The Girl from Lace Island Page 15

  Now, Leila saw Adam hold his erect member in his hand. She felt her heart hammering as she watched Monique smile; then Adam moved upwards towards her face and she greedily ran her tongue over his tip before taking him between her lips.

  Leila felt saliva flooding her mouth and she grew hot all over. She’d never seen anyone having sex and the scene before her was as repelling as it was fascinating. Is this what it was like? Is this what people did? Did they taste each other like this? Did they not feel shy? How could Monique take him in her mouth like that?

  After a while, she saw Adam withdraw from Monique’s mouth and shuffle backwards, opening Monique’s legs wider with his thighs. He turned slightly and Leila froze, thinking he must be aware of her, but he didn’t look up.

  How could that fit inside Monique? she wondered. But Monique clearly wanted it. She lifted her legs and she saw Adam’s eyes flutter shut as he guided himself inside her. Monique cried out before wrapping her legs round Adam’s buttocks, and Leila heard them gasping as they moved together, the slats of the bed banging, Monique clawing Adam’s back.

  Leila squeezed her eyes shut. She felt frozen and yet molten at the same time, confusion threatening to drown her. She shouldn’t be watching them. It was wrong, so wrong and yet . . . she couldn’t help herself. Through one eye, she watched as Monique expertly flicked Adam over, and Leila saw him lying on the bed, his arms behind his head. She watched Monique lowering herself onto him, hearing the slick, slippery sound as she undulated her hips and ground down on top of him.

  She saw Adam suck breath through his teeth, as if the pleasure were an exquisite torture. Monique flicked her long hair back over her shoulders, her lips parted as she fondled her own hard nipples.

  They sped up now and she cried out and Adam sat up, burying his face in her breasts, both of them gasping as if they were in pain. Leila felt sick, longing for this to be over so that she could run away.

  She looked up, the hot sunlight through the leaves blinding her, tears making everything blur. In the distance, she could hear the waves breaking against the shore. She longed to run as fast as she could across the burning sand and fling herself into the sea. She yearned to feel the cool water seep through her hair to her scalp, like an absolution. But she doubted that after witnessing this, she’d ever truly feel clean again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  New York, present day

  Even now, after the meal was over, Jess was still giddy with butterflies. Blaise was here. Right in front of her. In New York. She feasted her eyes on him, effortlessly chatting with the waitress as she left dessert menus for them. Not that Jess could eat another thing after the most delicious ribs she’d ever eaten in her entire life. She smiled to herself to see how obvious it was that the waitress thought Blaise was hot.

  She flashed a grudging look of respect in Jess’s direction and Jess wanted to punch the air. She knew she had to play it cool with Blaise, but she longed to confess that she’d replayed their meeting in Miami over and over in her head, reliving the romance, the sunset, until it was burnt like a movie scene in her memory.

  ‘This was a good recommendation,’ Blaise said, pretending to take his hat off to her.

  Jess grinned. It had been Sue who’d suggested this place in Brooklyn Heights Promenade, but it was clear that Blaise had had to pull strings to get a table at the last moment. She saw the queue of people waiting at the door.

  ‘You want dessert?’ he asked.

  ‘You’re joking,’ she laughed. ‘I’m totally stuffed.’

  ‘Me too. I’m sure glad I caught that flight,’ he said. ‘That’s the best meal I’ve had for weeks. Certainly the best company.’ His eyes met hers and her stomach flipped over.

  ‘About the flight . . .’ she said.

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘Can I ask you something?’

  ‘Ask me what?’

  Only, now she was on the verge of asking for the truth, Jess realized how stupid this might sound. What an idiot she was for even thinking this conversation might be a good idea.

  ‘Nothing. It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Did you . . . ?’ She fizzled out, losing her nerve. How could he possibly understand her feelings about her promotion? And what could she do about it now? She hadn’t stuck up for her principles. She had signed on the dotted line. She’d even started her new job. Complaining about her promotion after the event seemed pathetic.

  ‘I got promoted.’

  ‘So I saw.’

