by Jules Wake
She leaned past him and picked up one of the still-warm foil-enveloped brioche buns filled with the local fine bacon, dabbed with Maille wholegrain mustard.
With a sigh, she shook her head. She’d set this up as an apology and to try and win him over, thinking she’d have to do some serious grovelling. As usual, Richard had managed to confound her by being gracious and his child-like happiness with a simple item of food. But it had always been like that. He’d never quite done what she’d expected and once she’d been the same. Life had been a constant adventure. They’d been well-suited.
Like a magician unveiling her final headline trick, she dug into a different bag.
‘I brought you beer.’ She handed him over a bottle of London Pride. She leaned back against the dashboard, the last of her tension seeping away as the lines around his eyes crinkled in quick delight.
‘You’re amazing.’ He laughed. ‘Proper beer and bacon butties on a speedboat in the middle of the sea.’ He threw back his head and chuckled. ‘Everyone else for miles around is on the caviar and champagne.’
‘I know what you are …’ he hadn’t changed that much, ‘like. You were always powerless to resist a bacon butty. If you’d refused to get on board, that would have been plan B. Wave it under your nose until you followed.’
‘What, like a dog?’ He gave another shout of laugher. ‘It would have worked too. He stuck out a hand. ‘Friends it is.’
Ignoring the jolt in her stomach, she took his hand and shook it. ‘Friends.’
Grabbing a butty and joining him on the seat, the boat bobbed as they munched together in mutual silence. ‘Tell me about these skills? Have you really been trained to be a Ninja assassin? Do they get the Secret Service in to tell you how to do it all properly? All that ten four, the eagle’s in the wind and get me a secured comms unit.’
Richard took a swig of beer. ‘I’m afraid that’s classified information and if I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.’ In that actor’s way, his body language shifted slightly and he seemed harder-edged and awfully like one of his characters Jason Hendricks from A Conspiracy of Men.
‘Do know how to break someone’s neck?’
‘Yes.’
‘And sever their femoral artery?’
‘Yes.’
She twisted her hands together. ‘That’s …’
‘Of course. I also know how to lie through my teeth during intense interrogation.’ His mouth curved upward in sudden glee and the subtle changes to his frame vanished as he became Richard again.
‘You!’
He shook with laughter.
‘Did you really have a gun?’ He frowned. ‘I couldn’t figure out what on earth it was in my back.’
She let out a gurgle of laughter.
‘No. I’ve got,’ she pulled it out from her jeans, ‘an ice-cream scoop and I’m not afraid to use it.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The pink dress shimmered in the low light in the bedroom, it’s beautiful cut emphasising the tanned column of her throat and the flattering colour complementing her skin tone, which over the weeks had turned a gorgeous honey- golden brown. She’d left her hair loose, not to please Richard, but for herself, enhancing the curls with the application of a little dressing wax. The sun had lifted the colour and rich copper highlights snaked in and out of the ringlets raining down her back.
She took another long, nervous look in the mirror and then told herself off. She should be excited, mixing with the glitterati in a gorgeous dress, an amazing opportunity she might never get again. Hell, yes. With a final twirl and one last peek at her reflection, she smoothed the silky fabric down her hips and lifted her chin. No, she felt bloody brilliant in this dress.
As the host, Richard would be busy with all his VIP guests. She, Angela, Jade and their trusty fourth, Phil, would no doubt sit in a corner admiring the finery of the other guests.
Oh and didn’t that sound woefully Cinderella and big chip-on-the-shoulder territory? Tonight’s adventure offered a bird’s-eye view into another world and a huge treat, especially for Jade, who had been beside herself all day, desperate to know if Carrie had any idea who might be there aside from Savannah Murray and the rest of the cast.
An overhead whirring distracted her with its insistent airborne whine, which she couldn’t quite place. Slipping on her watch, she picked up her clutch bag. The lift they’d been promised was cutting it fine, although this was the sort of the party to which arriving fashionably late was a given.
The sound intensified, coming from above the house now. Carrie ran over to the window as she heard her niece calling, ‘Carrie, Carrie,’ through the house.
