‘Do you know Sir William, Lord Bellingham?’ Justin asked casually, as William joined them.
Bellingham gave him no more than a cursory glance. ‘I believe so.’ He turned away. ‘Annabella, darling, we should make moves,’ he said. He gave William another glance as he strode up the gangplank.
Justin turned to the women. ‘Lady Annabella Bellingham and Countess Maria de Coveney, Sir William Benedict.’
They gave aloof smiles and Lady Annabella shook William’s hand, which was hot and wet. She withdrew hers quickly. ‘Do be on time,’ she barked to Justin. ‘We’ve got so much security to deal with — it’s a real headache.’
Justin bowed over her hand and kissed it. She laughed and tapped his cheek. ‘Oh, you sexy boy.’
She started up the gangplank. The Countess, at least, acknowledged William, before following. Now the second man shook Justin’s hand before turning to William. ‘I’m Gabriel, Frederick Capri’s brother. I believe you know him?’
William nodded. He couldn’t think of anything to say as he’d only met him fleetingly at the villa in France. ‘Justin, I’ll see you on the boat,’ he said flatly, and walked away.
As he left the group, there was a burst of laughter behind him. William blushed angrily.
It was another ten minutes before Justin joined him.
‘Let’s go!’ he said, hurling the ropes to Sammy and jumping aboard. He patted William’s knee. ‘You seem a bit out of sorts,’ he said kindly.
‘I’m bloody hot and just want to get the hell out of here.’
Justin gestured to Sammy, who opened up the engines and they started to move out, weaving their way between the moorings and passing the Bellingham yacht. There were now eight people sitting on it under the canopy, laughing and drinking. One young boy with blond hair was sitting with his legs over the side. He waved to Justin.
‘So pretty, isn’t he?’ Justin mused. ‘That’s Oliver Bellingham. He’s not allowed off the boat — just been kicked out of school for dealing drugs. The other guests on board—’
‘I’m not interested,’ said William curtly, refusing to look towards the group, who were now all watching the powerboat draw away.
Justin settled into the seat next to Sammy. ‘Open her up! Jog a martini out of Annabella’s hand!’ The engines throbbed, all six kicked in, the bow lifted out of the water and the boat sped out of the harbour.
By the time they reached the island William was frozen stiff. It took an hour and a half, and the pounding of the engines had given him a throbbing headache. By the time they got there, William was shivering. An hour later he had a temperature of a hundred and two.
Dahlia took great care of him. She arranged for trays of tasty food, tea, lemon drinks and iced fruit to be brought up to his room. Some time later Justin caught her as she carried down a tray. ‘What the fuck is wrong with him?’ he asked.
‘Heatstroke, but he thinks it’s malaria. His temperature is quite high.’
‘How long is he going to be up there?’
‘Maybe a day or so. He’s not eating too well, and he’s sleeping a lot. He’ll be fine.’
‘I bloody hope so.’
William remained in bed for three days. His linen was changed and he was washed and shaved like an invalid. He was rather tickled when he discovered he had lost fifteen pounds.
On the fourth day, at William’s request, Justin arranged for Kurt to give him a gentle workout in the gym. After three gym sessions, the loss of fifteen pounds, daily massage and three more self-tanning treatments, William began to feel rejuvenated. He discussed his diet with Dahlia, and eventually sent a message to Justin that he would like to have lunch with him. It consisted of salad, chicken breast, an array of apple, carrot and vegetable juices and a row of vitamin pills.
‘My! We’re on a health regime, I see,’ said Justin, as he sat down.
‘You can order anything you want,’ William said, picking at his chicken. ‘I just want to lose at least another ten pounds. Kurt’s getting me into shape.’
‘Well, that’s wonderful.’ Justin could just about manage some enthusiasm.
‘How do you want to be paid?’ William was pouring more apple juice.
‘I’m sorry?’ Justin leaned forward.
‘Well, you can have a cheque, but it’s quite a sum, and for tax reasons I wondered if you had some offshore bank account. If you like, I can set one up for you.’
‘Cheque,’ Justin said quickly, then frowned. Maybe he should have a think about his tax situation. He rarely, if ever, paid any. The truth was that what came in went directly out again.
‘Cheque it is, but it might be useful to have a word with my accountant. It’s up to you.’
Justin could hardly believe it: he was paying him off, getting rid of him. He had to get William to agree to the plan, and fast.
‘You’re very quiet,’ William said, smiling.
‘Just thinking about what you said. I’ve never been all that good with money, you know. If I have it I spend it. But this is quite a tidy sum.’
‘Well deserved, though.’ William was smiling again. Justin found this new, cheerful William a little unnerving. ‘Have to say, I had some doubts... I mean, more than doubts. After all, you overspent the original budget by four million, and to be honest I was none too pleased. But the more I’ve taken in your work, the more I see it was necessary. I have never, until now, had any interest in any of my homes, but this one I like.’
‘We aim to please.’ Justin helped himself to salad.
‘I wanted you to help me out on another little area,’ William said, ‘if you have the time, that is.’ He gestured down at himself. ‘I see how dreadful I look. How deadly my taste has been.’ He looked up at Justin. ‘I know it’s silly, but I want to wear clothes that make me feel good. When I shopped with Sylvina, she made me buy what other people thought was good — you know what I mean? Like my ex-wives — they togged me out too and, to be honest, I want a...’ he gave a boyish shrug ‘...younger look.’
‘We can get you some local summer gear. You don’t want anything too...’
‘Safari?’ William said, and sniggered.
By mid-afternoon, the gardeners and the boat-boys had been handed plastic bags filled with discarded clothes to burn. Needless to say, they were thrilled, knowing they could resell them on Tortola, or even across the strait on Puerto Rico.
While William went for a workout in the gym with Kurt, Justin started sorting out a costume for the Bellinghams’ summer dance. The British loved dressing up — the more outlandishly the better. It was as if they were trying to revert to childhood. He’d been working away for an hour when there was a knock at the door. It was William. ‘I was wondering whether you wanted to watch some videos with me tonight?’
‘Any other time,’ Justin said, wrapping some pale blue silk around his fist and pulling it into a shape. ‘I’m going over to the Bellinghams’ and I’ve got to fathom out some kind of costume.’ He plonked the turban on his head.
‘You were invited?’ William said, jealous.
‘Yes. The son invited me, Oliver. They invite a select mob and dress up. Prizes and games. Awful, really. But quite good for me, you know, drumming up business.’
He was lying. He never used social events to ply his trade.
‘They didn’t ask me,’ William said, disgruntled.
Justin spun round and winked. ‘Come with me?’ he said, holding up a bolt of pink shot silk and silver-threaded organza.