  ‘You didn’t . . . I mean, this might sound crazy, but you didn’t put in a word for me or something?’

  Blaise stared at her, searching her face. His eyebrows furrowed. ‘Do you think I did that?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. It’s all so sudden. And you were the only one who knew I wanted to . . . well . . .’ She fizzled out once more. This was ridiculous. She was ridiculous.

  ‘No. I didn’t say anything,’ he said. ‘To anyone. You can trust me.’

  She felt relief surge through her. He hadn’t tried to interfere after all. Whatever fluke had resulted in her landing her dream job, it hadn’t been Blaise’s doing.

  ‘Uh,’ she said, covering her face. ‘I’m so embarrassed I said anything. Sorry.’

  Blaise laughed softly. ‘Maybe they like you at the airline. You ever think of that?’ he said, and Jess thought of Tony and how he’d told her to believe in herself. What would he make of Blaise? she wondered.

  ‘You’re smart and beautiful,’ Blaise continued. ‘If I owned an airline, I’d want you near my best customers.’

  Jess smiled, flattered by his words, but she still felt mortified. ‘Oh God. You must think I’m—’

  ‘I think you’re great,’ he interrupted, smiling across at her. Then he turned his attention to the jukebox, which had gone quiet during their conversation. ‘You must know this one? Carole King,’ Blaise said, popping a coin into the jukebox. ‘Didn’t you say your mum sang with her? My mum loved Tapestry, her second album. Played it over and over when we were growing up. But I like “Up on the Roof”, which was on Writer.’

  Here it was. The lie again. Coming back to haunt her. Just when she thought she was safe.

  She smiled weakly at Blaise, who sang along.

  ‘I always wanted a cool apartment after this song. In New York, where all my friends could sit on the roof.’

  ‘And did you get it?’ Jess asked.

  ‘Sure. It’s not a penthouse, though. Sadly.’

  Was that where he was staying, then? Jess’s mind was whirling. There was still so much she didn’t know about him. Least of all how he’d managed to engineer to be here with her in New York.

  ‘Shame,’ she said, then regretted it immediately, although he didn’t seem to mind being teased. Come on. Be cool, she cautioned herself. Don’t blow it or scare him off.

  ‘So . . . is that where you call home?’ she asked, wiping her mouth with her napkin and placing it on her plate. It probably hadn’t been very ladylike to chow down the huge plate of ribs she’d just devoured. Blaise was probably used to girls who picked at their food and didn’t eat carbs.

  ‘I have a few places I keep toothbrushes,’ he said, ‘but nowhere has ever struck me as the place I want to stay forever. What about you?’

  ‘I’m nowhere near close to finding home. I keep my toothbrush in my bag,’ Jess said.

  ‘Then do you want to see it? My apartment?’ he asked softly.

  ‘Sure,’ she said, trying to mask her suddenly nervous flush. ‘I fancy walking off those ribs, though.’

  Blaise laughed and called for the bill. ‘Good idea.’

  ‘Can we walk across the bridge?’ Jess said, relieved that she had a bit more time before they were going back to his apartment, and whatever might happen once they were alone there together. ‘I used to watch Sex and the City. I always dreamt about going across it.’

  ‘Then I’d be delighted to accompany you,’ Blaise said.<
br />
  As she strolled alongside Blaise on the wooden walkway, Jess thought the lovely stone arches of the towers at either end of the Brooklyn Bridge and the looping lights between them were even more romantic than the dolphins had been. If that were even possible. Blaise caught her arm as a cyclist shot past them and they stopped, looking out over the rail, the dark water way below. Blaise stepped in closer.

  ‘You can see everything, look,’ she said, awed by the twinkling lights. From here, she could see the lit Statue of Liberty, the Freedom Tower and all the sights between. It made her feel simultaneously small and incredibly alive. Like she was part of this wonderful city.

  He put his arms round her and pressed into the back of her, their heads side by side as they looked at the view. He was hugging her. Cuddling in close. Just like that. Like they’d agreed it. Like they were close.