A brilliant spotlight shone down on the flat lawn beyond the swimming pool, getting bigger and bigger. The shrubs around the edge blew back, straining to keep their purchase on land, pushed to the very limit of their grip by the down- blast of the wind from the helicopter hovering above and slowly coming down, squatting into place.
Wouldn’t you know it? She’d wondered about that lawn and now she knew why it needed to be flat. Carrie hurried downstairs to join her sister and Jade on the terrace. All three of them staring open-mouthed at the royal-blue helicopter, looking rather like an exotic dragonfly perched on their lawn, the blades still whirring in a blur of movement.
‘Oh my days.’ Angela turned wide-eyed to Carrie. ‘This is for us?’
‘Can you believe it?’ Jade had her phone out and her hand shook as she tried to get pictures. ‘Eliza is going to go wild when she sees this.’
He’d done it again. Carrie burst out laughing. ‘I love it. A helicopter. Whatever will he do next?’
‘Richard sent this? Its sick,’ said Jade.
‘No, it was George Clooney. Or, wait, it could have been Brad Pitt. I forget. You know, being acquainted with lots of the rich and famous.’
Jade nudged her. ‘Ha! Ha! You’re so funny. Not.’ Her niece stopped and gave her an appraising look. ‘But, hello mama,’ she deepened her voice in rapper mode and added with a cheeky wink, ‘You look hot.’
‘High praise indeed, brat. You don’t look too bad yourself.’
Jade twisted her face in a half-smile. ‘I had to put my nail varnish on three times because I kept messing it up and my hair wouldn’t go and I think my bum looks a bit saggy and —’
‘Jade, shut up. You look gorgeous.’
Angela exchanged a knowing smile with Carrie. Nothing they said would make any difference because what on earth did they know about anything?
‘Hmph.’ Jade tossed her spaghetti-straight hair, the GHDs had been doing sterling overtime, making it clear that Carrie’s opinion carried about as much weight as that of the family cat, if not less. ‘Are we going or not?’
Angela hesitated, eyeing the helicopter with trepidation. ‘I’m not sure. Aren’t they terribly dangerous? You’re always hearing about helicopter crashes.’
‘Muuum!’ howled Jade. ‘We might never get to go in one again.’
A familiar figure jumped down from the cockpit and, ducking under the blades in a crab-like run, came towards them, clutching a brace of headphones.
‘Come on, ladies, your carriage awaits,’ said Phil, looking rather dapper in a blue blazer, shining with gold buttons, and well-pressed trousers.
Angela hung back but Phil whispered something in her ear and to Carrie’s surprise, she let out a very dirty laugh.
He handed them each a set of earphones. ‘It gets pretty noisy in there. If you plug this jack in, you’ll be able to hear the pilot talking to us.’
Strapped in, with a stomach full of kangaroos and the earphones wedged onto her head, Carrie gripped her knees together as the rotor blades stirred the air faster and faster, and then the cockpit lifted, hovering above the ground for a few seconds. Gradually, the blades screaming above them, the helicopter turned a slow, swaying half circle before rising and lifting right up into the sky, leaving her jumpy stomach behind. Even with her ears muffled, the sound was incredibly loud.
>
‘Good evening, ladies. I’m Roger. We’re flying east for a couple of kilometres. The trip will take no more than ten minutes. Relax and enjoy the view.’
Sitting next to her, Jade held her hand tightly and Carrie nodded at her, trying her best to summon up an encouraging expression on her face, which wasn’t easy, given that she wanted to tap Roger on the shoulder and ask him how the hell anyone was supposed to relax in a tin can with its own wind turbine on the roof.
The unnatural motion of the helicopter, as it climbed higher, was quite frankly terrifying. It felt a lot less stable than a plane but then her sole experience of flying had been in very large planes – it was hardly comparable.
This was crazy, how often was she ever going to get to do this? She leaned over to the edge of the glass bubble and forced herself to take a look down at the once-in-a-lifetime view and smiled, fascinated by the sight. Beneath them a patchwork world of roofs in rainbow shades of terracotta spread out, hidden villas nestled in dark-green vegetation, their swimming pools shining sapphire-bright while sand- coloured fields wrinkled with green lines traced the contours of the land.
