A Little Birdy Told Me
There were so many questions. But they had to wait.
They had to get back to the ship. Because the thing about the questions is, the more answers you get, the more the questions multiply.
And standing in the middle of a souk in Tangier when their cruise ship was soon to set sail probably wasn’t the best time to start asking them.
Much better to wait until they were safely back on board and sitting across from each other on two velvet sofas in Birdy’s palatial Galaxy suite. Only, the person firing the first question wasn’t Maggie, it was Birdy.
‘What took you so long?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘You told me you were following the cruise ship when we were in Sicily, but when you didn’t show up at the club in Ibiza, I got a little worried I wasn’t going to see you again.’
Taking off her golf-ball-size diamond earrings, Birdy tossed them into an open jewellery box on the side table next to her, which appeared to be brimming with dazzling bracelets and necklaces.
‘And this little plan of mine would all be for nothing.’
‘What plan?’ demanded a voice and Flick suddenly appeared striding into the room. ‘I came as soon as I got your note.’
‘What note?’ Maggie was even more confused.
‘I had Philip, my butler, send a note asking Flick to come to my suite,’ explained Birdy. ‘You mentioned your room number when we were in the elevator.’
‘You have a butler?’ Maggie looked to Birdy in amazement.
‘The service comes with the suite and it’s such a luxury.
Philip caters to my every need. If he’s not restocking the bar, booking spa treatments or making dinner reservations, he’s discreetly sending notes—’ She broke off, smiling, as a dark-haired man in a uniform made his entrance carrying an arrangement of fresh flowers.
‘Oh, howdy, Philip, I was just telling my friends how totally wonderful you are.’
‘All part of the service, ma’am,’ he nodded politely, pausing to plump a cushion.
‘Everyone should have a Philip; he thinks of everything – it’s like having a wife,’ she confided as Maggie and Flick both tried not to stare.
‘It was getting late and I was worried,’ continued Flick.
‘We just got back. Sorry, I would’ve texted earlier but I don’t have a phone.’
‘It’s OK, mine would have been turned off anyway. I was in the spa having a massage after two hours’ playing crazy golf. Who knew I’d be such a convert to cruising.’ Flick pulled a face. ‘So c’mon, what did I miss?’
‘I saw Theo in one of the souks . . .’
‘Oh my God! Did he see you?’
‘Yes, but then he scarpered and I lost him and bumped into Birdy in the medina—’
‘Is it true? Are you dating my dad?’
‘Your dad?’
For the first time Birdy’s composure appeared ruffled.
‘It’s a long story,’ placated Maggie.
‘And an interesting twist,’ reflected Birdy, kicking off her heels and studying them both thoughtfully.
‘Look, will someone tell me what’s going on?’ Flick was fast losing patience.
‘My question exactly,’ agreed Maggie.
‘OK, ladies –’ Birdy fixed them both with a steely gaze born from years of coming up against powerful men and never losing her nerve – ‘let me rewind.’
Taking a moment to smooth down her skirt and make herself comfortable – by draping herself across the sofa like a reclining nude in a Renaissance painting, only one clad in Chanel – she began speaking slowly and carefully.
‘I first met him on the Amalfi Coast. He sat next to me on a boat as we travelled back to the same cruise ship. He introduced himself as Louis, but I knew instinctively that wasn’t his real name.
Most likely he called himself after my Louis Vuitton handbag that he noticed I was carrying.
Of course, I noticed him noticing. It’s all in the details and I’m all about attention to detail. ’
Unclipping her hair piece, she placed it on the armrest, where it sat like a small fluffy blonde guinea pig.
‘He was very flirtatious, but I knew his game. He wasn’t interested in me; he was interested in my money.
He told me some sob story about being a widower and asked me to dinner, but I told him I was busy washing my hair.
Then, a couple of days later in Sicily, I bumped into you again, Maggie, at the cooking class, and you told me your story; about the man who stole your life savings along with your heart.
That’s when we discovered I was on the same cruise as him. ’
Birdy paused for effect. She appeared to be relishing her story.
Afterwards I put two and two together and realized this was very likely to be the same con man.
I don’t believe in coincidences, so it was quite obvious really.
Con man, romance fraudster, call them what you like, they’re quite easy to spot .
. . when you know what you’re looking for,’ she added pointedly.
Glancing at Maggie, she gave her a supportive smile.
‘So many people haven’t a clue about their tactics – why should they?
Most people are trusting, naive . . . gullible, perhaps.
