The Girl from Lace Island

by Joanna Rees

  ‘Boyfriend and girlfriend. That’s something,’ Tony said. ‘Well, that certainly explains why we haven’t seen you for a while. When do we get to meet him?’

  ‘Soon,’ Jess lied. She wouldn’t be bringing Blaise here to Tony’s gym anytime soon. She wiped her sweating face on her towel, realizing how old and tatty it was. She looked around her at the gym, seeing it through new eyes. Had it always been this dreary and shabby? The hole in the roof had got worse and one of the buckets of water below it was full.

  She couldn’t help comparing it to the gyms in the hotels around the world she’d been in recently. She wanted to blurt out all the details of the spa in Iceland, but she sensed Tony wouldn’t want to hear it.

  ‘I don’t know. It doesn’t sound like you’ve had much downtime to get to know him.’

  Jess shrugged. ‘When you know, you know,’ she said with a smile, but Tony glanced up at her with a frown.

  ‘All I’m saying is, don’t go rushing into something and giving your heart away. It’s still quite soon after Angel and all that business.’

  ‘I’m not.’ Jess felt defensive. Angel’s death felt like years ago. Everything had changed since then. ‘Tony, he’s a multimillionaire. Do you know what that means?’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ he said, putting a pile of battered five-pound notes in a leather pouch. He looked away and Jess sensed a sadness in him. ‘He’s still just a guy.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t like him just because he’s rich. But nothing like this has ever happened to me. Him being who he is just makes life, well, easier. And he’s so generous. I mean, he’d do anything for me. If I asked him, I’m sure he could get the roof fixed here.’

  ‘Oh! You’re spending his money for him now, are you? No, Jess, I don’t need a handout from your rich boyfriend.’

  She’d thought Tony would be pleased for her, that he’d be thrilled that her dream had come true, but as she accompanied him outside, refusing his offer of dinner at his flat with Maeve, she felt unsettled. She knew she’d handled it all wrong – shoving her rich boyfriend down Tony’s throat – but he didn’t understand how much Blaise had already changed her life. Why wasn’t he more pleased for her?

  Back at the Dorchester, Jess found that Blaise was still on his phone. She took a long shower in the sumptuous bathroom, then blow-dried her hair, waiting for him to finish.

  She felt nervous about meeting Blaise’s colleagues tonight and wished she knew more about his business life. He tended to brush away her questions, saying it was boring and he didn’t want to talk about work, but Jess was desperate to know everything about what he did when they weren’t together. Besides, his property business sounded exciting.

  She glanced round the door, but he was still on the phone, and he held up his hand, telling her he’d be with her soon. Who could he be talking to for this long?

  Maybe it wasn’t a business call. Maybe he was talking to an ex-girlfriend. Jess gave herself a mental slap for being so paranoid and thinking such a disloyal thought. Blaise had never given her even the slightest cause to distrust him. But even so, she still only had a vague sense of his sexual history and past relationships.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about other partners. There’s only you for me now,’ he’d said, late one night in bed. At the time, Jess had thought that had been a romantic thing to say, especially since he seemed to mean it, but she couldn’t help wondering why he was so secretive about his emails and calls if he had nothing to hide.

  With time running out until they had to leave for his business dinner, Jess had no choice but to get dressed.

  A short while later, she walked from the bedroom into the sitting room, her high heels sinking into the carpet. She saw Blaise quickly shutting his laptop; then he stood up and did a long wolf whistle.

  ‘Wow,’ he said, grinning and stretching out his arms. ‘You look knockout.’

  ‘It’s sparkly, right?’ she said with a grin, fingering the diamond necklace. ‘I’d better not lose it. I’ll take it back tomorrow’

  ‘Er . . . well, that won’t be necessary,’ Blaise said, smiling at her with a guilty shrug.

  ‘Blaise?’ she protested. ‘Oh God. Tell me you didn’t.’

  ‘I couldn’t help it. I know you wanted to hire it, but it seemed a shame to give it back,’ he said, coming over to her and trying to kiss her.

