He picked up the phone and called Sylvina. ‘It’s me,’ he said hesitantly. ‘I don’t want to be on my own, Sylvina, just tonight. It’s not... Can I come round to see you?’
‘Yes.’
There was a long pause before she surprised herself by saying, ‘I was just about to call you.’
‘Well, I beat you to it.’
When Sylvina opened the apartment door, they looked at each other then embraced. It was not a sexual gesture, just mutually comforting.
‘After I left you,’ he said, accepting the brandy she held out, ‘I started remembering things that I didn’t want to think about. And then I couldn’t stop.’
‘Me too.’
They clinked glasses.
As they lay next to each other in the big Louis Quinze bed, William felt an unfamiliar warmth. ‘My mother...’ he said shyly.
She snuggled against him. ‘I was thinking of mine too.’
They slept that night in each other’s arms. They had not found the answers, they were not even sure what they were looking for, but they had found a deeper friendship.
The following morning they had breakfast together. As Sylvina poured his coffee she gave him an affectionate smile. ‘Had any more thoughts on what we talked about last night?’
He looked at her, surprised, a glob of marmalade at the side of his mouth. ‘What? What do you mean?’
She sipped her chilled citron pressé. ‘You’re not having second thoughts... about going on?’
‘Good heavens, no!’ he said, slurping his coffee.
It almost made her wince. In a formal setting his eating habits were acceptable, as she had observed at the dinner party, but when he was relaxed, he reverted to childhood table manners; eating with his fingers and dropping crumbs everywhere.
‘For one thing, the island isn’t anywhere near ready, and for another, as good as you are at bolstering my confidence, I’ve still a long way to go. Besides, I’m enjoying myself. This is the longest period I’ve ever spent away from my work.’
She smiled. ‘Well, you’re not entirely away from it. You spend hours every day on the phone barking instructions, and I’ve seen the faxes at the hotel for you every night.’
‘Ah, yes. Well, I’ve got to keep my beady eye on everyone. I’ve got damned good staff, but you can never trust anyone else to make your decisions.’
‘You mean you can’t delegate.’ His sharp tone unnerved her.
‘Oh, but I can, my dear. If I couldn’t, I wouldn’t be worth the fortune I have accumulated over thirty years. I have thirty-five board members, even more top-level executives. Some have been working for me for years. I believe in giving tremendous responsibility to my team — it’s one of my talents. An even better talent is spotting new blood...’
Sylvina listened for a full ten minutes as William outlined his numerous business deals, down to the location of each of his endless factories. Then he described the new Internet site he had set up to sell his games on-line, even drawing with his sticky knife on the pristine tablecloth to demonstrate some new hi-tech computer link that kids could use to play for serious prizes across the world.
She gritted her teeth. The question on her lips was why William was playing around with her, albeit at a price, and why he was allowing Justin free access to his island at what she knew would be an astronomical cost. Darling Justin Chalmers could spend other people’s money even better than she could steal it. He had no morals, unless... Was it some kind of blackmail?
‘Is Justin hitting you for cash?’ she asked sweetly.
‘Bloody fortune.’ William stood up and tossed his napkin on to the table. Then he beamed. ‘But he’s building me a paradise.’
‘Really? Well, far be it from me to give you any advice, if that’s what you want...’
‘Ah, that’s only part of it.’ He glanced at his wristwatch.
Sylvina couldn’t resist asking, ‘Part of what?’
He walked to the door as if he were not going to reply, but as he reached it he looked back at her. ‘It’s a private matter.’
‘To do with Andrew Maynard?’
His face darkened. There were many layers to William, she thought, and from his expression, she knew that whatever Justin was up to had something to do with the death of Maynard.
‘Indirectly,’ William said quietly, and swung the door with the toe of his shoe. ‘Most of all it’s to do with me, and if Justin hasn’t enlightened you then I feel I shouldn’t. Now, it’s getting late and we don’t want to miss the entire morning. We’re going to the galleries today, aren’t we?’
‘Yes, it’s a private view,’ she said, stubbing out her cigarette. Not that anyone would be examining the paintings, just who was there. The publicity wheels were already in motion and she and William would be photographed. ‘I suggest you take your time over dressing. Wear the new Valentino dark grey suit, white shirt and silk tie. I’ll meet you in two hours. I must have my hair done, my nails...’
‘Okay, whatever you say, ma’am.’ He walked out, leaving her deeply frustrated and still no nearer the real reason behind her ‘contract’ with him and whatever the devious Justin was doing.
William had arranged a bank account for Justin to use during his work on the island. He did not place any limit on expenditure, but gave strict instructions that any new acquisitions must be agreed in advance. These were to be dealt with through his office at home, where Michael would monitor Justin’s costs. Justin sent faxes several sheets long on the refurbishments, detailing everything from art purchases down to the price and size of each towel to be placed in the suites. Time and again Michael gasped with amazement as the costs soared, but whenever he mentioned it to William he was simply told to pay. So he did. The figure mounted daily.
That evening William and Sylvina were to dine with the British ambassador, after a first-night performance of Dido and Aeneas at the Bastille Opera. A photographer leaped forward when they alighted from their limousine, drawing the press-pack towards them, the battery of flashbulbs making them feel like royalty. Sylvina was pleased they could not be photographed inside the theatre, as William slept through the entire programme. Returning to the hotel he yawned until she wanted to slap him.
‘I think I’ve had enough of Paris,’ he said eventually.
She would have liked to tell him that she’d had just about enough of him, but instead she said she would need a couple of days to pack and make the arrangements to move on. He didn’t argue. For two days he left her in peace as he took himself off to toy shops. Toy shops! At times he behaved so childishly.
William returned with his arms full of mechanical toys. Sylvina found him sitting on the floor winding them up and crawling around after them on all fours. A few hours later he had taken them all apart. He made fast sketches of each and beamed with delight. ‘I can rip off every one of these. My factory can knock them out at a quarter the price. Obviously we’ll have to make them slightly different, or I’ll be sued, but—’
She interrupted, ‘I have some shopping to do. Would you arrange with your pilot to take off later? I’ve had some alterations done and they won’t be ready for collection till four.’
‘No problem, dear heart.’ He was squatting on the floor with an electronic device that made four toy mice scuttle across the carpet, followed by a larger creature representing a cat. Sylvina walked out as he yelped, ‘Gotcha!’ The furry cat scooped the little mice into its open mouth, and emitted a high-pitched screech.
‘Bloody clever,’ he muttered. Although William had never had toys in his childhood, he was not making up for it now, as Sylvina thought. This was money: this was what excited and cheered him. At long last he was looking forward to returning to work: his energy was back.