As Lionel did a U-turn in mid-flight to head back to our temporary set-up he yelled out to me and attempted some sign language that totally flummoxed me. I just prayed that he wasn’t going to attempt any showy acrobatic tricks. At his insistent pointing to my right I finally turned – and there below, a long was off, was the city of Las Vegas. Even now, in pure daylight, bright neon lights were aglow in reds and greens. High-rise hotels jutted into the sky, as did the replicas of the Eiffel Tower and the Statue of Liberty. I clasped my hands together in delight. Lionel, who was probably aware of the impact Las Vegas had on me from this privileged bird's-eye view, hovered for a while before he shot us back across the desert valley.
***
Giddy from the helicopter journey, I stepped down weak at the knees but totally thrilled. I had a sudden urge to phone Tammy, she being the only one who would really appreciate the flabbergasting adventure I was having. In all truth she was the only one who would actually believe this wild fairytale. Anyone else would just think I’d become delirious.
“Is there anywhere I can phone from?” I asked Lionel, hardly able to contain my excitement as we crossed the car park towards the caravans. I had intended to sort myself out with a smartphone, but since my arrival I just hadn’t been given the chance to sort anything out. Apart from my hair, of course.
“Call from my place,” he offered and led me to his fantastic "home." It was five times the size of my shared combo, and came complete with bullet-proof panelling all along the outside, sturdy bodyguard, and vicious-looking guard dog. As we stepped inside, my already weak knees almost packed up on me.
In the middle of the lounge was a jacuzzi the size of my local swimming pool, spurting out frothy bubbles. Lionel even had D’Angelo humming out over the loudspeakers that were so well hidden it felt that the sexy-voiced soul singer was on the verge of leaping out of the tub. There was wood panelling all along the inside walls, and rich plush carpet lined the floor. Carpet! In a caravan! In the middle of a bloody desert! There were obviously no limits to his overindulgence.
There was more capital invested in this mobile home than I could possibly imagine. Any human activist in the world who could get their hands on this would have a field day selling it off in chunks to raise millions for those in need. Whereas little old me, well, I just moved through each section of that semi-palace in a daze. In the bedroom alone, you could put up a ping-pong table and it wouldn’t get in the way. Having waltzed me through the walk-in-and-struggle-to-find-the-exit wardrobe (not that I quite understood his desire to show me his garments), the bathroom, the fully-equipped gym and the restaurant-sized kitchen, Lionel handed me a phone and tactfully moved away.
Tammy’s voice down the line was sweet music to my ears. But I’m ashamed to admit that despite my excitement and earlier glee, I felt tears of homesickness well up.
“You’d love it over here,” I said.
But Tammy wasn’t listening to a word I was saying.
“Guess what? Great news!" She yelled down the line in what sounded like a state of pure ecstasy.
Tammy is that you? I'd never heard her so animated in my life.
“Do you remember when we went out to the country, the week before you left?” she shouted, not waiting for my reply. “And you remember that really sexy guy Robbie…?”
Oh shit! I closed my eyes, and collapsed into the swish armchair that was thankfully right behind me. Tammy was my best friend and I just knew that her next words were going to be like driving a dagger into my heart. It was going to be the first time since we'd become bosom buddies, all those years ago, that I would resent her and all her sodding great news with green-eyed envy.
The phone line began crackling, “Tammy, can you hear me?” I shouted. I could vaguely hear her over the interference, but it was impossible to make out what she was saying. Her voice suddenly came through clearer: “I’m dating him, I’m dating R…” as the connection ultimately broke and I was left staring at the phone, painfully repeating her final words in my head.
As I sat there stunned, it was some time before I realised that someone was tickling my back. I jumped and let out a scream. Foolishly I realised that there was no one behind the chair. Lionel, who must have thought I was being attacked, quickly emerged from the kitchen area with a huge Ninja sword. But the caravan soon shook with his boisterous laugh. I'd sat on the remote for the massage chair when I had flopped down and it seemed that he found this hilariously funny. In my state of heartache however, I didn’t find the situation remotely amusing, and it wasn’t long before Lionel twigged.