Over on the horizon the sea beckoned, looking bluer than ever and as they flew closer, a jewellery store of colours beckoned, the rocky contours below the surface creating darker emerald-green shadows interspersed with paler aquamarine shallows.
She pressed her forehead to the glass, drinking in the view, almost laughing at her earlier fears. It was official, she loved travelling by helicopter.
As they slid into smooth leather seats of the chauffeur-driven limousine after transferring from the helicopter, Angela, whispered, ‘I could get use to this.’
The car purred its way along the road, taking the back route down into St Tropez and out along the narrow harbour road, with the sea on either side. After the noisy roar of the helicopter, the whisper of the engine was in stark contrast and, for some reason, the party sat in silence, not one of them saying a word until the car slid to an almost unnoticeable halt.
The driver skirted the front of the car, opened the door and one by one they filed out, each of them doing an identical one-step, look up, stop dead, combination, bumping into one another like comedy cartoon characters.
‘Oh my days.’
‘Rock and roll.’ Jade whipped out her phone.
‘Bloody hell.’ Carrie’s eyes widened as she looked up and up and up.
‘Rather impressive,’ said Phil faintly.
White lights outlined the numerous decks of the dark- blue yacht which rose like a wedding cake from the water. The reflected beams danced on the waves rippling into shore. It created a rather magical effect, softening the lines of the huge boat and making it seem like a fairy-tale vessel ready to float off to another dimension.
The first-floor deck, the biggest and the brightest, had been designated hub of the action. From there gay chatter and laughter bounced across the water’s surface and it was alive with colour and shape as people mingled and moved, the light catching on glittering necklaces, flashes of jewel- bright dresses and the glow of white shirts picked out by ultra violet.
A black-suited man with ebony skin and the sort of chiselled face that belonged in a very expensive perfume advert, barred their way. Carrie was rather fascinated by the earpiece he wore, the curly wire disappearing down the back of his jacket. Serious security.
‘Name of your party?’ Nothing was going to be allowed to crack that face. Shame, he was rather gorgeous.
A smile played around her lips, it would have been fun to try and tease a reaction from him.
‘Carrie Hayes.’
He spoke into a black strip at his wrist. All very FBI.
‘Excuse me, ma’am.’ He stepped away, turning his back on them.
When he turned to face them again, cool and impassive, he said, without any particular inflection in his voice, ‘I don’t have anyone by that name on the guest list.’
‘But we have tickets and everything,’ wailed Jade. ‘Richard invited us,’ her voice rose.
Carrie held a hand up towards her niece.
‘We were invited by Richard Mad … Try Carrie Maddox.’
He tried again. To Carrie’s satisfaction, a tiny flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes, before the smooth professional mask slid back into place.
‘Welcome Mrs … er Maddox, I believe there are also a further three in your party. Jade Hayes, Angela Hayes and Phil Hillair-Brady.’
‘That’s correct.’ Carrie inclined her head regally, a sudden thrill rushing through her.
‘I do beg your pardon ma’am for the earlier—’
She waved his words away. ‘Don’t worry. It’s not your fault.’
He ushered them to the gangplank, where a crew member dressed in a crisp white shirt and neat dark-navy shorts, waited.
‘Evening and welcome to the Solander. Please come aboard. Drinks are available on the first deck, if you go right up these stairs with my colleague here. If there is anything you need during your visit on board, please don’t hesitate to speak to one of the crew.’
Jade’s eyes already as wide as they would go, darted about, trying to take it all in. ‘I wonder who’s here,’ she muttered, bouncing on her toes. ‘Do you think any celebrities will have arrived yet? Richard will introduce us to people, won’t he? He will talk to us.’
‘I don’t know,’ replied Carrie. ‘You have to remember, he’s the host. We can’t monopolise him. Don’t expect too much.’ She looked at Jade’s flushed face, pretty sure that she’d wasted her breath.
