‘I’ll go with you.’
They turned for the X5, parked on the side of the road. ‘I’ll be OK—’
He glared as if she were a giant pain in his rear as he slammed the door and turned the key. ‘Like you said, it’s a dive.’
In the half hour that Honor had between jumping out of the X5 and climbing back into it, she showered at top speed and wriggled into the only vaguely clubby clothes she had in England, exactly what she’d been wearing when Aaron had taken her to Ali Spangles — the short, stretchy, black dress shot with gold and the rainbow shrug that tied high in front. So as not to feel any tinier beside Martyn than she needed to, she slid quickly into black, spike-heeled mules.
Her hair would take too long to put up, so, with wet hands and a little conditioner she smoothed out the worst of the frizz and then combed it down either side of her face, letting it ripple on to her shoulders. It looked like somebody had been at it with a crimping iron but, hey, people paid good money for that look and she could have it for free. And it left her time to apply blue-green eyeliner and black mascara.
Both the mules and the short skirt made the ascent into the BMW sports vehicle a challenge but she scrambled up and soon the vehicle was bowling smoothly along Marine Drive, past Saltdean and then Rottingdean, the lights from the pier and the Brighton hotels looming closer and closer, twinkling as the sun prepared to dip into the sea.
On this summer’s evening every parking space along King’s Road was taken, but Martyn found a spot to ease the BMW into in a side street. Honor discovered that, worse than scrambling up, dropping down from the perched-up passenger seat of the big vehicle in a short skirt and high heels was damned near impossible without flaunting her underwear or letting her footwear drop from her toes. Watching her struggle, Martyn swore, seized her by the waist and swung her down, as if dragging a naughty child out of a tree.
‘Sorry,’ she said, meekly. ‘I didn’t think about climbing in and out of your SUV.’
Martyn had changed into a midnight blue shirt and he looked exactly what he was — a pin-up. His hair flipped sexily around his collar while hers wiggled around her head like the Gorgon’s snakes.
King’s Road was thronged, unsurprising in a resort at the height of the summer. Martyn grabbed her hand and tucked her behind him, which had the double benefit of advancing their progress and providing relief from the wind. When they reached the well-worn exterior of Ali Spangles he stopped short, bringing her around beside him. ‘Ah. That explains how he can get in.’
Outside Ali Spangles, on a blackboard decorated with silver stars, they read:Under 18s Nite at Ali Spangles! Wickid DJ! Only £5!
‘Oh . . .’ Honor deflated. ‘I never even thought of that. I guess he’s just hanging out with his friends. I just jumped to stupid conclusions. I’m sorry I dragged you out here.’
Martyn studied the three doormen, standing in a row like thuggish penguins. ‘Yes, but it is Ali Spangles. As we’re here, maybe we should look around.’
They gazed up the stairs and into the entrance passage. Every scuff on the badly painted walls showed. Teenagers straggled in trying to look cool and mainly looking furtive as electronic music pounded and scratched out into the street.
Martyn approached the biggest doorman, a bald guy with two crosses in one ear. ‘Is it under 18s only? Or can we get in?’
The doorman raised his eyebrows, looking from Martyn to Honor and shrugging. ‘OK with us, mate. You pay your five quid, you go in. Long as you behave yourself.’ He smirked. ‘They might ID you if you try and buy alcohol.’
Martyn gave him a tiny smile and brushed past, paid ten pounds to a different penguin at a window and drew Honor upthe narrow stairs and down the corridor that let out into the bowels of the club. Honor didn’t know whether to put her hand over her eyes or her ears at the swooping neon-green lights and shrieking teenage voices over headaching music, trying not to wince at the number of show-off boys barging around squealing girls. It wasn’t lost on her that the girls, who Stef would have termed jailbait, were dressed pretty much like her — tottering on heels, hemlines high, necklines plunging.
Her eyes got used to the wheeling lights but there were a lot of bobbing heads to block her view. She had to rely on Martyn, his gaze raking the room methodically. ‘I can’t see him,’ he said, bringing his mouth down close to her ear, ‘but there’s some kind of big meeting taking place in the far corner. Let’s wander in that direction.’
Tucking in behind his formidable height as he wove along the edges of the heaving dance floor, Honor was able to negate the worst of the mob effect of excitable kids crammed into too small a space. A whole bunch of wide girlish eyes drank Martyn in as he made his way through the throng, sliding on then to check her out. She wondered how many of them were thinking:he could do better—
‘He’s right in the corner, talking to two older guys,’ he said, suddenly.
Now that they’d made it past the dance floor, Honor was able to step out from behind him and crane up to see that Ru and a group of teens around him were listening and nodding as the two men, one white and wholesome-looking and one black and über-cool, talked. Aaron and Jermaine. Fury flamed inside her. ‘Those dumbass morons!’
Martyn’s eyebrows shot up. ‘How come you’re so well acquainted with local dumbass morons?’
She staggered on her tiptoes, trying to become taller even than the spike heels made her. ‘The guy who brought mehere before? He’s Aaron, the white dumbass. The guy who he brought me to see, who seems to control the local grey labour market — he’s the black dumbass, Jermaine. Aaron works at an employment agency and if he can’t fit someone into a legit job, he brings them to Jermaine to get them work off the payroll. Aaron was so mad when I passed on the opportunity that it’s obvious he gets a commission.’ She dropped back on to her heels. ‘I’m going to talk to those guys.’
Incensed by the trust on the face of Ru and the teens clustered around him, she flung herself through the horde of clubbers-in-training. With a final shove, she burst into the small clearing about Aaron and Jermaine. ‘Well, hi there!’ She beamed around.
Ru looked astonished.
Aaron and Jermaine looked shocked and wary.
She locked her eyes on Ru. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing.’ He shrugged. His expression switched abruptly to dismay. ‘Wait a min—!’ A groan went up from the other kids.
Honor wasn’t surprised, when she looked back at the yard of floor that Aaron and Jermaine had been occupying, to see it suddenly empty. Martyn was standing close by, watching their departing backs and smiling.
‘They’re going!’ objected Ru. ‘But we hadn’t finished.’
