Revenge of the Tide Page 20

  I managed to eat most of the soup, and then picked at my dinner, pushing it around the plate even though it looked delicious and in any other circumstances I would have wolfed it and asked for seconds. Not eating allowed me to devote all my attention to Leon, who, despite his yacht and his Rolex Oyster and his unconscionable amount of money, was decidedly dull.

  Stella was sitting the other side of Leon, and when her attempts at enlivening the conversation with the dark-haired man on her right failed, she turned her attention to Leon and left me momentarily free to check out the men I’d be dancing for later.

  ‘How’s your food?’ Fitz asked me.

  I felt my face flush a little. ‘It’s delicious,’ I said. ‘I’m hoping there might be some leftovers for when I’ve finished dancing.’

  He smiled and under the table his hand made contact with my thigh.

  ‘What time do you want us to start?’ I asked.

  He shrugged. ‘We’ve got business to discuss, so after that. I’ll send one of the lads for you when we’re ready.’

  ‘Anything in particular you’d like?’ I asked, in a low voice.

  He laughed. ‘Just your usual Viva magic. Then we’ll see if there’s anything the gentlemen fancy. Kitten’s going to do some private dances, if they want them.’

  ‘Caddy’s not pole dancing?’

  He gave me an amused smile. ‘No, Viva. You’re here for that.’

  I tried a different route. ‘Thank you for inviting me for dinner,’ I said.

  ‘You’re good at this,’ he said.

  ‘At what?’

  ‘At knowing what they like. And you sorted the girls out, earlier. I appreciated it.’

  I glanced down the table at the three blondes, who were animatedly discussing their potential careers in the music industry with the three young men.

  The girls were all there for sex, I realised. It came to me in a moment even though I’d probably known it all along. When Dylan had said to me last time, ‘You’re the only one dancing,’ I’d thought that meant there would be girls from the club serving drinks, maybe doing lap dances, but when I hadn’t seen any other girls I had accepted this without concern or comment. Now, I realised, they’d all been upstairs; and the last time, while I was being touched up by Kenny and dancing for the other clients of Fitz’s who’d gathered here, the remaining men had probably been upstairs being entertained by the other girls.

  ‘You know,’ I said to Fitz, ‘you should think about diversifying the club a bit.’

  Another amused smile. ‘Diversifying?’

  ‘You could do a couple of ladies’ nights – get some men in to dance as well as girls. And maybe a burlesque night, something with a bit more…’ I searched for the most appropriate word ‘…widespread appeal.’

  ‘Ah, but widespread appeal means the profits reduce.’

  ‘But you must admit you’re working from a very limited pool of customers at the moment,’ I said. ‘Think about all the people who wouldn’t dream of setting foot in the club as it is now. Couples. Girls’ nights out. Hen parties, if you like.’

  Leon Arnold leaned over me, one arm heavy across my shoulders. He smelled of whisky and aftershave. ‘You want to watch yourself with this one, Fitz, old boy,’ he said. ‘She’s gonna take over your empire.’

  My reply was swift. ‘Nah, I want to stick to what I’m good at – dancing for gorgeous guys like you, Leon.’

  Fitz laughed then, and Caddy scowled at me from the other side of the table.

  As soon as dinner was over and I could excuse myself, I went back to the kitchen, found a bottle of water to try and dilute the half-glass of champagne and the half-glass of red wine I’d drunk, and took it with me to the downstairs bathroom. Dylan was waiting at the breakfast bar, munching on a dish of nachos.

  ‘Don’t they feed you properly?’ I asked cheekily.

  He looked up. ‘I thought they were going to take you upstairs, with the rest of the slappers,’ he cheeked back.

  ‘I’d better get changed,’ I said. ‘Come in and talk to me if you like.’

  Dylan shook his head, ‘Fitz wouldn’t like that,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Us having a private chat.’

  I thought back to what Fitz had said about having a problem with Dylan liking me. And I remembered the bit about someone having noticed us having a chat in the club.

  ‘Fitz is busy,’ I said.

