While I was considering that, another of Walter’s guests came forward to smile at me. A woman in her late sixties, grey-haired, with a wrinkled face that still held the remains of what had once been great beauty. She wore stylish but understated clothes that spoke quietly but persuasively of the virtues of another era. When people wore clothes to make them feel good about themselves, rather than just show off the latest labels. She wore a hell of a lot of jewellery, in all shapes and sizes, as though to say: See? I was lovely, once. Men gave me all this, because I was so lovely. She extended a slender veined hand for me to shake, and I did so carefully because she seemed fragile.
‘Hello, Ishmael Jones,’ she said, in a warm and still quietly thrilling voice. ‘I’m Diana Belcourt. First wife to Walter. Welcome, to what used to be my home before Walter gave me up for the more obvious charms of Melanie. I do miss this place … Just one of the many things I had taken from me in the divorce. Because Walter controlled all our finances, he could afford better lawyers than me. I suppose I could have fought more, but in the end I just wanted out. Everything I gave up was worth it, to earn my freedom. It was hard work, being Mrs Walter Belcourt. There’s nothing like being married to a Great Man of Business to force you into the shadows.’
I was saved from having to respond to any of that by Walter’s return. He nodded easily to Diana.
‘Still living in the past, my dear? You can’t expect to move forward if you’re always looking back over your shoulder.’
‘You’ve redecorated again, Walter,’ said Diana. ‘I don’t like it.’
‘Mel does,’ said Walter.
‘She never did have any taste,’ said Diana. ‘But then, that’s why you married her. You know, you never used to give in to me that easily, when we were married.’
‘Well, one of us had to mellow over the years,’ said Walter. ‘And it wasn’t going to be you, now, was it?’
‘Are you sure the two of you aren’t still married?’ I said. ‘You talk like you are.’
They both smiled. ‘We’re all on good terms,’ said Walter. ‘None of us are the type to bear grudges.’
‘As long as the alimony cheques keep coming,’ Diana said sweetly. And then she paused and fixed me with a thoughtful look. ‘James is my son. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone before who worked for him. He’s always kept himself to himself. I’m glad I’ve finally got to meet someone from that side of his life. He emails regularly, and phones when he can, as a good son should, but I haven’t seen him for years. He does like to keep himself a mystery.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I would have to agree with that.’
Another woman came forward to join us; a remarkably good-looking woman in her thirties. Walter and Diana both smiled on her, in their different ways.
‘Allow me to present my good friend and companion, Sylvia Heron,’ said Diana. ‘She makes sure I’m where I’m supposed to be and doing what I’m supposed to be doing. Don’t know what I’d do without her.’
Sylvia gave me a wide smile, as though I was really only there to meet her. A warm, suggestive smile, backed up by a steady gaze, as though we were the only people present in the room. Having Sylvia bestow her full attention on you was like staring into a spotlight. She shook my hand heartily, and her fingertips brushed against mine as she released her grip. I felt a definite spark, just for a moment. Which wasn’t something that happened to me very often. Sylvia was the kind of woman who could make a man feel like a man, and make him feel special, just by recognizing his existence. She looked me over, quite openly, and without saying anything made it very clear she liked what she saw.
Which was all very pleasant, but I couldn’t escape a strong suspicion that she treated everyone that way.
‘Stop it, Sylvia,’ said Diana; amused, but with just a hint of warning in her voice. ‘You can’t have them all, or there won’t be enough to go round.’
‘Sorry,’ said Sylvia, grinning. She didn’t sound sorry. ‘My eyes always were bigger than my stomach.’
‘Well, don’t eat the boy alive; at least, not until he’s found his feet.’
‘Why waste time, that’s what I say,’ Sylvia said artlessly.
She dressed glamorously in rich colours and clashing shades, and got away with it because her presence filled the room like a naked flame. Her face was just that little bit too long and horsey to be a classic beauty, but she could still take your breath away every time she turned her gaze on you. With a face like that, and one hell of a body to back it up, Sylvia could get away with anything where men were concerned, and she knew it. She dressed a lot younger than her age, like Melanie; but unlike Melanie, Sylvia could carry it off.
So I just smiled back at her, making a point of being entirely unmoved by her spectacular presence. Because I’m not easy. I can’t afford to be.
Sylvia blinked, just a little taken aback. ‘How lovely to have you with us, Ishmael,’ she said. ‘I only agreed to come to this draughty old heap to keep Diana company. I was expecting a dreary old-fashioned Christmas, but now it seems things are looking up. Always good to have new blood at an old gathering.’ She took a healthy drink from her champagne glass, made a moue when she realized she’d emptied it, and just stuck the glass out in mid air for someone to refill. Walter was quickly there, to do that little thing for her. Sylvia didn’t even notice. She was busy looking at me, thoughtfully. ‘Diana’s told me a lot about James. Your Colonel. I never expected to meet him here this weekend, or any of the mysterious people who work for him. Don’t worry if you can’t tell me any of your secrets; just make up some fascinating lies. That’s what I always do.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ I said.
There was general laughter from everyone listening; which was … everyone. They’d all been drawn forward by Sylvia’s performance, like moths to a flame. She might only be there as Diana’s friend and companion, but she knew she was expected to be part of the entertainment, and she had no problem with that.
The group broke up as Diana led Sylvia away for a few private words, and general conversation resumed. Without being too blatant about it, I watched Sylvia work the room with ruthless efficiency, moving from person to person and group to group, charming and sparkling and flirting outrageously with everyone, while making it look effortless. The lady was a professional. I made a mental note to keep my distance from her, because I knew a predator when I saw one. I’d met Sylvia’s kind before, at all sorts of gatherings. The professional friend and the perfect guest. The kind who’s always ready to latch on to the right people, to be a friend and companion to those in need, so she could always be sure of being invited to the right places and the right parties … where she could attach herself to someone better. That was Sylvia. Always moving on, always moving up, until she finally allowed someone big enough to pursue and catch her, and persuade her to settle down; in sufficient luxury, of course.
Question was: what was Sylvia doing here at Belcourt Manor? She couldn’t be after Walter, surely? Maybe she was just looking to make connections. Or maybe … she had her professional eye on something more solid. If I’d had any valuables, I’d have locked them up somewhere very secure while Sylvia was on the prowl.
I seemed to have made a complete circle of all the guests present, because I ended up back with Penny, who seemed happy enough to see me again. She might not be as glamorous as Sylvia, but she was a lot easier to be around. If only because she seemed to mean it when she smiled. The young man was still standing stubbornly at her side and made a point of stepping forward abruptly — ostensibly to introduce himself, but more noticeably to place himself between me and Penny.
‘Roger Levine,’ he said shortly. ‘And I don’t want you bothering Penny.’
‘Ah yes,’ I said. ‘The young man who’s always at Penny’s side, even when it’s obvious she’s forgotten you’re there.’