12

IT WAS EVIDENT from the moment they began winding their way up through the lush, steeply sloping gardens of the Hotel Colombe d’Or in St Paul-de-Vence that they were heading towards an infinitely more elegant and salubrious affair than any of the barbecues or wild bashes Louisa and Sarah had attended so far. The soirée was being held in the grand, stone-columned pergola which was covered in a verdantly juicy vine with huge, succulent grapes dangling like lanterns over a sea of politely smiling faces that moved with swan-like grace between the decorously cascading fountains and vivid flowers. The low rumble of male voices occasionally pierced by the falsetto ring of female laughter spiralled languidly with the expensive perfumes and cigar smoke towards the crumbling ramparts of the town above and the magnificent blue sky beyond.

There were, Sarah estimated, around fifty people present, most of whom appeared middle-aged or older. Along with the flowers the women’s bright sequinned dresses created lively splashes of colour in a forest of sombre black dinner jackets, making Sarah pleased with her choice of a royal blue silk dress that matched her eyes perfectly. It had a tight-fitting skirt that flared in neat, shiny pleats around her knees and wide shoulder straps that were plaited down the length of her back. She’d bought the dress specially for tonight, having dragged Louisa along the rue d’Antibes all morning until she’d found exactly what she was looking for. Her sleek, ash-blonde hair framed her sunny face in a loose, swinging bob and shone like silver.

Beside her Louisa looked either exotically boyish or impossibly feminine – Sarah couldn’t make up her mind which – in a thigh-length cerise silk jacket, tight black mini skirt and a perky black bow tie. And Erik was just scrumptious, as she’d told him when they’d wandered over to Jean-Claude’s to find him in his exquisitely tailored tuxedo.

‘Did you remember to wash behind your ears?’ Sarah murmured to Louisa as they hovered on the edge of the crowd, waiting for Morandi to spot them.

Louisa gave a splutter of laughter as her luminous eyes scanned the gathering with interest. ‘Did you remember your breath freshener?’ she answered from the corner of her mouth.

‘Oh my God!’ Sarah gasped, covering her mouth. ‘Don’t tell me I need it, please, I’ll die.’

‘No,’ Louisa laughed shaking her head and watching Erik who was blithely helping himself to three glasses of carefully chilled Sancerre from a waiter’s tray. ‘Here’s Morandi,’ she added, nodding her head towards where he was striding purposefully through the crowd.

‘Wow!’ Sarah muttered, her eyes widening. Apart from looking quite disarmingly rakish in his DJ, he seemed somehow taller, more composed and confident than he had in his sweltering and cluttered office.

He was on the point of greeting them, his lean face alight with pleasure, when he hesitated, obviously bemused by Erik who was passing them drinks. Sarah moved forward to make the introductions, but of course Morandi knew who Erik was. It came as something of a surprise though to discover that Erik knew Morandi too.

‘We have several mutual friends,’ Erik explained, laughing at their confusion. ‘You must know by now that the world of show business is a very small one.’

Sarah refrained from asking how someone in Erik’s position might have come to meet someone in Morandi’s for she didn’t want to offend Morandi, so instead she turned a beaming smile on Morandi which to her delight made him blush.

He’d called Sarah early that morning to check that she would be coming, which was what had prompted the shopping spree, and seeing the bashful coquetry steal into Sarah’s clear blue eyes as Morandi smiled foolishly down at her, Louisa took Erik’s arm and they melted discreetly into the crowd.

Erik was able to introduce her to several people and Louisa felt a pleasant kick of adrenalin wash through her to hear so much talk of pre- and post-production and who was doing what on the international scene. Equally cheering was to discover how many people had heard of her and her series, though since it had sold all over the world it shouldn’t have been quite such a surprise. Nevertheless it was and for the first time Louisa started to realize how very parochial she was in her thinking and her understanding of matters beyond the shores of the UK. It was embarrassing to hear so many foreign tongues with such an eloquent grasp of English when she could barely muster more than a dozen words of French and none whatsoever in any other language. It wasn’t that anyone seemed to mind, but the ease with which they switched from one language to another and clearly moved so freely about Europe made Louisa acutely aware of her island mentality.

