The atmosphere seemed affable, but tense undercurrents were building and Laura was at the eye of the storm. Matlock wanted to fuck her, Max was in love with her, as was Angela, and the von Gartens loathed her. They thought her nothing but a cheap, blackmailing whore. Daphne Hangerford, too drunk to be aware of the immediate situation, was the only person who didn’t want either to strangle Laura or make love to her.
Laura behaved as if she was privileged to sit with them, keeping her eyes down and maintaining a sweet, shy smile. Matlock eased his thigh to rest against hers beneath the table.
The big fish was hooked, but his demise was endangering her secret plan with Max. She knew she could not leave the island before the final showdown with Matlock, but time was running out. When Justin discovered everyone was leaving he would be furious, and especially with her for acting without consulting him. She wondered fearfully if she dare carry out the revenge alone. No, she knew she couldn’t.
‘That was a long sigh,’ Matlock whispered. She gave him a tiny, intimate smile and he leaned closer again. ‘A penny for ’em.’
‘Oh, my thoughts cost more than pennies,’ she said softly, her mind jumping. Having orchestrated the imminent departure of the Baron and Baroness, along with Daphne Hangerford and Clarissa, Laura knew that the Matlocks and Max would be the only guests left, and Sir William would turn up at the most inopportune moment.
Laura felt Matlock’s leg pressing harder against hers, then his hand fumbling with her skirt. She made the decision. If Justin didn’t return on time as they had agreed, she would carry it out alone. She was determined that nothing would stop her running away with Max.
She glanced across the table. They were trying hard not to look at each other, but intuitively Max turned round. His eyes glowed, and she forced herself not to react. Beneath the table, she unzipped Matlock’s trousers and began to fondle him, but now she felt disgusted at herself. How could she do this to a man she hated whilst the boy she loved was sitting right opposite her? She concentrated her mind on the plan and drew comfort from the thought that all this was part of a greater scheme.
The plan was for Laura to make Matlock desire her to such an extent that he would agree to meet on the quayside. They would board one of the boats and Justin would be waiting.
Chapter nineteen
By midnight, the Coca-Baba club was so crowded that there was hardly any space on the dance floor. Customers perched on the veranda railings and hovered around the rickety steps while the local ragga band pounded away at the microphones, which seemed constantly on distort. The loudspeakers added a high-pitched feedback that almost assisted the vocals and backups. The air was dense with cigarette and ganja smoke, and it was as hot and damp as a sauna. Perfumes mixed with body odour as the dancers writhed to the music. Flickering ultraviolet lights added to the surreal atmosphere: teeth became whiter than white, white clothes glowed with a strange phosphorescence, black skin disappeared leaving only eyeballs and teeth glinting from darkened corners as wraps, joints and folded dollar bills were passed.
Justin sat outside on the roof of a parked car. He had another tepid bottle of beer in his hand and had been eager to leave over an hour ago. Clarissa had danced with anyone who’d have her. She was being passed from partner to partner, necking and clinging to each one as though they were long-lost lovers. Justin watched her, bored. Her eyes occasionally darted him a frenetic glare of hatred. She was proving, if not to him then to herself, that she was sexy and sought-after, which indeed she was. Locally, white meat, especially with money, was referred to as a ‘honey pot’. James had become moodier as the evening progressed. He had snorted cocaine, then complained to Justin that it was baby powder or, worse, laced with borax: his nose was dripping and painful.
Justin decided it was time to go home. The tide was in their favour and the water appeared quite calm. Enough, he thought, was enough. His charges were wrecked. He drained his beer, tossed aside the bottle and pushed his way into the heaving mass. Clarissa angrily faced him out: she was not ready to leave. Justin gripped her wrist and dragged her to the steps. ‘Get off me,’ she screeched. ‘I’ve lost my watch!’
‘Shut the fuck up! You want a pack on to us? If you lost your watch, then forget it. Maybe somebody took it in payment for screwing you up the arse in the john.’
She tried to hit him but he ducked. She fell forward and began to vomit.
Justin hauled her away from the onlookers towards the waste-ground at the side of the club. There he found James. He was lying face down, his shirt torn, his pants round his ankles.
Justin hauled him to his feet. ‘Get your pants up, man. We’re out of here.’
‘I was just taking a piss,’ James slurred.
Justin signalled for the boys waiting on the speedboat to help him get the pair on to the deck.
‘Why did you bring us here?’ Clarissa wailed. She continued to snivel about her watch, until she realized her gold necklace was also missing, which brought on a fresh onslaught of tears.
‘Think yourself lucky you’ve not lost a lot more. Stop bleating, and have a good shower when you get in. You’re probably lousy with crabs.’
Clarissa gasped and shuddered. ‘I didn’t let them touch me,’ she moaned. But she had, and had lost count of how many.
Justin ignored her. He had noticed James was white-faced, his lips blue. He still seemed unable to focus. ‘You okay? James?’
James swung his head round. ‘Yeah, man... I’m cool.’
The return trip to the island was a long, slow haul. When they arrived at the island, Justin strode off towards his bungalow. He wanted to shower and get the stench of vomit out of his nostrils. As he passed Max’s room he crept up to the half-open shutter. The lights were on but, although the sheet had been pulled back, the bed was empty. Justin listened, but heard only the sound of crickets, so he moved on. Where could Max be at this hour?
Laura’s suite was in darkness, shutters closed, door locked. He walked on to his own room where the lights were blazing. ‘You’re late,’ said Laura, as he came in, closing the door.
‘I couldn’t get them to leave the club. I got back as soon as I could.’ He began to peel off his clothes. ‘Don’t come near me, I stink.’ He stepped out of his trousers.
‘We have to talk,’ Laura said.
‘Not right now. I need a shower.’ He disappeared into the bathroom.
Laura sat drumming her fingers on the bedside table. She had it all worked out. By the time he had left the bathroom Justin was more relaxed. He flopped down on the bed and Laura stroked his damp hair.
‘Okay. How did it go with Matlock? You made progress?’
‘Yes, he’s all over me like a rash. But I don’t know whether I can go through with it. The man disgusts me. I don’t know that I want to give him the pleasure of fucking me.’
‘Well, there’s no need, is there? I mean, I think I’ve done a pretty good job of getting him into the fishing anyway. He’ll be dying to get out there tomorrow, and I’ll just tell the boat-boys that I’m going to take him out alone.’
For a moment Laura was hurt. She had wanted to be there for the grand finale. Then she realized that perhaps with Justin absent she would have a chance to get her things together for her escape with Max.
Justin saw her look and interpreted it as disappointment. ‘Don’t worry, my princess. I’ll just get him drugged up on the boat then bring him back to the harbour. Keep an eye open for me and we’ll finish him down there. I should be back around twelve thirty.’
She took a deep breath. ‘Now, just listen and don’t interrupt. I’ve had to push things along a few notches. Tomorrow the Baron and Baroness leave, along with Daphne Hangerford and Clarissa.’