Fatal Slip

  'Oh, what does it matter. If it means so much to you I'll go along with it.'

  'Thanks. It means a lot to both of us. And now, to get us in the mood, how about a little siesta?'

  Several hours later Jake, in immaculate evening dress, lounged on the bed as he watched Gloria doing her face. She was eventually satisfied, picked up her necklace, and turned to Jake asking him to fasten the clasp.

  He moved across, and drew his finger across her lips, then bent to kiss her. 'Mm, I wish we didn't have to go. Gloria, your sapphires would go much better with this dress than diamonds, don't you think? They reflect the colour of your eyes.'

  Gloria considered, then nodded. She rose, went into the small room which led from the bedroom, where her safe was concealed, and brought back the sapphires. Jake fastened the necklace and insisted on placing the earrings. Then he pulled her to him, laughing as she protested he was ruining her make-up.

  'I could eat you,' he murmured into her thinning hair. 'But you're right, we have to go. Let's go quickly before I get too carried away.'

  They walked the hundred yards or so to the Thorns' house. They had agreed that to preserve the fiction of his friendship with her niece, once he was inside they would not remain together. 'Or our feelings might give us away,' Jake said earnestly, and Gloria hooted with laughter.

  'I can't see the Thorns taking kindly to their guests having a quick screw,' she said between gasps. 'They're about the straightest-laced couple on the island.'

  The house looked like a Christmas tree, and a vulgar one at that, Jake thought, disgruntled at having to use a stratagem to get into a party. Normally hosts welcomed him, but then his usual hosts were aware of his celebrity status. And his usual parties were not the boring affairs he fully anticipated this one to be, unless he could liven it up. All the lights blazed, the doors opening onto the terrace were ajar, and coloured lights stretched round the edges of this. Garden lights illuminated the steps from the gate to the front door, and others were scattered beside chairs and tables. Though dusk fell early, the temperature might still be warm enough to tempt some hardy souls into the garden.

  He was annoyed at the feeling of relief he felt that Bill Thorn was not on hand to welcome them. Valerie Thorn, short and plump, with bright blue eyes and curly white hair, stood beside the front door smiling at her friends. She gave him a serene smile when Gloria begged permission to add her young friend to the party. At his suggestion Gloria deliberately mumbled his name, and as another group of guests followed swiftly after them he was able to escape before his hostess could enquire further. He needed time to find his way around. He also meant to avoid Bill Thorn who would, he felt sure, have no hesitation in throwing him out, whatever he said to Gloria. And he wanted, if possible, to come across his mother unexpectedly before she discovered he was at this party.

  He seized two glasses from a passing waiter and went onto the terrace, and stood where an enormous rubber plant threw deep shadows. He surveyed the crowd milling about, and immediately saw Libby talking to an attractive blonde. She was a real looker, he decided, and he'd try to meet her alone when his main business was done.

  His opportunity soon came. Libby left the blonde and walked right past where he stood. He stretched out and caught her arm, dragging her into the shelter of the bush.

  'You've been avoiding me,' he accused.

  Libby struggled to free her arm from his grasp. 'You are a dirty rotten low-down creep!' she hissed at him. 'What are you doing here? You weren't invited. Let go of me.'

  'I came with a friend, so don't get steamed up about it,' he said quietly.

  'Steamed up? I'm boiling. Were you going to make me pregnant and then deny responsibility?' she demanded.

  'Oh, so you girls have been confiding, have you? Don't believe everything that little trollop says. I'm just a convenient scapegoat.'

  'I don't believe you. And Isabella hasn't said a word to me.'

  'Well, you needn't think it was your body I lusted after,' he sneered. 'I like women, not stupid little girls.'

  'It was my father's money you wanted, wasn't it? Well, you won't get it. And now, if you don't let me go I'll scream, and I'll get you thrown out, and – and I hope you get put into prison, you deserve it.'

  He watched as she stalked away, and then, turning morosely to glance across the garden, stiffened in shock as he recognized Isabella handing round trays of canapés.

