Tease (31 page)

Paranoia and foreboding washed over him as he recounted all the things he had disclosed to Richie … those he could recall disclosing at any rate; private things about Tiger, secrets that nobody else knew. It was only because Richie had seemed so in awe of her, a real fan and supporter, and Blue had been so worried about Tiger, like he couldn’t get through to her. And Richie seemed to get him drunk all the time too, and of course, three
Martinis and Blue’s barriers always came crashing down. Well, he was kicking himself now. Tiger would be mortified that he had broken her confidence. Where the bloody hell
was
Richie anyway? He wasn’t even returning his calls. Blue tried to tell himself it was all just a coincidence and it would blow over, but for now, the nagging feeling was here to stay.

‘Oh come on, Lewis, we can do the Italy trip tomorrow; let’s party today. We’ve got four more days remember. Let’s do lunch now and hit the clubs later. Tiger’ll get us the VIP treatment at the Caves du Roy, won’t you, babes?’ simpered Georgia with effortless insincerity.

‘Oh, actually I was hoping to relax today. Can’t we go clubbing tomorrow maybe?’

‘Typical, selfish bitch,’ chuntered Sienna a little too loudly.

‘Excuse me?’ countered Blue.

‘Oh nothing. Bit of a cough,’ replied Sienna, clutching Rex possessively.

‘Oh. I could have sworn I heard you being really
fucking
rude about your sister. Must be going deaf.’

‘Oh fuck off, Blue.’

‘Sorry, dear, I don’t do requests,’ he bit back.

‘Oh stop it both of you!’ snapped Tiger, her fingers pressed to her temples. ‘Look, we don’t have to do everything together. You guys go off and paint the town red. I just need to rest for today and enjoy the sun. The crew will look after me. We can have our own party,’ she laughed.

‘Yeah, I saw how you were looking at the skipper earlier,’ mumbled Sienna. Blue shot her a filthy look and minced off towards his cabin, exhaling loudly.

‘Okay, that’s settled,’ said Lewis, taking command. ‘I’ll take you out for lunch, Georgia, if that’s what you want. Anyone else is welcome to come. Let’s give Tiger some time to herself. Maybe we can eat together on the boat tonight.’

‘Fine, fabulous.’ Tiger smiled, relieved. ‘In that case, please excuse me while I slip into my bikini. Have a nice lunch, guys.’ She gave a little wave and disappeared in the direction of her cabin.

‘Er, actually I think I may stay on the boat for the afternoon,’ announced Rex suddenly. Sienna looked infuriated.

‘Hmm, you changed your mind at the whiff of Tiger in a two-piece,’ she said cattily. ‘In that case I may as well stay on the boat too. This caviar is too delicious to miss anyway,’ she added, clearly determined not to let Rex out of her sight. When Tiger returned ten minutes later in her gold bikini and clutching a well-thumbed trashy novel she was somewhat surprised to find Rex and Sienna obviously settled in for the day on the sun deck, a pregnant silence hanging between them. If a hundred degrees of heat could ever feel frosty, it did now. Tiger shrugged, released her fabulous breasts from her bikini top and stretched out on her lounger, the very picture of a goddess, only looking up from her book to turn up the sound system or order more champagne and canapés.

* * *

The rain poured down, casting a blanket of gloom over the grey cobbled streets. Lance de Brett checked the street name up on the soot-coloured brick wall and pulled up his trench coat collar tightly about his neck. He hastily made his way towards the illuminated beacon of a pub sign up ahead; swinging noisily on its rusty bracket in the wind. Typical Irish summer, he thought ruefully. Lance tucked himself behind a table in the cosy pub. Even though he’d rather perch at the bar, he knew that would feel too much like he was meeting a blind date. He checked in his bag for his Dictaphone and quickly sifted through the photocopies in his folder. He pulled one out. Emma O’Connell, née Ryan. She was a knockout girl in the photo; slim, blonde, angelic looking. It had been taken in her last year of school, when she won an Avon beauty contest at sixteen. It made the local papers. Lance had no idea what she looked like now; he didn’t care. She had information about Tiger Starr that he suspected would rock the boat in every sense. He hoped this was what Sienna was looking for.

The happy group tucked into a fabulous
dégustation
menu on the deck by twilight. Sienna had evidently decided Georgia was worth having as a pal, and the pair seemed to be giggling at everyone and everything. By the time the bottle of Chateau D’Yquem had been polished off with dessert, everyone was in decidedly high spirits. Captain Crowe joined them over coffee and it
was unanimously decided that they would wait until the following evening to take an overnight passage to Sardinia so the ladies could squeeze in some shopping during the daytime.