  There was nobody else around; the caterers had packed up their kit and gone already. He followed me into the bathroom and sat on the easy chair while I stripped off the evening gown and replaced it with a sparkly cutaway dress in electric blue.

  ‘Do you know what’s up with Caddy?’ I asked. She’d gone straight into the lounge with Fitz and Arnold, arm in arm with both of them, leaving me no chance to take her to one side.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he said.

  ‘She’s giving me filthy looks. I don’t know what I’ve done to upset her.’

  He stared at me and then a slow smile crossed his face.

  ‘What?’ I asked. ‘What the fuck’s going on, Dylan?’

  ‘You were getting cosy with Fitz,’ he said.

  ‘So what? And anyway, I wasn’t “getting cosy”, I was socialising, which is what I think I’m being paid for.’

  ‘Calm down,’ he said. ‘I just meant that she wouldn’t like you being cosy with Fitz because she’s got a thing about him.’

  ‘Caddy and Fitz? They’re a couple?’

  He smiled again. ‘In her dreams maybe.’

  Lots of things were starting to make sense. ‘But he’s not so keen on her?’

  ‘He fucked her once or twice. He used to fuck all the girls, the ones that would let him, that is. Then he had a couple of them go a bit mental on him and he realised it was a bad idea. One of them got pregnant. Trouble is, he didn’t quite finish with Caddy, not in any official sort of way, so she still thinks she’s in with a chance.’

  ‘Why doesn’t he just tell her he’s not interested?’

  ‘I don’t think he has the faintest clue how she feels. And if she told him straight, he’d get rid of her like a shot. He doesn’t like his girls clingy, not any more.’

  ‘No wonder she was giving me daggers,’ I said, remembering Fitz’s arm around my waist, his wet whisky-kiss on my cheek.

  ‘What do you make of Leon Arnold?’ he asked me then.

  ‘Seems alright,’ I said. ‘Why?’

  Dylan scratched his jaw line thoughtfully. ‘He’s a big player, that’s all. Last time you were here, the guys Fitz was talking to, that was all about setting up this meeting with Arnold.’

  ‘Really?’ I said, ‘I’m glad I didn’t know that earlier. I’d have been nervous.’

  ‘I never met him before. Heard of him, of course.’

  ‘You think this deal is a bad idea?’

  ‘Fitz knows what he’s doing.’

  ‘What’s he want?’

  ‘With Arnold? Same as always – earn his fortune. Like you.’ His tone suggested that this would be the last response to any further questions on the topic of Mr Leon Arnold. ‘Just better do a good job dancing, is all.’

  I pulled my hair out of the pleat, shaking it free, and took off the low-heeled sandals that were useful for socialising with men that were shorter than me. In my bag I had a pair of high-heeled patent shoes with a velvet ribbon which criss-crossed around my ankle and reminded me of the ballet lessons I’d had when I was nine years old.

  ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ I said.

  He shrugged.

  ‘Nothing gets to you, does it, Dylan?’

  ‘What’s that mean?’

  ‘I don’t know. You must care about something. There must be someone who really means something to you. You married?’

  He didn’t answer, which I took to mean that he was.

  ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘I thought we were mates. I thought you said you trusted me.’

  ‘I was with someone,’ he s
aid. ‘Not any more.’

  ‘Any kids?’

  There was a long pause. This was like pulling teeth.

  ‘I’ve got a daughter. Lauren. She’s fourteen.’

  ‘You see her often?’

  ‘Not often enough. She lives in Spain, with her mother.’

  ‘Oh. Spain – that must be hard on you.’

  ‘Yeah, anyway, are you ready?’ The conversation was clearly at an end.

  ‘Will you be watching?’ I asked him.

  ‘Don’t have much choice,’ he said.

  I went to wait in the kitchen like a good girl, while Dylan headed upstairs to the sitting room to check that the other girls weren’t getting too drunk.

  When Carling had gone, I got dressed in my jeans and fleece and went to the Scarisbrick Jean. Malcolm and Josie were just finishing their dinner: pasta with some kind of sauce that smelled of garlic.

