‘I’ll never be invited to anything ever again!’ Dina moaned. ‘He’ll tell everyone what you did and nobody will even speak to me.’
I waited for her outrage to subside, then said carefully, ‘Don’t you think you’re maybe overestimating how popular Torquil is?’
She threw up her hands. ‘What’s being popular got to do with anything?’
I felt my eyebrows climb, heard the trace of acid creep into my voice. ‘Would you rather I’d just let him hit you?’
Her eyes skated away from mine. ‘He wouldn’t have,’ she said, but it wasn’t me she was trying hardest to convince. She stared glumly at the sparkling toes of her evening shoes. ‘What am I going to do now? They’ll all be laughing at me.’
I regarded her for a moment. ‘So, encourage them.’
That snapped her head up. ‘What?’
‘Make light of it,’ I said. ‘Make a joke of it. Tell everyone he should be bloody grateful you were drinking champagne and not red wine or he would have looked like an extra from a Tarantino movie.’
She tried to look scandalised but couldn’t sustain it. I caught the distinct edge of a smile curve her lips, quickly squashed. The gesture reminded me of Torquil himself, when she’d given him the engraved Swiss Army knife. What was it about being rich, I wondered, that made these people so determined to be miserable?
We plodded on towards the exit gate, Dina stepping carefully over the gapped planks in her high heels. Behind us, Torquil’s two heavies followed at a suitable distance, just to make sure we really did vacate the property.
The sound of a vehicle pulling up beyond the security fence had me instantly wary. I put a cautionary hand on Dina’s arm.
‘Slow down,’ I murmured, eyes on the new arrival – a stretch Lincoln with the usual limo-black tint on the glass, riding low and heavy. From it, four obvious close-protection guys emerged with the care and technique needed for debussing from an armoured personnel carrier in a hot zone. To my mind, it was way over the top for the situation, calling unnecessary attention to the occupants, but they certainly made the existing gate security look like monkeys. Maybe that was the point.
After a long pause, during which time they stared hard at anything that moved, and at quite a bit that didn’t, one nodded to the others. The rear door of the limo opened again and a couple climbed out. They were both in their late teens or early twenties, and dressed to kill.
Alongside me, Dina gave a gasp. I guessed without being told that these two were the other kidnap victims, whose possible non-arrival had caused Torquil such anxiety. They were ushered through the gate without the usual checks and strode towards us along the planking.
The boy was short, almost squat, with dark curly hair and Mediterranean heritage written in the olive skin and the facial bones. He had on a dark dinner suit with the bow tie undone and he kept one hand in his pocket as though he’d practised the brooding-yet-casual look in the mirror before he came out.
The girl wore a voluminous sable coat, together with a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses, even in the dark. I waited to see if any of this would cause her to trip and fall into the water, but she negotiated the jetty with practised ease.
Dina froze, giving a fairly good impression of a deer in the headlights. It was only when the couple neared us that any flicker of recognition passed across the boy’s face at the sight of Dina. It was followed by a hint of contempt, and he would have swept right on past us, had the girl not stepped round him and grasped Dina lightly by her upper arms, air-kissing her on both cheeks. I suddenly saw her profile in the light for the first time, and I realised with shock that I knew exactly who she was.
‘Dina, honey!’ she said. ‘Surely you’re not leaving already?’
Yeah, Dina. Let’s go. Let’s go right now.
My attempts to will my principal into a course of action proved a failure. Dina stepped back with confused surprise on her face at the unexpected warmth of this welcome. She threw a quick glance in my direction, as if afraid of my reaction. ‘Uh, well, I—’
‘Oh, but you can’t go now,’ the girl said firmly, linking her arm through Dina’s and steering her back in the direction of the yacht club. ‘Not when this party’s just about to get interesting.’
I was pretty sure I knew what constituted her definition of interesting, and was equally positive I didn’t want to stick around long enough to make sure.
The boy gave an impatient shrug. ‘She wants to leave, let her go, Manda,’ he said, dismissive.
‘It’s not that,’ Dina said quickly, voice rising. She snatched another look at me and disengaged herself with obvious regret, swallowing. ‘Look, I’d love to stay, honestly, but maybe this isn’t a good time. Torquil and I, we had a-a falling out over a glass of champagne. I tripped and he kinda ended up wearing most of it …’ Her voice petered away at their blank expressions. She straightened her spine with a determinedly carefree little smile. ‘Lucky for him I wasn’t drinking red wine, huh?’
Manda’s eyebrows rose far enough to appear over the frames of her designer sunglasses, then she let loose a big grin that belied the cool appearance. Even the boy stopped scowling for long enough to look briefly amused.
‘Priceless,’ Manda drawled, glancing at him sideways. ‘I told you we should have gotten here earlier, Ben-Ben.’
The boy did not look like he enjoyed being called ‘Ben-Ben’ in public. ‘We’re here now, aren’t we?’ he said. ‘Where the hell’s Tor? I need a drink.’
Right on cue, I felt the planks bouncing under our feet as someone came hurrying along the jetty. I turned and saw Torquil had emerged at the far end, near the yacht club, and was approaching as fast as he could without actually running.
‘Manda! Benedict! Great to see you!’ He was trying desperately for casual, but the stress of relief came across all too clearly in the pitch and timbre of his voice. He swallowed, said more normally, ‘Glad you could make it.’
‘Hey, Tor,’ Manda said, offhand. ‘How could we miss your little party?’ She reduced all this extravagance to the level of having half a dozen kindergarten tots round for a slice of cake and a cup of flat lemonade. And just as he began to look crestfallen, she hit him with, ‘Dina was just telling us all about your silly little spat.’
Torquil flashed me a look that was part hate, part fear, but pure poison. I stared right back, keeping my face bland, and he wisely refrained from comment.
Manda eyed Torquil for a moment longer, expectantly, then turned to Dina. ‘Come on, let’s go aboard Tor’s little boat and find Ben-Ben a drink before he dies of thirst, and then you can tell us all about it.’
‘No!’ I would have objected myself, but it was Dina, to my surprise, who dug her toes in first. She realised it had come out too stark and softened it down with a smile that held genuine regret. ‘I’m real sorry, Manda,’ she said hastily. ‘But I don’t want to spoil Torquil’s birthday, so we’ll—’
‘Oh, that’s so sweet of you,’ Manda interrupted. ‘Well, honey, our limo’s still here. Tell you what, why don’t the three of us go find somewhere to have a drink? Tor won’t mind if we skip out, I’m sure.’
But it didn’t take an expert in body language to tell that Tor did mind. He minded like hell.
The two security men he’d sent to escort us out were hovering with their mouths open, unsure what to do next. The other partygoers who’d received their special invitations had emerged from the yacht club and were closing fast on their way to the Eisenberg liner, with Hunt and Orlando in the lead.
Torquil must have known that for Benedict and Manda to leave now, so soon after arriving and with Dina so publicly in tow, would be the ultimate humiliation. He only had one realistic option, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
‘It would spoil the party if you left, Dina,’ he said, with an almost credible attempt at sincerity. ‘Stay.’ I’m sure it was only shock that made her keep him waiting for a response, but he flushed at her silence and added through clenched teeth, ‘Please.’
‘I … er … yes,’ Dina said faintly. ‘Of course. Thank you, Torquil.’
He glared at her. ‘Don’t mention it,’ he said, his tone ominous. His gaze swung to me. ‘But your friend still needs to leave.’