Sleeping Cruelty

by Lynda La Plante

  Just as he felt sleep descending, she slipped into bed beside him. She snuggled up to him like a child and her kisses were soft and sweet. She whispered to him that he was special, that he was a king, a prince. He was the love she had dreamed of finding, he made her happy. He had never felt such a powerful emotion: a consuming need to protect and provide for the child-woman he held in his arms.

  ‘That must never happen again, Laura.’

  ‘What mustn’t?’

  ‘What we did earlier. I don’t ever want that to happen again.’

  ‘Why not? Don’t you like me?’

  ‘It’s because I like you too much, I respect you too much. I’m not a stupid man, I know it was to prove something to me and you succeeded. But I can’t use you, even if I desire you. It’s wrong.’

  He was holding Laura in the crook of his arm when the naked Justin slipped in beside him and hooked his arm around them both.

  ‘She’s good, isn’t she?’ Justin said into the darkness.

  Laura reached across William to kiss Justin. Then she flopped back. ‘That was just a free sample,’ she said to William. ‘What carat would you rate me?’ Her voice was singsong, a little girlish. ‘I want a big whopper each time. You promised me, William, that’s right, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yep,’ said William, out of his depth.

  He was unable to think straight, aghast at the proximity of Justin’s nakedness.

  Justin, who had hooked a long leg over William’s, said, ‘Listen, old boy, tomorrow we’re waterskiing again, so I suggest you get some kip.’ He brushed William’s face with his hand then kissed him sweetly on the cheek like a young boy. ‘Come on, Diamond Lil, bedtime. Get your beauty sleep.’

  She jumped up and Justin, with his sister’s ease and grace, got up too. Naked, they walked out, arms around each other, leaving William alone.

  William patted his pillow, afraid of all the demons inside him. He needed to step aside and look from a distance at what had taken place. He found he couldn’t do it. What was he thinking of? It had got out of hand, this talk of Matlock and vendettas, and his ex-girlfriend Angela. He would put a stop to it first thing in the morning because he was afraid. Suddenly he thought that the paradise trap might be intended for him.

  As sleep enveloped him, his fears turned into nightmares. When he’d read Andrew Maynard’s secret diaries, he had envied his exploration of his sexuality. He remembered the blanked-out sections. Had Justin taken Maynard that step further, the step that William had half contemplated?

  He knew without doubt that Justin had drawn the naïve Andrew Maynard into an erotic world that had eventually obsessed him, ultimately killed him. Yet that night he had experienced such powerful emotion, not just for Laura but for Justin as well and, no matter how he had protested, she had made love to him and it was as if she had opened a closed door in his mind or in his soul. Whatever had happened had not been merely an erotic excursion but some kind of baptism.

  William forced himself to remember the night, on the island, with Dahlia and Ruby. He could see Justin laughing as he watched the video. He sat up quickly, his breath caught in his chest. Had they filmed him this evening? The aim of the game was to capture his guests in pornographic situations, but what if the intention all along had been to entrap William himself? Might this be an elaborate blackmail scam, into which he had unwittingly played? Fear consumed him, and then it subsided. He realized he was the one controlling the game; he had instigated it. From now on he would take control, not just of Laura and Justin but of his life. He knew he was the stronger; he knew he had become stronger. And he also knew that he had been taken on a journey. Far from destroying him, it had made him become a man. Tomorrow he would make it clear there was to be no further sexual intercourse between himself and Laura. That was the only way of knowing he was in control. He felt easier, and his eyes were heavy. He slept with the perfume of lilies, unable not to recall what it had felt like to have both their bodies entwined with his own.

  Chapter Twelve

  At nine William was served breakfast by Marta. He felt refreshed and alert, and ready to take control. He asked if Justin and Laura were still sleeping.

  Marta looked surprised. ‘Goodness, no, they were up and out to the market at seven,’ she said. ‘They always like to buy their vegetables fresh from the vendors rather than the big supermarkets. They’ll have gone down to St Tropez to the fishmonger first.’

  ‘How long will they be?’

