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- Herausgeber: BookRix
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
The daughter of a Russian oligarch, living a jet set life on the French Riviera, finds her world turned upside down when her father's wealth slips away.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016
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The White Yacht
Disclaimer: “All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All and boats/ships appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real boats/ships, is purely coincidental.” BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 MunichThe White Yacht
Cover picture: Sveta and her friend Natasha in the good times before the financial crisis.
Monaco 2010
Sveta on the mobile to her sister Yana
Yana; “Looks like Dad lost.”
Sveta; “How do you mean?”
Yana; “The case, he lost, it’s going to cost a lot.”
Sveta; “So, there’s plenty more.”
Yana; “No there’s not. Haven’t you been listening these past few weeks? Dada’s broke. He put so much into this case.”
Sveta; “What, so we’re broke too?”
Yana; “Well maybe. He said he’d give me the house.”
Sveta; “What?”
Yana; “And you the White Yacht.”
Sveta; “You’re kidding.”
Yana; “No, some time ago he made it over to you.”
Sveta; “But what about our pocket money, and our schools?”
Yana; “I think, finish.”
Sveta; “Really?”
Yana; “Yeah, even the hairdressers.”
Sveta; “What Aldigos?”
Yana; “Yeah, finito.”
Sveta; “But you’ve got Hakim.”
Yana; “Yeah, he’s loaded so I’ll be ok.”
Sveta; “But what about me?”
Yana; “Find one of those rich guys pronto before you’re too old.”
Sveta; “But I’m only 17.”
Yana; “In the Middle East they marry them off at ten.”
Sveta; “Sure, and keep them locked up in some palace.”
Yana; “Dad said he’s taking you on one last trip – on the White Yacht.”
Sveta; “When?”
Yana: “When he gets back from London tomorrow. Gotta go; meeting Hakim. Privets.”
Sveta; “Privets.”
Sveta sank back on the king size bed. Yana was going to get that Belgravia house! 12 double rooms, period features, a large garden, basement parking.
She remembered when mum and Dad had found it. They were together back then. She had been five and it was a wonder scrambling up the stairs exploring. And the bathrooms, they were everywhere; gold taps, walk in showers and for her, a playroom with dolls’ houses and a swing in the garden.
It was the May Day holiday so no school today. A break in the routine.
On a usual day the chauffeur, Pierre, would drop her at the Lycee Russe, for children of exiled Russians in Monaco. Here once aristocrats who could afford it had put their children to school; now it was for the children of oligarchs like her Dad.
Yana was her older sister, now fully nineteen and heading for a marriage with Hakim, son of that fat Egyptian banker Yousef.
Sveta did not like fat; she craved a slimness in herself that was unhealthy. Her Philipino maid was always trying to force her to eat something at breakfast. She took out her diary. She had lost 1 kilo since February.
That had been hard. When the biting Mediterranean winter winds called to her to go for soup or blini just like mama had made.
Mama, now an absent presence.
Sveta looked at her dressing table. There they stood all of them, mama included, with the ever present glass in her hand.
She had fallen off a jetty in the harbour after a riotous party. All had been too drunk to save her. At least, said sarcastic aunt, the death certificate said “drowned in water,” not alcohol.
Today she had intended go to the beauty parlour.
Was this all really true that Dad was broke and the account at Aldigos was closed? She rang them.
“Bonjour.”
“It’s Sveta Krusnovsky here, I’d like to make an appointment.”
“One moment”
“Miss Krusnovsky, I am afraid the family account has been closed both here and in London. I am truly sorry.”
The girl did seem sorry, truly. Not being able to do one’s hair was a great blow to any woman and then also, the Krusnovsky’s had tipped well.
Sveta sank back again.
Starriness the Philipino maid bustled in. “Your father phoned and said to get you ready for the boat.”
“Did he?”
“Yes, and he gave me a list.”
Dada, this was his signature, always lists.
“Now,” said Starriness, “where are your bathing outfits?”
“Middle drawer.”
“And your wet suits and snorkeling gear?”
“In the second garage.”
“He says you will need sensible shoes, for the deck, not those killer heels."
