She leaned over and said, “Not so loud, Linda.”

  But Linda was too far gone to care. She kept asking loudly “where they put it” and if they’d “had it cut off.” A couple in a nearby booth turned and stared at them, just as Linda stood up a little unsteadily and started cheering: “More! More!” as the girls finally made their way from the floor.

  The orchestra struck up a dance, and Linda pulled José to his feet. “Come on, let’s dance!” she shouted, dragging him on to the floor. She glanced back at Bella, who just shrugged.

  Bella watched the pair as Linda waltzed round the floor, pulling José with her. He was obviously embarrassed, but was trying not to show it, listening patiently as Linda started talking to him, whispering in his ear.

  When they finally returned to the booth, Linda was flushed, beads of sweat standing out on her forehead. She grabbed the bottle of champagne and poured herself another glass before the waiter standing in attendance could pour it for her.

  José turned to Bella. “Linda’s been telling me you used to be a dancer.”

  Linda raised her glass, spilling the champagne. “And a singer! Boy, can she sing! Tell him about the night we took over that club when we first came here . . .” And Linda was off on a rambling story about their first night in Rio. Then she started tapping the table with her hands. “What was that song we sang? Go on, Bella, what was it?” She clapped her hands. “I’ve got it!” And then she started at the top of her voice: “Money, money, money, money, money, money . . .” over and over and over again, banging on the table with her hands.

  Bella had had enough. She gripped Linda hard by the elbow and said, “I think you’d better go to the ladies’ room. Come on—out!”

  Laughing, Linda grabbed José’s arm. “See? She’s dragging me out! Won’t let me have a good time!”

  “You’re drunk, Linda,” Bella insisted.

  Linda nudged him. “She thinks I’m drunk! I’m not drunk, I’m just having a good time, just like we used to have in the old days. Remember, Bella?”

  José was unsure exactly what to do. Linda was obviously drunk, and Bella was getting very, very upset. “Perhaps if I order coffee . . .”

  “I don’t want any coffee!” Linda snapped. “I’m not drunk, all right!”

  With that, Bella hauled her to her feet and marched her off toward the ladies’ room, while José motioned the head waiter over and ordered a cup of coffee and the dinner menu.

  Bella pushed Linda into the ladies’ room. “You’re going back to the villa, and you’re going back now!”

  Linda was now a bit more subdued. “Oh, come on, Bella, I didn’t do anything!”

  “Not yet, but you’re building up to it. I just don’t understand what gets into you, Linda. For Christ’s sake, why’re you saying those things? Huh? Why’re you going on, nudge, nudge, wink, wink? You tryin’ to break it up between us?”

  Linda sat down, and suddenly the tears started.

  Bella stood with her arms crossed. “That’s not gonna work, Linda. Every time you put your great big foot in it you start howling. Well, it’s not gonna work, you’re not gonna wreck this for me. You’re going back to the villa and you’re going now. I’ll get the chauffeur to bring the Roller round.”

  Linda caught her arm. “No, Bella, don’t, don’t. I’ll be all right—I’ll have some coffee. I promise you I’ll behave myself . . .”

  Bella jerked her arm away. “No, Linda, I’m through with you. I’m through with your moaning. That’s all you’ve done since you’ve been here, moan, moan, moan. You’ve got everything going for you, and you haven’t even changed your goddam money. Well, you’re not gonna wreck this, Linda, you hear me? You’re not!” But as soon as she’d said it, she felt bad. She put her arm round Linda and spoke in a gentler voice. “What is it, Linda? For God’s sake, what’s the matter with you?”

  Linda shrugged. “I dunno, Bella, I just dunno.”

  Bella sighed. “Maybe it would be best you go back, Linda. Go back to the villa.”

  Linda grabbed her hand and held on tight. “Come with me. Come back with me.”

  Bella pulled her hand free. “No, Linda, I’m never going back there. I’m with him, you understand me? I’m with him for good. He means something to me. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  Linda smirked. “Oh, yeah? I’m sure he’ll be the best thing when he finds out what you were!”

