Fatal Slip Page 4

  'I'm exhausted,' she said firmly. 'Do you mind if we go?'

  *

  'Emma? It is, isn't it? I'd know your hair anywhere.'

  Emma turned from inspecting the tiny silver bananas piled lavishly on the stall. 'Libby? Hi! What on earth are you doing here?'

  'My grandmother sent me shopping. I think she hopes it will keep me out of mischief.'

  Emma eyed the briefest of brief cut-off jeans, and the teeshirt with male hands provocatively positioned. 'Dressed like that? She's optimistic. I meant in Madeira. Isn't it still term time?'

  'I was expelled, just for a silly prank.'

  'It was more than that, I expect. Did you want to be sacked?' Emma asked, grinning. She'd always liked her step-daughter, and wasn't so much older that she'd forgotten her own difficult adolescence. 'Where's Alex? Why isn't he having to look after you?'

  Libby shrugged. 'He's on location. But they should be finished soon. Then he'll be unemployed again.'

  'No more parts in sight?'

  'I don't think so. He was written out of the American soap, and got passed over for various other parts there. I think America's tired of him. He was glad when this piffling film turned up.'

  'Your mother? Where is she?'

  'Off with Greg, on the other side of the world. Perhaps as well, I couldn't stand her going on at me as well as the grandparents. But why are you here?'

  'I loved it that time I came with you and Alex, to stay with your grandparents. I persuaded Bruce he'd be able to write in the peace here.'

  'I knew you'd married him. But I wish you hadn't left Dad. You made him see things my way.'

  'Come and have some coffee?'

  Libby glanced at her watch. 'I'd better get back, I'm kept on a tight leash. But can I come and see you? Maybe when Dad gets here you'll be able to soften him up, persuade him to let me go to drama school.'

  Emma gave her their address and watched as Libby, with a cheerful wave, passed through the market entrance, stopping to sniff at some of the flowers massed there. So it seemed probable Alex would be here soon. Did she want to see him again? She didn't know. She sighed deeply, and returned to her shopping.

  *

  Jake eased through the door and went along the cool tiled hallway to the kitchen, where he drained a can of lager. Then, feeling in need of fresh air after the heavy, cloying perfumes which filled Gloria's bedroom, he went into the garden. The sun beat down and he guessed it was almost noon. Gloria had been insatiable for two nights and a day, and he decided she was either a geriatric nymphomaniac or had been starved of sex for decades.

  Gloria Neville had happened just in time. The money Dodie had provided had soon vanished, mostly because of a run of bad luck at blackjack. It was when he switched to roulette, hoping to recoup enough to pay his hotel bill, that he'd seen Gloria. It was her profusion of diamonds rather than the lady herself that had attracted his attention, and the fact that she was alone. He'd soon repaired that defect, even though he could do little to mend her personal failings. However, Jake was not fussy when the bed was strewn, as it were, with jewels and banknotes and the lights were doused. He didn't intend to stay for long, and in the meantime he had Isabella's nubile body to console him for what he regarded as his bread and butter exertions. If, that is, he could induce her to penetrate the portals of this opulent refuge where he'd consented to be known as the gardener. She could play Eve to his Adam. Gloria didn't fit that part. She might be the serpent, though.

  He climbed the series of steps which wound through the garden towards the wall bordering a quiet lane. All of Funchal, apart from the centre of the town near the harbour, was built on steep slopes. Gloria's garden, he was thankful to see, would need little attention. It was full of mature trees and shrubs whose spreading foliage concealed dozens of nooks suitable for activities best kept concealed from Gloria.

  'I need a handyman, to drive me and keep the garden tidy,' she'd suggested the first evening, a bare hour after he'd escorted her home and been asked in for a nightcap. Gloria hadn't been slow in making her requests known. As soon as she'd poured two generous tumblers of whisky she'd led the way into her large bedroom, and they'd still been in the palatial bed, enjoying an interlude in their exertions, when she began to set out her terms. 'It would be a nominal position, of course, but I have my reputation to consider. A woman living alone in this place has to be careful.'

  That suited Jake. He preferred his professional amours to be conducted in less than the open. 'The salary?' he'd asked bluntly. 'And where would I be expected to live?'

  'Here, of course.'

  'I have to pay my hotel bill before I can move out.'

