The Stone Wife

‘Late in the day,’ Lee said, continuing to pour out words. ‘It had better not be before noon. We always sleep in after a night shoot, don’t we, my love?’

‘I don’t have press in my house,’ Nathan said. ‘Tell her to piss off.’

‘She’s not from a newspaper. She’s a freelance showbiz writer.’

‘You heard me.’

There was a pause of several uncomfortable seconds. ‘But I need the publicity,’ Lee said. ‘It’s essential in my work. My fans want to read about me or they won’t buy my music. Why do you think I’ve been busting my ass every night this week? Give me a break, Nathan.’

‘Are you going to change out of those stupid clothes, or what?’ Nathan plainly wasn’t impressed by his lover’s moving appeal.

‘You’re my manager,’ Lee tried to remind him. ‘You should be celebrating when I get the chance of a photo feature. Listen, my love, why don’t we talk about this in the morning?’

‘You know where the car is.’ Nathan turned his wrist and checked the shiny chunk of metal attached to it, a thing more like a weapon than a timepiece. ‘You got five minutes. If not, find your own fucking transport.’

His eyes hadn’t returned to Ingeborg in the whole of the exchange. He’d dismissed her.

This couldn’t have got off to a worse start. Trying to contain her anger, she said to Lee, ‘We’ll work something out. I’ve got your number. I’ll call you.’

She expected Lee to be close to tears. Strangely, she wasn’t. If anything, her eyes had a faint gleam of triumph. Extraordinary, Ingeborg thought. Maybe she got off on treatment like this. Was she one of those women who was switched on by bullying? A willing victim? It might explain why she’d been drawn to such a scumbag in the first place.

‘No problem,’ the singer said with a smile, and ran down the steps to the saloon where she’d left her clothes.

Nathan turned in the direction of the gangway, closely followed by his two heavies.

Ingeborg wasn’t troubled by being treated as if she didn’t exist. She knew the criminal class don’t like journalists. If the evening had panned out the way she intended she wouldn’t have met Nathan at all. She’d have gained entrance to his house before he was aware who she was and why she was there.

She had the chance to leave now, but she didn’t. She was interested to see whether Lee would throw on her clothes and dash upstairs in obedience to her less than charming lover, or whether she’d play the pop star again and keep him waiting. If she chose to defy him, would he be true to his word and leave without her? Or was he a softie when it came to the crunch?

Here was an opportunity to get a sense of the real relationship between these two. For her own safety, Ingeborg needed to know she could rely on Lee. That look in the young woman’s eyes after Nathan had played the heavy was deeply unsettling.

She decided to go below and check the First Class Ladies Saloon for herself and presently found herself in a lavishly reconstructed, well-lit and carpeted corridor, with passenger berths at either side. Victorian grandeur was everywhere around her. She could hear voices from the end where the saloon evidently was. She entered the saloon through a gilded arch and took in more luxuriance, the white and gold columns, the arabesque pilasters, the ornate mirrors and the tiered sofas. But she couldn’t see Lee Li. One of the women she’d met on the promenade deck was packing make-up jars and brushes into a case.

Ingeborg asked where Lee was.

‘She’s come and gone.’

‘I don’t think so. I was on deck a moment ago and she didn’t pass me on the stairs.’

‘She left two or three minutes ago — definitely. She was in a hurry.’

‘But I would have seen her.’

‘That isn’t the only way to the top deck. She could easily have used one of the others.’

‘Why would she do that?’

‘Don’t ask me, love. She’s in a world of her own. I expect it’s the blood rushing to her head when she’s up there on the wire.’

Ingeborg turned and ran out of the saloon and along the corridor until she found another companionway. At the top of the stairs she found she was on the other side of the funnel on a deserted stretch of the deck. She went to the rail and looked over. Nathan’s two bodyguards were standing beside an expensive-looking black limousine a little apart from the vans that had brought the heavy equipment. Presumably their boss was inside, waiting.

In that case Lee hadn’t been hurrying to order. She was still somewhere aboard the Great Britain.

The sensible option was to remain above deck and keep watching the gangway — the only way off the ship. Ingeborg started in that direction and found a few of the TV crew packing up equipment in near darkness. The floodlights had all been turned off and were cooling and the cables were being reeled in. She asked if anyone had seen Lee. They shook their heads. None of them showed any concern. The unpunctual singer wasn’t anybody’s favourite.

Her own first impression of Lee had been positive, probably because she hadn’t had to put up with several days of lateness. She’d thought her charming and easy to get along with, but she couldn’t understand her present behaviour. Baiting her dangerous lover to this extent was asking for trouble.