Hopefully, she wouldn’t be bored or too disappointed or, more importantly, that none of the beautiful people here would snub the young girl. It was a safe bet to assume that there weren’t going to be many, if any, people of her age. Carrie couldn’t imagine that party small talk would interest Jade that much. At least she had her phone and no doubt taking lots of pictures for social media would keep her entertained. Ironic really. No doubt, she’d take more satisfaction out of being at the party and able to prove it, than actually enjoying it.
As Jade took another selfie, Carrie smiled at Angela. As usual, in the same way that she took everything in her stride, she was perfectly content to carry on a low-voiced conversation with Phil, almost oblivious to the excited buzz around her.
The group moved along the outer deck and up a small flight of stairs to the main deck. Jade gave an audible gasp and even Angela was moved to breathe a heartfelt, ‘Oh my.’
The patina of the polished wooden boards gave off a warm, inviting glow and around the deck pale-suede couches and seating areas had been arranged. Every occasional table held a simple candlelit white orchid arrangement, which allowed the delicate flowers to shine for themselves, while longer-stemmed orchids decorated the bar area in the centre. At the far end of the deck, a swimming pool, glowing ultramarine with submerged lighting, gave the illusion of the water dropping away into the sea.
A prickle along her skin made her turn. She spotted Richard a few feet away, a statuesque blonde next to him, her arm wound through his, where they were talking to a group of three men. Almost immediately he unhooked himself from the blonde, his co-star, Savannah Murphy, and with a discreet apology excused himself, gliding over to greet them.
Her mouth dried as he crossed the deck in a few long strides. She stopped dead. Game over. Complete capitulation. Her whole body softened in feminine appreciation, her hormones surging in joyous surrender as a delicious fizz spiralled through her veins, spilling over and over as effervescent as champagne bubbles.
The sum of all his parts doubled equated to sheer gorgeousness. The cut of the dark-grey charcoal suit emphasised those broad, straight shoulders, not a crease or crinkle marred the wool fabric. She didn’t know much about tailoring but she would guess that it had been made for him. The double- breasted jacket hung perfectly from his frame and unbidden, an image of his naked body, a very broad chest and fine hair tapering downwards, popped into her head, bringing with it a sudden flush to
her cheeks. Hot and very bothered, she focused on his crisp, cool and very sophisticated white cotton shirt complementing his tan, an all-over tan that she’d witnessed, down to that familiar heart-shaped birthmark. Stop, she told herself, staring hard at the silk handkerchief tucked into the left pocket of the suit, but every part of her buzzed with sheer damn awareness of him.
‘Good evening, ladies. Phil.’ Despite encompassing the whole party with his greeting, Richard’s eyes homed in on her and he didn’t even spare a glance for the others. ‘You look …’ he lowered his voice so that only she could hear, ‘like Carrie’.
As his husky, reverent tone shivered over her, she gripped her clutch bag, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tiny movement of her swaying on her heels. Perhaps she could blame the movement of the boat.
‘That’s Savannah Murphy, isn’t it? Gosh, she’s tall. I thought movie stars were always short-arses.’
Richard shot Carrie a quick, regretful look, making her heart miss a quick beat. ‘Language,’ reproved Angela, who was trying not to stare at a woman to their left. ‘Is that Helen Mirren?’
‘Who?’ asked Jade. ‘That’s John Baywater and Eddie thingummy and oh my God,’ she paused and clutched her stomach, swallowing, ‘its … its Fabio Stanza.’
Richard gave a brief frown.
‘You know some proper famous people,’ said Jade to Richard, nodding as if reluctantly approving. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘Thank you. One does one’s best.’
‘Do you like, know them, know them? I mean to talk to?’ Jade asked Richard, without any pretence at being coy or discreet.
He laughed. ‘A few. Who do you want to meet?’
‘Fabio.’ She clutched her hands together as she sighed his name.
‘Jade, don’t plague Richard,’ said Angela.
‘Yes, don’t be an embarrassing brat,’ said Carrie adding to her sister’s plea.
‘Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll find a few people who will impress Jade, as I obviously don’t count.’
Jade thumped him on the arm. ‘Of course you don’t count. You’re family, that’s different.’ She shot Carrie a dirty look. ‘Even if I’m not allowed to tell anybody.’