Not a photo this time although there were several taken at the previous evening’s event, the whole page being devoted to the occasion. But there she was in the third paragraph. Communications magnate Marcus Delacroix seemed to enjoy the evening in the company of his new squeeze, Ms Lucy Weston. Daughter of renowned photographer Kit Weston, Lucy, a silversmith, is recently returned from France where she has been living with a Gallic lover for the past year which, I’m given to understand, is as long as she stays with any partner. Perhaps a multimillionaire will be able to hold her interest longer. At twenty-eight Ms Weston is twenty-four years Delacroix’s junior, Helena his late wife was eighteen years his senior. Obviously a man of extremes. Lucy read the lines again and again. She was troubled. How did he know those things about her? And was she imagining it or was the tone a little less than friendly? ~ The red Porsche pulled into its usual place in Grayling’s driveway.
