Twice Upon a Time (12 page)

When they returned to the villa, Gus was talking on the phone at the end of the private jetty.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ he yelled as Ludo and Cinda disembarked. He strode over to them.

‘None of your business,’ said Ludo cheerfully.

‘You know you’re not supposed to go out without your guards,’ said Gus, furious. ‘I’ve been out of my mind with worry.’

Ludo just laughed. ‘You need a new hobby,’ he said as he brushed past his brother.

‘I don’t have time for this,’ growled Gus, and he turned to Cinda. ‘Do you understand that he can’t be without his bodyguards? Did you know this?’

Cinda shook her head. ‘I didn’t know.’

‘Leave her out of it,’ yelled Ludo.

Gus moved closer to Cinda so he was almost standing over her. ‘Did you know we receive daily threats to our family, Cinda? Political activists, terrorists, crazies. How would you feel if something happened to him?’

Ludo pushed Gus in the chest. ‘I said leave her alone.’

There was no warning as Gus swung a punch, landing it on Ludo’s jaw, propelling him backwards off the jetty and into the water.

‘Oh my god,’ gasped Cinda as Ludo surfaced, spluttering.

Gus had already turned and was striding back to towards the villa.

Ludo climbed up the wooden ladder at the end of the jetty, shaking water out of his hair and wringing out his shirt. His jaw hurt like hell.

‘Jesus,’ said Cinda as she grabbed him by the arm. ‘What was that about?’

Ludo looked up towards the house. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I mean, I’ve snuck off without my bodyguards a few times. I always get in trouble but it’s never been such a big deal before.’

‘It seems the real person you need protection against is your brother,’ said Cinda, reaching over to touch his sore jaw. She looked cute when she was worried.

Ludo smiled and put his wet arms around her. ‘You know what? He’s just jealous because I have a beautiful girl and no cares in the world and he has bossy Perrette and all the troubles of the country.‘

When Ludo and Cinda got back there was no sign of Gus or Jonas.

‘Come and shower with me,’ said Ludo as they walked inside.

Cinda looked at him. He thought for a moment she might just go for it. ‘I think you can shower by yourself,’ she said with that smile that drove him crazy. She headed towards her room, turning at the door. ‘
Ciao
,’ she said flirtatiously.

Ludo laughed and went to his own rooms, where he found Gus sitting in a chair in the corner.

‘What do you want now?’ asked Ludo, peeling off his wet T-shirt.

‘I wanted to ensure you weren’t hurt,’ said Gus.

‘Is that your way of apologising? I’m fine. That was a pissweak punch,’ said Ludo, only half-lying.

‘Would you like me to try again?’ offered Gus.

Ludo stared at him. ‘What is your problem? You overreacted today. You must have seen the speedboat was out. You would have known I was out with Cinda. Even the goon squad could have worked that out. So why the complete flip out?’

Gus stood up and looked out the doorway to the balcony. ‘She needs to go,’ he said, not looking at Ludo.

Ludo stared at his brother’s back, cold fury washing over him. ‘And why is that?’

‘Because she’s not one of us.’

‘She’s not a snobbish prick like you and Perrette, true,’ said Ludo, giving a humourless laugh and heading to the bathroom. He stripped to his underwear and turned on the shower.

Gus came and stood in the doorway of the bathroom. ‘I mean it, Ludo. She goes, and by the end of the week.’

Ludo shook his head. ‘She’s not going anywhere. I’ve hired her to paint my portrait. It could take months.’

Gus’s face dropped and Ludo looked his brother in the eye. ‘I like her. I like her a lot. More than any of the others. So back off.’

‘You know Mamma will never stand for it.’

‘I don’t care. And honestly? Neither does Mamma. All she really cares about is making sure you get on the throne,’ spat Ludo. ‘Now run off to Mammina and tell her what a disaster I am. I have to have a shower.’

13

Gus boarded the chopper. He needed backup, he needed a plan. That meant heading to Paris, because the only person who could concoct a plan elaborate enough to rid him of this whole mess was Perrette.

She had a canny mind and could strategise better than any leader he had ever met. Perrette could run the White House, the United Nations and organise a fashion show all at the same time.

When the chopper touched down in Paris, Gus breathed a sigh of relief. His father was French, and Gus always felt at home there. He hopped into the Audi that was waiting to drive him to the family’s Parisian apartments.

Perrette had said she would meet him there. His mother was having a fitting at Dior, so she would be out for the afternoon, which suited Gus just fine.

When he entered the apartment through the grand entryway, he heard Perrette on her phone. She was speaking in French, and he waved at her across the spacious reception room as he pulled out his own phone.

No news from the villa; he wondered if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

Ludo’s bodyguards had promised to let him know if Ludo did anything rash, and to keep an eye on Cinda and Jonas.

He felt bad about punching his brother, but no-one made him angrier than Ludo.

Perrette finished her phone call and walked over to him, her face barely grazing his as she kissed him on each cheek.

Dressed in head-to-toe caramel cashmere and her usual Hervé Brion signature red scarf, she smelled of money and cigarettes.

‘What’s happening with your idiot brother?’ she asked as she perched on the nearest couch.

