William felt apprehensive. He had only ever met the man once, and then it was to tell him to get out of England. Now, driven by loneliness and relentless curiosity, he had blustered his way into his villa, having lied to the Countess. To his astonishment, Justin gave him a dazzling smile. ‘How nice to see you, Sir William. Quite a surprise.’ Then he turned and walked back into the hall calling over his shoulder, ‘Don’t let me interrupt your dinner further.’ He caught Marta as she was about to wheel in the trolley with the main course, cupped her chin and kissed her lips. ‘Who’s a good girl?’ he said.
‘I thought you’d want to know. I think he invited himself,’ Marta said, then asked hesitantly, ‘How is she?’
He twisted his gold bracelets and his eyes brimmed with tears. ‘She’s going to be fine, but it’ll take a while longer.’
‘She’ll be coming home then?’
He nodded, and said caressingly, ‘Yes, our beautiful lily will be home, but you know how these clinics like to take their time and my money. They said she simply needed rest. She’s doing some new therapy with crystals, and she sounds much better. It wasn’t such a bad one apparently, but I like to be careful.’
Marta touched his hand gently. ‘You know I am always here for her.’
He started for the stairs. ‘I’d better get showered. Oh, is the fat man staying or is he just here for dinner?’
‘Just dinner,’ Marta said, as she wheeled the trolley towards the dining room. Two waiters came out to take it from her, and both looked to the stairs. Justin always had an effect on young men: the aura of danger that hung about him acted like a magnet.
Justin stood beneath the shower jets, eyes tightly closed, and pondered. Why was Sir William Benedict sitting at dinner? What did he want? What did he know? Or maybe it was all going according to plan. Maybe he was ripe for the picking already. Justin sighed. He knew he would find out sooner or later. And Sir William could not have appeared at a better time: Justin was broke again but downstairs, sitting at his dining-room table, was the man who had financed the reconstruction of this villa and paid off his debts. Justin spent money like water, and the cash William had given him was gone. He reached for a soft white towel and wrapped himself in it from head to toe. He was not sure yet how he could use his golden goose. The plan only formed later when everyone except William had departed.
William had drunk too much, and the combination of alcohol and anti-depressant pills had made him red-faced, sweaty, and unable to stand unaided. Every time he rose, the room spun and he felt ill. Justin helped him to his feet, and they went out on to the balcony into the cool night air, which made his head spin even more. He almost fell, but Justin caught him, guided him to a chair and went to brew some coffee. Marta had gone to bed, as had everyone else at the villa, and they were alone.
William tried desperately to sober up. With his head in his hands, he took deep breaths and tried to concentrate on his own shoes. He felt wretched. When Justin returned, he placed the steaming mugs on a low table then went to stand behind William’s chair and began to massage his shoulders.
‘I’m sorry about this,’ William said hoarsely. The strong hands were soothing.
‘Don’t worry about it. Just relax. You’re very tense — your shoulders are rigid.’
Justin leaned over to the table, and passed William his coffee. ‘This’ll make you feel better, and maybe you should take a couple of these. They’re just aspirin, but they’ll stave off the hangover.’
‘Thank you,’ William said. ‘I’m sorry to have just turned up on your doorstep like this. To be honest, I don’t really know why I came.’
‘I’m glad you did. And you’re most welcome to stay over if you would like.’
‘No, no, I must get back.’ There was an awkward silence. William lifted his eyes to Justin’s and flushed as the handsome man smiled. It was extraordinary, he thought. Even though Justin was in his early thirties he had the look of a well-scrubbed youth. ‘I think I’m very tired,’ he said lamely.
‘You must have been through a lot,’ Justin said, sitting opposite.
‘That’s putting it mildly!’ William leaned back and gazed over the garden so that he would not have to look at Justin, whose handsomeness unnerved him. ‘I just needed to get away to try to recharge my batteries. I’ve made a fool of myself.’
‘It’s understandable. Anyone would feel the same.’ Justin lit a cigarette, watching him with lizard-like attention.
‘Can’t show my face anywhere in London without being ridiculed. Not that I’m asked anywhere any more. I’m like some kind of plague. The people I thought were my friends have turned their backs on me, scared to be tarred with the same brush, I suppose. Dear God, I’m normally so in control of my life.’
‘Why don’t you do something about it?’
William sighed and drained his coffee mug. ‘That’s why I feel so wretched. The Baron and his wife walked out before dinner rather than sit at a table with me. So, in answer to your question, what the hell can I do about it?’
‘Well, instead of accepting it and weeping into your cup, so to speak, turn it round.’
William rose to his feet. He felt steadier now. ‘Oh, I dare say it’ll all blow over. At least my wealth is still intact. It’d be much worse if I’d lost that as well as my respectability.’ He chuckled a little.
‘It would be nice though, wouldn’t it, to make all those two-faced society cunts eat their own shit?’
William stared at him, a little shocked by his language and his icy tone. ‘Yeah, but well, my lawyers warned me the best thing to do was ignore it, and it’ll blow over.’
‘But it would be nice to lead them by the nose and rub it in the trash they’ve written about you. You see, Sir William, you made the biggest mistake of all. You got caught.’
‘Caught? The only thing I did wrong was trust Andrew Maynard,’ William snapped. ‘He was probably scared that his private life was about to come out. But what a terrible waste to kill himself!’
‘Yes, maybe, but you shouldn’t have tried to cover up for him.’
‘I think that’s enough.’ William had regained some of his decorum. ‘I should be on my way.’
Justin stood up and moved closer to him. ‘You could get back at them, you know. You just need the right connections.’
‘And you have them, do you?’ William said, with some sarcasm.
Justin moved closer still, and patted his shoulder. ‘I have them, Sir William, and I’ll tell you something else. If you just swallow the situation, wealth intact or no, you’ll hate yourself for the rest of your life.’ Justin’s voice was soft and persuasive, and he had the most hypnotic eyes William had ever seen. It was impossible to look away from him, even if what he went on to say was rather insulting. ‘Regaining your social acceptance can be arranged. It’s easily bought. But that should not be enough for a man of your standing. You want to regain the respect of others because, right now, you don’t have any. I don’t think you even have any for yourself. They’ve beaten you into running away, which is why you came here. Correct?’
‘You’re very intuitive.’ William was more and more intrigued by the young man, but not yet prepared to discuss his situation in any greater depth, especially not with Andrew Maynard’s ex-lover. But he sat down again.
It was then that Justin knew he had been right. He had an immensely rich fish on the end of his line, and the next few moments would be crucial in making him take the bait, and swallow it so that the hook lodged firmly in place. He must not wriggle free. Justin wondered how many more photographs of Andrew Maynard he could leak to keep it an ongoing front-pager.
‘So, Mr Chalmers, if you were in my position — and pray God that you never will be — what would you do?’