Fatal Slip Read online

  'Why can't we tell them about us? Surely if they knew your mother approved they'd come to see it our way?'

  Jake laughed scornfully. 'You can bet if we did they'd have you straight in a nunnery until you let them force you into marrying this Rui chap. Madeira's still in the dark ages where women are concerned.'

  Isabella could not deny it. She complained about it too often herself.

  'I must find a job, here in Funchal, for a few weeks,' Jake went on.

  Isabella looked puzzled. 'Why don't you just move to another hotel? I could visit you there.'

  'I'm short of cash,' Jake confessed. 'I was stupid, played poker with chaps I didn't know, and was swindled. But don't worry, for you I'll do anything. I'll find a safe place where we can meet for an hour or so, whenever you're able to escape. And when my next series starts I'll have ready cash, and can send for you.'

  'Why can't you ask your mother to lend you some money?' Isabella asked. 'If she wants you to marry, wouldn't she be happy to?'

  'I won't ask her for financial help,' Jake said virtuously. 'I have plenty of money, but it's tied up at home for the moment. Ma will help in other ways, but I insist on supporting my wife myself.'

  Isabella sighed and went back to the dining room where she was due to wait at table. Resigned to dreaming of the day when she'd be able to escape for good, she comforted herself by recalling her surprise when she'd accidentally walked into Jake's room that first day, to find him sprawled naked on the bed, fast asleep. She'd been horridly embarrassed, but he'd smiled at her so ruefully, and apologised for not putting the 'Do Not Disturb' sign out, and then begged her for some coffee and rolls, so that she'd been put at her ease almost at once. Later he'd watched her all the time as she served lunch, and lain in wait for her when she went shopping. He'd explained he couldn't help himself, she was so lovely and enchanting. She sighed. It was so romantic, like the books visitors sometimes left behind, which she secreted in her room and read at night. She'd never imagined anything so wonderful would ever happen to her, and could still scarcely believe it. But it had, and one day she'd be married to Jake, sharing the sophisticated life he'd told her about, travelling the world, meeting famous people.

  She'd try to make an excuse to see Jake's mother. Not deliberately to speak to her, that wouldn't be right, but she had a great curiosity just to see her. It wouldn't take her long to walk past the Cliff Bay when she went into town, and she had a newspaper photograph of Dodie Fanshaw which had been printed in the local paper. She'd be able to recognize her. And just maybe, if they should happen to get into conversation, she could ask for help.

  *

  'I didn't know you lived in Madeira too,' Dodie said as she kissed Howard Thorn. He looked remarkably young, despite his thinning hair and heavy spectacles. Whereas Bill was bluff and hearty, with rosy cheeks and a bristling white moustache, and looked like a retired sea-captain, Howard was tall and thin, the very picture of an academic. It was sometimes difficult to believe he and Bill were brothers, though Dodie remembered there was a ten-year age gap, and Howard was her own age.

  'I kept quiet until your journalist friends had gone,' Howard said, grinning. 'I'd no intention of baring my soul for their cameras.'

  'But you were with Bill when Matthew went back to get him out,' Dodie said.

  'Just a sidekick. I was no more than a corporal, they were very superior officers. They were the heroes.'

  'Where do you live? In Funchal?'

  'In a manner of speaking. I have a boat, it's moored in Funchal Marina, and I live here most of the time.'

  'But Bill said you ran a computer business.'

  'I do, but I have a partner back in England who does all the tedious stuff like administration and selling, and I design the software. With modern communications, fax and e-mail, you know, it's as easy to keep in touch from here as from the home counties.'

  'You must get Howard to show you his boat,' Valerie said as she handed Dodie a drink. 'He did it up himself, and made a wonderful job of it.'

  'A man of a hundred talents?' Dodie looked impressed. 'I haven't a clue about computers, and I get queasy in a rowing boat, but I'd love to see yours.'

  'I'll take you after lunch,' Howard promised.

  It was three in the afternoon when the taxi stopped on the Avenido do Mar, near the sixteenth century Fortress of St Lawrence. Howard led the way down to the crowded Marina.

  'What sort of boat is it?' Dodie asked. Not that she'd know the difference, but she wanted to distract herself from the bobbing craft to either side as they threaded their way along narrow catwalks. She gulped when Howard turned and pointed to one of the boats.