  Bella’s hand flew out, slapping Linda hard across the face, just as two women tottered in on six-inch heels, and then Linda was sobbing and Bella wished she hadn’t done it. The women stopped in their tracks and started giggling with their hands over their mouths. Linda screamed at them to mind their own fuckin’ business and they quickly scuttled into the toilet cubicles.

  Bella handed Linda her little evening bag. “Come on, Linda, let’s get you in the car.”

  But Linda shook her head. “I’m stayin’ here. I’m not going back to the villa. I don’t wanna be there by myself!”

  Bella’s expression was hard, and her voice matched it, her old East End accent rising to the surface. “You’re goin’ back, Linda, an’ you better start realizing you are on your own. An’ you better start gettin’ your act together an’ all. I’ve got mine together, Shirley’s got hers, Dolly—”

  “Oh, yeah, Dolly, the lying, twisted bitch, doing whatever the fuck she’s doing back in England . . .”

  That was enough for Bella. She backed away. “You make me sick, you know that? You make me fuckin’ sick! You’re twisted, Linda, you’re all twisted up inside. You wanna smash things up between me an’ José because you’re jealous! You’re jealous, aren’t you? Why don’t you admit it?”

  Linda sat down on the floor, holding her head in her hands. “Yeah, yeah. I am. How come you can get everything together and I’m just a fuck-up? I’ve always been a mess!”

  Bella put her arms round her, trying to calm her down. “I’ll come round and see you tomorrow, OK? I’ll go and get the Roller. Come on, Linda, go home.”

  Bella walked out and Linda was left alone. Once again she had that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. What was the matter with her? Why was she like this? Why did she always feel this terrible need inside her, the need to have somebody with her? Then she remembered Joe, and instantly she was crying again. The two women came out of the cubicles and gave her a pitying look as they muttered to each other in Portuguese. Linda picked up a box of tissues and threw it at them.

  “What you fuckin’ lookin’ at, you tarts?” Linda yanked open the door of the powder room and stormed out, flinging over her shoulder, “Fucking foreigners!”

  Harry had told Tony to park the car a little way up the street so they wouldn’t be so conspicuous, but they had a good view of the villa. Harry sat staring at the main gates for a while. The villa was in darkness. After a few minutes they got out and walked down to it, through the iron gates and down the pathway to the main entrance. Tony looked up at the windows.

  “Nobody seems to be at home.”

  Harry tried the front door, then walked round to one of the ground-floor balconies. He climbed onto the balcony and found the French window open.

  “I can wait.” He entered the villa.

  Tony stood outside for a while, and then followed Harry in. Their footsteps echoed across the marble entrance hall.

  Harry touched Tony’s arm. “I’m goin’ upstairs, OK? See what you can find down here.”

  “What am I looking for? Your wife?”

  “Just see if she’s still staying here. Look for a passport, suitcases, anything.” Then Harry was heading up the stairs.

  Two of the bedrooms were empty. He opened the third bedroom door and walked in. The place was strewn with clothes, the bed unmade. He paused for a moment. He could hear Tony moving round below, doors opening and shutting. Harry started going through the drawers one by one, but apart from underwear and a few toiletries, they were empty.

  Tony went through the kitchen and dining hall, into the lounge. The fridge was empty, apart from a few leftovers and a bottle of wine, and the place seemed deserted. He made his way upstairs, and found Harry on hands and knees, sifting through the contents of the bedside table.

  He looked up. “You find anything?”

  Tony shrugged. “There’s nothing.”

  Harry eyed him suspiciously. “You find any money?”

  Tony seemed to perk up. “Money? You think there’s money here? Believe me, if there’s money, I’ll find it.”

  Harry smiled. “Yeah, I bet you will.” He went into the bathroom. As Tony was pulling the mattress from the bed, he called out, “Just make sure you put everything back where you found it!”

