Page 131 of The Island of Lost Girls

‘Girls coming?’

‘Of course.’

‘If they can walk,’ says Jason Pettit, and sniggers. Stops and frowns. ‘Oh, God damn the Daily Mail.’

‘What?’ asks the prince.

‘The usual dirty-minded tittle-tattle. Jesus.’

‘Ha,’ says Tatiana, ‘if only they knew,’ and all the men’s heads snick round to look at her.

‘Oh, by the way, Mercy darling, the safe room needs a clean. We ended up in there for a bit last night.’

A rush of relief. No need for subterfuge. Tatiana has just made her life a whole world easier.

‘Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll let you in,’ Tatiana says.

‘Of course,’ she replies, smiling.

It’s lunchtime by the time the girls appear. Hanne, Wei-Cheng, Sara: floral cotton play-suits and shortie kimonos. Hair tousled, sleep still in the corners of their eyes. Walking like old people. She hears them on the stairs and they’re not happy.

‘ … didn’t sign up for that … ’ says Wei-Cheng.

‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ says Sara, ‘What did you think you were getting twenty grand for? Backgammon and a quick nosh? They’re not a bloody charity.’

‘Yeah, but—’ begins Hanne.

‘Give it a rest. Nobody kidnapped you. Besides, that was the main event. I think. All downhill from here.’

‘Christ, I hope so.’

‘They’re all off on the Old Man’s boat at dawn tomorrow,’ says Sara. ‘So, you know … ’

‘Christ, I feel like shit, though,’ says Wei-Cheng. ‘I don’t feel as if I’ve had any sleep at all. D’you remember going to bed? I don’t even remember going to bed.’

‘Yeah,’ says Sara, ‘it does take it out of you.’

They round the spiral, catch sight of Mercedes at the bottom and put on their game faces. ‘Morning!’ they cry.

‘Good morning,’ she says. ‘The others are out by the pool.’

‘Whoop,’ mutters Hanne. Then she smiles brightly. Automatically.

‘Can I get you anything?’ asks Mercedes.

‘I’d kill for a coffee,’ says Hanne.

‘Daiquiri,’ say Wei-Cheng and Sara, together.

‘Gemma still in bed?’

Little frowns of surprise cross their faces.

‘Oh. No,’ says Hanne. ‘I’d assumed she’d got up already. Isn’t she downstairs?’

‘Maybe I didn’t see her,’ says Mercedes, and looks for the little bag she left out for her on the table.

It’s not there any more.