Chapter 43
‘Wake up, bro, the sun is up, the air-conditioning is broken, and we need to get out into the community.’
It was the next morning and Horatio had jumped on the bottom of the very short single bed Akis was squeezed into, making the mattress bump up and down. It was so hot in this tiny apartment Horatio had secured on pretty much charm alone and the unreliable climate control hadn’t done anything to stop the mosquitos buzzing around his head the whole night.
‘What time is it?’ Akis asked, freeing his arm from under the pillow and trying to look at his watch.
‘Time to find breakfast. Get up!’ Horatio said, bouncing some more. ‘Then we can find a pool and relax.’
Horatio was still treating this trip as some kind of holiday, not as the support mission he had meant it to be.
‘I can’t do that,’ Akis said. ‘Cara has the event tonight. She needs to rehearse.’
‘Rehearse what?’ Horatio asked, jumping right off the bed. ‘Margot says she will never sing in public again.’
‘What?’ Akis said, pulling himself into a sitting position and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Horatio shrugged. ‘That is what she said, last night. And then she said in that smart voice of hers, “The only decisions Cara makes are ones I tell her to.”’
Akis was out of bed now. ‘Are you playing, Horatio? She actually said that?’
‘Yeah,’ Horatio said with a sigh. ‘I mean, kind of powerful, right?’
Akis didn’t think it was powerful. He thought it was narcissistic and cruel. He started to get dressed, not caring what he grabbed, needing to get out of this space and this ugly conversation.
‘Are we going to breakfast?’ Horatio asked.
‘I do not mind what you do. I am going to find Cara,’ Akis said, striding towards the door.
‘There are photos online,’ Margot said as she and Cara sat eating breakfast on the terrace. ‘Of Raj in Fira last night. We should have booked a taxi over there.’
‘Well,’ Cara said, stirring her coffee. ‘It doesn’t matter where he was last night, he’s going to be on board that boat tonight, right?’
‘Yes,’ Margot said, sighing. ‘Yes, I suppose so. It’s just…’
‘What?’ Cara asked. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘I don’t know.’ Margot put a hand to one of the wounds that was healing on her chest. ‘I feel that, somehow, maybe… I’m beginning to lose my edge.’
‘Oh, Margot, no. Why do you think that? I mean, apart from this probably minor issue with the Maxi-Go, the business is doing great. You have so many celebrity endorsements and you’re on the very cusp of breaking into America and?—’
‘And all those things are about Carried Away, not about me.’
Cara studied her aunt for a second, saw real despondency in her eyes. This was new. ‘But you’ve always said that you and the business are shackled to each other like Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele, that there isn’t one without the other.’
‘And that is true,’ Margot agreed. ‘But what happens if everything with the business suddenly blows up like the fucking suitcase? What am I left with then? A warehouse full of wheelie bags, a few party invites and my niece who thinks a chihuahua might savage her at any given moment.’
Cara froze. The barbed comment had landed and spiked. She got up from the table and made for the stepping stones.
‘Cara, stop, wait. I didn’t mean that. Cara!’ Margot pleaded.
There was no way she was stopping.