Forty, she repeated, as though meditating. It makes you think, doesnt it?

You dont look... began the hairdresser in awkward politeness. Fleur opened one glinting, pussycat-green eye.

I dont look forty? How old do I look, then?

The hairdresser stared back at her uncomfortably. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. The truth was, he thought suddenly, that this incredible woman didnt look any age. She seemed ageless, classless, indefinable. As he met her eyes he felt a thrill run through him; a dart-like conviction that this moment was somehow significant. His hands trembling slightly, he reached for her hair and let it run like slippery flames through his fingers.

You look as old as you look, he whispered huskily. Numbers dont come into it.

Sweet, said Fleur dismissively. Now, my pet, before you start on my hair, how about ordering me a nice glass of champagne?

The hairdressers fingers drooped in slight disappointment, and he went obediently over to the telephone. As he dialled, the door opened and the woman from Take Hat! came back in, carrying a pile of hat boxes. Here we are, she exclaimed breathlessly. If you could just sign here...

A glass of champagne, please, the hairdresser was saying. Room 301.

I was wondering, began the saleswoman cautiously to Fleur. Youre quite sure that you want all six hats in black? We do have some other super colours this season. She tapped her teeth thoughtfully. Theres a lovely emerald green which would look stunning with your hair...