“Bad news from home, honey?”
He moved to take me into his strong arms, and I let him hold me, turning my head so it rested on one of his powerful shoulders. Tenderly he wiped the tears that slowly fell down my cheeks, and it was almost too much for me to bear.
I was in love with Robbie (well, probably not “in love” – I would at least have to have dated him a couple of time for that, but that was beside the point; the point was, not only was he on the other side of the world, but was now also dating my best friend), and there I was in the arms of his double, who just happened to be Hollywood’s multimillionaire playboy.
I needed to get out and clear my head. I untangled myself from Lionel’s embrace.
“Let me take you out to dinner tonight and cheer you up,” he said, his eyes troubled as he held my gaze, voice soothing. But as I stared back, all I could see was Robbie.
“NO,” I said forcefully, rudely in fact. This was quite the opposite of how I wanted to sound, but I was feeling rotten from what I'd just heard and not quite myself. I was crushed to see the look on Lionel’s face. It was obviously a real kick in the teeth for him. I was probably the first girl ever to turn him down. He'd been a real sweetheart, too. If only he didn't remind me so much of Robbie. In an attempt to soften the blow, I added, “Believe me, it's nothing personal. I just need to be by myself,” and without another word, I let myself out – dodging the guard-dog’s sharp teeth as I went.
***
The next four days went by in a bit of a daze. Lionel, apart from giving me the occasional nod in recognition, otherwise ignored my existence, and I was left rather crushed as I realised that if anyone was capable of cheering me up, he was the one. But he had obviously taken my words to heart, and was truly leaving me alone.
On the fourth day, whilst shooting another of the stunt scenes, Sandy badly twisted her ankle. She was supposed to do a free-fall from a hot air balloon, before pulling her parachute open. But the 'chute opened late, and she hit the ground at crunching speed. Amazingly she appeared to suffer nothing more serious than a sprained ankle, but was flown out to an intensive care unit to check for other, possible internal, injuries.
As a result, the director had no other choice but call for a two-day halt in the filming. Before I knew it Lionel had taken me hostage, not that I put up much of a struggle, and we were soon soaring across the desert in his throbbing helicopter.
Lionel totally ignored my probing about where he was taking me, a sassy grin playing on his lips. Giving up on trying to get an adult response, I settled back and immersed myself in the magnificent landscape below.
It wasn’t long before I viewed the shimmering blue Pacific ahead of me. The white sandy coastline stretched for miles on end. As we hovered lower I realised we were coming in to land. Touchdown was smooth, thank God, and as the propellers slowed to a standstill Lionel jumped down from the cockpit and moved around to my side to help me get out. He put his hands on my waist and looked at me, then lifted me down with ease, and despite trying to act offended at being "abducted," I couldn’t help but smile back at his goofy grin.
“Is that a smile I see?”
“That depends on what you have planned up your sleeve,” I replied, attempting (unsuccessfully) to look serious. In reality I was so excited by the sudden adventure that I'd even managed to put aside, for a while anyway, the images of Tammy and Robbie that kept haunting me.
“Do you trust me?” Lionel asked. His tone became deadly serious as he moved towards me. Instinctively I stepped back, wondering what dodgy game he had in mind. He didn’t allow me to answer, as swiftly he had me in his arms in a tight grasp. If he kisses me now, I thought, I won’t slap him – but I might just swoon.
I closed my eyes in anticipation – and before I knew it I had a blindfold wrapped around my head, covering my eyes. Lionel got hold of my hands behind my back in a firm grip and whispered in my ear, “Relax, and trust me.”
“Are you nuts?” But my struggle against him was in vain. Carefully he guided me forward. Except for the wind whistling slightly and the shuffle of my feet I couldn’t hear any other noises around to orientate me. After what seemed like forever, but probably was just a few moments, I felt a change of surface underfoot. I swayed with each step and I didn’t topple over only because Lionel still held me fast. I was soon aware of water lapping against wherever it was we were, and that there were gulls crying out overhead. Effortlessly Lionel picked me up in his arms and I held onto his neck with all my might. Oh Christ, this guy's a weirdo…He's going to throw me into the water. But a moment later he gently placed me down again. Whatever we were on swayed more and more, and when I was told to sit, I did so obediently. Cool metal was placed around my wrists and before I could land a punch and wipe out Lionel’s smirk (which, though I couldn’t see it, I was sure was there on his smug face), I'd been handcuffed. There was a sudden roaring noise all around me, and I soon had the ocean air caressing my hair as we raced along in what was obviously a speedboat.