  Jake hadn't anticipated seeing her here. Then he shrugged. He could probably avoid her, there seemed to be dozens of guests. He strolled down the garden to a group of chairs beside a small fishpond and sat looking out across the bay. Night had fallen swiftly, and the air was full of fragrance, soft damp earth, the resinous aroma of trees, and elusive scents of flowers. Funchal was spread out below him, bright necklaces of street lights following the curve of the wide bay. The regimented rows of lights of a big cruise liner just arriving floated, disembodied and majestic, in the distance, and he wished fervently he was aboard, away from this place which hadn't come up to his expectations. Lesser boats jostled with intimate fraternity in the harbour. All round, right up the steep slopes of the mountains behind, scattered lights showed the intricate pattern of the steep, winding roads, where houses perched on every available scrap of land flat enough to support a few square metres of buildings.

  He breathed in deeply, drank a couple more glasses of wine, and decided it was time to look for his mother. He found Dodie surrounded by a laughing crowd. She seemed to be wearing an excessive quantity of gauzy scarves and flamboyant beads. Why couldn't she wear proper gemstones instead of that rubbish, he thought irritably. She'd collected plenty from her various husbands, but she always kept them safely locked away. He moved around the perimeter of the crowd until he caught her attention and as her gaze, at first shocked and then angry, rested on him, he beckoned.

  'Well, just look what the cat's brought in! How did you manage to gatecrash?' she demanded loudly.

  'Dear Mama,' he forced himself to say calmly. 'You were always one for a joke. I was brought by a friend and our hosts are quite happy to see me here.'

  'Which puts them in a minority of two.'

  'If you think I'm going to be insulted like your damn fool husbands, you're mistaken. I came to try and have a civilized discussion.'

  'You can't even act civilized,' she jeered, 'even if they spent a million on drama lessons.'

  The other guests, embarrassed, had melted away from the group just far enough to pretend they weren't avidly eavesdropping. Jake sat in the chair beside Dodie. 'Cut the insults, Ma. I know you've never liked me, but you did produce me and I've a right to know who my father is. If you know,' he added.

  'I know all right,' she replied grimly, 'but despite how he treated me if you think I'm going to sick you on him you're very much mistaken.'

  'Gran once told me it wasn't your first husband, you hadn't met him when I was born. He was married, I suppose. Is it our much-revered host?'

  Dodie stared at him in amazement, and then dissolved into helpless laughter. When she could speak again she sounded almost friendly. 'Bill adores Valerie and he always did. A group of us from the chorus used to go about with some army blokes when they were on leave in London, but Bill wasn't often there, and he was just one of the lads. He was with them only when it was impossible for him to get home to Valerie.'

  Jake knew when she was telling the truth. 'His brother? One of his army pals then? It could be someone here tonight.'

  'Why the hell do you want to know? You're not the sort to have finer feelings, needing to look for your roots. It can only be money. That's all you care about. Well, don't expect me to tell you anything. And don't expect another handout from me. I'm going home in a few days, and if you want to stay here you won't do any harm. Nor will you find your father.'

  She rose and swept away. Jake swung round to stare after her and found himself facing Alex Ross and the blonde he'd noticed earlier. They grinned at one another, then looked away and began an an
imated conversation, and Jake gritted his teeth. It was clear they'd heard at least some of the conversation. He stalked off in the opposite direction, fuming impotently, wondering how, if he couldn't prise this secret from Dodie, he could get the cash he needed.

  *

  Dodie noticed Emma staring at her as she left Jake, but she didn't want to stop and embarrass her further, since she had clearly heard some of the row. Inside the house she saw Howard, but she couldn't face him either in her present angry mood. She discovered a small room where some older women were sitting, complaining that being outside was all very well for young ones, but at their age they felt the chill of the evening.

  She joined them, but the conversation soon passed on to local gossip, and it was clear that one elderly lady was mercilessly questioning one of the others.

  'Your young man, Gloria, is a friend of a niece? But I didn't know you had a niece. I thought you and poor dear Martin were both only children?'

  'My cousin's children always called me aunt,' the other replied testily. When she frowned, Dodie saw with interest, it ruined all the expensive surgery she'd clearly undergone.