  'Here she is, my Silicon Lady. Let's get aboard. Can you manage without the gangplank?'

  He hopped across the narrow gap. Dodie tried not to look down as she held tightly to his hand. She stepped gingerly onto a narrow seat which seemed to run all way round the sides of the boat, and then scrambled inelegantly down to the deck, her flowing sleeves and scarf floating in her wake.

  'You have quite a lot of room here,' she said in surprise. 'I thought boats were cramped and there wasn't room to move except in a sort of dance by numbers.'

  'Most small boats are like that, but this is a converted fishing boat, so the deck was large. I rebuilt the cabin, but I don't need much room. I prefer to have the space outside. Plenty of room for parties,' he added. 'We'll be coming down here to watch the fireworks after the ruby wedding party Valerie and Bill are arranging.'

  'Fireworks? Specially for the party?'

  Howard laughed. 'No, not even Bill's so extravagant! It's New Year's Eve, and Funchal celebrates with the best fireworks show you've ever seen. You'll enjoy that.'

  They walked round the deck, into the small wheel house where Dodie listened to an incomprehensible explanation of the various instruments, and then Howard unlocked the cabin door and ushered her down a few steps.

  'There's more room than I expected,' she exclaimed.

  'It's custom-built, for me and perhaps one or two very occasional guests, so it isn't cluttered with extra berths and benches. Sleeping and eating that end, with galley and a shower room beyond, and my working space this end all laid out for instant use. The table converts to a double bunk, and I can draw curtains if I or my guests need privacy.'

  'You have a lot of paintings,' Dodie said suddenly, crossing to inspect several hung above the bunks. 'Are you the artist?'

  'Heavens, no, but I enjoy looking at them. They're all by local, that is Madeiran, artists.'

  'And all local scenes. I can recognize the flower sellers by the Cathedral, and the fort just over there, but what are these vicious looking rocks?'

  'That's the volcanic rock at Porto Moniz. It's razor-sharp, and the sea swirls round in the tiny pools.'

  'It's frightening, menacing. I imagine anyone falling into one of those pools would be smashed and torn to ribbons in minutes. They look like teeth, like the teeth of those ugly espada fish.'

  Howard laughed. 'I wouldn't like to encounter either. Fortunately espada can't live except deep in the sea, under immense pressure. This boat used to fish for them.'

  'Do you go to sea in her?' Dodie asked.

  'Not very often, and it wouldn't be safe on my own in bad weather, but she's capable of going across the Atlantic if I ever wanted to.'

  He made tea and they carried it up to the deck, sitting on the low shelf by the side of the boat. Dodie leaned over the low gunwale and reached down towards the water.

  'I can almost touch it. You know, I don't think I'd mind a boat if it kept still like this one.'

  Howard handed her a cup of tea. 'Try some bolo de mel,' he said. 'Has Valerie given you any yet?'

  'No. Is that honey cake?'

  'Yes. Sold everywhere, a national delicacy.'

  Half an hour later they walked back towards the town and Dodie took a taxi to go back to Valerie's house.

  'I'll call for you tonight then,' Howard said as she stepped in. 'We'll storm the C
asino. Let's hope our luck is in.'

  She was paying off the driver when Valerie appeared, running down the steep path from her front door.

  'Dodie, can you keep the taxi?' she called. 'I'm so glad you're back. Come with me, please. I need your support.'

  *

  Isabella looked round carefully. There was no one about she recognized. She slipped through the small entrance which gave onto a path leading to the wider drive serving the Cliff Bay hotel. For a moment she hesitated. Jake hadn't wanted to approach his mother for help, but she was sure he was just being stupidly independent. Surely if his mother knew of his plight she'd be happy to help? And it wasn't as though it meant giving him money – it was just a loan.

  She straightened her shoulders and went towards the huge glass doors, smiling nervously as the doorman opened them for her. She'd never been inside before and was overawed at the vastness of the foyer, the luxurious furnishings, and the opulent décor. It made her own family's hotel look puny, old-fashioned. It was all very well for her mother to say that discriminating guests preferred the native, homely style. She for one was tired of it. But with Jake they'd stay at smart hotels. It was pure chance he'd wanted a quiet place, where he wouldn't be recognized, and had found Maclean's.