  Harry opened the medicine cabinet above the washbasin. There were bottles of perfume, face cream and suntan lotion. Suddenly Tony shouted from the bedroom, and Harry knocked over a toothbrush glass in surprise. It smashed into the washbasin, cutting the back of his left hand as he tried to catch it. He lifted his bleeding hand to his lips, swore and sucked at the blood. It was only a small cut, but deep. A trickle splashed onto the white washbasin.

  “We gotta go!” shouted Tony. “There is a car!”

  Harry went back into the bedroom and turned off the light. Tony was already at the door.

  “Come on, Harry! We go!”

  Swearing under his breath, Harry went to the balcony and pulled the curtain aside an inch or two so he could see out. Sure enough, the headlights of a car were sweeping down the drive.

  The two men ran down the stairs in the dark, slipped through the French windows and jumped down from the balcony. They threw themselves into the shrubbery just as the Rolls-Royce pulled up at the front door.

  Linda Pirelli stepped out of the Rolls, staggering slightly before regaining her balance. The chauffeur climbed out of the driving seat with a sigh and went round to help her. She shrugged him off and made her way to the front door. She stumbled, dropped her keys, and then fiddled with the lock for a minute, before finally the door opened and she practically fell inside. The chauffeur stood for a moment, arms folded, waiting until the door closed, then got back in the car, shaking his head, and drove away.

  Linda turned on the lights, stood blinking for a moment, then made her way into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She reached for the wine and plonked it on the table. She was rummaging in the kitchen drawer for a corkscrew when she heard the sound of a car horn outside. She sat and listened for a moment, and the horn tooted again. She made her way through the kitchen and along the hall to the lounge balcony. She opened the window and looked out.

  Tony was standing beside his taxi.

  “Oi, what d’ya want?” she called out.

  Tony smiled. “You want the taxi?”

  “No, you got the wrong house, nobody’s called a taxi here.”

  He looked disappointed. “You sure you don’t wanna taxi?”

  “No, I don’t wanna taxi!”

  Tony moved toward the house. “Maybe you gotta telephone I could use?”

  Linda leaned over the balcony. “Don’t you have a radio with you in your cab?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “A radio. Haven’t you got a radio in that taxi?”

  He shrugged. “It’s broken. Please, I use your phone, I ring my office . . .”

  Linda thought for a moment. She should probably tell him to get lost. Then she thought of being all alone in the big, empty house.

  “Ah, well, why not?” She wandered through the lounge and opened the front door.

  He was leaning against the doorframe. “I thank you. I must have got confused with the address. I’m sorry to trouble you.” He smiled at her.

  “You speak good English! Where’d you learn it?”

  “I learn most of my English in bed,” he replied with a wink.

  Instead of being offended, Linda roared with laughter. She waved him in and, still laughing, led the way to the telephone in the hallway. She leaned against the side of the phone table as he picked up the phone.

  “You wanna drink?”

  “That would be very nice, thank you.”

  Linda walked into the kitchen.

  Tony picked up the phone and pretended to dial. Keeping an eye on the kitchen, he spoke rapidly in Portuguese, then replaced the receiver. He followed Linda into the kitchen. She was struggling to open the bottle of wine with a corkscrew.

  “Would you please allow me?”

  Tony took the wine from her and began to open the bottle, without taking his eyes off her. She stared back at him.

  “So you’re a taxi driver, are you?”

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “What’s your name then?”

  “Tony.”

  “All right, Tony, I’ll get some glasses.”

  He followed Linda into the lounge, carrying the bottle. She almost fell into the drinks cabinet, then bent down and brought out two wine glasses.

  “Here you go!”

  She could feel him close beside her, his body almost pressing against her as he poured the wine. She backed away slightly as she picked up her glass.

  “Well, here’s to you, Tony.” Linda swallowed a mouthful of the wine and instantly felt like she was going to vomit. She put down the wine glass as the room began to spin round.

  “Ahh, excuse me for a minute, will you? Aw, Christ, I’m gonna chuck up!” She ran out of the lounge and began to drag herself up the staircase, holding on to the banister to stop herself from falling. Tony followed her out of the lounge and stood leaning against the doorway, calmly sipping his wine and watching.

