TALIA
The sound, at least, might force her back into the present moment; she’d spent the entire day – into the early evening, now – scanning her companions. Who had left her that note last night, and what the hell did they mean by it?
Get away from him before it’s too late.
She’d played the words over and over and deduced it could only be from one of Rory’s colleagues; and that whoever had written it was referring to her husband.
She’d since spent all day wondering what Rory could have possibly done to offend them; what it was about him they objected to?
Why did they think they needed to warn her off?
But none of that was a crime. She’d been with him long enough to know the difference between ego and actual malice, hadn’t she?
And she’d always observed him to be a fair, decent boss.
More than that: he fought for his employees.
He encouraged women to speak up for salary increases and promotions and to tell him if they’d been subjected to discrimination in an industry that remained male dominated, especially at senior levels.
He encouraged Talia too, and their daughters.
She still remembered the day he’d lost the plot at their eldest daughter Nina’s primary school.
He’d seen a story in the weekly parents’ newsletter about investing in facilities for a computing club.
The article had the title ‘Exciting news for our boys!’
‘How dare they insinuate that girls aren’t going to be interested in a computing club?
We’re paying for one of the top prep schools in London, and they send us this rubbish!
’ She’d tried to calm him, suggested it was just a typo, but there was no talking him out of the blasting he gave the head teacher.
That was who Rory was. So what could he have done to merit this?
How ungrateful they all are. Rory wanted to make this experience exceptional for his winners, to reward them for their hard work.
He’d been so excited, showing her the photos of the superyacht before Christmas.
And now here they were – one of them, anyway – trying to cause trouble between Rory and his wife.
As if there isn’t enough trouble already.
Since the morning, Talia noticed, Lucy had barely looked Rory in the eye.
And just now, she’d caught Sam glaring at him across the table.
The tension between the two men was palpable.
Only Eleni seemed warm and friendly towards both her and Rory at all times – rather ingratiatingly so, if Talia were being honest.
Perhaps she should ask Rory about the note – see if he could think of anything he’d said or done to upset anyone.
But she could picture his reaction: amusement verging on annoyance, telling her she was fretting over nothing again.
And of course, drawing attention to the note might lead to more questions – more spotlight on her – and that was the last thing she needed.
‘It’s starting,’ said Rory, gulping down the remnants of his fried dough fritters – firi firi – and jumping to his feet.
‘Come on, Talia, get your lazy bottom off that chair – we don’t want to miss this.
’ She stood, trying not to roll her eyes, and, in the seat next to her, caught Sam looking at her.
A flash of something – recognition? a shared frustration?
– passed between them briefly, and then was gone.
‘We should all go and watch, shouldn’t we?’ said Mark, standing up. With Rory and Talia taking the lead, the group walked from the terrace down onto the sand.
The drum beat steadily – tah-tum; tah-tum – its rhythm vibrating to Talia’s core.
They waited a moment, then a young woman with long black hair, wearing a blood red dress, took her spot on the beach in front of her audience.
A garland of white flowers was placed on her head.
Behind her, four more women emerged from the shadows; then the same number of men, each wearing armbands made from coconut shells and wide, woven belts.
They danced together, slowly at first, their hips and shoulders rolling, their hands carving shapes in the air.
Talia’s breath caught in her throat. It was stunning, yes, but more than that – her body was responding; she was turned on.
A hot pulse of desire rose from her hips, her pelvis.
She resisted the urge to reach for her phone to send a text: to put down in words what she was seeing and feeling.
Mercifully, the urge passed and she brought her attention back to the mesmerizing display in front of her.
A man stepped into the centre of the dancers’ circle and raised a long staff, wrapped in cloth, its tip and base glistening with oil in the moonlight.
Another man lit it with a torch, and the rod burst into orange flame, spitting tiny sparks in a halo of vibrant colour.
Talia gasped, and Rory squeezed her shoulder; she cast a quick glance at him – he was beaming in boyish delight.
From a little to her right, Eleni erupted: ‘Oh my God – wow!’
The rest of the dancers came closer to him, holding shorter torches, bending their bodies gracefully in his direction to light their own, smaller flames.
Then, the man with the largest staff began to spin it – first in slow arcs, then more quickly until it became a blur, a wheel of fire orbiting his body.