  She went nervously to the desk.

  'Can I help you?' A pretty girl in a smart suit smiled at her.

  Isabella swallowed. 'Can I – is Mrs Fanshaw in?' she managed to say.

  'Just a moment, I'll check. Do you want to see her?'

  'Please.'

  'Who shall I say?' The girl was searching through the keys. 'Oh, I'm sorry, she must be out. Why don't you leave a message for her?'

  Isabella stared blankly. That wouldn't do at all. She shook her head and turned away, crushed with disappointment. As she left she wondered if she would ever pluck up the courage to try again. But she must, she insisted, rallying herself. If Jake wouldn't ask, she would, to prove her love for him.

  *

  'What is it?' Dodie demanded when Valerie, having told the man to drive to the airport, sat back and heaved a big sigh. 'And where's Bill?'

  'He's seeing the manager of the shop.' Bill had various business interests, including shares in a flourishing wine cellar. 'It's Libby. The wretched child's been expelled from school and they've sent her out here. They didn't tell us until she was in the air.'

  'What? But that's completely irresponsible! What if you'd been away? And why send her to you? Where are her parents?'

  Valerie sighed. 'I wrote only last week, so she knew we weren't away. I imagine they were so eager to be rid of her they took her word for it. Sally's in Australia, with her new husband.'

  Dodie nodded. 'Yes, of course I know she went there, but that was six months ago, surely?'

  'Where did we go wrong, Dodie? We did our best to give Sally plenty of love and security. It's difficult, living in army houses, and all over the world, but we thought she was happy. We sent her to a good school and she did well there. And then she refused to go to university, took off doing odd jobs round Europe, met Alex Ross, and had Libby.'

  'It was probably the glamour attached to an actor,' Dodie said wryly.

  'Maybe we shouldn't have forced them to get married. Alex always resented the way Bill coerced him into it. We would have helped her bring up the child. And because Sally wouldn't leave Libby to go on tour with him, he made that an excuse to have affairs with young actresses. Even her patience snapped in the end, and she's well rid of him.'

  'He's quite a bit older than she is, isn't he?'

  'He's almost forty now, but she was only seventeen when they met, and now Libby's almost that age.'

  'Where is he? Why couldn't the school contact him?'

  'I wish they had. It isn't that I don't love Libby, but she's such a responsibility. Apparently he's on location somewhere, can't be reached.'

  Dodie grunted. 'Of course he can be! They're stalling you. Did the school say what she'd done?'

  Valerie chuckled suddenly. 'She's always been rebellious, difficult, but it was Alex who insisted she went to that wretched school. Serves him right. It was supposed to be a free, relaxed and progressive regime, to have marvellous successes with children no one else would tolerate. But she wasn't bad enough to need that. Not when she went.'

  'What did she do?' Dodie repeated.

  'As far as they told me, it began with a midnight feast. They raided the larders, but then it got out of hand and the idiots began chucking food at one another.'

  'Flourbag fights instead of pillow fights.'

  'Libby emptied tins of honey and treacle onto the floor, and tipped beans and pulses and lentils all over it.'

  'It sounds a very healthy diet,' Dodie chuckled. 'And she was expelled for that? I'd have stopped their pocket money until they'd paid for the food, and made them get down on hands and knees to scrub the floor! Were they all chucked out?'

  'No, only the ringleaders. It isn't the first time Libby's been in trouble, and she'd been warned.'

  Dodie shook her head. 'No idea, some of these teachers, how to deal with high spirits. But tell me, did Libby like the school? Bill said the other day she wants to be an actor.'

  'That's what she says she wants. She liked the school last year, so far as I can tell.'

  'Then is it possible the little devil did it on purpose?'

  Valerie looked startled. 'Could she? Yes, it's just the sort of thing she would do,' she decided. 'Just wait until I get my hands on her!'

  They didn't have long to wait. Valerie took Dodie up onto the roof of the airport building and within five minutes they could see the plane approaching, flying past, and then sweeping low as it returned to the landing strip. Valerie gasped and clutched Dodie's hand.

  'I've flown in and out dozens of times,' she said, swallowing hard, 'but I find it terrifying to watch. The runway's so short, and it's built out over the sea. What would happen if it overshot?'

