The Club (21 page)

‘That right?’ Tony remarked, clocking up more potentially useful future contacts. ‘You must be very proud.’

‘Oh, I am.’ Smiling, Leonard laced his fingers together over his gut. ‘We Drakes have a prestigious financial history, as it happens. My grandfather was a name in the Bank of England, and amassed himself a fortune from share-trading, which my father inherited and quadrupled before he was thirty. Made quite a name for himself in politics, too.’

‘That why you went into it?’

‘For my sins.’ Leonard grinned. ‘We’re a very traditional family, so the sons tend to follow the fathers. Not that my son followed
me
,’ he added – with a hint of bitterness, Tony thought. ‘You’ll have to meet him sometime,’ he said then, imagining the look on Rupert’s face when he saw the connections his stuffy old father had been making since he and his wife Barbara had last deigned to visit. ‘Perhaps we could arrange a dinner party? I’m sure Avril would be delighted to have you. She’s a wonderful hostess.’

Flicking a surreptitious glance at Eddie who had just come back with a glass of peppermint cordial in his hand, Tony said, ‘That’d be great. And I’m sure Melody would enjoy getting to know her. Give me a call sometime – we’ll work something out.’

‘Oh, I will,’ Leonard said eagerly. ‘I’ll have Avril get on to it as soon as we get home.’

‘You do that,’ Tony said. Then, nodding in Avril’s direction, he said, ‘She’s looking kinda lonely.’

Glancing at his wife, Leonard was about to say that she was fine but quickly decided against it. He didn’t want to give the impression that he didn’t care about her – not when he’d just been gushing about his marvellous family. And not when Tony had admitted that he’d thought Leonard was gay, because that was absolutely the last label a man in his position needed. The general public might be heading in a more accepting direction, but politicians were lagging sadly behind, and Leonard had seen for himself how cruelly and absolutely some of his former peers had been excommunicated when news of that nature leaked out.

‘I guess I should go and pay her some attention,’ he agreed, casting a fond smile in her direction. ‘She’s such a trooper. And my pals adore her.’ Grinning conspiratorially now, he added, ‘Quite jealous, most of them. Wishing they could have a little bit of what
I
get at night – if you know what I mean?’

‘Mmm,’ Tony murmured, wishing the guy would quit the blokey guff and piss off.

‘Lovely-looking woman,’ Leonard went on, still gazing in Avril’s direction as he struggled to get his gut out from behind the table.

‘Sure is,’ Tony agreed, easing his cuff back and glancing pointedly at his watch. ‘Man, look how late it is. Wonder where Melody’s got to.’

‘Right, well, it was good to talk to you,’ Leonard said, loudly enough for the nearby celebrities to hear – making sure they knew that he and Tony were friends. ‘Call you soon about dinner.’

After a quick visit to the toilets to throw up, Melody had gone looking for Fabian. Finding him chatting up two tarty-looking women on the edge of the dance floor, she waved to catch his eye, then slipped back into the shadows to wait for him.

‘Did you get it?’ she demanded when he reached her.

Drawing his head back, Fabian frowned. ‘Is that it? No, “Hello, nice to see you”?’

‘Please don’t play games,’ she hissed. ‘I can’t deal with it right now. I feel like shit.’

‘Yeah, you don’t look so good,’ he agreed, the frown deepening when he noticed her bruised lip. ‘What’s happened to your mouth?’

‘I walked into a door,’ Melody told him evasively.

‘You sure Tony didn’t do it?’ Fabian persisted, worried about her now. And about himself.

‘Course not,’ she snapped. ‘I told you he’d never hurt me. Now, have you got it or not?’

‘Yeah, I’ve got it.’ Glancing nervously around, Fabian pulled the wrap out of his pocket.

Snatching it from his hand, she said, ‘How much?’

‘Later. Go and sort yourself out, then come and find me when you get a minute.’

‘Fabian . . .’ Reaching out as he began to move away, Melody gave an apologetic shrug. ‘Sorry, Babe. I know I’m being a complete shit, but I’m just—’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Fabian cut her off, giving her an understanding smile. ‘We’ll talk later, yeah?’

Squeezing the wrap tightly in her hand when he walked away, Melody slipped back into the ladies’ and locked herself in a cubicle. Laying out a line on the toilet cistern, she leaned down and snorted it straight. To hell with hygiene – she needed this.

