Sleeping Cruelty

Chapter nineteen

By midnight, the Coca-Baba club was so crowded that there was hardly any space on the dance floor. Customers perched on the veranda railings and hovered around the rickety steps while the local ragga band pounded away at the microphones, which seemed constantly on distort. The loudspeakers added a high-pitched feedback that almost assisted the vocals and backups. The air was dense with cigarette and ganja smoke, and it was as hot and damp as a sauna. Perfumes mixed with body odour as the dancers writhed to the music. Flickering ultraviolet lights added to the surreal atmosphere: teeth became whiter than white, white clothes glowed with a strange phosphorescence, black skin disappeared leaving only eyeballs and teeth glinting from darkened corners as wraps, joints and folded dollar bills were passed.

Justin sat outside on the roof of a parked car. He had another tepid bottle of beer in his hand and had been eager to leave over an hour ago. Clarissa had danced with anyone who’d have her. She was being passed from partner to partner, necking and clinging to each one as though they were long-lost lovers. Justin watched her, bored. Her eyes occasionally darted him a frenetic glare of hatred. She was proving, if not to him then to herself, that she was sexy and sought-after, which indeed she was. Locally, white meat, especially with money, was referred to as a ‘honey pot’. James had become moodier as the evening progressed. He had snorted cocaine, then complained to Justin that it was baby powder or, worse, laced with borax: his nose was dripping and painful.

Justin decided it was time to go home. The tide was in their favour and the water appeared quite calm. Enough, he thought, was enough. His charges were wrecked. He drained his beer, tossed aside the bottle and pushed his way into the heaving mass. Clarissa angrily faced him out: she was not ready to leave. Justin gripped her wrist and dragged her to the steps. ‘Get off me,’ she screeched. ‘I’ve lost my watch!’

‘Shut the fuck up! You want a pack on to us? If you lost your watch, then forget it. Maybe somebody took it in payment for screwing you up the arse in the john.’

She tried to hit him but he ducked. She fell forward and began to vomit.

Justin hauled her away from the onlookers towards the waste-ground at the side of the club. There he found James. He was lying face down, his shirt torn, his pants round his ankles.

Justin hauled him to his feet. ‘Get your pants up, man. We’re out of here.’

‘I was just taking a piss,’ James slurred.

Justin signalled for the boys waiting on the speedboat to help him get the pair on to the deck.

‘Why did you bring us here?’ Clarissa wailed. She continued to snivel about her watch, until she realized her gold necklace was also missing, which brought on a fresh onslaught of tears.

‘Think yourself lucky you’ve not lost a lot more. Stop bleating, and have a good shower when you get in. You’re probably lousy with crabs.’

Clarissa gasped and shuddered. ‘I didn’t let them touch me,’ she moaned. But she had, and had lost count of how many.

Justin ignored her. He had noticed James was white-faced, his lips blue. He still seemed unable to focus. ‘You okay? James?’

James swung his head round. ‘Yeah, man... I’m cool.’

The return trip to the island was a long, slow haul. When they arrived at the island, Justin strode off towards his bungalow. He wanted to shower and get the stench of vomit out of his nostrils. As he passed Max’s room he crept up to the half-open shutter. The lights were on but, although the sheet had been pulled back, the bed was empty. Justin listened, but heard only the sound of crickets, so he moved on. Where could Max be at this hour?

Laura’s suite was in darkness, shutters closed, door locked. He walked on to his own room where the lights were blazing. ‘You’re late,’ said Laura, as he came in, closing the door.

‘I couldn’t get them to leave the club. I got back as soon as I could.’ He began to peel off his clothes. ‘Don’t come near me, I stink.’ He stepped out of his trousers.

‘We have to talk,’ Laura said.

‘Not right now. I need a shower.’ He disappeared into the bathroom.

Laura sat drumming her fingers on the bedside table. She had it all worked out. By the time he had left the bathroom Justin was more relaxed. He flopped down on the bed and Laura stroked his damp hair.

‘Okay. How did it go with Matlock? You made progress?’