  'It won't,' Dodie said reassuringly, though she knew she, and she suspected everyone else, had the same thought every time they came in to land. 'At least you're preserved from big planes, only small ones can land here.'

  They watched as the plane made a perfect landing, swung round at the end of the runway and taxied back to pull up with a flourish before the airport building. Valerie watched for the first glimpse of her granddaughter, but failed to see her.

  'Do you think that's the wrong plane?' she asked, worried. 'I could have sworn they said this one was from London.'

  'You were probably expecting school uniform. Do they wear it?'

  'Nothing so decadent! It's a very unorthodox school. Let's go down and see.'

  They were scanning the arriving passengers when a girl stopped beside them, and gave a tentative smile. 'Hello, Gran.'

  Dodie had difficulty suppressing her amusement. Valerie was speechless. The girl, clearly a would-be siren, was wearing skin-tight lime green leggings, a skin-coloured see-through top which left her midriff bare, and lavishly applied black and purple eye-shadow. Her hair had been bleached some time ago, since the natural dark brown showed at the roots, but it was heavily lacquered and stood up in spikes coloured blue and orange. She looked just like the strelitzia which grew all over the island.

  'You'll be well camouflaged here,' Dodie murmured, and Valerie roused herself from her stupefaction to greet Libby. That was all she was capable of, though, and Dodie was the only one to speak in more than monosyllables all the way back home. When they reached the Thorns' villa Valerie looked pleadingly at Dodie, but she shook her head.

  'Sorry, I have to go back to the hotel and change. I'm trying my luck at the Casino tonight, and I don't want to keep Howard waiting. I'll take on the taxi.'

  'A busy day for you,' the taxi driver said as he turned into the Cliff Bay driveway. Dodie admired his reticence. He hadn't so much as blinked when confronted by Libby. She grinned and to her delight he winked solemnly back.

  'And it isn't over yet,' Dodie groaned, wondering briefly wh
ether she really did want to go to the Casino tonight. But Howard, who had been a shy young man, never one of her escorts in the days of their youth, didn't deserve such treatment. She just had time for a gin and tonic accompanied by a deep bath before he arrived.

  *

  Howard Thorn sipped the wine, and shrugged.

  Dodie was trying to understand. 'You were content to abandon London? But not to become a lotus-eater. I'd have thought you might have lost touch.'

  'I was sick of the rats and the rat-race,' he said mildly. 'I can make plenty of money and live here, enjoying the sun, sailing when I feel like it, drinking superb wines, and even playing the tables when I want to.'

  She nodded. 'I envy you in a way, but I get bored so soon, I need to move on. Places as well as husbands,' she added, chuckling.

  Howard grinned. 'I work when I feel like it, and have plenty of time for other things. Shall we go back in and throw away a fortune?'

  They went across to the gaming rooms and Dodie soon became absorbed in the drama. Howard, after a few turns, soon gave way to another player and stood behind her, watching the other gamblers round the table.

  As the bets were being placed he studied a woman opposite. She was tense, clearly anxious, and looked familiar. At that moment she caught his glance and frowned, then smiled and gave a brief nod.

  'Who's that?' Dodie asked, catching the small exchange.

  'I think she lives near Bill. I've seen her at some of their parties. You know how sociable Valerie is – no day's complete for her without some party. I can't remember her name, but she's a widow, very well off, and though she's as old as Valerie she admits to being forty.'

  Dodie laughed. 'I didn't know you were so catty.' Then she stiffened. Jake had appeared behind the woman, resting a hand proprietorially on her shoulder, and she'd patted it as she glanced coquettishly up at him. So he hadn't gone home, the devious bastard, she thought. Had he snaffled the cash from poor gullible Jylli, or come back with the money she'd given him? Why? Did he mean to ask her for more? She'd be damned if she gave him more. He'd found an open cash till by the looks of it. He could depend on that. As Dodie watched cynically, she decided that he was practically mopping up her tears when she lost a few chips.

  The croupier had started the wheel again, and Dodie observed the mismatched couple with considerable interest. She'd never seen Jake in action before. Fortunately he hadn't spotted her yet. He was being very attentive, and it seemed clear the woman, loaded with diamonds, was looking for a vigorous stud. Toyboys were clichés these days. Suddenly she didn't want to watch her son any longer.