‘Are we celebrating something?’ Avril asked, glancing up at Leonard suspiciously when he returned to their table with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

‘We most certainly are,’ he beamed, seeming to have totally forgotten that they had barely been speaking when they’d arrived. ‘I’ve just had a most interesting chat with Tony Allen.’

‘Oh yes?’

‘Yes, indeed. And I’ve invited him and his lady friend to dinner, so we’ll have to get our heads together and come up with something wonderful. Oh, and I was thinking, maybe we should invite the children. It’s been a while since we all got together, and it would be nice to see the little ones.’

Drawing her head back, Avril peered at him incredulously. He detested having the grandchildren in the house, almost as much as they detested coming.

‘To my beautiful wife,’ Leonard said suddenly, handing a glass to her and raising his own. ‘And good times ahead.’

If Avril hadn’t already had the large gin-and-tonic that Tony had sent over, and the two she had ordered for herself in Leonard’s absence, she’d have been highly suspicious of this sudden lift in his mood. But she was feeling quite mellow at the moment – enough to be grateful that her usually dour husband seemed happy for a change. So, touching her glass to his, she smiled.

‘To good times.’

And she damn well hoped he meant it, because she’d had more than her share of bad times recently, enough to last her a lifetime.

Melody felt and looked much better when she came back from the toilets. She’d regained some of her colour, and her eyes were sparkling again.

‘I was just about to come looking for you,’ Tony told her. ‘I had some broad check out the bathroom, but you weren’t there.’

‘The upstairs ones were full, so I had to use the downstairs ones,’ Melody told him, sitting down.

‘Feeling better now?’

‘Yeah, loads. Must have been that chicken I had for lunch. I thought it tasted a bit funky.’

‘Better tell the Drakes not to put chicken on the menu when we go for dinner, then, eh?’ Tony said, handing the peppermint cordial to her. ‘Wouldn’t want you hurling all over their table, would we?’

‘Dinner?’ Melody repeated with a grimace. ‘Aw, not tonight, Tone? There’s no way I can eat tonight.’

‘Nothing’s been arranged yet,’ he assured her. ‘I’ll let you know when, and Eddie can take you shopping for some new clothes.’

‘What do I need new clothes for?’ she asked, not relishing the thought of being babysat by Eddie. Shopping was supposed to be fun, not torture. And how was she supposed to ask him if something suited her when he’d barely said two words to her in three years?

‘These people have got money,’ Tony said, relighting his cigar. ‘We don’t wanna turn up looking like trash, do we?’

‘Tony, honey,’ Melody purred, leaning towards him and flicking her tongue into his ear. ‘I
never
look like trash.’

Tony’s eyes narrowed as the saliva from her tongue left a ghost of a tingle in his ear. If he wasn’t very much mistaken . . .

But, no, she couldn’t have. She didn’t have a single cent in her purse – he’d made sure of that. And nobody was idiot enough to give coke away for free. Anyway, she’d only been to the bathroom, so unless some broad had set up shop in there – which he very much doubted – she couldn’t have got her hands on anything.

Taking a sip of the cordial just then, Melody grimaced. ‘Ugh! What the hell’s
that
?’

‘Peppermint, to stop you feeling sick.’

‘Guaranteed to make me sick, more like,’ she complained. ‘I can’t drink that, hon. Get me a proper drink, will you?’

‘You feeling all right?’Tony asked, his eyes giving nothing away as he watched her wriggle about in her seat.

‘Yeah, I feel great,’ Melody said. ‘Always do after a good vomit. And I love this song.
I don’t see nothing wrong
 . . .’ she sang, squeezing his thigh under the table, ‘
with a little bump and gri-ind
.’ Pouting prettily now, she slipped a finger in through the button of his shirt and played with the hair on his chest. ‘Mind if I go dance while I’m in the mood?’

‘Yeah, why not?’Tony agreed, moving her hand. ‘Find Gay Boy and have a couple of spins with him while I finish my drink.’

‘Thanks, Babe,’ Melody chirped, jumping up without hesitation. ‘See you in a bit.’

Turning to Eddie when she’d gone, Tony said, ‘Go keep an eye on her. She goes near anyone other than the queer, come get me.’

Fabian was having a drink at the downstairs bar when he saw Melody come down the VIP stairs and make her way to the dance floor, where she stood on her tiptoes and looked around. Putting his glass down, he set off towards her, to see if she was okay. He was a bit worried about that bruise on her mouth. There was no way she’d done it walking into a door – but if Tony had done it, what else was he doing to her? She definitely wasn’t her usual self at the moment.

