The Girl from Lace Island

by Joanna Rees

  ‘Why? What’s wrong with her?’

  He gave her a look and she suspected that he’d been having a conversation with Bibi about their fight last night and Leila knew it was probably better not to interfere.

  Chan pulled her arm, ushering her away. ‘Tell me what you’ve been up to,’ he said. ‘I’ve hardly seen you.’

  ‘I’ve been around,’ Leila said, confused. There was something odd about his tone. About the way he was speaking.

  ‘Oh? Doing what?’

  ‘Nothing much. Exploring.’

  ‘Find anything unusual?’ Chan asked, and Leila stiffened as his eyes bored into hers. She’d never been scared of him before now, but the look he gave her made her heart thump very hard. Did he know she’d been to the lighthouse? Worse, did he know she’d seen Adam and Monique?

  ‘No. Nothing,’ she lied.

  Chan held her gaze for a second longer, then turned away and lit a cigarette. And that’s when Leila knew for sure: Chan was hiding something.

  She would have to tell Bibi. And soon.

  But getting Bibi alone was difficult. All morning Leila waited for her mother to get up, and when she did, she was in a fractious mood and sent Leila off on an errand to get Parva. When Leila got back, Bibi was talking to Anjum; then some guests came up to the house so that Bibi could show them around the kitchen garden. Surrounded, as she always was, by the affairs of Lace Island, Bibi seemed happy and in control, but Leila noticed a pallor to her she hadn’t seen before, anxiety etched into the creases round her eyes.

  It was almost evening before Leila got an opportunity to sneak out and find Rasa, but Chan stopped her just as she was getting on her bike and insisted that she help serve the guests. He seemed cross, as if she’d let him down, and he reminded her of her earlier promise to help him and Bibi out, although Leila couldn’t remember making such a promise at all.

  When Bibi arrived on the terrace, she looked like she always did, her glossy black hair perfect in its shell clip, her orange sari resplendent with gold embroidery, but now Leila saw her pausing by the screen door and wincing in pain.

  She went to hug her mother, but Bibi stepped away, as if she couldn’t bear being touched.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Leila asked.

  ‘Of course I am. I’m fine,’ her mother snapped, making Leila recoil. ‘Why? Why do you ask that, Leila?’

  Leila swallowed hard, her mother’s defensive tone confirming her worst fears. ‘Chan said you were resting this morning.’

  ‘Did he?’

  She saw her mother’s sharp eyes scanning the terrace, looking for Chan.

  ‘Ah, the beautiful Bibi.’ It was Adam. He wafted in a cloud of strong cologne onto the terrace from the pool steps as if he owned the place. ‘Leila,’ he added, in a very knowing tone. ‘How nice to see you again.’

  ‘Have you had a pleasing day, Adam?’ Bibi asked. Her charming manner betrayed nothing of the tension she’d shown to Leila just now.

  ‘Not so much today, but yesterday was quite exhausting,’ he said. ‘Well, Leila will tell you.’

  He sat in the canopied chair just as Chan also appeared at the top of the pool steps with bottles of tonic tucked under his arm.

  ‘She’s quite the little spy, your daughter,’ Adam said to Bibi, after accepting the offer of a gin and tonic from Chan. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was way beyond her years. She certainly has a hunger for experience.’

  Leila felt her heart thudding hard as his eyes bored into hers. He’d seen her, then. He knew that she had been up the tree all along.

  Her cheeks pulsating with shame, she busied herself, hurrying to the sideboard for the snacks, avoiding both her mother and Adam.

  Now, there were voices from inside the house and Marc and Monique came onto the terrace through the screen door. She had her arm linked over his and was giggling at something he was saying. Leila didn’t even glance in Adam’s direction.

  ‘Leila, I don’t know what you’ve been doing, or where you’ve been going, but do not stick your nose into the guests’ business. Do you hear me?’ Chan hissed, suddenly by her side. ‘Do not displease Mr Lonegan. He is important to us. Whatever he wants he must have while he’s here. Anything at all.’