‘I know what you mean,’ Sarah grimaced during a snatched moment together. ‘But it’s making me feel frightfully international, isn’t it you?’

Louisa laughed. ‘Yes, it is a bit and I quite like it. Did you meet the woman from Star TV in Hong Kong? She’s been the head of more TV stations in Asia and Australia than Rupert Murdoch.’

‘Hi, how are you two doing for wine?’ Erik interrupted.

‘I think we could do with a top-up,’ Sarah answered, lifting her glass to check it. ‘I was just talking to some Dutch guy whose name I can’t pronounce,’ she went on as Erik turned to find a waiter, ‘who tells me that his company have just bought Private Essays.’

Both Louisa and Sarah grinned, then licked and flicked a forefinger.

‘How are you getting on with Morandi?’ Louisa asked, turning to gaze down over the sweeping view of the valley below.

‘Oh, I think he could be the father of my children,’ Sarah replied breezily, making Louisa laugh. ‘Actually, I haven’t seen him for a while, have you?’

Louisa shook her head, looking around the terrace. ‘Oh, there he is.’ She pointed through the crowd to where Morandi was standing with one foot resting on the edge of the fountain talking to two people Louisa had met but whose names she had forgotten.

Spotting Louisa and Sarah looking in his direction, Morandi politely excused himself and came to join them just as Erik returned.

‘Ah, can I get you a drink too?’ Erik offered.

‘Uh-huh,’ Morandi answered, ‘I’m OK for now. Are you having a good time?’

‘Fascinating,’ Sarah assured him. ‘You know so many people.’

Morandi seemed to enjoy the compliment almost as much as he did looking at Sarah. ‘I confess I am showing off a little,’ he told her. ‘But I did not want you to think that my life was only what you saw at my office. And I hope that maybe you have met some people who might be of some help to you in the future. Which reminds me, Louisa,’ he added, stepping towards her to allow someone to pass behind him, ‘I would like to introduce you to the famous Gaston Olivier.’ He turned to survey the crowd. ‘Ah, there he is over there, I will go and speak to him.’

‘Gaston Olivier?’ Louisa repeated to Sarah with not much hope of enlightenment.

‘Gaston Olivier,’ Erik laughed, ‘is a Parisian banker, very well known in film and television circles for backing outsiders and romping home with a fortune.’

‘Which one is he?’ Sarah asked, craning her neck to look past the group standing next to them.

‘The one standing at the top of the steps,’ Erik told her. ‘There, Morandi is shaking his hand.’

A few minutes later Gaston Olivier, a man in his late fifties with flamboyant eyebrows and a wide, juicy bottom lip that rose to tuck in his top lip before drooping towards the splendid wart on his chin, had been plucked from the centre of his cronies and was at Louisa’s side while Sarah and Erik were being swept into another elite little gathering by Morandi.

This was turning into quite an exhilarating evening, giving Louisa the feeling that she was at last emerging from a shell of small-minded Britishness that she hadn’t even known she was trapped in. Not only that, being among so many stimulating people whose interests ran along the same tracks as hers and whose enthusiasm and energy for what they did was managing to rub itself off on her had left her mercifully free of all thoughts of Jake. Well, perhaps not totally free, for the image of Danny soaking in a perfumed bath awaiting Jake’s arrival along with some exotic dish simmering in the oven and a set of outrageously daring underwear laid out on the bed kept sneaking its way into her mind. But there was more to life than an obsession with a man she barely knew and it was high time she shook herself out of it.

Gaston Olivier had all the inherent charm of a Frenchman and Louisa fell instantly under its spell, blushing modestly when he told her how delighted he was to meet the creator of Private Essays and showing real eagerness to hear about Louisa’s plans for future productions. From the corner of her eye Louisa saw Sarah and Morandi taking a private moment together, talking softly, smiling, laughing and seeming very much to want to be elsewhere. After a while Morandi moved reluctantly away as someone called to him and Erik took Sarah by the arm, evidently in need of being rescued from a stout, over-zealous female with a veritable bush of fiery red hair and such a busy rash of freckles they looked almost contagious.