‘Yes, he’s all over me like a rash. But I don’t know whether I can go through with it. The man disgusts me. I don’t know that I want to give him the pleasure of fucking me.’

‘Well, there’s no need, is there? I mean, I think I’ve done a pretty good job of getting him into the fishing anyway. He’ll be dying to get out there tomorrow, and I’ll just tell the boat-boys that I’m going to take him out alone.’

For a moment Laura was hurt. She had wanted to be there for the grand finale. Then she realized that perhaps with Justin absent she would have a chance to get her things together for her escape with Max.

Justin saw her look and interpreted it as disappointment. ‘Don’t worry, my princess. I’ll just get him drugged up on the boat then bring him back to the harbour. Keep an eye open for me and we’ll finish him down there. I should be back around twelve thirty.’

She took a deep breath. ‘Now, just listen and don’t interrupt. I’ve had to push things along a few notches. Tomorrow the Baron and Baroness leave, along with Daphne Hangerford and Clarissa.’

‘What?’

‘They might have become a problem, and we don’t care about them anyway.’

There was something about her tone, her confidence, that alerted him. ‘What did you do?’

‘Oh!’ She shrugged. ‘I let them see themselves on the video. They’re packed and ready.’

‘Is Max going with them?’

‘Of course.’

He giggled. ‘So that leaves just...’

‘Matlock, his wife and son,’ Laura said softly.

He caught her hand. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

Laura withdrew her hand. ‘I think William’s coming back.’

‘Well, we know he is. It is his island.’

She faced him angrily. ‘He might be here tomorrow.’

Justin’s face drained of colour.

Clarissa walked slowly with the wretched James. He kept stumbling, and had to lean heavily against her. ‘What on earth have you shovelled up tonight?’ she asked, almost buckling under the weight of his arm around her shoulders.

‘Not enough,’ he muttered.

‘For God’s sake, I can’t prop you up. We’ll have to get one of those golf carts.’ She looked around but didn’t know where they were kept. She wished she’d asked the boat-boys to help them. ‘That bloody Justin just pissed off,’ she said, wondering whether or not to leave James where he was and find someone to help.

‘He’s a shit,’ James mumbled, then started to cry, sinking to his knees. ‘I’m so messed up,’ he sobbed.

Clarissa sighed and caught sight of Max not far ahead of them. ‘Max?’ she called.

Max had been unable to sleep. He’d read and watched a movie before deciding to walk around the island. ‘My God, look at the state of him,’ he said.

James was now lying flat on the pathway.

‘He’s done some drugs, God knows what,’ Clarissa said, as they tried to haul him to his feet. ‘Help me get him to his room, will you?’ Max hooked an arm around him and hauled him upright. The three staggered to James’s room. As they reached the door, Clarissa let go of his arm. ‘I’m going to bed,’ she announced, and walked on.

Max was furious. ‘We can’t just leave him. He could choke or something.’

‘Stick him under the shower, then. I’ve had enough of him.’

Max stripped off James’s clothes and was appalled at the marks all over his body. There were bloody scratches, bites, dark bruises and raw red welts across his back. ‘James, who’s done this to you?’

James lifted his head, his eyes drooping. He tried to say something but he passed out. Somehow Max dragged him into the shower and turned on the cold tap, soaking himself in the process. Then he returned to the bedroom to brew some coffee and fetch some pyjamas. When he returned to the shower James was still unconscious, but his face was deathly pale and the skin round his mouth was turning blue. Max called Dahlia, who said she would send Kurt.

Laura moved off the bed and began to pace up and down. ‘It’s got to be him. Why would she say we mustn’t be told? And who else could it be anyway? Just to make sure, I asked Dahlia if she had heard from him. She acted a bit cagey and said nothing had been confirmed, that he was possibly coming home but she wasn’t sure.’

Justin stood by the shutters. ‘She said that? Are you sure?’

‘Why would I make it up?’ Laura snapped. ‘Now you know why I had to move things so fast. I wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been an emergency, not without you.’

‘Well, well! Speak of the devil,’ he said softly. He walked over to the door and opened it. ‘Dahlia! What on earth are you doing up at this hour?’

