Clarissa raised herself on her elbow. She could hardly catch her breath. ‘Daddy!’ she gasped, leaning down to behold not Justin, as she had hoped, but her father.
Hangerford charged out like a crazed bull.
In the control room, Justin sat smoking a cigar, the camera still focused on the terrified face of Clarissa. Beautiful! The film would splice together perfectly. He also knew that his lordship would believe that his head had been between his daughter’s legs. He giggled. William was going to love it. Imagine releasing this to the Racing News! Better still the Jockey Club. Hangerford had certainly had quite a ride even if he hadn’t finished the race!
Chapter sixteen
William sat in the Harbour Bar with a large Scotch and water. After leaving the island he had arrived at Tortola only to discover that his flight had been cancelled due to technical problems. Overnight, a heavy mist had fallen and the next flight had been postponed until conditions improved. He wondered how things were going back at the island. He would have liked to call Justin, but knew that that would be childish. Although he himself had instigated his departure, he now had reservations. But he told himself it made sense and, besides, he knew everything would be caught on video.
Lost in his thoughts, he was surprised by a nudge on his shoulder. It was Lady Bellingham. ‘Are you stranded too?’ she asked. ‘I’m trying to see some friends off. They’ve gone to do some last-minute souvenir hunting so I thought I’d come in for a drink. It’s such a bore this hanging around.’
William was unsure whether he should offer to buy her a drink. This was, after all, the longest conversation they had ever had. Boredom must have forced her to approach him.
‘Do you mind?’ She indicated the empty chair at his table. ‘It’s always tricky, a woman alone having a drink in a bar,’ she said, sitting.
William ordered a gin and tonic and they fell into an awkward silence. He was trying to think of something to say when Lady Bellingham remarked, ‘I hear that your son Charlie has gone into rehab. An old schoolfriend of Oliver’s is in Minnesota too, and he wrote to us.’
‘Fingers crossed, he seems to be doing well.’
Another lengthy silence prevailed as she sipped her drink. Then she rattled the ice cubes around her glass nervously. ‘Oliver didn’t have a chance,’ she said, looking down into the glass. ‘His body was pumped full of Ecstasy, heroin, crack — you name it.’ She bit her lower lip. ‘I don’t know where he got it. I know there’s lots of pot around, I take it myself. But we wouldn’t let him have the hard stuff, and we kept him under pretty tight surveillance.’
William recalled the party on the night their son had died. He hadn’t noticed much ‘surveillance’. Lord Bellingham had been stoned out of his head, along with most of the guests.
A tear rolled down her cheek and dropped off her chin. ‘I’m sorry, so sorry to mention it. Let’s change the subject.’ William passed her a handkerchief. ‘I thought you’d sold up, or were about to,’ she said, wiping her face. ‘I’ve read so much about your place. We’re thinking of leaving. You must give me the name of your estate agents. They’re doing a grand job of promoting your island.’
‘Journalists,’ he said, ‘always get the wrong end of the stick. I’m not selling, quite the contrary, I love the place.’ The silence was descending again, but he found something more to say. ‘As a matter of fact I’ve lent my place to Justin Chalmers and his sister Laura while I do some work in London. I’ll just be gone a few days.’
She put her head quizzically to one side. ‘Justin Chalmers?’ she said, and seemed perplexed.
‘Designer,’ said William. ‘Did the place up for me.’
‘Is that the Justin Oliver knew?’ she asked.
William nodded. ‘Charlie talks about Oliver. He was very upset.’
Lady Bellingham put her hand on William’s, blinking back the tears. ‘I can’t talk about it, I’m afraid. If I do I’ll start weeping. It’s been quite horrible, the whole business and, er...’ She swallowed rapidly.
An announcement came over the crackly PA that the weather conditions were clearing and the airport would soon be functioning normally.
‘Oh, Lord,’ cried Lady Bellingham, rising. ‘Must find my chums or they’ll be stuck here! Or, worse, I will!’ She drained her gin and tonic, then gave a brittle smile. ‘Nice talking to you, Sir William. You really must come and join us for dinner some time.’
William was surprised that she had stooped so low as to converse with him, let alone invite him to dine. He, too, downed his drink and walked out on to the quay to get a taxi to drive him the five miles to the airport.
In the lounge, he opened his laptop to discover a welter of e-mails from Michael, requesting he contact London immediately. But he had no time to place a calclass="underline" the flight was already boarding. The messages worried him. What could be so urgent? Perhaps something had happened to Charlie. He never gave a moment’s thought to the idea that it might just be business: his concern was for his son. At last he was taking on the role of father.
As the flight took off from Tortola, the paradise island was silent: most of the resident guests slept late, apart from Max. He wanted to watch the sun rise and had walked to the highest point of the island with a camera.
Max was in the agony of a schoolboy crush on Clarissa, who had played cards with him and James late into the night after they had arrived. The following day she had not come out of her room and when at last he saw her she averted her face and refused to speak to him. Why?
He walked on briskly because the early morning was still dark and the air chilly. He wondered if he was ever going to lose his virginity. With James around, he doubted if he’d get a look in here. He didn’t particularly like James: he was so competitive and aggressive. He seemed constantly to have to prove himself, whereas Max was more passive. As inexperienced in worldly and sexual matters as he was, he maintained an adult calm and perspective — which was about to be shattered.
Laura was sitting with her hands clasped around her knees, perched close to the edge of the jagged rock, her hair blowing around her. Max emerged from the woods fifteen yards or so from her and was taken aback when he saw her. Although he was so close, he didn’t know whether she had heard him or not. He took a step further forward, but she gave no indication that she knew she was not alone.
‘Miss Chalmers,’ he stuttered, and her back arched like a cat’s. ‘It’s Max,’ he added softly, and wondered if perhaps he should turn back but she beckoned him to join her. Max stepped closer, a little afraid as she was so close to the cliff-edge, but she patted the space beside her for him to sit. He hesitated, edging closer, then got to his knees for safety and crawled up to her.
‘You know, if you watch the sun rise close to someone, you are bound together for ever by its rays.’ Her voice was a soft whisper. Max could think of no answer. He was close enough now to feel the warmth of her body beside him. They remained silent, waiting, as the amber glow spread before them.
‘Here it comes, wait, wait... It’s coming any second now,’ she gasped. He held his breath and she reached out for his hand. ‘No one but us will ever have this moment... no one but us.’
She tilted her head to catch the rays as they grew stronger, before the golden globe appeared in front of them, bathing them both in its brilliance. But Max had eyes only for the woman beside him. For him, the sun was a pale star beside her, this magical mirage, her blonde hair shimmering like a halo.