  She longed to turn in his arms and kiss him. She longed to tell him how much she’d thought about him. Instead, she closed her eyes, breathing in his closeness, wondering how this moment could possibly get any better.

  ‘Come on,’ he said.

  Jess took his arm. He had his hands in his pockets and she liked the feeling of being connected to him like this. They passed a woman with a dog walking the other way and she smiled happily at them, as if they were a couple.

  Were they a couple?

  Was this what this was? What this felt like? She watched the city coming closer and she thought about what was going to happen when they got to Blaise’s apartment. Suddenly, she stopped, furious with herself that she was about to do what she knew she would regret. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

  ‘Blaise, there’s something I’ve got to tell you.’

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘Just before . . . I mean . . . I don’t want you to think . . .’

  ‘Think what?’

  She blew out a deep, pent-up breath. ‘I’m just going to say it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That stuff about my sisters, my mum . . . it’s not true. I made it up. I’m sorry. You see, on the flights, I make up stories because I can be anyone.’ She pressed her lips together, unable to look him in the eye. She couldn’t bear to see if she’d lost him or not. ‘I’m sorry. I had to tell you. I don’t want you to carry on believing I’m someone I’m not.’

  She opened her eyes. Blaise was staring at her.

  ‘So who are you, then?’

  She couldn’t read his tone. He’d broken away from her, and his face looked dark as he stood opposite her. She’d blown it. She saw it then in his eyes.

  ‘I don’t know. I mean, I was taken into care when I was a baby. My mother died. Well, that’s what I was told. I looked into it, but I couldn’t find much out, so I’m not sure it’s true. I had a crucifix of hers. The only thing . . .’ Jess felt a great burst of anguish rising in her chest as his dark look bored into hers. ‘And then my friend died and it was stolen and . . . Oh God . . . I’m so sorry. You don’t need to know any of this and . . .’

  She covered her face, humiliation and shame washing over her. She couldn’t bear to look at him and have to explain. She felt the big canyon in her heart she’d tried so hard to paper over threatening to swallow her up with grief. She felt Angel in her mind telling her what a fool she was. That her honesty had always got her into trouble and now this was the crowning moment. She’d made a huge mistake coming clean.

  But a second later, she felt Blaise’s arms go round her.

  ‘I’m so sorry. It sounds tough,’ he said.

  She pulled away, furiously wiping her tears. ‘I don’t blame you if you want to go,’ she said, sniffing and trying to be brave. ‘I don’t know why you’re even interested in me anyway. So maybe it’s best if—’

  ‘You want the truth?’ Blaise said. ‘Is this what this is about?’

  She nodded.

  ‘OK, well, the truth is, since the moment I saw you on that plane, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I think you’re quirky and cool and unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Oh, and you have quite possibly the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. And I don’t care where you came from, only that you’re here with me now.’ Jess swallowed hard, staring into his eyes as he stepped towards her. ‘OK? Is that enough reasons?’

  She nodded, her chin wobbling, and she smiled.

  ‘Good,’ he said, holding out his hand for her to take. ‘Then let’s go.’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a better idea.’

  Then she grabbed his coat lapels and pulled him towards her. And with his lips on hers, she knew that this moment had changed the course of her life forever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Lace Island, 1990

  The black crows hopped on the grass as Leila swam lengths in the swimming pool. Chan used to swim with her in the mornings, and sometimes Bibi had too, but this morning, the house was still quiet. Leila had heard their muffled argument late last night and heard Chan slamming out of the door, although she had no idea where he’d gone. There was no sign of either Bibi or Chan this morning, and Leila felt so out of sorts she knew only a swim would fix it.

  She held her breath, pushing off the side, tasting the chlorine of the water. At the deep end, exhausted now, she spread her arms out against the side, circling her legs in the water. She half closed her eyes, the droplets of water making the bright morning sun glare. A gecko slithered past her, scuttling into the cracks between the stone slabs.