As I sat there, salt spray grazing every pore, Lionel’s words echoed in my mind: Relax, and trust me. He should have asked if I was prone to heart attacks or suffered from high blood pressure, because my heart was thumping away uncontrollably and wouldn’t slow however much I tried to calm myself.
“Is this really necessary?” I yelled out over the deafening noise of the engine, tugging unsuccessfully to try and free my wrists. And what the hell did he have handcuffs for? I imagined, at least hoped, it was a prop he'd nicked from the set, but even so, it was a bit distorted and kinky for me. I yelled out again, but my words were swallowed up by the blustering wind, and Lionel, if he even heard me, didn't reply.
Finally the roaring motor was turned off, and the silence was almost overwhelming. The only noise was the soft lapping of the waves against the boat. I sensed Lionel sit down beside me, but he made no attempt to take off my blindfold, and I couldn't either because of those bloody handcuffs. Unable to see, my other senses were acutely tuned into any alteration in my surroundings. I was aware for the first time of the cologne Lionel wore: faintly musky, slightly spicy. There was also a new and unusual noise: a faint high-pitched squeak. Lionel, aware of the noise also, hushed me.
“Here she comes.”
He slipped off the blindfold and released my hands. I glared at him, sending him one of those if looks could kill stares. But he was calmly gazing straight ahead whilst pointing with his finger into the blue ocean before us.
Before I had a chance to vent my fury at him for shipping me blindfolded out to sea, I saw a fin emerge from the dark depths below us.
“Oh Shiiiiit, Shark!!” I flapped in a panic. Paralysed I watched as, if in slow motion, the fin approached dangerously close, but just as I was about to let out an ear-splitting scream of horror, the fin jumped two metres high into the air. Dazzled, I watched the most beautiful dolphin tumble-turn in mid-flight before diving, with breathtaking grace, back into the sapphire depths.
I was left totally speechless. Suddenly aware that Lionel was observing me I turned to look at him. His intense gaze left me weak. The corners of his sensual lips were turned in a slight smile. His deep jade eyes held mine fast. Neither of us spoke for what felt like an eternity. Gone was my earlier anger at being carted off, handcuffed, blindfolded and all. My heart was still beating wildly. I was at a loss for words. Lionel remained watching me attentively, and though he moved as if to say something, appeared to hold back. I suddenly felt shy under his passionate gaze and was the first to break eye contact.
“Will it come back?” I asked, referring to the dolphin.
“For sure,” Lionel replied. “You can even go swimming with her tomorrow if you like.”
“Tomorrow?” I repeated, and as I turned slightly became aware that we were actually tied up against a large sparkling white yacht that in my earlier panic I hadn’t noticed. Lionel helped me on deck. The yacht was just as the caravan had been, but a hundred times more so – spacious, very luxurious and tasteful. Below deck were six cabins, each fully kitted with beds or twin divans, wardrobes and private washrooms. At deck level was a fitted kitchen, fully stocked with provisions of every taste. There were two dining rooms – one indoors, the other half-shaded. There was a lounge with a TV and a reading room with a bar, plus a dance floor-cum-cocktail-reception area with another bar. On deck and above the wheelhouse were areas for lounging, sunbathing and fishing. Looking around I was in awe at how absolutely loaded Lionel must be. The insurance fees alone for this king-sized toy would trigger nightmares for most "ordinary" millionaires.
As I stood gawping at my surroundings Lionel moved into the kitchen area and said casually, “Honey why don’t you go out on deck and make yourself comfortable whilst I rustle up some grub?” Where was the crew? This thing must have needed a small navy to run. I must have thrown him a distrusting look, as he was quick to add, “That’s if you’re happy to stay. I can take you back now if you like.”