Louisa was still talking to Olivier some twenty minutes later when Erik wandered over to join them. It was immediately evident how fond of Erik Olivier was, as was almost everyone who knew Erik, Louisa had noticed. And the little group they made up seemed to become something of a Mecca for the other guests as they made their way over to speak to Olivier and Erik and, to Louisa’s delight, to her too.

Standing alone for a moment Sarah took a sip of her wine as her eyes travelled around the terrace in search of Morandi. He was a strange, paradoxical man, vacillating as curiously and touchingly between shyness and confidence as he did between English and Italian. She longed to ask him who he really was, how he had come to be here on the Côte d’Azur and why he was hiding behind a persona she had the distinct impression he wanted her to see through. But so far the opportunity hadn’t arisen, there had been too many people around, too many interruptions and besides, she wanted to give him the chance to tell her himself without any prying encouragement from her.

Seeing him turn sharply away from Aphrodite over in a shady corner, Sarah smiled uneasily and would have gone to join Erik and Louisa had Morandi not turned towards her, the anger melting in his eyes as he saw her.

With so many invitations being thrown out for dinner Louisa was laughing and looking at Erik for help, but with a playful wink he allowed her to make the decision. She accepted Olivier’s, assuming that Erik would too. However it seemed that Erik had other plans as he drew Louisa aside saying, ‘You are quite safe with Gaston and I think Morandi and Sarah will probably join your party too, so I shall leave you shortly to go back to see Danny.’

Louisa’s eyes widened with alarm. ‘Uh, well, actually,’ she said, hunting around for Sarah, ‘I’d really like you to come.’

Erik grinned.

‘No, really, I would,’ she insisted.

‘But Danny is all alone and you are having such a good time, you don’t need me,’ he told her.

Oh God, Louisa was thinking, what could she say to keep him there? And where the heck was Sarah?

Erik looked at his watch.

‘Just have one more drink before you go,’ Louisa said encouragingly.

Erik shook his head. ‘No, I have had enough,’ he answered, ‘and I really would like to leave now. Please, forgive me.’

‘But you’re taking us home,’ Louisa protested.

‘Gaston will be happy to take you home. Or Morandi,’ Erik responded, his brilliant blue eyes dancing with laughter.

‘Look, Erik, really, I don’t think you should go,’ Louisa said awkwardly, realizing that she was doing this more for him than she was for Danny. ‘I mean, women don’t really like it when men turn up unannounced. She might have a face pack on or …’

‘I would adore her even in a face pack,’ Erik laughed.

‘But Danny wouldn’t like it and honestly, she really did want to have an early night.’

‘Then I shall join her,’ he said decisively.

Dear God, there was no easy way of telling him this, but it was better, Louisa told herself firmly, that he found out from her rather than have to go through the awfulness of walking in on Jake and Danny. ‘Erik,’ she began, ‘I’m really sorry to be the one to tell you this, but … Well, you see, Danny isn’t exactly alone this evening, she’s uh, entertaining someone, a friend!’

Laughing, Erik shook his head and looking at his watch again he said, ‘Jake is by now on his way to Mexico City. He will have boarded the plane in Paris a few hours ago.’

Louisa’s luminous eyes rounded. ‘You know Jake?’ she said, feeling faintly dizzy.

‘Yeah, I know Jake,’ Erik grinned.

Louisa shook her head as though to clear it. ‘And you knew that Danny was expecting him tonight?’

Erik nodded, clearly enjoying himself immensely.

‘So you let her get stood up?’

‘Sort of,’ Erik confessed. ‘A few things came up late yesterday and this morning that meant Jake had to fly out in a hurry. He told me he was coming to see the photographs at your villa this evening, so he left me to make his apologies.’

‘Hang on, hang on, I’ve got to think about this,’ Louisa said, her thoughts moving so fast she couldn’t trap them. ‘What you’re saying is that Jake has gone to Mexico so you knew Danny was going to be on her own, but you didn’t say anything?’

‘That’s right.’ His eyes were twinkling so merrily that Louisa couldn’t help but laugh.

