to retain my youth has backfired on me.’ She points to her chin, which I notice now is particularly hooked. ‘My cheeks are stuffed with sacks of liquid, and I’ve had more stitches in my face than it would take to sew a leg on.’
Lucy and Mark laugh loudly, while I study Becker, trying to read the situation and his persona. He looks entirely comfortable.
‘So, who are these fine young people?’ she asks him, waving a bent finger at us.
Forced into pleasantries, Becker makes the introductions. ‘This is Mark, Lucy, and Eleanor.’ He waves a hand casually to each of us as he pulls his mobile from his inside pocket and frowns down at the screen. ‘Excuse me a moment, Lady Winchester.’ He strides off, answering the call, without another word or a second look at me, so he can’t see my stunned expression. Who’s that, and where is he going?
Lady Winchester gives all of us the once over with her sparkling eyes. ‘Into threesomes?’
It’s me coughing over my champagne this time. Did I hear her right?
‘Don’t look so shocked, kids,’ she says off-hand. ‘I might look like a train wreck, but I’ve still got the moves.’ She winks, and Lucy and Mark fall apart, along with Lady Winchester, while I stare at her, shocked. ‘Come, let me lavish you with tales of London in the sixties. I was a sex siren.’ She beckons them into her personal space, and both of them go, fascinated.
I take their distraction as an opportunity to hunt down Becker, taking off in the direction in which he headed, and I soon find myself in the huge room where the auction was held, but instead of the rows and rows of chairs facing a rostrum, there are now round tables edged with chairs that have huge black silk bows fastened to the back. Each table is covered in blood-red organza, with black orchids arranged elaborately in tall glass vases, and the tableware – plates, bowls and napkins— are all black. Black and red. It’s harsh but forgiving. It’s sexy but tasteful. It’s miles away from the originality of the mansion, but very much in keeping with the Heart of Hell, the giant ruby that’s being showcased this evening. People are milling around, some already seated. I spot Becker at the bar.
‘Haig,’ he mutters to the barman as I join him. ‘On the rocks.’
I place my glass down beside him. ‘That woman. It’s the Lady Winchester, isn’t it? The one from the file at The Haven.’
‘Yes,’ he answers shortly, keeping his attention away from me. It’s no wonder Becker made a sharp exit from her company. I’ll be sure to steer clear of her for the rest of the evening. We can’t be associated with people under investigation for forged art. Because, of course, my Becker is as straight-laced as they come.
The barman hands Becker his drink, and it’s knocked back in one. He slams his glass down and holds onto it, his fingers white from his harsh grip. I eye him, seeing his breathing increasing, like he’s getting more and more worked up. Something’s not right. Who called him? What did they say?
‘Tell me what’s going on,’ I demand, feeling a bit fretful.
‘Why don’t you tell me?’ He looks at me, pure disdain tarnishing his angel eyes. His lips twist, and he leans in as he reaches into his inside pocket. ‘Why are you making calls to your ex?’
His question is a bolt out of the blue, and I am less than prepared for it. Fuck. ‘It’s not what you think. I was simp—’ I stop abruptly. Wait a minute. ‘How do you even know?’
He looks at me out the corner of his eye, and realisation slams into me.
‘You’ve got my bloody phone bugged, haven’t you?’ I’m flummoxed. ‘That was Percy on the phone giving you details of my recent calls.’ What the fuck is he playing at?
‘If you don’t get the message across,’ Becker ignores my accusation, his tone menacing, ‘then I’m not opposed to doing it myself. I doubt I’ll be as diplomatic as you.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Do you still think of him?’
‘Seriously?’ I blurt, outraged. ‘No, I don’t.’ What’s the matter with him? ‘I asked him to return the keys for my father’s shop. That’s all. I didn’t think it was worth mentioning it because—’
‘Because what?’
‘This!’ I snap, boring holes into Becker’s profile with an angry gaze as he stares ahead. ‘But it seems I didn’t need to mention it, since