“No that’s fine.” I replied promptly. “I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to swim with the dolphin for the world,” I added hastily. I had to think of some excuse for virtually surrendering myself.
“Well I’m glad to know your only reason for remaining here with me is because you’ve fallen in love with Gigi the dolphin,” he joked. “That does wonders for my ego.”
Laughing back at him, I went outside.
It had darkened quickly, I realised. The evening stars were already glimmering, having no city lights to outshine them. The ocean air was comfortingly balmy and warm. I lay down on one of the full-length deck chairs and let myself unwind after the hair-raising events of the day. The boat gently rocked with the motion of the tide.
“What bliss.” I sighed, and promptly fell asleep.
Chapter Eight
The bright, warm morning rays were what woke me. It took me a while to get my bearings. I noticed that I was wrapped in a soft snug blanket and that a feathered pillow had been placed under my head. I could smell freshly brewed coffee. Suddenly aware of where I was, I cringed with shame. If Lionel had been slightly offended the previous night at the suggestion that my sole interest in remaining had lain with the dolphin rather than with him, I couldn’t have proved the fact more blatantly than by falling asleep whilst he slaved away in the kitchen.
Sheepishly I glanced about me to apologise to him, but he was nowhere to be seen. I was gradually conscious of splashing noises coming from overboard. In a hurry I moved to the side and peered over. There in the water were Lionel and Gigi. Lionel, on seeing me, gave a friendly wave.
“Come on in,” he yelled.
“I haven’t got my swimsuit with me.” I called back, suddenly disappointed that I wasn’t going to be able to swim with Gigi after all.
“Nor have I,” he called back. Needing no further encouragement I stripped to my underwear, thankful that I was wearing some sexy lingerie rather than my old grey cotton knickers, and dived into the turquoise ocean. It was invigoratingly fresh, and I shrieked from the cold, shock mixed with pure delight. Lionel, in several strong, firm strokes, was swiftly by my side.
“Good morning, my sleeping beauty.”
“Sorry for falling asleep like that last night,” I said, shamefaced. “And thanks for covering me with the blanket,” I added, whilst treading water, looking around at the same time for Gigi. Her high-pitched squeak soon filled the air as she emerged some ten metres away i
n a high-flying leap. She dived back into the depths without causing a ripple. With electrifying speed she surfaced right by me, head and upper part of her body out of the water, flapping with her flippers as she let out a string of shrill cries in quick bursts.
Lionel held out his hand to her and she allowed him to caress her head, as she inched her way towards him. She flipped onto her back mischievously sending a spray of water all over him. Gigi then glided smoothly in the water towards me, and nudged me playfully with her nuzzle. I reached out a hand to touch her and felt her smooth soft face as she looked at me through clear intelligent eyes. She remained still by my side for some time allowing me to stroke her, as if aware of the impact she had on me.
“Hold onto her flippers.” Lionel suggested, and I did so. Slowly at first she started to swim with me carefully clutching onto her, and then, with a powerful flip of her tail, we were charging through the ocean surface. I'd never felt so exhilarated in my life, despite choking down at least a gallon of salt ocean water. She led me in a large circle before guiding me back to the safety of the yacht. With a melon-sized smile across my face I arrived alongside Lionel. He chuckled fondly at my delight and patted Gigi tenderly. With a soaring leap into the blue sky she did one final showy flip and was gone.
Lazily I swam over to the wooden stepladder that hung overboard down the side of the boat. Just as I was about to clamber up I became aware that the name Chantelle was painted across the bow in bold letters, together with the figure of a dark-haired mermaid entwined around the inscription. I felt a shiver run down my spine that had nothing to do with the ocean water.
“That’s a bit of a coincidence, isn’t it?” I commented to Lionel as he approached.
“What is, babe?” He looked at me rather perplexed before he noticed I was staring at the inscription on the side of his boat.
“Couldn’t have chosen a better name, hey!” he joked. “I guess you're just destined for me, honey.”
A Little of Chantelle Rose Page 7