"For God's sake, Vicky, snap out of this, will you!"
She sneered at him and looked away.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly.
"I didn't mean to snap." Vicky didn't react. Sharkey put down his glass and knelt down by the side of her lounger. He stroked her shoulder.
"This is temporary, Vicky. Just until we get things sorted."
Vicky shook her head.
"This isn't getting things sorted. This is hiding."
A red and white helicopter buzzed towards one of the biggest yachts in the bay. Sharkey continued to stroke her shoulder. Her skin was smooth and warm from the sun. He moved his hand up to her neck and ran his fingers through her soft, blonde hair.
"I miss Robbie," she said quietly.
"I know you do."
"I don't think you do," she said.
"You don't have children. You don't know what it's like to have them taken away from you. And that's what Den's going to do. You know that. He'll take Robbie to the Caribbean and I'll never see him again."
"You took his passport, Den can't take him anywhere."
Vicky scowled.
"That's not going to stop him. Den's got half a dozen passports. He can just as easily get one for Robbie."
Sharkey tried to kiss her cheek but she pushed him away.
"Stewart, I don't want to be touched right now. Okay?"
Sharkey put his hands up in surrender.
"Okay. I'm sorry." He sat down on the edge of her lounger.
"Look, there are things we can do. Things I can do. I'll talk to a lawyer. Get some sort of injunction stopping Den taking Robbie out of the country."
"You said we couldn't talk to anyone back in the UK?"
"I'll get it done. I'll find a way. And things are going to get hot for Den he won't be able to hang around London for long."
Vicky shaded her eyes with the flat of her hand.
"What do you mean?"
"Den's got problems, you know that. Customs and the cops will be waiting for him to put a foot wrong. He can't operate in London. He'll have to go back to the Caribbean. And if I talk to a lawyer, he won't be able to take Robbie with him. Once he's gone, we can go back to the UK."
"Den won't run away with his tail between his legs."
"No, but he won't risk twenty years in prison. He's got stuff on the go, and he's going to have to take care of business. He can't do that in London." Sharkey looked earnestly at Vicky, his eyes burning into hers.
"I know what I'm doing, Vicky. I know this is a mess but you're going to have to trust me. Den's as mad as hell just now, but he'll calm down. He'll negotiate. He'll have to."
"Because he wants his money back?"
"Exactly."
"How much did you take, Stewart?"
Sharkey looked away.
"Enough to hurt him. Enough for him to know that he can't push us around."
"How much?"
Sharkey shrugged.
"A few million. It's not important."
"How much is a few?"
"Oh, come on, Vicky. This was never about money. You know that." He took her hand and toyed with her wedding ring.
"I love you. You know I love you. The money's just a way of keeping Den in check. As soon as he's calmed down, we'll give it back. I promise. I've got more than enough to take care of you."
"You promise?"
"What? That I've got enough money?"
"That you'll pay Den back? Once we've sorted out Robbie and everything."
Sharkey nodded.
"I promise."
"I mean it, Stewart. It's one thing to walk out on him. It's another to steal from him."
"You're not stealing. You're entitled. You had signing rights to all those accounts."
Vicky shook her head.
"That was just to keep the money safe. He never gave me the money, it was just in my name."
Sharkey put his hands on her knees.
"Love, we're not stealing from Den. A bit of leverage, that's all I wanted." Vicky bit down on her lower lip. She looked as if she was about to cry again. Sharkey pinched her chin gently.
"Come on, we've got champagne, we've got the sun, we've got a million-dollar view. Let's at least try to enjoy it."
Vicky nodded and forced a smile. Sharkey stood up and kissed the top of her head. She reached up for him and her lips moved to find his. He kissed her and slipped his hand down her bikini top, cupping her breast and feeling her nipple stiffen. She moaned and lay back and Sharkey rolled over on top of her, pushing her bikini bottoms down. She opened her legs wide for him and he entered her quickly, covering her mouth with his to stifle her moans.
She scratched her nails down his shirt and clasped her ankles behind his waist as he pounded into her. Vicky's eyes were closed, but Sharkey stared down at her as he thrust back and forth, his face a tight mask even when he came inside her. His mind wasn't on what he was doing. He was thinking about what he was going to do next. Considering his options. It was starting to look as if he was going to have to choose between Den Donovan's millions and Den Donovan's wife. He'd always planned to have both, and the way things stood at the moment, he wasn't sure which he wanted most.
Vicky opened her eyes and Sharkey smiled down at her.
"I love you," he said, and sounded as if he meant it.
"I love you too," she said, and closed her eyes again.
The taxi pulled up in front of Laura's house. Robbie gave his father a black look and made no move to get out.
"Look, we can't stay in our house," said Donovan.
"Not yet."
"Why not?"
"I told you why not."
"It's our home, Dad."
The driver twisted around in his seat and slid back the glass partition.
"Are you getting out here or not?" he asked in a voice that suggested he couldn't care less either way.
"Give us a minute, yeah?" said Donovan.
"I've got a living to earn, you know."
Donovan's eyes hardened. He stared at the driver.
"The meter's running, so you just turn around and mind your own business, okay?"
The driver hesitated. He tried to meet Donovan's stare but after a few seconds he averted his eyes, mumbled something and then closed the glass partition. Donovan continued to stare at the back of the man's head.
"Dad!" hissed Robbie.
"Stop it."
Donovan turned to look at him.
"What?"
"Don't do that. He's only doing his job."
"He's a prick."
"You always do that."
"Do what?"
"Lose your temper. It's like you want to start a fight." Robbie nodded at the house.
"I don't want to stay here."
"Aunty Laura takes good care of you, doesn't she?"
"That's not the point."
"What is the point, Robbie?"
Robbie brushed tears from his eyes. He turned his face away so that Donovan couldn't see him cry. Donovan put his arm around his son. Robbie tried to shake him away but Donovan hugged him tightly.
"Just a few days, okay?"
Robbie sniffed.
"Then we can go home?"
"Maybe."
Robbie turned and looked at Donovan accusingly.
"What do you mean, maybe?"
"Are you sure you want to stay in the house?" asked Donovan.
"Wouldn't you prefer to go to Anguilla?"
"No!" said Robbie quickly.
"No way!"
Donovan was surprised by the vehemence in his son's voice.
"I thought you liked the Caribbean?" he said.
"For holidays, yeah. I don't want to live there."
"Come on, Robbie. It's got the sun, the beach. You can go swimming every day. You love it there."
"My friends are here. My school's here."
"Robbie "No!" Robbie shouted.
"I'm staying here! You're not taking me with you!" He fumbled for the door handle and rushed out of the taxi.
Donovan watched him run up to the front door of Laura's house. He started to go after Robbie, but then hesitated and pulled the taxi door shut. He told the driver to go to Sussex Gardens and settled back in the seat.