  ‘You hungry?’ Josie asked me cheerfully. She looked pale despite her colourful jumper. She’d had her hair done in preparation for the wedding – was it her niece? – and in place of the usual dark threaded with silver it was a warm chocolate colour. It made her look years younger.

  ‘No, no,’ I lied, ‘I’ve just eaten.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ she said, ‘we’ve got leftovers.’

  She spooned some tagliatelle and sauce on to a plate and I sat down at their dinette. ‘Your hair looks gorgeous,’ I said.

  I saw a pointed look pass between Malcolm and Josie. Malcolm’s hair, I noticed, had remained resolutely wild.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said firmly, as if making a point. I wondered if Malcolm had failed to notice and was somehow living in purgatory as a result. He wasn’t looking particularly cheerful.

  ‘How have you been?’ I asked Josie quietly.

  ‘Oh, you know. Up and down.’ Tears were in her eyes but she blinked them away with a deep breath. She took her plate and Malcolm’s to the sink in the galley and started the washing-up, banging and crashing cupboard doors with enough gusto to drown out the rest of the conversation.

  ‘My battery’s charged up,’ I said to Malcolm between mouthfuls.

  He looked up then. ‘Yeah. Probably is.’

  ‘And they didn’t take it. You know.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘What’s up?’ I asked, realising the distinct displeasure in his tone was directed at me.

  ‘You,’ he said. ‘Fraternising with the gavvers.’

  ‘You mean Carling? He’s alright. He helped me look for a bath.’

  He looked at me for a moment as though he didn’t know quite what to make of me, and then he laughed out loud, his head back.

  ‘Look,’ I said, when he’d finished sniggering at the thought of me and a police officer looking at bathroom furniture, ‘I needed protection last night, alright? He was happy to stay. So this morning I’m still alive.’

  ‘Whatever,’ he said cheerfully, wiping a tear from his eye.

  ‘I need to move the boat, Malcolm. Those people will probably come back for another go.’

  ‘Tomorrow, we’ll do it tomorrow. Alright? Too dark now to do anything. You can kip here tonight, if you don’t want to be in that boat on your tod.’

  I looked up and down the length of the boat. ‘Kip where?’

  He tapped a bony finger against the side of his nose. ‘Aha,’ he said. ‘You’ll need a duvet or summat; we don’t have anywhere to keep spares.’

  ‘I can’t leave the boat, Malcolm. What if they come back tonight?’

  ‘You could bring it with you. This parcel of yours.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Then I’d be putting you and Josie in danger too. Besides, it’s obviously well hidden where it is, right?’

  He stared at me for a moment, deep in thought. Then he said, ‘I’ve got an idea.’

  I went back to the Revenge of the Tide and collected the duvet, pillow and my toothbrush, as well as my mobile phones. When I came back to the Aunty Jean, Malcolm was out on the pontoon with some fine-grade steel wire and a pair of pliers.

  ‘What’s he doing out there?’ Josie asked as I climbed down into the cabin with armfuls of duvet.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know – fixing something, I guess,’ I said.

  ‘It’s going to be lovely having you here. Like a proper sleepover.’

  I had no idea what she thought I was doing, sleeping on their boat when mine was just ten feet or so further up the pontoon. Malcolm had told her something about the woodburner needing looking at and that had seemed to satisfy any curiosity.

  When all the washing-up had been cleared away, Josie showed me the hidden single bed that slid out from under the dinette like a giant drawer. Of course, while it was out they would need to step over me if they wanted to get from the dinette to the galley or back again, but the likelihood of that in the middle of the night was fortunately quite slim.

  Outside, Malcolm was putting the finishing touches to the elaborate set of trip wires he had fixed at ankle-height across our pontoon. If Nicksy or any of Fitz’s men came to have another go at the boat tonight they would make enough noise to wake up the whole marina.

  Once I got started on the dances, things progressed pretty much as they had for my first visit to Fitz’s house.

  For the first dance, all the men were present except for Fitz and Arnold. I got the distinct impression that I was there to babysit the other men while they got on with whatever business they had to discuss, in private.

  True to his word, Dylan stood in the doorway watching as I worked out, monitoring me and keeping an eye on the guests, as he had been told to do. He blended into the background beautifully, motionless and silent.