  'But I thought it was the same young man who drove you to Philip's place before you popped over to Paris. Didn't you say you were employing him as a gardener and chauffeur?'

  'He likes to be helpful,' Gloria snapped.

  'Isn't he one of these soap actors? I'm sure I've seen him in something on television. He has some funny name, something rude like these dreadful pop stars use to try and shock us oldies.'

  'If only they knew,' another chortled. 'Why is it every generation thinks it's the first to discover sex? How do they think they all came to be born – immaculate conception?'

  'Jakes! I knew it was lavatorial. Is that your dear unknown niece's friend, Gloria?'

  Dodie regarded the woman more carefully. Now she recognized her. Jake had been with her at the Casino. Her concealing make-up prevented the blush that stained her scraggy neck from showing in her face, but it was clear she was either embarrassed or furious. If Jake was sponging off her Dodie had a very astute idea of the payment being exacted.

  Gloria had had enough. 'I'm going to find another drink if the waiters intend to ignore us. And then I'm fetching a shawl if we all have to traipse down to the harbour.' She left the room, and when the talk swung to torment someone else, and Dodie could hope to learn no more, she too left.

  She collected a plateful of food and went onto the terrace again. She began to talk to people, and managed to forget the aggravation of Jake's continued presence on Madeira. She'd be leaving soon, and once he'd milked Gloria of what he could he'd leave too. There was nothing to keep him in such a quiet spot. She'd no doubt hear of him next on the Riviera, or somewhere else where rich lonely women congregated.

  *

  Dodie had another migraine threatening. She swallowed a tablet, and hoped it would get no worse. When Howard asked her to walk down to the harbour with him, ahead of the other guests, she happily agreed. It might give her head a chance to recover. They were going to watch the fireworks from his boat.

  'I meant to sail out into the harbour, but there will be so many people on board it wouldn't be safe,' Howard explained, laughing slightly. 'It's always the same when Valerie becomes involved. The numbers creep up without your really noticing, and in the end you have twice as many as you'd originally decided was the absolute maximum. We can see almost as well from the Marina anyway.'

  Funchal was packed, with thousands of visitors and the islanders who had come to the city to join in the festivities thronging the streets. It was impossible to drive down to the harbour. The town was illuminated with thousands of bulbs glowing with the vivid hues of jewels, strung up from houses and in the trees. Every street had colourful patterns of lights repeated along its length – flowers, stars, crowns, teddy bears. The leaves of the trees, transformed into strange and wonderful shapes and tints, reflected the lights back from glossy surfaces. All round the surrounding slopes of the amphitheatre private fireworks parties were taking place.

  Decorated cars and lorries moved slowly along, carrying joyful family parties. 'I don't know why they bother,' Howard said. 'They'll never get anywhere in this crush. By midnight they'll have come to a halt and will just enjoy the fireworks from where they stop.'

  Many doors and windows were open, spilling light into the streets. Trees in gardens and window boxes on balconies were festooned with fairy lights. They glowed everywhere, inside and out. The public buildings and fountains were floodlit. Howard exchanged greetings with everyone.

  'You know a lot of people,' Dodie said, trying to distract her mind from the throbbing pain in her head.

  'No, not really. Oh, you mean all these people? I don't know them, it's just that everyone is happy, enjoying themselves.'

  They eventually reached the broad road which ran along the side of the harbour. It was even more crowded than the town streets, traffic barred from it, and many groups having their own parties as they waited. Howard threaded the way between the impromptu picnic tables, occasionally stopping to accept a glass of wine thrust towards him. Horns were blaring, people singing. Some were playing guitars and other stringed instruments, a few struggled to be heard with mouth organs or accordions.

  'What's that?' Dodie asked, and the man sitting on the back of a bench heard her and handed down what he had been holding.

  'It's a brinquinho,' Howard explained.

  Dodie was fascinated. It was half a metre or more long, with a central pole, and tiny dolls dressed in replicas of the national costume. The men wore the traditional loose white shirts and trousers, the women the striped skirts, white blouses, and embroidered waistcoats, with short red cloaks slung over one shoulder. Flower-sellers had to wear this garb, and it was a common sight in the market and other tourist areas. Two pairs of dolls below, two smaller pairs above, with castanets and bells on their backs, bounced up and down the pole making a delightful chiming sound. Smiling, Dodie handed it back. 'I must buy one of those,' she said as they turned away.