  Even if that meant other people’s girlfriends, Leila thought bitterly. She watched as Adam sat back smugly in his chair, surveying everyone as if this were his kingdom. When he caught her eye, he winked at her and raised his glass.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  New York, present day

  Jess had only ever seen apartments like Blaise’s New York bachelor pad in movies.

  ‘Wow,’ she laughed, spreading out her arms as she walked out of the old-fashioned crate lift they’d just come up in and doing a twirl on the parquet flooring as Blaise turned on more lights.

  ‘You like it?’ he called, his voice strange in the open-plan space. The room was huge, three sides made entirely from glass, with views of the skyscraper next door. Three square cream pillars held up the double-height ceiling. There was a massive L-shaped sofa between two of the pillars, and low, artfully scuffed-up leather armchairs. On one side of the apartment, steps led up to a kitchen area with lots of exposed brickwork and expensive-looking cooking pans on display, and a spiral staircase led up to another floor.

  ‘I love it. There’s so much space,’ Jess said, failing to mask her awe.

  Her head was busy doing calculations. She’d had no real sense of Blaise’s wealth before now and just how rich his property-development business had made him. So he had a motorbike in Miami and the use of a swanky power-yacht, and he flew first class, but this apartment made her start to realize exactly how rich he must be.

  And he was clearly single. There was no doubt about that. There was no sign that any girlfriend had ever lived here. She was still buzzing from their chat on the bridge earlier, when he told her that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. And that kiss. That kiss. Oh my God. Jess bit her lip, stifling an exuberant laugh. He was only just about the best kisser in the world.

  ‘Come and see this,’ Blaise called. ‘You’ll love it.’

  She ran across the floor towards him and he led her up the spiral staircase. He unlocked the door at the top and pushed against it, the expensive seal making the silence turn into the sound of the city. Outside was a wide balcony that housed several designer sofas and a black wood burner. Just the part in between the sofas and the chair was the size of Jess’s entire flat at home.

  ‘You said it wasn’t a penthouse!’ Jess exclaimed, laughing. ‘I’d definitely say that we’re up on the roof.’

  How was it possible to live in this much space? To own it? Claim it, just for yourself? No wonder wealth gave you so much power. Jess could understand it now, she thought, as she went to the edge of the balcony and looked out over the rooftops. It felt like she owned it all – like she could swoop down and claim anything she wanted.

  ‘Do you do much entertaining?’ she asked, nodding to the barbeque. She’d only ever eaten food from a disposable barbeque, but that looked like a seriously expensive piece of kit.

  ‘Not really. Sometimes,’ he said, with a shrug. He grinned at her, his hands in his pockets as if he were shy. Who exactly did he entertain? she wondered. Who were the people sophisticated and cool enough to come here just to hang out? Movie stars? Models? Probably. Certainly people who took an apartment like this in their stride. ‘I haven’t lived here long. So . . . what do you think?’ Blaise asked.

  ‘What do I think?’ she asked, laughing. ‘I think it’s amazing. Possibly the coolest place I’ve ever been.’

  ‘Really? Then I must take you to some cooler places.’ She couldn’t tell what he meant. Was he teasing her for her naivety? She felt wrong-footed, but then he grabbed her round her waist, pulling her into his embrace.

  ‘So now that I’ve got you here, let me entertain you. Would you like a nightcap?’ he asked.

  ‘Sure,’ she nodded.

  He
walked towards a cupboard by the barbeque. ‘Ah,’ he said, opening it to reveal a fridge. He pulled out a bottle of champagne. ‘That’ll do.’

  Jess wondered if he’d put the champagne in there earlier. Had he known all along that she’d be coming up here to his apartment with him, or did he always have a chilled bottle of pink Dom Pérignon for moments such as these? He picked up a remote and flicked it, and suddenly, there was music and funky big-bulbed lights lit up, which she hadn’t noticed before. Adele’s ‘Make You Feel My Love’. One of her favourite songs. She smiled. Could he read her mind?

  ‘Ta da.’

  ‘Smooth,’ Jess said, walking towards him, nodding at how incredible this all was. ‘Very smooth.’

  He gave her two chilled glasses from the fridge to hold, and he opened the champagne and expertly popped the cork.

  ‘What shall we drink to?’ she asked, as he poured the liquid.