  ‘Maybe a couple more hours.’ She walked out, then paused in the doorway. ‘She is a child you know, sir. I blame Justin. He’s been so domineering all her life, she looks to him for everything.’

  ‘What about their parents?’ William asked.

  ‘They died when the children were small.’

  ‘Marta,’ he said sharply, ‘tell me more. I need to know.’

  ‘They are orphans. They were educated in England, and then they returned to France. This was their childhood home. Justin bought it a few years back.’

  ‘How long have you worked for them?’

  ‘Since they were in their teens.’

  ‘Have they always lived together?’

  ‘After England, I believe so. Money used to be very short at times, but Justin always found some way to provide. I think they’ve had difficult times, especially with Laura being the way she is …’

  ‘And what way is that?’ he asked not looking at her face.

  ‘I think you know, sir.’ He detected a tone of disapproval. ‘She was the reason I stayed, even when money was short. I love both of them as if they were my own.’

  ‘Educated in England?’ William mused. ‘Any idea where?’

  Marta hesitated. ‘Their mother was French, their father English. Their father’s sister took care of them.’ The telephone rang, and Marta seemed relieved to escape. He was perplexed and wanted to ask her more about Laura but Marta returned to the room in a hurry. ‘It’s your secretary. He said it’s urgent.’

  ‘Charlie has been expelled from school,’ Michael stuttered. He had been accused of dealing in drugs. William called Katherine, his son’s mother. She took ten minutes to come to the phone. ‘William?’ It was his ex-wife’s nasal voice. ‘Where are you?’ When he told her she groaned. ‘I think you should make an effort to get here as soon as possible.’

  ‘Is he addicted?’ William asked.

  ‘He’s not spoken to me. His housemaster called and I went down. He got in with a bad crowd.’

  ‘Others have been expelled?’

  ‘No, they were local boys … I don’t really know. They found stuff in his room and his locker. He was caught in a seedy club and arrested.’

  ‘Jesus!’

  ‘I sent Daddy’s lawyer to get him bailed, and now I can’t find Charlie. I’ve called everyone I can think of. You’re his father, for God’s sake! Come and sort him out, and Sabrina too.’

  ‘Sabrina?’

  ‘Your daughter, in case you’ve forgotten. You have to go to her school parents’ day. I sent all the information to Michael. I can’t go and, as you’ve never been to one, I thought perhaps you should. I’ve not had time to think of anyone but Charlie. Cedric went into a frenzy.’

  ‘What the hell has your cousin got to do with it?’

  ‘He’s more of a father to Charlie than you ever were. I’d just like you to try and talk to Charlie. Our worry is the press’ll get hold of it. Anything linked to you seems to get us all on the front page.’

  That was rich, coming from her, William thought. Katherine sold the story of her ‘terrible life’ with him to the press for a tidy sum. ‘I’ll get the next plane out,’ he said. ‘I’ll contact you as soon as I’m home. Leave Charlie’s address with Michael, if you trace him, and I’ll see Sabrina at the parents’ day thing. But—’ Before William could add that his ex-wife had never wanted him to be at any school social event in the past, she had hung up.

  Justin charged down the stairs with William’s note. ‘The bloody idiot’s
gone back to London,’ he shouted. ‘Marta!’

  She appeared, drying her hands on a towel. ‘He got a call from his secretary and arranged to leave immediately. But he left most of his clothes here. I think he intends to come back.’

  Justin read the note again, pacing up and down the hall.

  ‘It’ll be all right, Justin,’ Laura said, trying to soothe him.

  ‘What would you know about anything?’

  ‘Don’t speak to me like I’m stupid!’

  Justin wheeled round and grabbed her arm. ‘Can’t you get this through your thick skull? We’ve lost the big fish. He’s off the hook. He’s backing out, Laura, everything we’ve planned has been a waste of time. My God! When I think of the time I’ve wasted on that buffoon.’

