‘Dudley’s probably in the VIP bar downstairs. It’s where he tends to hang out. Though I doubt he’ll be of much help,’ she added, remembering what Dudley had said about Johnny earlier. ‘He and Johnny don’t exactly get on, do they?’
‘I’ve checked everywhere else I can think of,’ Arthur said grimly, and again Lizzie felt the razor-sharp edge of anxiety beneath his words. ‘Dudley’s my last hope. Not that I expected to have to accost him in a club. Not two days after Amelia died.’ Once again, Lizzie could sense the anger and disgust in him, held under tight control. ‘I had to search the celebrity gossip online to find out where he was likely to be. Can you believe that?’ He broke off. ‘Yes, of course you can.’ He shook his head sharply. ‘You probably came here to spend the evening with him.’
‘Less of the judging please,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’m helping you, remember?’ She didn’t even bother trying to explain to Arthur why she was looking for Dudley herself. ‘Let’s hope he knows something,’ she said. ‘And that you won’t end up punching him.’
She saw Arthur smile. ‘I have more self-control than that, and certainly more than Dudley has.’
Lizzie didn’t doubt it. ‘You really don’t like Dudley, do you?’ she said. ‘By which I mean you hate him.’ The power of the antagonism she sensed in him shocked her. She knew Dudley would hardly be Arthur’s favourite person but it felt as though there was something very dark and complicated here.
Arthur raised his brows. ‘You don’t need to be a mind reader to know that,’ he said curtly.
They went down the white staircase, past the twirling statue of a mermaid on a unicorn, into the aquatic-themed cellar bar. A few people nodded and called out a greeting to Lizzie. People were looking at Arthur as they passed, probably because he was so good-looking but also, Lizzie suspected, because they were wondering where they had seen him before. Most of them wouldn’t remember. The world of celebrity had a high turnover.
The bar was only half full and a quick check proved that Dudley wasn’t there. Lizzie followed the insistent thud of the beat towards the dancefloor but couldn’t see him there either.
‘The guy behind the bar says Dudley hasn’t been in tonight,’ Arthur said, joining her, his gaze fixed on the swaying dancers. His shoulder brushed Lizzie’s. She felt acutely aware of him and wasn’t sure whether it was the intimate darkness or the pulse of the music that was influencing her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, as they made their way back through the bar. ‘It was a long shot.’
‘Dudley told you he’d be here, though,’ Arthur said, and it wasn’t a question. ‘You expected to find him.’
Lizzie stopped. They looked at one another. ‘OK,’ she said after a moment, ‘evidently I’m not the only one who can read minds.’
She thought Arthur almost smiled. ‘It was an educated guess,’ he said, ‘no more. I don’t share your gift.’
‘All right,’ Lizzie said, sighing. ‘I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you’d make another of your judgemental comments, that’s all. Dudley was round at my flat earlier and he mentioned he was coming on here. I guess he changed his mind. I didn’t come here to party with him,’ she added, hating that she was explaining herself. ‘I just thought… I thought he wasn’t doing himself any favours by being so crassly insensitive at a time like this and I wanted to try and persuade him to go home.’
‘That’s hardly your responsibility,’ Arthur said, holding the door open for her as they exited the bar and started back up the stairs.
‘No,’ Lizzie admitted.
‘I’m looking out for Johnny because he’s my brother, he’s seventeen and I’ve looked out for him all my life,’ Arthur said. ‘Whereas you and Dudley—’
‘There is no me and Dudley,’ Lizzie snapped. ‘I was trying to be a friend, that’s all.’
Arthur was silent.
‘Look,’ Lizzie said, as they reached the top of the steps and were standing once again under the huge central chandelier in the hall. She fumbled for her phone, pulling it out of her pocket. ‘I know this is important so I’ll give Dudley a call—’
Arthur’s hand closed over hers on the phone. ‘Why?’ he said. ‘Why would you care?’
‘God, you make things difficult,’ Lizzie said. She stared up defiantly into his eyes. ‘I care about Johnny because it’s clear he’s desperately unhappy,’ she said, ‘and I understand how horrible it feels to lose someone close