  ‘To fate,’ he said. ‘To us.’

  She smiled at him, and as their glasses chinked together, she felt her emotions fizzing with excitement too. It was those blue eyes of his. They seemed to sweep her up, and she found herself grinning back at him, feeling completely alive in this amazing moment. Blaise took a sip of his champagne and then took her glass from her hand and put it down. ‘I want to dance with you,’ he said.

  ‘I can’t. I mean, I don’t really dance—’

  ‘You do now,’ he interrupted her, sweeping her into his arms, so she had no choice, the lyrics of the song coursing through her.

  She fitted perfectly into his arms, she thought, feeling his soft hand enclose hers. She laughed as he danced with her expertly around the balcony, not allowing her to trip up, the lights of the city all around them. And once again Jess felt like she was in a scene from a movie, it felt so magical.

  ‘It’s so nice getting to know you,’ he said, smiling. She stared at the dimple in his cheek, wishing she could touch it. ‘I’ve had such a fun night.’

  She took a breath. He really had forgiven her, then, for lying to him in Miami. He really was accepting her just for herself. ‘Me too. But . . .’

  ‘But?’

  ‘What’s the catch?’

  Blaise looked surprised. ‘Why, should there be a catch?’

  ‘Yes. There must be a catch. Because this doesn’t happen to girls like me.’

  ‘What doesn’t?’ he asked, twirling her away from him and back into his embrace.

  ‘People like you,’ she said. ‘People rich and handsome and . . .’

  ‘I’m just a guy,’ he said, stopping and cupping her face. ‘And yes, I have money, but I still want what everyone else wants.’

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘To find someone and to fall in love,’ he said, looking at her lips. ‘To feel like fate has finally done me a favour.’

  And, just as she’d felt on the bridge, Jess felt desire rushing through her. She held him tight as he kissed her, and then she was on her tiptoes, kissing back as passionately as she could. She could feel his hardness through his jeans.

  ‘I didn’t expect this to happen,’ he said.

  ‘Neither did I,’ she said, staring at his lips, wanting them back on hers.

  ‘Do you want to stay?’ he asked. ‘You don’t have to. I don’t want to—’

  She put her fingers on his lips. ‘Shhh. Of course I want to stay,’ she said. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

  ‘Then why don’t we go somewhere more comfortable?’ he said.

  ‘I know. It’s weird . . . all these windows,’ she said, laughing and nodding at the skyscraper, as he held her hand. ‘You can’t tell who is watching.’

  He held her hand as they raced back inside the apartment, and he grabbed her as they got to the bedroom. She was already pulling at his T-shirt, desperate to get her hands on his body. He kissed her passionately as he lifted up her shirt, and then he was pulling off her jeans.

  He pushed her back on the bed, and she felt herself trembling all over as he kissed her stomach and the line of her white lacy knickers.

  ‘You are amazing,’ he breathed, as he pulled her knickers down and buried his face in between her legs. She felt his tongue on her and cried out. ‘Oh my God, I want you so much,’ he said.

  Later, Jess awoke in Blaise’s enormous bed, with its grey Egyptian-cotton sheets, and sat up. Blaise wasn’t in bed with her. She stretched, amazed that she’d dozed off, before picking up the cashmere throw and wrapping it round her.

  Wow. Her mind was reeling with how this New York trip had panned out. Because she’d slept with Blaise. Twice. She wanted to do a little jig, or run outside onto the balcony and shout it across the rooftops. Because sex with Blaise had been on a totally different level to anything she’d ever experienced before.

  She had no idea how many girls he’d slept with, but when it came to sex, Blaise was nothing short of an expert. And it wasn’t just that she’d loved him pleasuring her. He was just so gorgeous. His smell, his taut muscles, the way he felt when he was inside her, like they were a perfect match. And now, she couldn’t wait to do it all over again.

  She tiptoed out of the bedroom, into the living room. Blaise was in the far corner, talking on the phone. She ran lightly up behind him, wanting to surprise him. She stared at his back, longing to reach out and touch his muscly shoulders, longing for him to hold her close, for him to come back to bed.