The others swung their smaller flames in circles, weaving spirals around their bodies, some of them resembling flowers, or geometric symbols.
Talia couldn’t look away. The combination of the drumming and the hypnotic shapes created by the light from the fire had her enchanted.
Gradually the dancers slowed and the beats began to soften. One by one, they extinguished their torches in the sand with a hiss and a plume of smoke.
The small crowd stood in stunned silence for a breath, before Rory erupted into applause and shouts of praise; everyone joined in.
In unison, the dancers gave a low bow. Then they melted into the shadows, leaving behind thinning plumes of smoke and the smell of burning oil – and Talia with a deep, sensual heat between her thighs.
After Noah sailed them back to the Lusso in the tender, Talia walked to the railings at the front of the boat, leaned back and craned her neck towards the sky.
Her fingers itched to unlock her phone, to reread the messages that sent a thrill of desire through her body.
Don’t even think about it. There were too many people around – too many eyes on her.
Everyone was bound to notice – if they hadn’t already – that she was clutching her phone at all times, gripping it like a raft in a storm. No; she couldn’t risk it.
Johanna stirred her from her thoughts, announcing the arrival of their cocktails.
Talia picked hers up from the silver tray and took a long sip, then turned back to admire the sea and Tiahura beach beyond, enjoying the dip in temperature and the chill music mix playing from the speakers in the centre of the deck.
She stared up at the sky: the night had created a clear, cloudless black canopy dotted with infinite stars.
Talia gasped as a shooting star burst across the sky directly above her, the longest and brightest she’d ever seen.
Perhaps it’s a good omen. It’s telling me everything is going to be okay.
Or a bad one: it’s warning me. It’s all going to go wrong …
‘Are you all right, Talia?’ asked Lucy, eyeing her curiously from her seat on the sofa, a few feet away.
Talia hadn’t meant to gasp so loudly. How embarrassing. She gave an awkward laugh. ‘Yes – just … this sky. It’s quite something. I just saw a shooting star.’
Lucy looked up at the stars for a second, gave Talia a quick smile, then turned back to her conversation with Nick, Sam and Eleni.
Nick was entertaining them all with some funny stories about his young boys, by the sounds of it, though Lucy didn’t look particularly amused.
Elsewhere, Mark and Rory stood nursing their drinks at the bar.
The two men seemed deep in conversation; Talia wondered what they could possibly have to chat about.
Mark was a journalist, wasn’t he? Rory usually had no time for the lot of them.
All useless hacks. She decided to join the group on the sofa, but just as she sat down, Lucy stretched and stood up.
‘I think I’m going to head to bed,’ Lucy said, yawning. ‘The sun today has tired me out.’
‘Oh, was it a bit too hot for you?’ said Eleni. There was a patronizing tilt to her head as she spoke, Talia noticed with distaste.
‘I suppose so,’ said Lucy. ‘I’m just not used to it.’
‘Well,’ Eleni said lazily, turning to Nick, ‘I think we should stay up for a while. You could have a proper chat with Rory – I’m sure he’d love that.’
Lucy nodded her goodbyes, then made her way towards the doors to the salon. Talia settled into the sofa and listened as Nick carried on his story, his wife giggling next to him.
‘I don’t know how she did it,’ he continued, tears of laughter gathering in his eyes. ‘How Eleni kept a straight face as the head teacher told her what a serious health and safety hazard it was for Lucas to lock the teaching assistant out of the classroom …’
But his voice was abruptly drowned out by the sound of raised voices from the bar.
Talia looked over, alarmed, to see Mark squaring up to Rory, and Rory backing away – Mark was slurring as he spoke.
He was trying to keep his voice low, but she made out the words: ‘Whatever’s going on, I’m going to find out about it. ’
Talia froze. What the hell is he talking about?
Rory was blinking, his head shaking back and forth. He looked bewildered. ‘I have no idea what you mean,’ she heard him say.
Talia needed to do something; she should intervene. She got to her feet and marched over to the two men. ‘What on earth is going on over here?’ she demanded.
Now only inches apart – Mark had moved closer again – Rory’s eyes didn’t move from Mark’s face as he said, ‘Nothing to worry about, Talia, darling. Mark here’s just had a few too many, that’s all.
