‘What’s the matter?’
‘I don’t think you should talk about her in that way.’
‘You see? She’s got you hooked.’ He laughed. ‘Imagine fucking her, William. See the swan turn into a demon. She’ll have every man on that island, every woman and child eating out of the palm of her tiny innocent hand. And she can bite, you know, and draw blood like no other woman.’
William refused to listen. He hated Justin when he talked like a pimp. But he was angry with himself too — because he couldn’t stop thinking of her asleep, naked, her perfect thighs, her breasts, and it made him feel ashamed.
‘Maybe you should try out the goods, huh?’ Justin said, hopping into a jeep parked outside.
‘Why don’t you shut your foul mouth before I put my fist in it?’
Justin started up the engine as William got in. ‘Anything you say. You’re holding the purse strings. I don’t suppose she’s told you how much she wants yet, has she?’ William refused to answer. ‘Well, you can discuss it tonight, but her services don’t come cheap.’
‘Services?’ William was appalled.
‘She’ll charge a lot more than those Mayfair whores you got hammered for screwing. Laura isn’t a cheap hooker, she’s a courtesan. If you get Matlock, he’ll bring his wife and his son. If you leave them alone with Laura she’ll have each one of them.’
‘Really?’ William said flatly. He was sure now that Justin was joking, but refused to join in with his sick humour.
Justin smiled to himself. He’d never met a man who hadn’t wanted to protect Laura on first meeting. Tonight William would witness the other side of Laura — the temptress or maybe the seductress. She had numerous different personalities and Justin loved every one of them. He admonished himself, though, for his reckless conversation: sometimes he forgot that his strait-laced friend did not think as he did. He must not do anything that might make William scuttle away from the trap, which was now in place.
When they got back from the afternoon’s waterskiing, William rested until almost nine. He was so tired he hardly felt like dressing for dinner. As he sat morosely by his dressing-table, Justin came in, wearing a white suit and a black T-shirt.
‘Every bone aches. I’m not hungry, I am totally exhausted,’ William said.
‘Just get dressed. I’ve a little something to give you a boost.’
William went to his wardrobe, selected a cream linen suit, then saw that Justin had chopped out four lines of cocaine on a small hand mirror. ‘I don’t do drugs,’ he barked.
‘Just this once,’ cooed Justin. ‘It’ll give you some energy. We don’t want you falling asleep half-way through dinner. Go on, everyone should try it once.’
William hummed and hawed, then accepted the rolled bank — note and snorted. His eyes watered and he coughed, but Justin pointed to the next line. ‘That’s enough,’ William said.
‘Do the other line and stop stalling.’
‘Justin, I have never used drugs. I abhor them,’ he said, but he bent his head to do the other line as he spoke. ‘I really don’t approve of this,’ he justified himself, blinking back tears. ‘And I don’t feel anything but a runny nose,’ he said, sniffing.
‘Believe me, you’ll be needing this tonight. Let’s go down,’ Justin said.
William sniffed again. He wondered why Justin thought he’d be needing the cocaine. As he started down the staircase, it hit him like a thunderbolt. His head cleared and his body felt weightless. He felt incredibly fit and alert, almost jumping down the last few stairs. ‘You know, I bet any money if I went back on the skis tomorrow I’d be able to stay up. We can do it first thing before breakfast.’ William crouched on the stairs with his hands held out in front of him, as if he was waterskiing.
Justin turned and looked at him, then gave that wonderful, slow smile. ‘You should trust your friend. He’s always going to take care of you. Now we’ll have a little caviar, some iced champagne, and party.’
‘Fine by me,’ William said, with an inane grin.
What William had not been expecting downstairs, though, was dinner guests. ‘What the hell are they doing here?’ he muttered.
‘Don’t fret, old boy, this is all part of the plan. I’ve arranged a small soirée so that you can drop the news that it’s your island everyone’s been getting excited about.’
‘We never discussed this.’ William was anxious.
‘Trust me. Now is the right time. That Sylvina thing has made you look all squeaky clean. Go ahead, give it a go. You’ll enjoy it.’
Before he could argue, one of the guests, in the shape of the blowsy Meryl Delaware, almost threw him sideways. She was aiming for Justin, but he sidestepped her and she stumbled into William.
‘Miss Delaware,’ he said, thankful for the wall behind him.
‘Oh, good evening. Sir William Benedict, isn’t it?’
‘Generally speaking,’ he said, and she looked almost puzzled.
‘You look very different. Is it your hair?’
‘Maybe the lack of it,’ he said, with a charming smile, as she backed away and bumped into Terence Hampton.
William looked around. Rent-a-crowd, he thought. He helped himself to a glass of champagne, and drank it down as if it was water. He had such a thirst! He wasn’t in the least bit self-conscious or worried that no one was approaching him. Instead, he was enjoying surveying the room, and quickly realized that Laura was absent. Marta was moving quietly around, collecting used glasses and half-empty dishes of caviar, the remnants swimming in melting ice. As she passed William he asked if Laura was joining them.
‘I believe so, Sir William,’ she answered, and reached out to catch a glass that Princess Constantina had inadvertently knocked off a bookcase.
‘I was so sorry to hear about your break-up with Countess Lubrinsky.’ Meryl had had to resort to talking to William.
‘I’m still broken-hearted,’ he said, smiling. ‘As you can see. Inconsolable.’ He dipped into some caviar. He was enjoying himself and decided that this was the right moment. ‘Actually, I’ve been recovering on my island in the Caribbean.’
‘The Caribbean?’ Meryl’s mind was whirring.
‘Yes, I think you wrote an article about it. “Billionaire’s Paradise Island Home”,’ he quoted.
He laughed inwardly when her jaw dropped.
‘Tragic about Lord Bellingham’s son, wasn’t it?’
Meryl blinked her mascara-caked eyelashes and nodded. Rivulets of lipstick gathered in the crevices around her mouth, giving it the appearance of a tight pink arse-hole. ‘I was in the Caribbean when it happened,’ she said, adopting a sorrowful expression.
‘So was I,’ said William. ‘My island is next door to theirs.’
‘Really?’
‘I noticed you at the party, too.’
‘Party?’ she said guardedly.
‘I’d say it was one of the most decadent evenings of my entire life.’
Her hands were trembling. ‘My dear,’ she whispered, ‘a little word of advice. Don’t discuss that evening. It’s best forgotten. I left early. I had a dreadful migraine.’
‘I remember you being there well,’ he persisted. ‘Life and soul of the party as I recall.’
Meryl pursed her lips. ‘I suggest you forget it.’ She glared over his shoulder and caught Terence Hampton’s eye. ‘Ah, Terence, dahling! Are you my chauffeur for this evening?’ She rolled her eyes towards William. He did not miss it. ‘We should really be thinking about leaving.’
‘I only just got here,’ he moaned, but Meryl grabbed him and bundled him away.
William strolled out on to the balcony. Princess Constantina stood with her back to the open doors, having a heated discussion with Count Capri. ‘Well, it was drugs as well,’ she was saying, ‘but he’d been abused and tied up. That’s what I was told. You know Lord B, he’d never let that out. It was bad enough that the boy was always in a drugged stupor.’