‘It’s young James Matlock. He’s unconscious. Kurt is with him. He says we must get a doctor.’

‘Kurt’s a trained nurse,’ Justin said.

‘A nurse is not a doctor,’ said Dahlia, ‘and the boy doesn’t look good. I’ve just come from his room.’

‘Shit!’ Justin dropped his towel and went back into the room to grab a tracksuit. ‘Come in for a minute,’ he called to Dahlia. As he dressed he asked her if William was arriving ahead of schedule. She was evasive, until he snatched her arm. ‘Listen to me, bitch,’ he hissed. ‘You’re here on a massive salary, courtesy of me, so don’t fuck me around. Is he coming or is he not?’

She nodded. ‘He asked me to tell no one, made me swear not to.’

‘Your loyalties are to him now, are they?’

She shifted her weight. ‘I didn’t mean to do anything wrong, Justin.’

He stared at her. ‘I’ll let this one go, but don’t think I won’t remember it. You’d be back in that whorehouse, and your kids along with you, if it weren’t for me. Now, get out of my sight.’

Dahlia slipped out, terrified.

Justin’s face was taut with anger. Then he said, ‘I’d better go and see that dumb piece of shit.’

Laura asked if he would like her with him, but he told her to go to bed, she must be exhausted after having to sort so much out by herself earlier. He spoke with the venomous camp lisp she hated.

As the door closed behind him, she sighed with relief. She was sure he had not detected her lie or, more important, suspected anything about Max, and that he had no idea of her intentions. She took a small suitcase, opened it on her bed, and packed the few garments she felt were absolutely necessary. Her heart beat rapidly. She was excited and her hand trembled as she crossed back and forth to her wardrobe, laying out clothes beside the case. Suddenly she felt dizzy and her head throbbed, but she sucked in her breath and didn’t stop. Her pace quickened and her hand began to brush at her skirt.

James was now in blue pyjamas. His face above the tight, white sheet was pale and his lips still blue, but his breathing was regular.

Max was in the room with Kurt, who had a medical kit-bag.

‘You should leave this to me,’ Kurt said. Max chewed his lip. ‘Go on, son, you’ve done more than enough. I’ll look after him now.’

Max hurried off and, passing Laura’s room, paused: the lights were on. He went up her path and peered into the bedroom between the partly closed shutters. She was undressing, the room lit by candles. Max wanted to call out to her but he couldn’t say a word. He was mesmerized. She was naked now, brushing her hair, her eyes half closed. Suddenly he heard footsteps and ducked down as Justin hurried past. He remained hidden, listening, afraid Justin would discover him.

By the time he straightened up, the candles had been extinguished and Laura’s room was in darkness.

If he had been a moment earlier, he would have seen a different Laura, shaking convulsively as she took out her pills. She managed to swallow them, then took deep breaths to calm herself and picked up her hairbrush. With her eyes closed she whispered, ‘I’m all right, Laura’s all right, Laura’s all right.’

James was now lying face down as Kurt dabbed his cuts with antiseptic.

‘You shouldn’t leave him on his stomach,’ Justin said, as he entered.

Kurt shrugged. ‘These sores need attention.’

Justin lifted James’s eyelid. Only the white of his eye was visible. ‘Shit! He’s really out of it,’ he muttered.

‘He needs a doctor, man, the sooner the better.’

Kurt laid compresses over James’s back and ran a roll of surgical tape across them to hold them firm, then gently turned him over. Then he said they should take the boy straight to hospital.

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Justin snapped.

‘Justin, he’s real sick. Look at him! Christ only knows what he’s taken.’

‘I’ll make the decisions. Now get the hell out.’

As the door closed behind Kurt, Justin propped up James on his pillows and snapped open a bottle of poppers. He broke one and held it under his nose.

James heaved, gave a spluttering cough and his eyes fluttered open.

‘Breathe in, James, there’s a good boy, nice deep breaths. Gonna give you another.’

Max walked in. ‘Should you be doing that?’

Justin whipped round. ‘It’s just to bring him round. We’ve spoken to a doctor and he’s on his way.’