Can’t handle his drink – typical journo, biting off more than he can chew. Isn’t that right, Mark, eh?’
Mark stumbled backwards; his eyes were slits, his lips curled into a snarl. He shook his head. ‘No … no, that’s not what—’
What in God’s name …? This didn’t look like someone who’d just taken a bit of drunken banter too far. Mark was raging.
‘Mark, what the hell has got into you?’ It was Lucy; she must have heard the commotion and come back to the deck. She laid a hand on her partner’s shoulder, ushering him backwards and away from Rory. ‘I think we all need to call it a night, yeah?’
‘Ah, come on, Luce,’ slurred Mark, reaching a hand over to pat her on the shoulder and missing; waving at thin air. ‘It’s still early. One more for the road, yeah? We’ve all got a lot to talk about—’
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘It’s time for bed. Let’s go.’
Mark’s eyes roamed the rest of the group. ‘Who’s staying for a nightcap with me? Anyone? Sam? Eleni, Nick – you’ll have another with me, won’t you?’ He could barely focus on anyone’s face as he spoke.
‘I would, but … I think I’ve had enough to drink,’ said Sam.
‘We could stay for a while longer, couldn’t we?’ Eleni addressed her husband. ‘Rory, Talia – you’ll stay too – we could have one last drink, all together?’
Talia flinched. Why is she so keen to get the four of us in close proximity?
‘I dunno,’ said Nick, with a shrug. ‘Let’s head to bed too. I’ll finish my drink on the sun deck and come down. Seems like … everyone could do with a bit of space?’
Perhaps I should get out of here too. Maybe Mark and Rory need to clear the air – alone.
But then Mark turned back to the bar and dumped his glass down on the counter. ‘All right, all right. Bunch of party poopers. Fine, then, I’ll go,’ he said, allowing Lucy to guide him away inside.
When everyone else had gone, Talia turned to her husband. Rory was leaning against the bar, tight-lipped. ‘What on earth was that about?’
He shook his head. ‘Talia, I honestly have no idea.’ He shrugged.
‘I mean it – I can’t imagine why he’d turn on me like that.
And I didn’t get it out of him – he just kept saying, I know what you’re doing, and that it was all going to come out.
But … I mean, what? What have I done? I barely know the man. ’
Talia turned cold. She stared at Rory for a long moment; she knew when he was telling the truth, and he was telling the truth now. Whatever Mark’s issue was, Rory was none the wiser.
She sighed. ‘Well, there’s no use trying to resolve it tonight. Let’s go to bed, and try to make sense of it with clear heads in the morning.’
‘You go,’ said Rory. ‘Get a good night’s sleep. I think I’ll stay out here for a while, enjoy the fresh air. I want to try to clear my thoughts.’
Talia nodded, gave him a brief kiss on the lips, then backed away and headed inside the salon. Despite the warmth of the evening, she shivered – the furious expression on Mark’s face still haunting her.
Did he leave me that note? Did Mark have some kind of grudge against Rory?
But no, surely not – the two men scarcely knew each other.
They could only have met once before this trip – on that one fateful night she wished she could erase from her life altogether. This couldn’t be about that, could it?
No; impossible. Then perhaps Mark’s anger was to do with Lucy.
That was the only way it could make sense.
But why? Rory had no problems with her; he’d have mentioned it if he did, and he certainly wouldn’t have invited her here.
His personal preferences always influenced the winners of bonus holidays, much as he claimed to be an ‘entirely impartial judge’.
Talia sighed; she wasn’t getting anywhere with this. Best just to sleep on it. She’d try to talk to Mark once he’d sobered up – alone, just the two of them. And Lucy too, if she could manage it.
As she approached the spiral staircase leading below deck, she paused, waiting. No one appeared; there was only silence pierced by the hum of the air-conditioning, the gentle purr from the engine room, and the sound of Talia’s own heartbeat pulsing in her ears.
‘Hello?’ she whispered. ‘Is anyone there?’
There was no reply, but … was that someone’s soft footsteps behind her? Was that the rhythm of someone else’s breath in time with hers?
Talia froze. She stayed unmoving at the top of the stairs – and waited.