Halfway there, Fabian spotted Eddie in the crowd behind her and stopped in his tracks, half expecting to see Tony as well. Frowning when he realised that Eddie was alone, and that he seemed to be trying to mingle casually while keeping a close eye on Melody, his heart thudded painfully in his chest. Eddie was following her. And it had to be on Tony’s orders. But why? What did he suspect? The drugs – or that she’d been shagging Fabian’s brains out for a solid month?

Shaking wildly now, fearing for his life, Fabian edged back towards the bar, planning to slip quietly away before anybody noticed he’d gone. He would give Jenna a ring on her mobile as soon as he was out, tell her he’d had to rush off to visit his sick mother, or something.

‘Oi, watch it, you wanker!’

Spinning around, Fabian found himself faced by three unfriendly-looking men. The one in the middle was glaring at him, his hand dripping with drink that had spilled out of his glass.

‘Sorry,’ he apologised. ‘I didn’t see you there.’

‘No fucking kidding.’

Sensing that the man was spoiling for a fight, Fabian glanced around for the security guys, but there were none in sight. Needing to stub this out before it escalated and led Eddie straight to him, he switched on his smooth manager smile and offered the man a fresh drink – on the house.

‘On the house?’ The man looked him up and down. ‘You the boss, then, are you?’

‘Manager,’ Fabian told him, waving him towards the bar. ‘Just tell the barman what you want, and I’ll sort it out.’

‘What about me mates?’ The man jerked his head at the others who were smirking over his shoulder. ‘You ain’t just ruined my night, you’ve ruined theirs an’ all.’

Fabian’s nostrils twitched with irritation. The cheeky bastard was pushing it now, but there were still no security guys around so there wasn’t a lot he could do about it. And – worse – Melody had just spotted him and was heading his way, with Eddie in slow pursuit.

Trapped, Fabian smiled his best matey smile at the man who was posing the more immediate threat and said, ‘All right, just this once. But don’t tell anyone, or they’ll all be banging into me for free drinks, eh?’ Going behind the bar then, he clicked his fingers at Maurice en route to the kitchen door. ‘Give them whatever they want, but don’t charge them.’

‘As long as you don’t blame
me
when the receipts don’t tally,’ Maurice muttered to his back. Then, smiling tightly at the three louts, he said, ‘What’ll it be, gents?’

‘Three cognacs’ the man told him, finishing what was left of his original drink and sliding his glass across the bar. ‘
Triples
.’

Reaching the bar just then, Melody eased her way in between the men to ask Maurice where Fabian had gone.

‘Who knows, who cares,’ he muttered, shrugging unconcernedly as he went to get the men their drinks.

Leaning an elbow on the bar, the man Fabian had bumped into gave Melody a lingering once-over. ‘All right, darlin’? Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?’

‘Very likely,’ Melody said, flicking him a mildly dismissive glance. She usually enjoyed being recognised, but she wasn’t in the mood right now.

‘Yeah, I know who you are. You’re that bird out of
Baywatch
.’

Gritting her teeth, she said, ‘No, I’m not.’

‘Yeah, you are,’ the man persisted. ‘I never forget a good pair of tits, me.’ Laughing he held his hands to his own chest. ‘Red swimsuit, running down the beach. Phwoar!’ Clicking his fingers now, he said, ‘Pamela Anderson!’

‘You need glasses,’ Melody told him sharply. Why did people always think it was a compliment to mistake her for that vacuous tart? She was Melody Fisher. Her name spoke for itself. At least, it had started to in the States, but these ignorant thugs obviously hadn’t caught up yet.

‘Gonna let me buy you a drink, then, Pammy?’

‘For Christ’s sake, I am
not
Pamela fucking Anderson. Just back off and go find someone else to wank over, will you!’

‘She likes me,’ the man said, grinning at his mates.

‘In your dreams,’ she muttered, tapping her long fingernails on the bar. God only knew why he thought he stood a chance. He was nowhere near good-looking enough, and he had the worst case of cheap-gold-overload she’d seen since that awful gangsta-rap crew’s album launch in LA last summer.

‘In
my
dreams,’ the man drawled, still grinning. ‘I’ll give you the best fucking dreams you’ve ever had, darlin’.’