  'I'll pay that.' She was businesslike, and Jake wondered how often the arrangement had been made before. 'There's a small cottage in the garden, tucked away near the wall. Lots of these houses have them. The previous people used to let it to visitors, but I can't be bothered. My old gardener lived there until he went to work in one of the hotels. Leave some clothes there, and put the lights on a timer, and no one will know you're not living there.'

  She named a generous salary, and handed over what she laughingly called a retainer. Jake saw that it was sufficient to clear his debts, and smiled warmly at her.

  'I can hardly accompany you to the Casino if I'm your chauffeur,' he pointed out.

  She shrugged. 'I only go there when I'm bored. And now I won't be bored. Will I?'

  In one corner of the garden Jake found the small cottage. There was a gate nearby, locked, but he'd soon find the key. He estimated that it was no more than half a mile from the Maclean's hotel, and surely he could persuade Isabella to meet him here. It was private, secluded, and the lane outside, which was quiet, could be on her route into the town.

  He returned to the house where he'd left Gloria asleep. He must fetch his belongings, making sure he spoke to Isabella. Then what? A couple of months, perhaps less, until he had the means to move on.

  'Jakie, is that you?' Gloria trilled. Jake went into the bedroom. The shower was turned on in the adjoining bathroom, and Gloria was standing in the doorway. 'Why don't you come and join me?' she cooed.

  Jake averted his gaze from her skinny frame and sagging breasts. She spent a fortune on her face, he thought sourly, but next time she had a facelift she ought to try some silicone transplants too. Still, she was wealthy and generous, and he'd have Isabella. He smiled, wriggled sensuously out of his jeans, cast his shirt on the rumpled bed, and with a playful growl swooped onto the giggling Gloria and thrust her beneath the spurting jets of water.

  ***

  Chapter 3

  'How is Libby settling down?' Dodie asked when she and Valerie met for coffee at the Pátio café. She hated to see her old friend looking so careworn.

  Valerie grimaced. 'Not very well, I'm afraid. She pretends to be studying for her A levels, but the mound of open books all over her table and bed never seem to have the pages turned, and her notebooks are pristine, might still be new.'

  'Overkill, eh? What does Bill say?' Surely, Dodie thought with an inward grin, he'd be able to control his granddaughter. She recalled an occasion when Bill had managed to quell a bunch of near-rioting squaddies. One teenage girl wouldn't defeat him.

  'He's resumed his army persona.' Valerie giggled. 'We were going out for a meal with some friends, and she had on a dreadful satin affair – a cat-suit, I think she called it. It was black, slashed with positively indecent holes which were bound with fluorescent ribbons, orange and purple and gold.'

  Dodie laughed. 'Standard teenage gear.'

  'She also had lashings of paint on her face. Bill took one look and barked at her, parade-ground fashion, and she went off, quite lamblike, to scrub off the paint and change. Luckily she did bring one respectable dress with her. I must buy her some more.'

  'Have you heard from her parents? They ought to be the ones taking care of this.'

  'Sally can't be contacted. She and Greg are sailing with some friends of his, and no one knows precise
ly where.'

  'And Alex?'

  'I phone every day, and leave endless messages on his machine. And Howard's faxed his agent. There's never any reply.'

  'Have you been in touch with the school?'

  'Bill rang them to complain about them sending her here on her own. It seems she really has been making a nuisance of herself for months now. It's worse than she told us, or the headmistress said in her first call. At least it wasn't drugs or sex, thank God.'

  'Isn't she worried about her exams? She must be due to sit them next summer.'

  'She insists they don't matter, as she wants to act. But I know neither Sally nor Alex, much as they disagree about other things, would permit her to go to drama school at her age. It would mean living in London, and apart from Alex having women in his flat, he's away too much.'

  'Has she any young company?'

  'That's the one gleam of hope. Bill met a young man, English, who's out here to learn the wine trade. Libby seems to like him and they've been walking levadas.'

  'Le-what?'

  'Those irrigation channels that were dug out round the contours of the hills to direct water from the mountains to where it's wanted.'

  'I've heard of them. Otherwise it would all run away, and they wouldn't be able to grow all these lovely vegetables, and endless tomatoes. They have paths alongside, don't they?'