  In her bedroom, Linda didn’t even turn on the light, just tumbled into the bathroom. She fumbled for the cord and pulled it, and the light almost blinded her. When she was able to open her eyes again, the first thing she saw was a single drop of blood on the side of the washbasin. Then she saw the broken glass. Heart racing, Linda staggered to the cistern, lifted the lid, reached down into the water and pulled out the plastic bag.

  Thank God, her money was safe. Clutching the dripping bag tightly, she went into the bedroom. Her nausea had disappeared, but it had been replaced by fear. She saw the drawers pulled out, the mattress half off the bed. Someone had been looking for something. What if they’d taken her money and just replaced the bag? She began ripping at the heavy black plastic and there, underneath it, in another see-through plastic bag, was her precious money. She opened it to make sure it was all there, sighing with relief as she walked out onto the landing. Tony was almost at the top of the stairs. He still had the wine glass in his hand.

  “There you are, Leenda. Hey, what have you got there?”

  She took two steps back, clutching the bag to her chest. “What are you doing up here? Just get back down the stairs, you hear me? You go back down those stairs!”

  He put on a hurt expression. “Come on, Leenda, why don’t you be nice to me, eh?”

  Linda retreated toward the bedroom. She was holding the bag upside down and money began to spill out. She made a frantic grab for the tumbling notes, but then she saw Tony coming closer, with that creepy smile on his face, and rushed through the door, slamming it behind her and quickly locking it.

  On the landing, Tony looked at all the money on the floor, wondering if Christmas had come early. He picked up a handful of notes, held them to his nose and breathed deeply. Yes, that was the smell of money. He knocked gently on the door.

  “Leenda, open the door. Come on, Leenda . . .”

  Inside the bedroom, Linda could hear his voice—soft and wheedling—and the sound of the doorknob turning round and round. “Leenda, open the door for Tony. Come on, Leenda . . .”

  The only way to escape was over the balcony. Linda pushed open the louvre doors and started to climb over, but hampered by her long evening dress and still clinging on to the money with one hand, she wasn’t sure she was going to make it.

  Below, Rawlins looked up. The crazy bitch was teetering on the edge of the balcony. He saw her hesitate for a moment, then there was a crash as Tony broke through the bedroom door, and she jumped.

  Linda’s breath was knocked out of her as she landed with a thud in the flower bed. Her head was throbbing and her shins felt as if someone had kicked them with hobnailed boots, but the pain was nothing compared with the desperate voice screaming inside her to run, run for her life. Kicking off her high heels and hiking up her dress with her free hand, she sprinted toward the shrubberies. At least there in the dark she could hide and maybe get her breath back.

  Suddenly a figure loomed in front of her, his white shirt gleaming in the moonlight. She screeched in terror but managed to keep her footing, veering off to the right, toward the swimming pool.

  Seeing Tony jump down from the balcony, Harry paused in his pursuit and called out, “Turn the taxi round and wait by the gates, you hear me?”

  Tony pointed at the figure in the red dress disappearing round the corner of the villa. “Look, she has money, much money! Don’t let her get away!”

  Harry grabbed him and manhandled him over to the cab.

  “You listen to me. Get in and start the fucking engine, all right? You wait for me!”

  Tony pushed Harry away and Harry took off, following Linda toward the swimming pool. Tony got down on his knees and began picking up the money. So many fifty pound notes—it was crazy. He started stuffing it as fast as he could into his pockets, following the trail of money as it led toward the swimming pool.

  At the edge of the pool, Linda turned. Harry was walking toward her.

  “Stay where you are, Linda. Just stay where you are!”

  She shook her head. “No, leave me alone. Please don’t hurt me, please don’t hurt me!”

  He held his hands out to calm her. “Linda, I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to know where she is. Where’s Dolly?”

  She heard him, but she was so panicked that his words made no sense. She backed away and tripped over one of the loungers. Whimpering in terror, she picked herself up and started edging along the side of the pool.

  Harry kept on coming.