‘But I thought you were crazy about Danny,’ she said.

‘I am. But it won’t do her any harm to have that beautiful nose of hers put out of joint once in a while, I’m sure.’

‘Oh God,’ Louisa laughed, ‘I’m glad she can’t hear you because Danny’s not particularly used to people getting one over on her.’

Erik shrugged.

‘Did Jake know that Sarah and I weren’t going to be there?’ Louisa asked after a pause.

‘No. He thought you would be. I didn’t tell him anything different, he had a lot on his mind at the time.’

Louisa wondered about that for a moment then said, ‘So why has he gone to Mexico?’

Erik’s eyes narrowed as he looked into hers. ‘He has some business to attend to there,’ he answered with a caution that wasn’t at all lost on Louisa.

‘Is he coming back?’

‘Probably.’

Louisa smiled ruefully. ‘I can see that I’m not going to get much out of you,’ she said. ‘But I get the feeling that you know what’s going on. And something is, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. But it’s up to Jake to tell you and to be frank I don’t think he will.’

Louisa’s heart folded around the disappointment. ‘Doesn’t it bother you that Danny’s sleeping with Jake?’ she said.

Erik laughed. ‘She’s not. At least tonight she’s not and since I only met her yesterday I’m in no position to judge her for things she did before I knew her, now am I?’

‘No, I don’t suppose you are,’ Louisa responded. As she lowered her eyes she looked so unhappy that Erik lifted her face back up to his.

‘For what it’s worth,’ he said, ‘I’m pretty certain Jake will be back. When, is hard to say, but this is one hell of a time for you to come into his life. He’s not too pleased about it and if you knew why you wouldn’t be too pleased either.’

‘It’s got something to do with Consuela Santini, hasn’t it?’ Louisa asked, probing.

‘It’s got everything to do with Consuela Santini,’ Erik replied soberly.

‘And Mario Morandi?’

Erik glanced across the terrace to where Morandi was talking to Aphrodite. ‘Indirectly, yes,’ he answered. Then bringing his eyes back to Louisa he said, ‘You’ve got yourselves into a real hornet’s nest here and if I were you I’d …’

‘Hi, you two,’ Sarah butted in, ‘what are you looking so secretive about? I’ll tell Danny,’ she warned wagging her finger at Erik.

Erik laughed. ‘Speaking of whom,’ he said, ‘I feel the telegraph wires of love a-humming so I’m off.’

‘What!’ Sarah gasped, looking frantically at Louisa. ‘But you can’t do that. You’ve …’

‘He can,’ Louisa interrupted. ‘I’ll explain later.’

‘Ah, Morandi, just the fellow,’ Erik said as Morandi joined them. ‘I’m sure I can rely on you to see these two ladies home safely, can’t I?’

‘But of course,’ Morandi agreed, smiling at Sarah who was gazing up at him through a rosy flush of alcohol. ‘Just a quick word before you go, Erik,’ Morandi said, taking Erik to one side.

‘What’s going on?’ Sarah whispered to Louisa.

‘That I can’t answer, but what I can tell you is that Erik is a friend of Jake’s. A very good friend, from what I can make out.’

‘Really?’ Sarah said, sounding interested. ‘So he knows Jake is with Danny tonight? Oh God, don’t tell me they’re sharing her, some women get all the luck.’

Louisa pursed her lips. ‘Apparently,’ she said, glancing towards the upper terrace as a group of diners exploded into laughter, ‘Jake is on his way to Mexico,’ and she went on to fill Sarah in on the conversation she’d just had with Erik.

‘Mmm, the plot thickens,’ Sarah remarked when Louisa had finished.

‘And thickens,’ Louisa added spotting Aphrodite surging towards them through the crowd.

‘What?’ Sarah said, turning to see who Louisa was looking at. ‘Ah, Aphro …’ She gasped as a glass of red wine hit her full in the face.

‘Bitch!’ Aphrodite hissed glaring at Sarah with wild, malevolent black eyes, and turning on her heel she stalked majestically back across the terrace in a flurry of red lace.

‘The cow!’ Sarah seethed, taking the napkins Louisa had scooped from a nearby table. ‘What did she do that for?’