  I’d just finished when the door opened and Fitz and Arnold came in, bringing Caddy with them. She was a little bit unsteady on her feet. I gave her a warm smile, which she did not return.

  ‘Aw, look, Leon – we’ve just missed the first dance,’ Fitz said, pouring two large glasses of whisky from the drinks cabinet.

  I blew a kiss to Leon. ‘I’ll be back soon,’ I said to him. ‘Don’t miss the next one.’

  I skipped out of the room and Dylan shut the door behind me. Just time for a very quick change in the bathroom, repairing make-up, generally making myself presentable again.

  The bathroom wasn’t empty; two of the blonde girls from dinner were in there doing lines of coke on the polished marble surface of the vanity unit. They shut up as I opened the door and almost immediately started arguing again when they saw it was only me.

  ‘Well, you can fuck right off,’ the taller one said. She was wearing a towelling robe and acrylic-heeled stilettos, and most likely not very much else.

  ‘Don’t give me that,’ came the reply, high-pitched, close to tears, ‘it was your fucking idea. Don’t back out now, come on!’

  ‘What’s up?’ I asked casually.

  They both stared at me as though suddenly united in their concern that I was going to get involved and therefore somehow want to share the last two lines of powder that were still on the vanity unit.

  ‘She,’ said the younger one, pointing with a shaking, manicured finger at the blonde in the robe, ‘said we should try and get Leon in for a threesome and we could split the tip, and I said yes, and now she’s changed her mind!’

  There was a sigh and a hand on the hip in a gesture of defiance. ‘It wasn’t like that, Bella, you know it wasn’t, I was fucking joking, wasn’t I, honestly.’

  ‘Could be passing up a very lucrative opportunity,’ I said, reapplying lip-gloss.

  ‘That’s exactly what I said!’ exclaimed Bella.

  ‘But seriously, it would take a lot of fucking money for me to do him on me own, never mind with someone else to fucking worry about.’

  ‘It’s called taking one for the team. Don’t expect you’ve ever heard of that, before, have you, Diane?’

  ‘I’ve had enough of this shit. We ain’t got long. Are we doing this line or what?’

  Differences set aside for the purposes of i
ngesting drugs, the two girls bent for their second lines in turn and paused for a moment, before continuing the argument.

  ‘Would you do it?’ Diane asked. It took me a second to realise that she was talking to me.

  ‘Why are you two down here, anyway?’ I said. ‘Shouldn’t you both be entertaining the guests?’

  ‘Oh, don’t you start. You’re worse than fucking Dylan.’

  ‘He’s always bloody nagging us. We came down here to get a moment’s peace – you know,’ said Bella, nodding towards the smear of white residue before picking it up with a moistened finger and applying it to her gums.

  ‘Come on, Bel,’ said Diane, ‘let’s go and find somewhere warmer. Bit frosty in here.’

  They left the bathroom to me, and I had a quick check through my bag to make sure my purse and phone were still in there. I wouldn’t have trusted them with any of my belongings and I wasn’t surprised to find my bag unzipped. They’d probably gone in there to see if I had a stash of coke myself.

  When the door opened again I was about to tell them to fuck off and leave me alone, but this time it was Dylan.

  ‘Hello,’ I said, turning back to the mirror. ‘Don’t bother to knock or anything civilised like that, will you?’

  ‘Seen it all before,’ he said in reply. He sat himself down on the chair and regarded me thoughtfully.

  ‘What?’ I said at last, to his reflection in the mirror.

  ‘Fitz is pissed off,’ he said.

  ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘That’s not good.’

  ‘The deal’s not going down.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Some of Arnold’s lads have been sharing the samples with the girls upstairs.’

  ‘That’ll explain why two of them were in here a minute ago powdering their noses.’

  Dylan ran a weary hand over his forehead. ‘Fuck’s sake. They’re a fucking liability.’ He stood up and made for the door with a sigh.

  ‘Dylan?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Anything I can do to help?’

  He laughed. ‘You can cheer Fitz up, for starters. If anyone can put a smile back on his face, it’s you.’