  Valerie nodded. 'Most of them. Anyway, David Holmes has an ambition to walk as many as he can before he goes home, and Libby's been with him a couple of times. She even consented to wear those woolly hats with ear flaps. I thought Bill had blown it when he told her the Madeiran men wore the flaps down so that they couldn't hear the women nagging!'

  Dodie chuckled. 'Has Libby got a feminist streak too?'

  'It's not a streak, it's a great wide stripe.'

  'What about girls her own age?'

  'I tried to introduce her to young Isabella Maclean. Her father, Theo, is English. He runs a hotel here. He married a local girl.'

  Dodie knew she's heard the name somewhere, but couldn't think where. 'What happened?'

  'I don't think they got on. Isabella is a year or so older, but like all Madeiran girls, has been brought up very strictly. I don't think she approved of Libby's appearance or her rebelliousness.'

  'Is Sally planning to come to your anniversary party?'

  'She wouldn't promise.' A tear forced itself out from behind Valerie's closed eyelids, and Dodie grasped her hand in sympathy. Valerie took a deep breath. 'She's so happy with Greg. I don't want to risk that, she's has such a rotten time with men so far. When Alex went off with Emma I thought she'd go quite to pieces. By the way, did I tell you Emma's here on the island with her new husband? He's an American, a writer of thrillers, I believe, and quite famous. Bruce Jellicoe, his name is, though I don't read that kind of violent fiction. Goodness, Dodie, I'm going on so much about my own affairs, you must be bored stiff.'

  'Rubbish. You need to get it out of your system, and if I know men, Bill just won't listen. He'll tell you not to worry, it'll all come right in the end. When what you need is to talk.'

  Valerie looked gratefully at her. 'Only another woman understands. I was so desperate I almost contacted Emma. I know Libby admired her when her father was married to her.'

  'Why don't you? Is she sensible?'

  'I hardly know her. She got rid of Alex faster than Sally did, at any rate! That says something about her.'

  'Give her a ring. Where is she staying? At one of the hotels?'

  'No, out in a rented villa near Point Garajau. Shall we drive out this afternoon? Libby's out with David today, so she needn't know. Gosh, I feel like a naughty schoolgirl myself! But Dodie, will you come with me? I'd feel easier to have you along too.'

  Dodie agreed, thankful to see her friend looking more cheerful. They went back to Valerie's house for lunch, and were just about to set off to see Emma when the maid announced a visitor.

  'Senor Ross,' she said, and Dodie blinked rapidly as Valerie's erstwhile son-in-law walked into the room.

  Was there no end to tall, dark men who reminded her of Jake? she wondered angrily. She wanted to forget him! Then she recalled that Alex Ross had won several acting parts Jake had auditioned for, much to her son's jealous fury. They were the same type, not very different in age, a difference that was made smaller by Jake's greying hair and Alex's youthful vigour.

  He was greeting Valerie in a friendly manner, and Dodie was amused to see that Valerie was responding to his charm and good manners. When Valerie introduced him to her, Dodie was impressed that he immediately recalled the name of her most famous film, obscure though it had been to all but real cinema addicts.

  'What are we to do with my wretched daughter?' he asked ruefully after Valerie had explained the situation and they sat drinking coffee. 'I can't take her home, but I have a week free before the next audition. I'll stay and try to talk some sense into her. I have to go back for the audition, and I'll try to fix up another school while I'm in England. I could come back until January if you think it would help. Perhaps Sally will be here by then.'

  'Would you like to stay in our studio, in the garden?' Valerie asked impulsively. 'It's just the one room, under the garage, but it's quite large. It would be nice for Libby to have you near.' And someone else to share the responsibility, she added to herself.

  'That's kind of you. Yes please, Valerie.'

  'It's always kept ready. I'll get Luisa to show you where everything is. We were just going to see Emma. Oh!'

  'Emma? Not my ex-wife?' he asked quizzically. 'Is she here?'

  'Yes. And I thought – well, Libby did seem to get on well with her while – while you were married.'

  'It might work. Don't worry, Valerie. We're still, as they say, good friends. She just preferred Bruce and his greater fame and earning power. Would you mind if I crash out on a bed now? I'd just got home from California, got your messages, and rushed straight here. I was lucky to get a seat, but I won't be able to talk sense into Libby until I've had twelve hours of deep sleep.'