  She turned and looked down at her legs, seeing how long they suddenly seemed to be. Her shin looked sore still, where she had scuffed it on the tree, although she had dabbed some of Maliba’s famed Ayurvedic ointment on it.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened yesterday. How Adam and Monique had been together. And now, after a night’s fretful sleep, Leila felt the conversation she’d witnessed between Monique and Adam only growing in significance.

  ‘This is so good, but it can’t last forever, you know. Marc will be back soon with the plane,’ Monique had said.

  ‘When?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe the end of next week. But after that, will I see you again?’

  ‘If you come back here occasionally, then I’m sure we’ll meet again.’

  ‘Why? Are you staying here for good?’

  ‘Sadly not. I will stay for a while longer, but I have business to attend to in the US. But I will be back. Lace Island will make me a lot of money one day.’

  Why would he have said that? Leila wondered now. In such a smug way. What was Adam’s business connection on Lace Island? Leila felt sure it had something to do with the lighthouse and Shang. Something to do with those boxes the men were guarding so closely.

  Leila had tried to bring this up when she’d finally found Rasa late last night down by the fishing boats, but he’d been furious that she hadn’t turned up to meet him. He said he’d waited for an hour by the lighthouse and then had been in trouble with his father, Vijay, for failing to help with one of the fishing boats Rasa had promised to mend.

  Leila had explained what had happened. How she’d done her best to intercept him and warn him about what was going on, but how, on her way to the beach, she’d fallen into the trees by the guest bungalows and had seen Adam and Monique.

  ‘You saw them? Actually saw them? They were together? Properly together, I mean?’ Rasa had been horrified.

  Leila had pulled an embarrassed grimace and nodded. ‘It was awful. I was totally stuck. If I’d moved then, they’d have seen me.’

  ‘You should have gone away,’ Rasa had said sharply. ‘You shouldn’t have watched them.’

  ‘I tried not to,’ Leila had said, feeling defensive, but inside she felt hot with shame.

  ‘If he’d seen you—’

  ‘He didn’t.’

  ‘You mustn’t go snooping around. It’s not right.’

  ‘But something is going on,’ she had persisted, telling him about how she’d overheard Adam talking about how he would make money out
of Lace Island. ‘Do you know what they’re doing?’

  Rasa had been unreachable after that, as they’d gone together with the lantern to retrieve her bike and to finally deliver the peppercorns to Maliba. It seemed to Leila that he’d been crosser about her inadvertently spying on Adam and Monique than he had been about Shang being at the lighthouse. When they’d gone with the lantern to the lighthouse, it had all been shut up, the same as Rasa had found it when he’d gone to meet Leila at lunchtime, and Leila wondered if he’d believed her at all about what she’d seen and the man with the gun and the trucks.

  Leila had so wanted to be alone with Rasa, but his bad mood had ruined everything. Perhaps today he’d be easier to talk to.

  In the meantime, maybe she should talk to Bibi. All of this was too much to process by herself. Her mother might be cross with her about leaving school, but she knew that Bibi loved her. And Bibi loved Lace Island too. If people were plotting something here, then Bibi must know about it.

  Leila climbed out of the pool and wrapped herself in a cotton throw, feeling suddenly clear-headed. She would ask Bibi straight out what was going on with the lighthouse and who that cheroot-smoking man Shang was.

  But to Leila’s surprise, just as she’d finished climbing the stairs two at a time, she saw that Chan was coming out of her mother’s room and gently turning the door handle to shut it.

  ‘Leila,’ he said in a hushed whisper, as if he’d been caught out. She wondered why he looked so guilty.

  ‘Is she in there?’ she asked.

  Chan nodded. ‘Yes, but we should leave her to rest.’

  ‘Rest?’ Leila asked. She’d never heard anything so ridiculous. Her mother didn’t rest. Not when it was time to get up.

  ‘Yes. She’s just . . . well, she’s tired. That’s all. Nothing to worry about. Don’t go in there.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Come and help me. The guests will be here later, and the terrace needs a good sweep.’ He grabbed her firmly by the shoulder and led her to the staircase. She looked behind her once at her mother’s closed door. ‘I mean it, Leila. I don’t want your mother to be bothered by anything. And I mean anything at all.’