  ‘You are impossible,’ she said, slapping him. She didn’t have time to argue with him over the necklace now, but she was cross that he’d disrespected her wishes. She saw now that she didn’t have a leg to stand on. She should never have gone into Cartier in the first place. ‘Come on. You’ve got to get ready,’ she said, seeing he was still in his jeans. ‘What have you been doing all this time?’

  ‘Just emails. Business stuff.’

  ‘Anything exciting?’

  ‘Yes, actually,’ Blaise said, surprising her.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I was talking to a business associate, Serge. He’s invited us on his yacht in Ibiza.’

  ‘Us?’

  ‘I’m not going on my own to party in Ibiza. You’ll come, won’t you? Serge’s yacht is off the clock. And his wife, Ivana, is brilliant. You’ll have to book time off work. It’ll be a holiday.’

  ‘OK,’ she said, but she felt nervous. How would she ever fit in on a mega-yacht?

  In the limousine that Blaise had ordered, Jess sat in the back on the soft leather seat watching the lights of Hyde Park.

  ‘Seeing London like this makes it look so beautiful,’ she said. ‘I usually cycle round it or take the bus.’

  ‘I’d like to see the places you know,’ he said. ‘The places you hang out.’

  ‘No, you wouldn’t. Believe me.’

  Jess stared out of the window. She couldn’t take Blaise back to the flat. He had no idea where she had come from – and just how desperate it had been. The world she’d lived in and his world? Well, they just didn’t gel. He would be horrified at the standards she’d so readily put up with.

  Besides, the flat was too full of memories of Angel. The longer she stayed away, the easier it was for Jess to pretend that she’d started over and the past had gone.

  ‘So, tell me,’ she said brightly, changing the subject, putting all thoughts of the flat, of Angel, firmly to the back of her mind. ‘Who are we meeting?’

  ‘It’s just some property investors. Associates.’

  ‘Where’s the property? Is this one you’re doing up?’

  Blaise looked at her as if weighing up whether to tell her or not. ‘Well, it’s all very confidential, but there’s this island off the south-western coast of India. Not far from the Maldives.’

  Jess smiled, her imagination whirring. India. How exotic. That was another place high up on her list.

  ‘An island? Sounds glorious.’

  ‘It will be. At the moment, it’s wild.’

  ‘So . . . can we go there?’ Jess asked hopefully. She thought about the poster in her flat, the one Angel had given her. She looked at Blaise. Would he be the man who walked along the desert island beach with her? Was this really all her fantasies coming true?

  ‘Well, once we own it.’

  ‘You’re going to get your own island?’ Jess asked, her mind racing. ‘What are you going to do with it?’

  ‘We’ll develop it into a luxury resort, most probably.’

  ‘So you’re buying the whole thing?’

  Blaise twisted his lips and looked out of the window. ‘Kind of more acquiring it. It’s complicated.’

  Jess had been expecting the business dinner to take place in a posh restaurant, or a private dining room, but to her surprise, the car drove the short way to a casino in Knightsbridge.

  The entrance round the side of the building was dark and gloomy, and the man on the door had a gold tooth and a wire snaking up the side of his neck into an earpiece. He looked like he’d once been a boxer.

  Blaise smiled nervously, taking Jess’s hand and leading her to a p
lush lift with a red interior. She could see her diamonds glinting in the tinted mirrors. The lift went down, swallowing them into the depths of the building, and Jess felt a momentary flash of fear. This wasn’t what she’d been expecting at all. She gripped Blaise’s hand tighter.

  They stepped out into what looked like a very private club, with dark leather booths. Jess saw a woman in a bikini writhing round a metal pole near a bar area, where a good-looking barman was polishing glasses. What was this place? She stared at Blaise, but he didn’t meet her eye.

  Surely Blaise didn’t hang out with the kind of people who came to places like this. It was so seedy. What was happening?

  They walked through the club to the booth right at the very end and Jess felt as if everyone was watching them. She might have got it all wrong, but she knew how to sense a criminal crowd. And this place had her hackles up.

  Blaise’s business was all above board, wasn’t it? she panicked. He was honest and decent. So why were they here?

  At the end booth, Blaise stopped and a man stood up, dressed in a grey pinstriped suit. He was Asian, with greying hair.