‘Should I fetch his parents?’ asked Max, concerned.

‘No, he’s coming to and I don’t want them to know the state he got himself into. You just piss off back to your room, there’s a good chap. You and your folks are leaving early tomorrow morning.’

Max hesitated. ‘Actually, I’m staying on.’

Justin straightened up. ‘Really? You’re having such a good time, are you?’

‘Yes, I am.’

Suddenly James began to cough, chest heaving. Justin sat him up further, shoving pillows behind him. ‘Good boy, that’s it. Come on. Deep breaths, now.’ Justin turned to Max. ‘Shut the door as you leave.’

Again Max hesitated, then left. Justin split open yet another amyl nitrate capsule and pressed it beneath James’s nose. The boy gasped as his heart-rate soared. His arms flailed and his eyes rolled back. Justin felt his pulse, sat for a while then ran from the room.

James was carried on to the speedboat. Kurt did not say anything as he helped the boys make him comfortable. Justin told Kurt to stay with James while he was in the hospital and to report back.

‘You not coming?’ Kurt asked.

‘No. Tell the boys to return after they’ve dropped you off.’

‘Okay, but don’t you think his parents should be told? Maybe they’ll want to be with him.’

Justin told them to get moving. It was now almost five, and at any moment the house would begin its morning rituals.

Kurt watched Justin as the powerful boat’s engine churned up the water. He’d always known there was some scam going on — that much had been obvious from the amount of money he was being paid and that he’d been hand-picked by Justin. But Kurt was worried that whatever heinous scheme Justin was part of, he was drawing him into it. He decided he’d not risk staying on. Just as soon as he’d sorted James out, he’d go pack his belongings and leave the island. Perhaps Justin intended murdering Sir William.

Her mother had to shake Clarissa awake. She sat bolt upright. ‘What? What is it?’ When she saw her mother, she flopped back. ‘Christ you nearly gave me heart-failure, Mother. What are you doing here?’

‘We’re leaving.’

Clarissa turned to see the time. ‘It’s only five fifteen!’

‘We’re getting the launch to Tortola. There’s a flight out at nine and I want to be on it.’

Clarissa sat up. ‘Well, I don’t, I’m staying.’

‘No, you are not. You are coming with me.’ Daphne started to sob. ‘We’re flat broke. The houses are gone, stables, everything. That bastard spent every cent I had. He’s borrowed from everyone we know and now he’s moved in with that bitch from the stables. I wish to God I’d never set foot in this God-forsaken place. I hate it! It’s like a prison.’ Daphne stood up. ‘Call for someone to help you pack. Don’t forget your passport, and if you have any money we’ll need it, because I’ve only got forty pounds to my name.’

‘I’ve no cash at all.’ Clarissa sat back on the bed. ‘What’s the point of going back?’

‘We have to. To see what we can salvage. Right now we don’t even have a roof over our heads.’

‘I see,’ Clarissa said softly.

‘It would have been nice if you and James had hit it off. The Matlocks have more money than they know what to do with.’

‘I wouldn’t get involved with that poof,’ Clarissa said, searching her make-up bag unsuccessfully for some paracetamol. She had a splitting headache and her body ached all over. She gave her mother a hooded look. Did she really want to go all the way back to London and face her father?

‘I’m not leaving,’ she said firmly.

‘You are,’ her mother said, equally firmly. Then she took a deep breath. ‘If you want your trust fund intact, you’ll not waste a second. I’ve always known your father’s a bastard, but it turns out he’s also an accomplished thief. He took every cent Katherine Benedict possessed, including her kids’ trust funds.’

‘Can he get his hands on my money, Ma?’ asked Clarissa.

Daphne looked hard at her daughter and was shocked at what she saw. It was like looking at a stranger: there was no shy, deferential look in her eyes, no innocence left. Here was not a girl who had blossomed into a woman, but a seedy, slovenly girl, brazenly standing with her dressing-gown undone, unembarrassed by her nakedness.

‘Because if he even tries, I’ll have him fucking arrested,’ Clarissa continued, as she padded into her bathroom and reached for the paracetamol on the shelf above the basin.