  Laura ran upstairs and locked herself in her bedroom, trying to ignore the thuds, shouts and crashes from below. She tried to calm herself with the thought of the diamonds William had promised her. Her fascination for them had been sparked off when she was given her mother’s engagement ring. Now she took out the little Moroccan box in which she kept her collection. Each diamond was stored individually in a black velvet bag. In a notebook she had stuck cuttings from old De Beers diamond mine catalogues, which listed the carat, cut and cutter, and the estimated value of each stone. She liked to line up the diamonds on a piece of black velvet and knew every stone by touch alone. She liked their coldness and to watch them sparkle in the light. If she ever had to leave in a hurry all she would take with her were her darlings, the diamonds. Laura knew she was secure while she had them. No one knew about them, not even Justin. It was the only secret she had ever kept from him.

  As Laura came out of her reverie, she realized that the house was quiet. She tiptoed to the door to listen, and could hear Justin crying. He was sitting hunched at the bottom of the stairs. Laura went to sit beside him and slipped an arm around his shoulder. ‘Well, that was short and sweet,’ she said softly.

  He sniffed and wiped his face with the palm of his hand. ‘It’s just that I was so looking forward to it all, you know. I’ve been planning it for eighteen months, longer.’ Laura stroked her brother’s hair. ‘I wish I’d killed that bastard Matlock when I was a kid. They couldn’t have done much about it then,’ he said quietly.

  ‘You should sleep,’ she said, easing away from him.

  Justin drew her back and held her tightly. ‘I can’t move right now. Don’t leave me.’

  ‘I’ll stay with you, always. Come on, now, let me take you to bed. You must sleep.’ She helped him stand, then took him into his own room. A single bed stood beneath the window and tucked into it was a ragged doll. He allowed her to turn back the covers, tuck him in and stay as he curled into a tight ball clutching the doll. She sang to him until he slept, then sat with him stroking his hair.

  No one saw Justin like this but Laura and, once or twice, Marta had witnessed his regression into childlike fear. When Justin was like this, he lost his bravado, his energy, and his confidence in who he was. Sometimes he lay curled up for days before he found himself again. This time, though, he joined her in the garden that afternoon. ‘I’m being a ridiculous queen.’ He laughed. ‘I’ll phone him. Maybe it’s nothing to do with us. And even if it is we’ll get him back.’

  ‘Of course we will, my darling. You just needed to rest.’

  He knelt down beside her. ‘Thank you for taking care of me,’ he whispered.

  ‘Thank you for taking care of me,’ she said, and they kissed and walked arm in arm back to the villa as they discussed their next plan of action.

  William answered the phone personally, anxious for news of his son’s whereabouts. It was a while before he could piece together what Justin was saying.

  ‘I’m going to start sending out the invitations, William. They need to go out while the mags are showing the place off, and now that Meryl knows it’s your place, it’ll be all over the—’

  William closed his eyes. ‘Justin, right now I can’t think about anything but my son. He’s in trouble.’

  ‘What’s the matter with him?’ Justin said impatiently.

  William sighed. ‘Justin, Charlie is my son and right now I can’t think about entertaining a group of people in the Caribbean. Sometimes I really don’t understand your obsession.’

  ‘My obsession?’ Justin’s voice was strained. ‘Fuck you!’

  ‘Now don’t get like that—’

  ‘I am beginning to loathe the sound of your voice. I’ve been your friend, William, probably the best friend you ever had.’

  The phone went dead, and almost immediately rang again. It was Katherine. ‘Panic over. He’s home,’ she said.

  ‘Thank God for that. Do you want me to come over and talk to him?’

  ‘Could you check out clinics and things? We should think about sending him somewhere where they know how to handle these things.’

  ‘Right, I’ll get on to it and be with you tomorrow.’

  *

  The long gravel drive crunched beneath the tyres as William’s car approached the large old manor house in Buckinghamshire. It had five acres of garden, a large paddock and a swimming-pool. As he drew up outside the front porch, two Labradors with muddy paws growled and padded off. William had never liked dogs.

  His ex-wife was even paler than he remembered and age had not been kind to her. Her hair was tied back in a bun at the nape of her neck, and wisps of hair hung around her face. She was wearing a pink twinset, a tweed skirt and Gucci loafers. His emerald and diamond engagement ring was still on the third finger of her left hand.