  He hadn’t seen her, and she crept closer now, stifling a giggle; the chill of the apartment was making her skin pucker into goosebumps.

  ‘Yes,’ she heard him say. ‘Yes, I’m sure. It’s her—’ He turned suddenly, his face shocked, his hand flying to the phone. His eyes locked with hers, and in that split second, Jess saw something she hadn’t seen before. Like she’d caught him out. She took a step back.

  She wrapped the throw more tightly round her, suddenly freezing. Who could he be talking to? It’s her.

  Was he talking about her? And if he was, what could he mean?

  She felt fear ripple all over her, but Blaise’s expression suddenly changed.

  He gasped and laughed, covering the moment. ‘You scared me,’ he said to her, pulling her towards him. ‘Sorry, man,’ he said into the phone. ‘There’s someone here. I mean, yeah, I’m sure it’s her turn . . .’ He smiled at Jess, like she’d just witnessed a big joke. ‘Well, just tell her. Mum’ll understand. I gotta go, bro,’ he said suddenly, ending the call.

  Jess couldn’t look at him.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, his voice totally normal.

  ‘Who was that?’

  ‘Just my brother. Family stuff. Mum’s birthday’s coming up.’ He rolled his eyes, then grabbed her. ‘Come back to bed. You gave me such a fright,’ he said, laughing and putting his arm round her. ‘My God, you’re gorgeous. Come here.’

  ‘I thought . . .’ she began, searching his face for the proof she needed, but Blaise stared down at her innocently.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she said, telling herself she was just being paranoid.

  He hugged her in tight and then kissed her hair.

  It was nothing, she decided. He was amazing. And she couldn’t wait to find out what happened next.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Lace Island, 1990

  It was dusk and the air had been heavy and sticky with the promise of rain all day, but despite some distant rumblings of thunder, the sky above Lace Island had stayed resolutely blue, the sun scorching down. Now, the sun having dropped, the air was cooler, the mosquitos making a high whine as they darted around the lagoon.

  Leila slapped one away from her neck as she walked to Maliba’s house. She heard Rasa’s cousins calling out to her from where they were playing cricket in the grove. It seemed like only yesterday that Leila and Rasa were playing with them, but now they all looked like young boys. She waved and smiled.

  Maliba’s house was the largest along the banks of the lagoon. It was painted green and blue like the others, and the front of it opened up o
nto the water. On the other side of the yard, Maliba’s Ayurvedic garden was fenced off, and Leila could see an overgrown hedge bursting with purple-and-yellow flowers as she walked through the gate, careful not to let the chickens escape from the yard.

  ‘It’s Leila. Leila is here, Maliba,’ she heard Rasa’s youngest cousin, Mina, shout, and she grinned and ran from the back porch towards Leila, the door clanking shut behind her.

  Maliba came out onto the porch, rubbing her hands, her blue-and-green sari spattered with white blotches of flour. She bustled down the steps, shooing the chickens out of the way. Leila saw her brown wodge of flesh between her camisole and skirt, but there was something very feminine about Maliba. Her grey hair was tied up loosely, strands of it falling around her face, but her knowing brown eyes were as bright as ever.

  She held Leila’s shoulders and Leila realized that she was now taller than Maliba, who had always been a towering presence in her childhood.

  ‘Goodness me,’ she smiled, before holding Leila’s face, her eyes shining with affection. She kissed Leila on the cheek. She smelt of watermelon and wood smoke, but it was a homely smell that Leila loved. ‘Even more beautiful,’ she sighed, as if that were impossible. ‘Come, come, come. I have been waiting for you and you’ve been back all this time and haven’t been to see me.’

  Leila apologized and followed Maliba into her kitchen, where the air was thick with the smell of frying chillis. Maliba was famous for her chutney and Leila’s eyes started watering. Even so, it was a relief to be here and out of the house, where the tension between Chan and Bibi had been simmering all day. Leila hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that Chan had been watching her, deliberately stopping her from being alone with Bibi. And now Leila had given up altogether. She’d have to get up early and talk to her mother in the morning.

  Maliba fiddled with the oil lamp, until Leila took over.

  ‘I can’t see,’ Maliba grumbled.