‘What has happened to you, Clarissa? I hardly know you any more,’ Daphne said.

‘Well maybe being almost fucked by my own father had some effect.’

Clarissa took two pills and swallowed them in one gulp.

‘You’re lying!’ her mother said. As much as she loathed her husband, she could not believe what she was hearing.

‘I’m not. Ask my father what happened here in the sauna. He groped me. You only want me to go back so you can get your hands on my money. Well, it’s all mine, Ma, and I need it. You won’t get a penny!’

Daphne slapped her daughter’s face so hard that Clarissa fell off the chair with a howl. ‘If you don’t stop acting like some cheap tart and get packed, you might not have any money left.’

Daphne swept out, banging the door behind her. She stopped to catch her breath, and the heady scent of the ubiquitous lilies made her feel sick. How she hated this place!

The Baroness was standing in the hall, her luggage packed and ready to be taken down to the jetty. She looked as immaculate as ever. Her husband, though, seemed nervous and jaded.

Daphne Hangerford was waiting for her cases to be brought down. She didn’t want to return to her suite, or to be alone. ‘Do you mind if I give you some advice?’ she said to the Baroness. ‘Don’t let your son stay on. Make him leave with you. This is a terrible place.’

The Baroness gave her husband a furtive look then turned away. ‘He’s old enough to make his own decisions.’

Daphne shrugged her plump shoulders, and saw Clarissa appear, followed by one of the house-boys with her bags. At this moment, a maid approached the Baron with a fax that had just arrived for him. He opened it and froze. Benedict’s lawyers were taking him to court. His own team had tried to delay the action, but there was now an even more serious charge of insider dealing. It was suggested he return as soon as possible. He was about to lose everything he owned and the news had been leaked to the European press. Any day now it would hit the British papers.

Angela Matlock came down the stairs to say goodbye, puzzled by what appeared to be a mass exodus. She kissed everyone and asked if Max was staying: she wanted company for James.

‘Yes, he is,’ the Baroness said.

‘I was on my way to James’s room,’ Angela went on. ‘His father is just leaving for another fishing trip and wants James to join him.’

Clarissa grinned. ‘I doubt if he’ll make it. It was quite a late night.’

Humphrey Matlock was already aboard the fishing-boat and waved to the departing guests from the deck. He had paid little attention to what his wife had said and thought that they, like him, must be embarking on some day-trip. It was a clear, brilliant day, and although it was only seven in the morning, the sun was already beating down. He had hoped James would join him, but there was no sign of his son.

Justin strolled towards him. ‘Have you seen James?’ Matlock asked.

Justin rolled his eyes. ‘He’s still in his pit. Rather the worse for wear after the disco, I’m afraid,’ he said, jumping aboard. ‘Come on, cast off. I’m crewing for you today. The regulars have demanded a day off. I suspect they’ve got hangovers too.’

Matlock untied a mooring line, disappointed. ‘Wretched boy. Spoiled, pampered idiot. I wash my hands of him.’

Justin signalled to the boat-boy to start the engines. ‘We’re going into deep water this morning and if you get a big catch,’ he laughed, splaying his hands out, ‘I’ll help you reel it in!’

Matlock pointed to the jetty. ‘Looks like a mass exodus. Sightseeing, are they?’

‘Yes, and hitting the tourist shops.’

‘Thank God I’m not roped into that.’

‘Yes. We’ll have much more fun... fishing.’

Angela headed for her son’s room. She paused, gazing down at the jetty as everyone climbed aboard the cruiser. Then she went on her way to James. She pushed open the door to his room. It was in immaculate order. The maids had cleaned it and changed the linen.

‘James?’ she called. This was so unlike her son. His own room at home, even with maids, was in constant turmoil. Angela opened the wardrobe. His clothes were all neatly pressed and on their individual hangers. Even the drawers were tidy. She turned guiltily as Max tapped and peered in from outside. He was a little out of breath as he had run back from the jetty to see his parents off. He had been disappointed to discover he had missed them, and was more than a little confused as to why his mother had not even called in to his suite.