  *

  Libby escaped into the lane behind the house. She was fuming. Her father hadn't been in the least sympathetic. He was threatening to find her a school which sounded more like a prison since, he said, she wasn't responsible enough to be trusted at one which expected their older pupils to behave like adults. She'd show him.

  She bumped slap into the man who came out of a narrow gateway from another of the houses. As he grabbed her to prevent her from falling, she looked up and gasped. 'You're Jake Jakes.'

  'Fame at last,' he drawled. 'Are you hurt?'

  Impatiently Libby shook her head. 'I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going. I was mad at my father. He's not really much like you,' she went on, studying him closely.'

  'Should he be?'

  'Well, people say you're terribly alike. You always seem to be auditioning for the same parts.'

  'Look, who is your father?' Jake demanded suspiciously.

  Libby grinned at his tone. 'I'm not playing the star-struck fan, honest. Alex Ross is my father. I'm staying with my mother's parents, just along here. Do you know them? Their name's Thorn.'

  He shook his head. 'I've only just moved here. So you are dear Alex's daughter. Let's walk down into town and we can get a drink. Why is he making you angry?'

  Libby told him, and was soothed by his obvious sympathy. When he suggested it would be fun if she sneaked out to a disco that evening, she readily agreed. 'I can get out at the back, there's a door by the garages which is never locked,' she told him.

  'Then I'll meet you there. And help you cock a snook at your stuffy father.'

  *

  'Isabella, are you in the bathroom again? Hurry up, I need it!' Pedro called, hammering impatiently on the door. Isabella emerged, white-faced, and Pedro looked closely at her.

  'Have you been sick again?' he demanded suspiciously, just as Maria came to investigate the noise he was making.

  'It was the fish last night
,' Isabella said quickly. 'The piece I had must have been off.'

  'No fish served in my hotel or my home is ever off,' Maria exclaimed, enraged. 'And why are you not dressed yet? The hotel is full, and we have so much to do. But before we do anything I'll have the truth out of you. You are being sick too often. Come, now, into your room. I won't be defied any more.'

  Isabella shuddered when she recalled the rest of that day. Her mother had raged at her for what seemed like hours, stopping only when she was hoarse and exhausted. Then her grandmother and uncles had arrived, and Uncle Manuel had started. They'd all shouted at her, but he had been the worst. Rui had come, briefly, but said nothing apart from a quiet hope that she was well. His patent hurt had affected her more than any of the shouting, for she was used to being scolded by her mother and her uncles.

  She was proud that she hadn't betrayed Jake. He wouldn't have to face her family's anger. She didn't regret loving him, she told herself defiantly. She had never been away from Madeira, not even to mainland Portugal, and his stories had finally made real to her what sort of life was available outside, something previously seen only through cinema and television. She hadn't before known more than a faint wish to experience it, and some slight jealousy that her brothers had been sent to her father's old school in England, but now, as well as shame about having an illegitimate baby here in a religious community where everyone knew her, she possessed a fierce if secret determination to escape. Jake had gone to England for an audition, one he was sure to be successful in, he'd said. He would be able to do that as well as the series he was already signed up for. She missed him intensely, but he'd warned her he might not be able to return immediately. Flights were often fully booked at this time of year. He'd come for her soon, though. He would have to start rehearsals in January, and then he'd have the money to be able to care for her properly. Isabella smiled, comforted. He would take her away, they would have a wonderful life together, and until then she would be strong for her child.

  It was a pity about Rui. She'd been content at the prospect of marriage to him before she'd met Jake, and she didn't want him to be hurt. In a way she still loved him, but he wasn't exciting and dangerous, like Jake. He was kind and would have treated her considerately. Guiltily she wondered whether it would have been different in bed with Rui. If she was completely truthful she hadn't much enjoyed sex with Jake. She'd been flattered he wanted her, spurred on by knowing he preferred her to the more worldly-wise girls he knew. The reality, instead of being the earth-shattering event she'd expected from her covert reading of the lurid romances hotel guests sometimes left behind, had been uncomfortable and messy. Jake seemed to have enjoyed it, though, and after their hasty couplings had collapsed beside her into an oblivion which eluded her. Maybe, when it wasn't all so strange, and when they could use a bed instead of the hard rocky paths beside the levadas which dug into her back, she would learn to enjoy it too.