  'Look, at least a dozen cruise ships,' Howard said, pointing, and Dodie could see the crescent of boats, ablaze with coloured lights, surrounded by a flotilla of tugs and cargo boats, all anchored a short way out.

  At his boat a couple of men who worked in the harbour had been paid to ensure no uninvited guests came aboard before Howard arrived. He thanked them and sent them off to rejoin their families, to a chorus of good wishes. Hastily he opened some bottles in readiness.

  'This must be like Australia. Christmas just doesn't seem right in hot weather,' Dodie said. Her headache, thank goodness, seemed to be retreating despite all the noise and excitement.

  'There it's summer and the days are long. I don't think I'd like it to be too hot. This is just right.'

  Theo and his sons arrived and began to prepare trays of drinks. Within minutes the yacht was crowded with laughing, happy people. Most of them looked happy. Dodie saw Gloria, crouched on the narrow seat inside the boat's side, tense and watchful. Serve her right for being such a fool as to take up with Jake, Dodie thought. He was nowhere around, she was glad to see. Bruce and Emma were moving about together, arms entwined round each other's waists as they talked to others. Libby was talking animatedly to David Holmes and several of the younger people, many of them visiting expatriate parents, who had congregated in the bow near the drinks table. Alex stood to one side with Bill, watching the young ones.

  Dodie moved across to join them. 'Is Bruce OK? He looks pale.'

  'He was mugged just before Christmas, in the lane behind our house, where he'd left his car. He was hit hard but he's OK, he had a hospital check-up,' Bill said. 'Good, here's Valerie.'

  Valerie had stayed behind to supervise the maids clearing up at the villa. She, Maria and Isabella were carrying baskets with some of the food left over there, and Bill groaned.

  'Haven't we had enough to eat?' he asked, patting his stomach.

  'You'll be hungry by the time the
fireworks are over,' Valerie said, grinning. Maria glared at her from under lowered brows, and Dodie wondered if there had been any problems. Isabella looked as though she wanted to cry, and when one of her brothers, his expression thunderous, suddenly moved next to her she flinched away from him.

  Dodie wondered what on earth was the matter with them. The whole family seemed to be affected. Then she had no more time for reflecting as she was surrounded by other guests. Occasionally she caught a glimpse of Theo offering drinks, and Isabella was working too, though Maria or one of her brothers always seemed to be beside her. Bruce soon sat down, Emma hovering attentively nearby.

  Howard came up and chatted for a moment. He was moving away when suddenly there came a loud shout. Dodie swung round and saw some sort of a disturbance by the gangplank. It was in shadow, and she could not see clearly, but several people seemed to be struggling together, and two women were cowering back in alarm. The bunch of men swayed, one man lost his footing, and the group broke up. A dishevelled man staggered forwards weaving from side to side.

  Howard had started towards him a moment after the initial shouts, but the intruder pushed him aside and swung round, knocking over a woman behind him. Several guests attempted to restrain him, but he brushed aside their more tentative efforts. He was clearly far from sober, shouting abuse and throwing random punches at anyone in his path. Dodie's eyes widened in horror as he came into a pool of light. It couldn't be. But it was. Her son was looking for trouble.

  *

  'Where's that bloody man? Well, where is he? Who's hiding the bastard?'

  Jake peered into the shocked, frightened, or disdainful faces of the guests. He came to a halt in front of Gloria Neville, swaying slightly. She gave him a contemptuous, unflinching stare, rising to face him.

  'You've changed your tune suddenly,' he sneered. 'Had enough of it? Age caught up with you at last?'

  'I've been home,' she said through clenched teeth. 'Don't think you can get away with them.'

  'You're pathetic. Having kissed, you'll tell all? The tabloids might buy my version. Or maybe I'll go on TV giving advice to plutocratic old has-beens on how to keep the juices flowing. Old bag!' Jake muttered and spat in her face.