‘Hi,’ he said shyly.

‘Hello, Max. I just dropped in to see James.’

‘Is he feeling better?’

‘Better?’ she said, puzzled.

Max came further into the room and he, too, looked around in surprise. ‘Well, I saw him last night and—’

‘And?’ she said quickly. ‘Had he been drinking?’

‘A bit. He wasn’t feeling too good.’

‘Then where is he?’ she said, now showing her worry.

‘I have no idea, but he came home late. They went clubbing.’

Angela gave a soft laugh. ‘Of course, he’ll be with his father. He was going on a special fishing trip this morning.’

‘Oh, that may be it,’ Max said, but he doubted it. He excused himself and left, checking the time. It was not too long to wait.

He decided he would go for a walk — anything to take his mind off Laura.

Dahlia looked up with surprise as Laura walked into the laundry room. ‘Have you heard how he is?’ she asked.

‘Who?’ Laura asked, as she crossed to where her clothes were drying.

‘They took James Matlock to hospital,’ Dahlia said, watching her intently.

‘Justin didn’t tell me.’

Dahlia continued folding towels. Laura seemed unconcerned by the news and, to Dahlia’s surprise, gathered all her lingerie into a basket.

‘Where is my tissue paper, Dahlia?’

‘I had it ironed. It’s in that drawer.’ She pointed.

Laura placed it carefully on top of her basket. ‘You’re not planning on leaving, are you?’ Dahlia asked.

‘No, I’m not.’ Laura was about to walk out, but then she turned. Her eyes were chilling. ‘When do you expect Sir William?’

Dahlia licked her lips. ‘Perhaps some time today.’

Laura gave an odd, secretive smile. ‘Good.’ And she was gone.

Dahlia found Kurt in the gym, working out alone. ‘You have any news about James Matlock?’

‘They took him into intensive care and said they’d keep Justin informed of his progress. I think he’ll be okay... Didn’t look too good, though.’

‘What drugs had he taken?’ Dahlia asked, placing pristine white towels in the racks.

‘Christ only knows, and in that club they sell shit. They’ve been handing round Ecstasy tabs like they were M&Ms.’

‘His parents haven’t been told,’ Dahlia said, with a hint of disapproval. Her bleeper went off. ‘I’ve got to go. See you later.’

‘You won’t, I’m quitting,’ said Kurt. ‘Be gone by this afternoon.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know exactly what’s going on here but something is, and it’s not smelling good to me. You know Justin’s given all the boys two days off, plus the kitchen staff? I reckon whatever’s going to happen will happen soon.’

Dahlia hurried out. She began to feel the same trepidation as Kurt, but she had kids — she needed her wage packet. Her bleeper went off and she hurried back to the laundry room.

Dahlia closed the laundry-room door, went to the phone and called William. He was at the airport. If he had been there an hour earlier he would have passed his erstwhile guests, but now the airport was virtually empty. ‘I need to be picked up,’ he said. ‘Is everything all right over there?’

Dahlia took a nervous look around. She knew Justin was out, but was worried that Laura might walk in and catch her. William listened as Dahlia listed those who had left. He asked about Humphrey Matlock. ‘Out fishing, sir.’

She hesitated before she told him about James.

William told her he would go straight to the hospital and check on James. ‘Where’s his mother?’ he asked. When William discovered that she had not been told, he bellowed down the phone so loud that Dahlia had to hold the receiver away from her ear. She then told him that half of the staff had been given two days off, including some of the boat-boys and several of the kitchen and domestic staff. ‘On whose orders?’

‘Justin’s,’ she said. Then, after another lengthy pause and feeling even guiltier, she hinted that something odd was going on but she was not quite sure what. ‘I may be wrong, but I think Laura is planning to leave.’

‘Is Justin going too?’ William interrupted. ‘Where is he now?’

‘Oh, I think he’s out with Sir Humphrey on the fishing-boat.’ Dahlia listened as William barked instructions down the line, repeated that she must carry out everything he told her to do, without question.

William slapped off his mobile, and remained standing with the phone for a few moments. Then he did what he should have done earlier: he called the coastguard.