‘You have to ask?’ Louisa muttered.

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ Morandi fussed, taking the napkins and dabbing the inky red liquid from Sarah’s face. ‘Your beautiful dress, she is ruined. But I will buy you another.’

Everyone was looking in their direction so Sarah turned her back in disgust and fury. ‘How the hell am I going to walk out of here looking like this?’ she raged. ‘What’s the matter with the woman? Is she crazy or something?’

‘She has a very passionate nature,’ Morandi said apologetically.

‘I’ll get the car and bring it to the front,’ Erik chipped in helpfully.

Sarah looked down at her lovely new dress and wanted to weep. ‘Well, I won’t be going anywhere for dinner now,’ she said tightly.

‘Please, let me drive you home,’ Morandi implored.

‘No, thank you, I don’t fancy the idea of a bomb being flung through the letter-box,’ Sarah retorted angrily.

Morandi looked crushed.

‘Maybe you could go and keep an eye out for Erik and let us know when he arrives,’ Louisa suggested, dipping a napkin into her white wine and using it to try and absorb the red wine in Sarah’s hair.

‘Where did she go?’ Sarah seethed. ‘I want to kill her.’

‘I think she left,’ Louisa answered. ‘Shit, she’s made a right mess of you. Your hair’s turning purple.’

‘Why the hell did he invite me if he was bringing her too?’ Sarah demanded. ‘Does he get off on her jealousy or something?’

‘He looked pretty upset about it actually,’ Louisa placated.

‘So he damned well should. Where’s Erik? I feel a right idiot standing here like this.’

Louisa bit her lips. ‘Actually, you look a bit of one,’ she remarked.

‘Thanks!’ Sarah snapped, but the glint in her eyes told Louisa that her indomitable humour was on the return.

‘Erik’s here,’ Morandi said, coming up behind them. ‘Please, take my jacket,’ he said quickly stripping it off and draping it over Sarah’s shoulders.

Since Erik had taken his car to the front of the hotel they had no choice but to leave through the terrace restaurant. As they reached it Louisa took hold of Sarah saying, ‘OK, just put your head down, cover your face with your hands and leave the rest to me.’

‘What?’ Sarah said, gulping as Louisa shoved her head down.

‘Emergency!’ Louisa shouted, ushering Sarah forward. ‘Make way! Make way! We have an emergency!’

The astonished diners looked up from their tables, staring with bloodthirsty interest as Louisa and Sarah dashed past the Léger mural towards Cesar’s giant sculpture of a thumb beside the door and hurled themselves into the back of a waiting Jaguar.

It wasn’t until they were speeding through the winding back roads towards Valanjou that Sarah realized that neither of them had said goodbye to Morandi and that she was still wearing his jacket.

‘Never mind, it gives you a good excuse to call him,’ Louisa pointed out.

‘Yes, yes it does, doesn’t it?’ Sarah said, obviously cheered by the thought.

‘So you’re not angry with him any more?’

‘Depends what he does to make amends,’ Sarah said with relish.

Erik laughed, then swerved dangerously around a giant pothole in the road. Since his driving was worthy of any Frenchman or even Italian come to that, they were home within twenty minutes.

‘Aren’t you coming in?’ Sarah said when he stopped at the bottom of the drive, confused because she’d assumed he was driving like a maniac to get to Danny sooner.

‘Actually I’m rather hungry,’ he answered, ‘so I’m going to see if Jean-Claude has eaten yet and if not we shall go to the village for dinner. Would you care to join us?’

Louisa and Sarah looked at each other. ‘Yes, I think we would,’ Louisa answered, smiling.

‘Just give me a few minutes to clean up and change,’ Sarah said, ‘and we’ll be right with you.’

They were already out of the car and starting up the drive when Louisa turned back and said, ‘Uh, what about Danny?’

‘In case you hadn’t noticed,’ Erik answered mildly, ‘her car isn’t there.’

Louisa and Sarah turned to look.

‘Ah,’ Sarah said awkwardly.