’ She dabbed at the lipstick at the corners of her mouth with a perfectly manicured finger, then removed the rocks on her fingers and tossed them in the jewellery box as well. ‘But Birdy Carmichael is not.’
There was a pause as the ship suddenly listed sharply to one side, then dropped back again. There’d been reports of a bad weather front coming in as they’d left the port to set sail for Lisbon, and outside the skies had darkened.
‘It was quite apparent to me that he was on a cruise in order to go big game hunting. And while I say it myself, as a rich older woman, I am a trophy worth having.’ She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.
‘Mr Louis, or shall we call him by his real name, Mr Theo C. Stratin, spotted me immediately, and without any need for binoculars.’
Breaking off, she gave a throaty laugh.
‘So I let him think he was stalking me, when in fact, I was the one doing the stalking. I was hoping you’d show up at some point, but I couldn’t be sure.
When I bumped into you in Ibiza, I was delighted.
My private table at the club seemed the perfect opportunity for you to nail the bastard.
I thought it would be a nice surprise for you.
It was kind of a shame when you didn’t show. I had to buy him a Rolex.’
Unfastening her own watch, she added it to the jewellery box which was now overflowing.
‘So you can imagine what a pleasant surprise it was to finally see you in the souk—’ She broke off, distracted by Philip the Butler.
‘I’ve been informed that we’re heading into some crosswinds and the sailing is going to get a little choppy. Is there anything I can get for you?’
‘Would you be a doll and look after these ladies while I put the diamonds in the safe?’ Flashing him a smile, she scooped up her jewellery box and stood up from the sofa. ‘And then would you be so kind to make us a round of negronis? All this talking has made me thirsty. What do you say, ladies?’
The ladies didn’t say anything. In fact, Flick and Maggie sat open-mouthed, trying to take it all in. This whole time they’d been thinking Birdy needed saving, when in fact, not only was she was quite capable of saving herself, she was orchestrating a sting.
‘And don’t go easy with the liquor, make those cocktails strong,’ she instructed, as Philip began carefully measuring alcohol into the cocktail shaker. ‘We all like a stiff one, don’t we?’
Seriously. Why were they ever in any doubt that Birdy could take care of herself?
A few minutes later, she reappeared and resumed her place on the sofa.
‘Of course the question now is, have we let him get away?’ Birdy sighed, as if such minor details were a nuisance.
They each looked at other. Flick was actually starting to feel scared of the way the ship was rolling, and also a little seasick, but she didn’t want to lose face.
‘Well, he definitely saw me,’ said Maggie, ‘that’s when he legged it.’
‘Why would he run away from you when he texted you, wanting to meet you in Mallorca?’ asked Flick.
‘Who knows,’ shrugged Maggie. ‘I’ve given up trying to explain his behaviour. He’s a fantasist—’
‘And a narcissist. I should know, I was married to a few,’ interjected Birdy helpfully. ‘This type has no boundaries.’
‘Plus, a lot’s happened since Mallorca.’ Maggie gestured towards Birdy. ‘Maybe he was worried I was going to blow his cover in front of Birdy.’
‘Have you checked his cabin?’
Birdy shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t know which one it was. I don’t do cabins, sweetie. Only suites.’
‘And the crew wouldn’t give out that information,’ interjected Flick, answering her own question. She was now in full investigative reporter mode.
‘Can’t we tell if he’s got back on the ship with the app?’ asked Maggie.
‘Only if you’re part of the same booking or have accepted a friend request,’ explained Flick. After spending the day with the press officer, she was now an expert in cruising and quite the fan.
The ship suddenly lifted, then dropped, as if they were on a big dipper and she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. Well, she was a fan until now.
‘That sounds like a terrible idea. I don’t like anyone knowing where I am or what I’m up to,’ said Birdy, ‘as my ex-husbands will testify.’
‘That’s why I don’t have a Boots Advantage card,’ agreed Maggie.
‘It’s hardly the same, knowing what shampoo and conditioner you use,’ Flick snapped, then sighed in frustration. ‘Sorry, I’m just . . .’
‘I know, I know.’ Maggie leaned across and gave her shoulder a squeeze.
‘We were so close. If he jumped ship in Morocco, we’ll never see him again . . .’ Flick trailed off, her voice despondent, as Philip handed around three perfectly executed negronis. She took one gratefully.
‘And if he hasn’t?’ asked Maggie, taking a sip. Crikey, that was strong.
‘We’re going to need a fucking good plan,’ said Birdy, and knocked her drink straight back in one.