Tiger felt contented and relaxed as she waved off Sienna and Georgia, who were heading off to the Byblos for a few hours’ cocktails and clubbing together. Lewis and Blue were happily chatting about Saville Row tailors and comparing notes. Tiger closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, drinking in the sounds of the cicadas and the lapping water, tinted with the sounds of chattering revellers, clinking glasses and the muffled thump of music. She felt truly peaceful as the warm summer’s breeze caressed her skin and the faint aromas of sea salt and lavender wafted on the air.

‘I haven’t seen you this chilled out since … well since …’ started Rex softly.

‘I know what you’re going to say,’ said Tiger, eyes still closed. ‘Let’s just leave it as history, huh?’

‘Not since we woke up together in my bed!’ finished Rex.

Tiger snapped her eyes open and her face had clouded.

‘I said let’s leave it,’ she said curtly, her body stiffening. ‘Thank you, Lewis, for bringing us here,’ she said loudly, terminating her exchange with Rex. Lewis and Blue smiled over at Tiger, with Rex continuing to stare at her hotly. ‘What a lovely break, I feel much better. Brilliant idea, Lewis.’

‘Hear hear,’ said Blue, holding up his champagne flute.
‘To good times!’ he said, clinking glasses with Lewis. Underneath the table, Rex grabbed Tiger’s hand. She tensed. He held tight until she relented, before tenderly stroking the underside of her wrist. He knew that was her weak spot.

‘To good times,’ he murmured softly. Their hands intertwined for a brief moment, and Tiger’s eyes locked with his as they clinked glasses, a slight blush spreading across her cheeks. Lewis watched the exchange with a heavy heart.

The rain continued to pour. Lance swigged back his Guinness in the comfort of the pub and mulled over the fruits of his trip. His Dictaphone still sat there on the table; only now bearing the story of Emma O’Connell, Poppy Adams’ erstwhile school friend. It was fair to say Emma was twice the woman she was in her beauty contest photograph. Maybe even three times. But boy did she sing like a songbird. The look of shock on her face when she learnt that her bookish, nerdy schoolfriend Poppy Adams was ‘The’ Tiger Starr; as she continually refered to her. Lance wasn’t sure by the end of the interview if what she felt was bitterness, jealousy, or a grudging admiration for Tiger. No matter. He had the story, and he looked forward to transcribing the interview.

Lance now wondered how best to deliver his material to Sienna. He had school photographs, yearbooks, news-letters, public records and an interview. Following the trail
of Coco, Tiger’s infamous grandma, had led to a dead end. However, after Sienna had provided him with as much background as she could – her parents’ names, mother’s maiden name, all the dates and places of birth she could remember, it had been relatively simple. The internet made things so easy these days. Sienna could have done it herself really, he laughed to himself. But now he couldn’t just give it to her on a plate of course. No, that would be too easy. He’d just give her some signposts. She needed to put in some of the work herself if he was going to let her take a cut of the money that this story would earn. Sienna needed to learn how to do the job properly. Lance didn’t think she’d like the information he’d uncovered very much, but if she was so keen to play with fire then she would have to learn the hard way like everybody else, that she might just get burnt.

Lance decided he would send a nice little package to arrive at the Hunter Gatherers’ office in time for Sienna’s return from St Tropez. He had come to Dublin yesterday feeling a little kick at the thought of adding his own nail to Tiger’s coffin after the way she had insisted on keeping their relationship quiet for seven years under the guise of ‘professional complications’, and wanting to wait for a special moment to make it public; only to then reject his offer of marriage. She had turned peculiar at his declaration of love, and had thrown the words ‘intimacy issues’ around a lot. Lance had thought that was just bullshit. He was a total mess for months after. But Tiger hadn’t
got off lightly – boy, had Lance wreaked his revenge through his reviews. He was determined to be a ghost that haunted her for years. Now he had the means to hurt Tiger in the way she had hurt him, and publicly; the way he knew she would hate most. And with Sienna’s help, she’d never know that he was in any way behind the story that was going to ruin her.

Lance was a tough guy, but he had to admit it had been an unsettling experience talking to Emma O’Connell about someone he had loved so much and thought he had known so well for seven long years. Now he knew he’d been wrong about Tiger all along. She was simply a low-class tart who had been leaving trails of discarded men behind her for years, starting with some local boy at fourteen. Intimacy issues indeed! Promiscuous little whore, more like. The thought that Sienna would, perversely, be the one to initiate the exposé with just a few careful prods from Lance was almost too juicy and too exciting to wait for … and he had ringside seats. He rubbed his hands together and tucked the Dictaphone into his inside pocket, patted it affectionately, and ordered another Guinness.

