I nodded, expecting her to leave. She didn’t.
“One more thing.”
“What’s that.” I picked up a cloth and wiped down the bar.
“My husband’s son, Marcus Lawrence. He’s involved with something he thinks I don’t know about, but I think you do. I know who your family is.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know him.”
She tipped her head to one side and examined me with her eyes. “Let’s say you did. Let’s say you’re more than just the bartender you pretend to be.”
“Let’s say I am.”
“I need to keep my daughters safe. Marcus did something to hurt Jameson once before. If he does it again, I’ll make sure that his grave is deep enough so that the devil can’t dig him out of it.”
“I’m not sure who you think I am, but I’ll make sure your daughters are safe.”
“And if Marcus is involved with anything that can hurt them?”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Good. Thank you.” She slipped off the stool. “It’s a small island, Tommy. Worth remembering that.”
Maybe the shadows where I’d lingered hadn’t been dark enough.
I sawLivi a couple of hours later, holding court in Santa Gertrudis. She was sitting outside one of the restaurants, a white parasol shading her from the sun that seemed to beam on her like a spotlight. There were people with her that I knew, a couple of guys who owned property on the island and one of the hotels, a woman I knew was an actress and came here most summers, getting away from the media glare, and a man I suspected was part of her security.
Women like Livi didn’t not have security. It was just discreet. They blended, just like he was doing now.
I watched from across the square, noticing how she drove the conversation, eyes going to her even when someone else was speaking, waiting for her opinion or say so. Heading over there wasn’t something I should probably have done, but I did it anyway, leavingCòctelsin the care of my staff.
“Tommy!” Livi waved over at me when I walked towards her table, acting as if we were old friends.
I suspected she greeted everyone that way, everyone who fell into her orbit.
“This is Tommy, who’s just started up the best cocktail bar. My daughters are there all the time – or so their credit card statements tell me.” She looked around her audience. “Sit with us; have a break.”
She introduced me to her crowd as I took a seat, recognising one of the property owners as someone who’d been involved in a couple of deals with my uncle.
“IsCòctelsyour first venture?” he asked, his eyes studying me.
I nodded. “First. Hopefully not the last. It’s going well so far.”
“Most businesses that fail do so within their first twelve months. Hopefully yours won’t be one of them.” His smile was what I’d imagine a shark’s to be like. Full of teeth.
Livi laughed. “Oh, give over, Graeme. Tommy’s bar’s packed every night and I can see why. Tell me, I hear you’ve bought a new property in Es Cubells. Lala mentioned it to me but she couldn’t tell me where exactly it was.”
I half watched, ordering a coffee, offering few words, but listening to the conversations that went on. Gossip, both personal and business, plans for the summer and lots of asking about Livi.
“Do you think this is your main home now?” One of her friends asked, sounding slightly slurry. “We never see you in London.”
“This is definitely her home. Ibiza loves Livi.” It was a man who spoke, one I knew I should recognise as I’d seen him in the clubs.
“And Livi loves Ibiza.” She smiled, avoiding the question, but then her attention was snatched away as she stood up.
There was a brief, fleeting, flicker of shock, quickly masked by an expression that looked almost rapturous. I’d seen it before, seen it in clubs, in bars, in my own home when my aunt saw my uncle and knew it for the lies it held.
“Lawrie! I wasn’t expecting you! What a wonderful surprise.” She leaned across to him, presenting her cheek for a kiss.
