‘I don’t remember the leathers,’ she said in the flirtatious voice he recalled from the past. It had sent a thrill through him then, and it was no different now.
‘I didn’t have the Harley then.’ Fifteen years ago he’d been a sergeant. That was no reason not to have a Harley, but he’d been in a rare car phase, which had lasted several years of his marriage to Catherine, until he’d seen the light and annoyed Catherine by selling his car and purchasing the Harley. Catherine had never liked motorbikes and had refused to go on it. She’d also forbidden him to take Emma on it. An order he hoped to disobey in the years ahead.
‘You’re looking good,’ he said.
‘Only good!’
‘Great then.’ He smiled and let his eyes travel to her left hand. The diamond of her engagement ring was big enough to attract a short-sighted thug from fifty yards. And her diamond and ruby encrusted watch would keep Portsmouth Council in funds for a year.
‘It’s OK, I’ve got protection,’ she said, reading his thoughts.
Horton followed her glance to the adjoining table where he saw the man with broad shoulders he’d seen on the deck of the superyacht earlier, and whom Walters had nicknamed Schwarzenegger. How could he have missed those massive shoulders, matching muscles and close-cropped blond hair? Easy: he’d been ogling Avril Glenn. Wearing a black leather bomber jacket over a dark T-shirt and sipping mineral water, Lloyd looked as out of place as a miner at a lighting convention.
‘Who’s protecting your husband?’
‘His security system.’
‘Then I hope all his alarms go off at once.’ She smiled as Horton added, ‘Will your chaperone let me buy you a drink?’
‘His name’s Lloyd, that’s his first name. Lloyd Durham, as in the city, but he’s from Reading.’
‘Not half so nice, though generally warmer.’ And Horton was wishing Lloyd was at either place right now, or on that small cruise liner on the pontoon.
‘Vodka and tonic, please. You don’t have to buy Lloyd a drink.’
Good, because he wasn’t offering. ‘Won’t Mr Glenn mind you being here?’ he asked. He was fishing and she knew he was.
‘Russell is working.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Trying to buy Portsmouth Football Club.’
‘You’re kidding!’
‘Yes, though I have been doing my best to persuade him. It might work yet.’
And with Avril doing the persuading, Horton wondered how Glenn could possibly refuse.
Horton went to the bar, nodding at Lloyd on his way and getting a nod in return. While he waited to be served he staved off his disappointment at not seeing Avril alone by wondering about Lloyd’s background. Ex-job? Walters would have said if he were, though knowing Walters he probably hadn’t asked. Ex-services perhaps, he looked fit enough for the marines or commandos. At least Glenn took protecting his wife seriously. Too seriously, he wondered briefly? No. Not if she went around wearing that kind of jewellery. And that made him even more concerned about Friday evening’s reception. If Avril touted that stuff as everyday wear then what the devil would be on show on Friday night?
He returned with her vodka and tonic and a Diet Coke for himself. Taking the glass in her beautifully manicured hand, she managed to brush her fingers against his. His heart stalled and for a moment he wondered if it would restart.
‘I heard DC Walters mention you to Lloyd this afternoon and I was curious to see if you remembered me.’
‘How could I forget?’ But he had.
‘It was a long time ago. You haven’t changed much.’
‘Neither have you.’
‘God, don’t tell me I’ve wasted all this money on expensive beauty treatments.’
‘Didn’t need it and still don’t,’ Horton said gallantly, enjoying himself. He made sure to angle his body so that he couldn’t see Lloyd.
She said, ‘You know I’m married but how about you? Married, engaged, divorced?’
‘About to be divorced and living on a boat, like you, but mine’s a permanent home, and a row boat compared to your palace. It’s in Southsea Marina. My marriage broke up last August. One child, Emma, nearly nine years old and beautiful.’
‘Of course, with a dad like you. We don’t have kids, never seemed to happen and I wasn’t that fussed anyway.’
‘There’s still time.’
‘No fear. Well, that’s got that out of the way. What shall we talk about now?’
Horton wanted to know why she wanted to see him, but instead asked, ‘How did you meet Russell?’
‘He was staying in the hotel where I was working in the south of France. He asked me to work for him as his PA eight years ago and things progressed from there.’
Horton recalled that he’d met Avril when she’d been working as a receptionist in a local hotel, much like Hannah Yately he thought briefly, with a twinge of guilt that he’d postponed visiting her father’s apartment. But one night wasn’t going to make any difference when Yately was in the mortuary. But what if he wasn’t? He should have checked or at least got the local police to check. He shifted and brought his mind back to when he and Avril had met. There had been a spate of thefts in the hotel where Avril was working. After a four month relationship Avril had called it quits by telling him she was going abroad to work.
‘And you’re happy?’ he said.
‘Who wouldn’t be?’ Her eyes slipped towards the boat.
It was an answer but not the right one, he thought. But then maybe for Avril it was, and she had got everything she’d ever needed and wanted. He recalled that she’d had it tough as a child, like him. But with her it had been a case of a drunken father who had pissed away most of his dole money for most of his life and had lived off his wife’s earnings as a waitress. Avril had been left to her own devices as a child and hadn’t received much education, but she’d worked hard, been bright, and, he recalled, ambitious and anxious to escape Portsmouth. Well, she’d certainly achieved that and now she’d returned in style. And perhaps that was the real reason why she wanted to see him, to demonstrate to someone who remembered her how well she’d done for herself, and how far she’d travelled from the poor working-class girl she’d been. But perhaps more importantly to show herself how far she’d come.
She eyed him steadily, twirling the glass in her slender hands. ‘I suppose you think I’m showing off,’ she said, reading his thoughts with uncanny accuracy that made him wonder if he was beginning to let his guard down too much. Adrian Stanley had seen through him this morning but then Stanley was ex-job, Horton reasoned. Maybe it applied to an ex-lover too.
‘I guess I am in a way, but only to myself.’ She gave a brief smile before the serious expression returned. ‘I’m not here to rub anyone’s noses in it because there’s no one’s nose left to rub. Dad died a year after I left to work abroad and Mum three years after that. There’s no one I care to remember in Portsmouth, except you, and I don’t need to show off to you. No, I’m here for several reasons and one is because the yacht was built in Southampton and launched from there last Friday, and we had to pick up three new crew members from the Superyacht Training Academy here in Portsmouth at the weekend.’
Horton hoped they’d been thoroughly vetted, along with the rest of the crew. There was always a possibility of a job being organized or coordinated from the inside.
‘Do you know the academy?’ she asked.
‘Not much call for hiring superyacht crew on my little boat.’