Della’s Story

‘WE DON’T have much time,’ the man told me in a low, hurried voice.

I could see that we didn’t. The taxi was on its way down the slope to the harbour, and we were going to be there at any moment.

‘All I can say now,’ he said, ‘is that I need help badly, and you’re the only person who can give it to me.’

‘How?’

‘I’m being nudged-well, frog-marched-into a marriage I don’t want to make. Selina’s a banker’s daughter, and money must marry money. That sort of thing.’

‘Sure, like you’re a millionaire,’ I said sceptically.

‘I told you who I am. Jack Bullen.’

‘Yes, after I’d given you all the clues. That story will do well enough for Vanner, but not me. I suppose you work on his yacht?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Honestly, I’m grateful to you for saving me, but I wasn’t born yesterday. The silver plate’s wearing off those cufflinks, and I’ll bet you borrowed the flash clothes from your boss.’

He tore his hair, and I had to admit that the tousled look suited him.

‘I haven’t got time to argue,’ he said. ‘Look, this is the harbour, and there’s a boat ready to take us to The Hawk. Just act like you’re wildly in love with me, and you might save me from a fate worse than death.’

He was mad, but I owed him a lot, so I reckoned I’d play along. I was feeling light-headed by then, and willing to let the night end any way it would.

He paid off the cab and we headed towards a small boat that was waiting. The pilot greeted us with a wave.

‘Evening, Pete.’

‘Evening, Mr Bullen.’

I was too astounded to speak until I was settled into the boat.