‘Ohhhh, I think I’m gonna be sick,’ Georgia could be heard moaning loudly from the dining room the next morning. Within seconds she came staggering on to the deck, bleary eyed, wearing only tousled hair and one of Lewis’ shirts, which barely skimmed her knickerless crotch.
Rex whooped with laughter as she lurched onto the main deck and hurled up her breakfast over the side.

‘I’d take an educated guess that’s not seasickness, babes,’ laughed Rex, grabbing a satisfying eyeful as she bent over.

‘Not when the boat’s in the port, no,’ huffed Georgia, righting herself and collapsing onto a lounger, trying in vain to smooth down her dishevelled platinum bob. Seeing Rex leering across at her, she mischievously stretched out her lethally long legs and slowly propped them up on a neighbouring chair, fully intending to torment him with a whisp of a view of pussy.

‘What time did you get in last night then?’ Rex asked.

‘Last night? Huh!’ came Blue’s voice as he sashayed onto the deck, clutching a plate of croissants. ‘You mean you didn’t hear them clattering around at five this morning?’ he said, raising an eyebrow in Georgia’s direction. ‘Good god, girl, I can see the black hole of Calcutta from here. Put it away, will you!’

‘You’re just jealous,’ she mocked cheekily, crossing her legs.

‘Yeah I know,’ agreed Blue. ‘So did I miss anything? Any fit men there last night?’

‘Ooohh …’ Georgia sprung up again and hung her head over the side of the boat, panting, last night’s myriad cocktails threatening to haunt her again. Rex and Blue couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Misty? Is that you?’ came a disembodied voice from
the harbour. ‘Misty? Is that really you?’ Georgia came away from the side, eyes wide and skin white as a sheet.

‘I know it’s you up there! Misty! It’s Carrie!’ Rex and Blue looked at each other and mouthed simultaneously, ‘Misty?’ Georgia took a deep breath and casually sauntered over to the side of the yacht.

‘Hey, Carrie! What a surprise. You’re still knocking around then?’

‘Yeah, baby! Business is booming!’

‘Shhhh! Keep it down, bloody hell!’

‘Sorry! Listen, we thought you were gone for good! We’ve all missed your bony ass. The high rollers still ask after you, you know.’

‘Yeah yeah, keep it down. How come you’re out and about so early anyway? You’re not usually up before lunch.’

‘I was just nosing, I heard a rumour that Tiger Starr was on this boat and I was hoping to get her autograph. And then I see you instead! Dumb rumours as usual. But how cool to see you again! Like fate!’

‘Yeah, fate.’

‘So who’s up there? Room for one more?’

‘Er, not exactly. Tell you what, I’ll meet you for a coffee and we can catch up. Usual place, in say, forty minutes?’

‘Cool.
À bientôt, ma cherie
.’

Georgia turned back to the deck to see Blue and Rex looking up at her incredulously.

‘What?’

‘Oh nothing … Misty.’ Rex stifled a laugh.

‘Oh don’t be ridiculous, Carrie’s an old friend, she’s er – a trolly dolly. Does a lot of flights to Nice. Misty’s just her nickname for me. We all have them, don’t we?’

‘Do we?’ asked Rex, looking at Blue.

‘Well, I hear yours is “King Kong”,’ sniggered Blue.

‘I’m flattered!’ said Rex, looking rather chuffed.

‘Oh I can see you’re both in a stupid mood, I’ll see you later.’ With that, Georgia flounced off in the direction of her cabin. Blue and Rex exchanged knowing looks before dissolving into sniggers again.

‘Are you gonna tell Lewis she used to be a hooker, or shall I?’ asked Rex after a few minutes of general hilarity.

‘Oh don’t. We mustn’t say anything.’

‘What? Don’t you know anything about Lewis? He’d be spitting if he thought we knew something he doesn’t. I have to work with him remember. He’s a nightmare at the best of times, let alone when he’s pissed off about something.’

‘Maybe he’s already acquainted with Misty.’ Blue shrugged, stuffing warm croissant into his mouth.

‘Lewis? I’m not sure that’s his style!’ laughed Rex.

‘True … he doesn’t strike me as someone who pays for it. But you must be able to tell from the technique in bed or something, surely?’