  ‘He’s in the bath. He was filthy,’ Katherine said, pouring herself a large sherry and offering the bottle to William. He shook his head, and wondered why she was drinking so early in the day. ‘I can’t get any sense out of him.’ She paused. ‘You look odd. What on earth have you been doing to yourself? It’s your hair, you look awful. The Bellinghams have been on the phone,’ she went on. ‘They understand what I’m going through. Oliver was on some drug or other when he committed suicide. Lord B was saying that Ollie went to a rehab place in Cornwall. I asked him to talk to Charlie, give him all the grisly details, try to scare him into straightening out.’

  ‘I’ll pay,’ he said, with a resigned sigh.

  ‘Of course you will.’ She got up to refill her glass. ‘It’s already in the headlines. Have you seen it? “Terrible Tycoon’s son in drugs raid.” The press have been phoning here. Have they contacted you?’

  ‘No,’ he said warily.

  ‘He’s got to go before a magistrate. He was selling the stuff. No doubt the press will be in court.’

  ‘Probably,’ he said quietly. Then he asked, ‘Why did you talk to the papers, give them that load of bullshit about me?’

  ‘You deserved everything they threw at you!’ She turned on him, her thin lips set in a tight line. ‘I had them hanging round the house for days and it was the only way I could get rid of them. If you think I liked having my name, my children’s name, dragged through the gutter press then you’re very much mistaken.’ She was on a roll. ‘And if you think that this problem with Charlie isn’t anything to do with your shenanigans, then you’re wrong. It all stems from you and that wretched Maynard. Is it any wonder he’s gone off the rails?’ William didn’t rise to the bait. ‘I have never been so humiliated. I couldn’t even walk into the village. And it looks like you haven’t learned your lesson. You look like mutton dressed as lamb. That haircut!’

  He felt his temper rising, but kept his mouth shut. ‘You were a laughing stock and we all had to pay for your antics. Then flaunting yourself with that lesbian! You have no idea what harm you caused my family.’

  ‘Katherine, you were paid handsomely for your contribution to my downfall. Lucky for you, I didn’t go right down. The business stayed firm so I was still around to pay your bills.’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ she screamed. ‘Money! That’s all you ever thought about. Money and sex.’

  At that moment Charlie appeared,
a half-smile on his lips. ‘Ah, happy families. I’d forgotten how it used to be!’

  William watched the thin, pale-faced boy saunter into the room and sit on the arm of the settee, his skinny legs protruding from a towelling bathrobe. ‘Katherine, I’d like to talk to Charlie alone.’

  She flounced out, slamming the door behind her.

  Charlie dug into his pocket, took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, his hands shaking.

  ‘So you’ve cocked up,’ William said quietly. ‘You were caught selling drugs, you are to go before a magistrate and you could end up in prison.’

  ‘Doubt it. It was only a few tabs and I’m a first offender, under age and all that. They’ll let me off with a fine and a few months’ probation.’

  His upper-class drawl grated on William. ‘What are you on?’

  ‘What am I on?’ Cigarette smoke drifted from his lips. ‘What are you offering?’

  ‘I’m your father. Show some respect, Charlie.’

  ‘That’s terrific coming from you, Pa. Any woofters slashed their wrists over you recently?’

  William took a deep breath and held on to his temper. ‘I’ll pay for you to go to a rehab centre. If you don’t agree, then you get no money and neither will your mother nor your sister. I’ll force them to take me to court and I’ll drag the lot of you through the press.’

  ‘I don’t give a shit about your money.’

  ‘You’re throwing your life away if you give in to drugs. It’s stupid, and you are not stupid.’

  Charlie patted his pocket for another cigarette.

  ‘So will you go to a clinic?’

  ‘Yep.’

  For a brief moment William wanted to hug his son, but he couldn’t make the move. Charlie lit the cigarette with nicotine-stained fingers. He was close to tears but trying hard not to show it. As William moved to the door he said, ‘You were never around when we needed you, or when I needed you. But in some ways I understood it was Mother’s doing. She loathes you. Even at Christmas she hated it when you sent us presents. Sometimes she wouldn’t let us open them.’