  ‘Hello, Blaise,’ he said. His accent was thick. ‘You’re late.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I—’ Blaise began, but the man suddenly turned and stared at Jess.

  ‘So this is her,’ he said.

  Blaise scratched the side of his head. Jess noticed a sheen of sweat on his neck just above his collar. She glared at him, wanting to know what was going on and who the scary man was, but again Blaise didn’t meet her eye.

  ‘This is . . . er . . . Jess,’ he mumbled. ‘My girlfriend.’

  ‘I am enchanted to meet you,’ the man said, bowing his head slightly. ‘Please, come and join me. Have a drink.’ He gestured for her to sit in the booth. Then, without taking his eyes off her, he removed a thin brown cigarette from a packet on the table and lit it. He took a deep drag.

  ‘Haven’t you done well, Blaise,’ the man said, before exhaling, and Jess felt the pungent smoke swirl round her neck, like a noose.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Lace Island, 1990

  Most of the other guests had left Lace Island and the bungalows on the beach were all empty except Adam’s. Leila looked anxiously around her before rapping on the thin wooden front door. She hated Chan for making her come here, but what choice had she had? She needed to do whatever it took to stay under his radar, so that she could go diving with Rasa. She stared out at the blue horizon. Rasa would be waiting for her by now.

  Her Rasa. After last night, he’d filled every second of her thoughts. She didn’t care about Parva’s warning this morning. Whatever happened between her and Rasa was nobody else’s business.

  The door opened, jolting her out of her thoughts, and Adam leant against the door frame, a beer in his hand.

  ‘Leila. What a nice surprise. Come in, come in,’ he said. ‘You look pretty today, don’t you. All dressed up for someone? For me?’

  ‘I just came to give you this. I’ve got to go,’ Leila said. She thrust the envelope at him impatiently.

  ‘Don’t look so scared. I don’t bite,’ Adam said, laughing, his white teeth flashing at her, as he slowly took the envelope. Leila bit her lip, wishing he’d hurry up, hating being here with every fibre of her being.

  Adam opened the envelope and took some papers part of the way out and nodded, before taking a sip of beer. ‘You have to come in. I need to sign this and you’ll have to take it back to the house. Come,’ he said, cupping his hand and waving for her to follow him inside the bungalow.

  Leila wanted to scream with frustration. She looked behind her, along the wooden path to the white sand of the beach. The palm trees leant invitingly down towards the water, crows pecking the bark. Rasa would be firing up the engine by now.

  She could take the signed papers on the boat with her and give them to Chan later. She stepped inside the door, praying that Adam would hurry up.

  ‘Why the rush?’ Adam said, staring at her from where he’d pulled the papers out on a small wooden table.

  ‘I’m late to meet someone, that’s all. It’s a busy day.’

  ‘Aha. Oh yes. Your friend,’ he said. His tone was mocking, and his eyes glittered with menace. Leila wished she hadn’t said anything. ‘Come, come, though, just a friend? I’ve seen the way you look at him,’ he said, with a sly smile.

  Leila cast her eyes down, annoyed at what he was implying. Rasa was nothing to do with him.

  ‘I bet he wants you, that Rasa. I bet he wants you like I do,’ Adam said, leaving the papers and beer on the table and taking a step towards her.

  Leila backed away from him. He wanted her? He’d said it so casually, but she knew that he meant sexually.

  ‘Oh, don’t be coy. Since we’re having this chat, you might as well know that I saw you watching me and Monique.’

  Her hand trembled violently as it groped behind her for the door handle, but Adam moved fast. In a second, he’d slammed the door shut, making her jump back. He moved so that he was standing close to her now, pressing her back against the closed door. He brushed the hair away from her shoulder and kissed her neck.

  ‘You are delicious,’ he said. ‘Like a peach. I want to eat you all up. I have since the first moment I saw you. And I think I’m more deserving than your fisherboy.’

  His breath was hot and disgusting in her ear. She froze as behind her, she heard him pushing the bolt across the door. She squeezed her eyes shut, visions of Sussman filling her head. Because it was the same feeling. The same feeling of terror and helplessness.

