Derreck’s face was sombre. ‘I’m sorry too. JP is my mate. Was my mate. But … hey, Stace.’ He crawled to the end of the bed and held her by the shoulders. She was crying now. Great big tears of guilt every time she remembered the anguish on John-Paul’s face and that guttural sound he’d made. ‘It will be okay. No regrets, remember? You’re worth losing my mate over.’ He folded her in his arms and she knew she felt the same. Being without him was more unbearable than hurting John-Paul. That was the truth of it. She had three days left before they returned to the UK and she wanted to spend every minute with Derreck. For that to happen John-Paul had had to find out about them.
He kissed her longingly, hungrily. ‘Derreck,’ she murmured. ‘I can’t. I have to talk to John-Paul.’ She reluctantly pulled away from him even though it took everything she had.
He sat back on the bed, still naked, his lovely blond hair tousled. She couldn’t look at him or her resolve would vanish, and John-Paul needed an explanation.
‘I’ll wait here for you,’ he said. She leant over and kissed him, then ran from the room before she could change her mind.
John-Paul was in the garden under the awning, their friends crowded around him. They looked up at her as she approached, their body language frosty. John-Paul stared ahead at the pool, avoiding her gaze. If only she’d woken earlier she could have spoken to John-Paul before everyone else had got up, could have explained it. Yes, he’d have been gutted, but for him to see her in bed with another man, his mate, God, she felt sick.
Stace stood in front of them all, like she was facing a trial. Leonie was practically sitting on John-Paul’s lap, her boobs in his face. Maggie was perched on the arm of the sun-lounger and Hannah was standing behind him, rubbing his shoulders. The men knelt by his side, like he was some kind of emperor.
‘He doesn’t want to talk to you,’ hissed Leonie, her eyes narrowed. ‘How could you? What’s wrong with you? Are you some kind of animal?’
Stace hung her head. Was she? What was wrong with her? How could she do this to the man she’d thought she loved?
‘I thought you’d have more respect for me,’ said John-Paul, meeting her eyes and speaking to her for the first time.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I really didn’t mean to hurt you.’
John-Paul stood up and the others fell away from him. His eyes were red and puffy. He stalked off towards the villa and Stace followed. Thankfully, the others stayed where they were. She shadowed him through the kitchen and into the living room at the front, a room they rarely used. The shutters were closed and it was cool, with dark wooden floorboards and cream sofas. John-Paul shut the door behind them, standing in front of it. She felt a swell of panic. She was trapped.
‘Who are you?’ He shook his head, his eyes hardening. ‘I never thought you’d do this to me. Never in a million years. How could you, Anastacia? How could you? I thought you loved me.’
He started to cry again and the sight of him so broken made her crack. Tears rolled down her own cheeks. She’d never seen him cry in the eighteen months they’d been together.
‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, John-Paul. I didn’t want to hurt you but … I can’t explain it. I’ve never felt like it before … I just …’
‘Oh, thanks. So you’re saying you feel more for this guy after two minutes than you do for me after nearly two fucking years? What has he got that I haven’t? Huh? Oh, yeah, that’s right.’ He waved his arms in the air as if he’d had the answer all along. ‘Money!’
But it wasn’t the money. She couldn’t have cared less about that. How could she explain that it was chemistry: powerful and intoxicating sexual chemistry. That she was drawn to him in a way she couldn’t control. Like he was her soul-mate. She had to be with him even if it hurt everyone else. But she remained silent. Anything she said would be too painful for him to hear.
He assessed her. ‘Don’t you love me?’
‘I – I thought so, I really did. But how can I if I feel this way about Derreck?’
He let out a sound like a yowl. ‘Fucking hell. I can’t believe this. I mean, I saw the way he was with you. I saw you sneak out every evening when you thought I was asleep. Is that what you were doing every night? Fucking him?’
She blanched. It wasn’t like John-Paul to use coarse language. ‘No, nothing happened between us until last night. And you!’ A sob caught in her throat. ‘You pushed me away! You wouldn’t tell me about Goa. Derreck had to in the end. You were keeping secrets from me and when I tried to ask you about them you refused to talk to me.’ She held up her arms in desperation.
‘Oh, I bet he loved telling you that. Painting me as the villain.’
‘I just wish you’d told me …’
‘And has your precious Derreck told you the truth about why he wanted us here, yet?’
‘The ornaments …’
He expelled a bitter laugh. ‘Those fucking ornaments. They’re filled with drugs.’
She stared at him in shock. ‘Of course they aren’t. I checked. They – they’re solid wood.’ But a part of her had always known, hadn’t it? Maybe the others did too.
‘Yep. Derreck was going to put us all in danger. Get us all to smuggle them out of the country. Even you, Stace. Even you.’
‘You agreed? Even though you knew.’
‘I’d never have done it. Not when I knew for certain what they contained.’
She remembered the drugs in Goa. ‘But this wouldn’t have been the first time. Isn’t that right? Is this what you and Derreck did on your “travels”？’
He shook his head. ‘Who are you?’
‘And who are you?’ she shot back angrily. ‘We obviously didn’t know each other at all.’
His dark eyes flashed and he lunged for her, grabbing hold of her upper arms and shaking her. And then he let go of her so suddenly she lost her balance and collapsed onto the hard wooden floor. She cried out, more from shock than anything else.
Suddenly Derreck burst into the room in his boxer shorts and a T-shirt. ‘Leave her alone,’ he yelled. ‘I could hear you shouting at her from upstairs.’
It all happened in a blur. John-Paul leapt at Derreck, his fist catching the side of Derreck’s jaw. Stace jumped back as John-Paul landed another punch to the other side of Derreck’s face.
And she screamed in horror as Derreck collapsed to the floor, his head smacking against the hard wood, blood flying from his lips.
‘No!’ she cried, pushing past John-Paul to kneel beside Derreck’s motionless body. ‘What have you done?’
45
Jenna
‘And you!’ says Anastacia, staring at me after she’s finished her story, her voice hard, and I wonder why she’s even telling me this. ‘This is off the record. It happened when we were in Thailand in 1980. I never even knew Derreck’s surname.’
‘So John-Paul went to prison? In Thailand?’ I ask, confused.
‘Yes.’
‘In 1980?’ I clarify. Dale never mentioned he’d gone to a Thai prison. I’d assumed it was in the UK.