‘I think we can all guess where’s she’s gone,’ Erik smiled. ‘Leave her a note if you like asking her if she would care to join us when she returns. We’ll go to La Table Gourmand. I’ll be at Jean-Claude’s when you’re ready.’

‘Looks like Danny might have met her match,’ Sarah muttered with a grin as she and Louisa started back up the drive.

‘Doesn’t it?’ Louisa responded.

‘Are you going to tell her that Erik is a friend of Jake’s?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Very wise,’ Sarah smirked. ‘You know, I think I’m going to rather like Erik Svensson.’

‘Mmm, me too,’ Louisa smiled.

Danny was crying. Silently, unmovingly, unblinkingly. The small, yellow light in the master cabin cast the spidery shadows of her eyelashes over her delicate face. The tears flowed freely from her tormented eyes, spilling onto the pillows as she gazed blindly at the black circle of the porthole. Outside the waves splashed indolently against the hull of the Valhalla, above the giant masts clanked and the wooden deck creaked as someone moved stealthily across it.

It was the final shot of the scene. The camera was tracking slowly back from her face revealing the man in the bed beside her, sleeping peacefully, one arm thrown across his chest the other squashed beneath his head. A single tousled white sheet covered them both, but a perfect female leg lay exposed on the bed, just as the raw emotion lay exposed in her eyes.

This was the most delicious living out of her fantasies she’d had in ages. She was captive on board, unable to escape, only able to do her master’s bidding, to satisfy his needs, to suffer the humiliation and feel a part of herself die each time he abused her. He had no idea of the love that flourished so deeply in her heart, of the desire he aroused in her, of the pain his indifference and cruelty caused her. He saw only her terror, did all he could to incite it, passed her amongst his crew for their pleasure, never witnessing the violations but hearing of them later and watching her with baleful, mocking eyes that slaked her body with contempt. How could her heart be so treacherous as to make her love a man who treated her so?

The scene faded to black and Danny turned on her side. The aura of memory tingled over her and she pushed a hand between her thighs. Sleeping with Jake’s crew was no hardship but to sleep with Jake was what she really wanted. She’d known that first time, when he’d finished with her then laughed and told her she didn’t look like a whore, what he’d wanted of her, what role he was casting her in and she was more than happy to play it – at least as long as it suited her she was. And right now it was suiting her just fine, the only question was, how to get him away from Louisa? Still, with Louisa’s unerring talent for choosing the wrong man it shouldn’t prove too difficult to convince her she’d done it again. Which, as far as Danny was concerned, Louisa had for there was no doubt in Danny’s mind that Jake was as skilled a deceiver as he was a lover. It might be easier to persuade Louisa though if Danny could tell Louisa just what it was that Jake was hiding, for he was hiding something, that Danny knew for a certainty. So far she hadn’t even been able to guess at what it might be and neither could she get as much as a murmur from Bob who was lying beside her now, snoring softly, with whatever Jake’s secret was locked securely, unattainably in the deepest recesses of his mind. But she would find out what was going on, she would find someone to tell her and maybe, she thought, not for the first time, that someone was Consuela.

As for Erik, there was nothing she could do to stop him falling in love with her. She knew he would because he was like all the others, though she had to confess she liked him a bit more than she’d liked the others. But Jake was different. Instinct told her that his complicated, insidious and ambiguous soul was a reflection of her own. With her he had no need to disguise his cruelty, or his treachery, he could vent it as freely as he wished for whatever he was feeling, whatever he desired, whether it be violence, tenderness, hatred or love she could always summon the exact same emotion to embrace it. In other words she could handle a man like Jake, Louisa couldn’t.

Feeling Bob’s hand on her shoulder Danny rolled onto her back and turned to look into his bleary, bloodshot eyes. The stirring savagery of lust was starting to curl his mouth and throwing back the sheet he pointed at his groin and ordered her astride him. As she drew herself up Danny could feel herself beginning to slide into the character of her fantasy. A frightened, pleading look rose in her eyes as she knelt over him, preparing to impale herself on his solid, angry erection. Her last, conscious thought as the captive slave girl eclipsed her, was to wonder again what it was that had taken Jake Mallory so suddenly to Mexico.