  She had to get away, but there was no other way out apart from the garden. She darted forward, aiming for the door, but Adam was faster, anticipating her move and blocking her escape.

  ‘Don’t play hard to get,’ he said, grabbing her wrist. ‘You’ve known all along that I intend to have you.’

  Leila was desperate. ‘Stop. Please. You’re hurting me.’ She tried to wrestle her arm away, but his grip tightened. How could she get out of here? How could she get to Rasa? Terror reared up in her as she ducked, trying to wrestle free, but he was too strong.

  He wasn’t going to let her go.

  She tried again, a yelp of pure fear escaping her lips as she saw the intent in his eyes.

  ‘Well, yes. I guess I will be hurting you a bit, but losing your virginity always does hurt a little, I’m told. You are a virgin?’

  Leila’s teeth started chattering uncontrollably as she spoke. ‘Let me go. Please. I’ll scream.’

  Adam laughed, mocking her. ‘You’ll scream? And who will hear you, little one? Your fisherboy?’

  Quickly, he let go of her wrist and grabbed her in a vicelike hold round her waist and moved her towards the bed. She kicked her legs, but he was too fast and too strong for her. She saw that there was a large brown suitcase open and neatly packed on the ottoman. A gun was on the top of the crisscrossed elastic. He threw her roughly onto the teak bed, where she bounced slightly and scrabbled backwards towards the soft pillows, but he was on all fours coming after her.

  He pulled at the top of her shorts jumpsuit, breaking the strap, and she cried, hot tears bursting from her eyes. He yanked the string of her halter-neck bikini and pulled it down to expose her breasts. She saw a white fleck of spittle on his lip.

  This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening.

  Leila felt herself trembling violently as she struggled for breath. She squeezed her eyes shut, huddling her knees up against her.

  Think. Think, she willed herself.

  ‘Oh no. Look at me,’ he said in a hoarse whisper, leaning in and pulling her chin. It hurt. She stared at him, wide-eyed with terror. His mouth was pulled back into an ugly grin, and sweat popped on his forehead.

  He pulled at her blue jumpsuit, taking her bikini bottoms down with it. Desperately, she looked through the mosquito netting over at the gun on the suitcase, wondering how to get it, but there was no time.

  In a second, he’d wedg
ed her legs apart with his knees, and she saw that he’d opened his yellow shorts. He held his large erect penis in his hand, like it was a weapon.

  ‘No,’ she screamed out. ‘No!’

  ‘Yes. Oh yes. This is what all the girls want, believe me. I know. You saw how Monique loved it. And you’ll love it too.’

  ‘Please,’ she sobbed. ‘Please don’t. Please . . .’

  He laughed, a soft, indulgent laugh. ‘You’ll thank me for this one day,’ he said, spitting into his hand and caressing the end of his penis. Leila felt blood in her mouth where she’d bitten her cheek.

  Visions of Rasa filled her head – his eyes, the way he’d told her that he’d look after her and defend her, teach her to fight. But where was he now?

  ‘Rasa, help me,’ Leila screamed, but even before she’d finished, Adam had grabbed her throat, choking her into silence.

  ‘Shut up. Nobody is coming. It’s just us,’ he said, coming towards her now, looking down between her legs, wanting to guide himself inside her.

  Finding her strength, Leila kicked away from him with a furious yell. In a second, she’d dived at the edge of the bed, determined to get through the mosquito net to the gun.

  She was going to get the gun. She was damn well going to shoot him dead.

  This could not happen.

  But he was right behind her.

  ‘You want it the hard way, huh?’ His arms were tight round her waist, bending her over the bed like a rag doll.

  And then he was kneeling in between her legs, holding her thighs in his vice-like grip and forcing himself inside her.

  Outside, the crows broke from the trees into the sky.

  PART THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Ibiza, present day

  ‘I said I wanted three ice cubes,’ Ivana snapped, her English heavy with a rough Russian accent, her pink, bejewelled talons holding the glass aloft. Jess watched the young stewardess on the mega-yacht flinch before taking back the glass.

  ‘Sorry. I’ll change it,’ the girl said, spinning on her tanned bare feet, one arm behind her back in her smart navy uniform, and heading through the tinted sliding door to the salon.