‘Where are you from? Such an exotic mix.’ He leered, taking another gulp of the drink in his hand.
‘I’m from Brixton.’ Ruby’s voice was tight, strained, but she hoped that he couldn’t hear the fear in it. Men like him enjoyed that sort of thing, and she was loath to give him the satisfaction.
He laughed then, a wheezy sort of laugh, hollow and mocking. ‘No, you know what I mean, where are you reallyfrom?’
Ruby restrained herself from gobbing off. Usually she’d have told him to fuck off, but there was something about the mass of him, the smirk on his face, that warned her he was dangerous. He was restraining himself. She could feel it, like a cat playing with its food before devouring it.
‘My mother is from Jamaica,’ Ruby said quietly, wishing her dress wasn’t so short, as his eyes crawled over her skin.
‘An island girl, my favourite.’ His meaty fingers found their way to her knee and Ruby closed her eyes as they crept up her thigh. She couldn’t bear to see his face.
And then, the sound of approaching footsteps, and Ruby’s eyes flew open just in time to see Johan marching towards them. He must have seen the panic in her eyes because he broke into a light jog. Neil’s monstrous hands retreated and he stepped back, clearing his throat as he turned to face Johan with a smile hastily plastered onto his flushed face.
Johan ignored him and pulled Ruby to his side protectively. ‘Everything all right?’ His eyes were full of genuine concern. Ruby wanted to feel grateful, but instead she felt angry. Why had it taken another man claiming her as his to save her from this brute?
‘I’m fine.’ She shot a look at Neil, who now wouldn’t meet her gaze. She felt utter revulsion. ‘Neil here was just leaving.’
Neill was fiddling with his trousers, no doubt rearranging the evidence of his predatory predilections. ‘Um yes, we were just having a little chat, but now that I think of it, I must try and find Martin.’ He turned to leave and then paused.
‘Don’t I know you from somewhere?’ This time the comment was aimed at Johan, who quickly looked away.
‘I don’t think so, mate.’
‘You’re the Anker boy, are you not?’ Neil was insistent.
Johan looked flustered. He grabbed Ruby by the elbow and led her away. Once they were at a safe distance, Ruby wrenched her arm from his grip. She was tired of being manhandled.
‘Sorry.’ Johan sounded apologetic, as she rubbed at her elbow pointedly. But he also seemed distracted, throwing worried glances back in the direction of the letch.
‘What was that back there? What the fuck is an Anchor boy?’
‘Don’t worry about it; I just want to make sure you’re OK?’Johan tucked a loose curl behind her ear. Ruby understood that this was supposed to be a tender moment, that he probably felt noble for having saved her. She resented that her endangerment just felt like an opportunity for him to show off his chivalry. She recoiled from his touch. ‘What is your problem, Ruby?’
‘Nothing, I just, want to get drunk and forget about it.’ She tried to smile, and although she was sure it was unconvincing, he didn’t press her.
‘Another glass of champagne for the lady?’
‘Sure, why not.’ They walked outside, to the bar that had been erected at the far side of the patio. Johan seemed to implicitly understand that she had no desire to retrace her steps down that narrow corridor. By the pool, now glowing in the late evening summer light, she spotted Noah, Adam and Heather. Without waiting for Johan, she jogged over to them, relieved suddenly to be in their company.
Chapter 32
Opal couldn’t take her eyes off them through the glass. She was standing outside on the patio that connected the orangery to the pool, and stuck in the kind of conversation that bored her senseless. The woman’s name was Sharon. She was wearing a particularly horrible shade of lemon yellow skirt suit and speculating on whether another woman called Nancy might be elected as the tennis club committee’s chair this year.
‘It’s not an issue of enthusiasm, that’s for sure. She’s just not …’ Sharon looked over each padded shoulder animatedly as she recounted her petty gossip. ‘She’s not … a people person.’ Sharon took a swig from her glass and Opal realised that she was waiting for a response.
Opal was too distracted to engage properly. ‘I know what you mean.’
That was enough for Sharon, who took the tepid agreement as licence to tell Opal how she really felt.
‘It’s a harsh truth but some people just aren’t likeable. They just can’t get on with others. In a way it’s not even her fault,’ Sharon intoned. It was the sort of mindless mitigation that irritated Opal the most. Why could women like Sharon noteven commit to their own bitchy opinions?So what if you don’t like this woman called Nancy?
Opal had had enough. How could she stand here while Martin was right there in her eyeline, seemingly absentmindedly holding Agnes’s slim elbow in his hand as he spoke to a colleague. It was the casual familiarity of that touch that made her blood run cold. That, and the total lack of discretion in front of a room full of guests.
‘I’m terribly sorry, Sharon, I simply must go and check on the Chardonnay stock. Hetty was worried we hadn’t ordered enough bottles.’
‘Oh of course, you must go immediately; God forbid we run out of Chardonnay!’
For a second Opal was stunned. Was this Sharon exhibiting some edge? A bit of scathing sarcasm? On noting Sharon’s impassive expression, though, Opal reassessed. It seemed she was being sincere.