That annoyed Gus, even though he knew it was true that Ludo was an idiot. He always felt he was the only one who could call Ludo an idiot, but since he needed Perrette’s help, he let it pass. This was his usual strategy with Perrette.

‘He’s brought two backpackers from Australia to the summer villa.’

Perrette made a face.

‘One of them is a girl, and he seems quite involved,’ added Gus. He didn’t look at Perrette, instead moving to the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.

‘I assume they’ve slept together?’ she asked, as she lit a Gauloise and sat back, crossing her slim legs.

She’s the epitome of French chic
, he thought as he turned to look at her. So different to Cinda. The image of her in Ludo’s oversized T-shirt, stalking down the hallway, came to mind. He felt himself both turned on and angry at the memory. He started as he heard Perrette saying his name.

‘Well, have they?’ she asked, her face pinched.

‘I think so.’

‘Let’s hope she doesn’t get pregnant,’ she said, giving Gus a judgemental glance.

Gus didn’t say anything. Cinda getting pregnant didn’t seem very likely.

‘Women can be dangerous, Gus,’ said Perrette knowingly, seeing his scepticism. ‘I see them when they come in for fittings. Second, third, fourth wives. Scheming all the time. Look at Albert over in Monaco. More illegitimate kids than he can count, it’s ridiculous.’ Perrette stood up and butted the cigarette out in a Limoges ashtray.

Gus sat down and sighed. ‘I don’t know what to do. I tried to confront him but we had a nasty fight. I punched him.’

‘Really?’ Perrette glided over to him. ‘I like the idea of you being all manly for a change. Did you knock him out?’ she asked as she sat lightly on his lap.

Gus let the dig go, like he always did. ‘No, I knocked him off the jetty though,’ he said, shifting uncomfortably as Perrette’s bony butt dug into his thigh.

She leant down and kissed him. ‘Would you ever fight for my honour?’

‘Perhaps,’ said Gus with a smile.

Perrette stood up and led him down the hallway. She untied her scarf as she went, which always meant she was ready for business.

She was sexy in a feline way, he thought as she pushed him onto the bed and undressed for him. So why did he wish it were Cinda undressing for him instead of Perrette?

When they emerged from the bedroom, Perrette groomed back to her usual perfection, Gus ordered them coffee and sat at the table on the balcony overlooking the city. He wondered why he felt so unsettled.

He should feel good. He was in the city he loved, sipping coffee with the girl he was going to spend the rest of his life with. But he just couldn’t shake the feeling of uncertainty.

What was Cinda doing? Was she by the pool? Painting? In bed with Ludo? That last thought came with a stab to the chest.

‘I have an idea,’ said Perrette as she sipped her coffee and ignored the delicate pastries arranged on the marble-topped table.

His willpower was nothing compared to Perrette’s. She could say no to anything, no matter how much she wanted it. Even her body didn’t dare disobey her. Perrette never gave into whims, except when it came to fashion.

‘Yes?’ he asked, watching the traffic below.

‘Your trip to Africa. In a few weeks?’

‘It’s in two weeks,’ he said. ‘What of it?’

He was supposed to travel with a delegate of young European royals through southern and central Africa. It was to highlight the need for more aid, but also to see the philanthropic work the families were already doing. Perrette had said she couldn’t go with Gus; she was too busy, as usual. They both knew that, really, she didn’t like the way Africa made her hair frizzy.

‘Send Ludo instead,’ she said. ‘Get him away from this backpacker.’

Gus thought for a moment. ‘But Mamma expects me to go.’

‘She’ll understand once you talk her through it. And it’ll be good for Ludo. It’ll show that there’s more to the next generation than just you.’

Gus sat in thought. In theory it was a good idea. But Ludo, alone in Africa? With other young royals to corrupt? The fallout could be dire.

But then, what option did he have? ‘It might work,’ he said slowly.

‘It will work,’ said Perrette. She was always confident in her decisions.

‘
Ciao
, Augustus,’ he heard his mother’s voice behind him. He stood and turned, bowing to his mother, who then kissed him on each cheek.

‘Perrette,’ she said, and Perrette curtsied to Queen Sofia, then kissed her on both cheeks as well.

Gus was never sure whether his mother actually liked Perrette. Their mutual interests extended only to fashion and Gus’s reputation. They expected both to be flawless.

‘Why are you here, darling?’ asked Sofia as she led them into the reception room and sat on an ornately carved sofa. ‘I thought you were at the Riviera del Corallo for the rest of the summer.’

‘It’s about Ludo,’ he said, noticing how the queen rolled her eyes a little in response. ‘I think we need to send him to Africa instead of me.’

‘What’s he done now?’

‘It’s what he might do,’ said Gus, deciding not to go into detail about the backpackers. ‘He’s made . . . some new friends,’ he said carefully. ‘I don’t think they’re very good for him.’

‘Ludovic’s friends are rarely any good,’ Sofia sighed, looking over to Perrette, who nodded in agreement. ‘Africa, you say?’ the queen asked as she rang the small silver bell that was on the Louis XIV wooden table next to the couch.

‘Yes, I think it’s best.’

‘It is a good thing your father isn’t here to see what a disaster his younger son is,’ she said with a shake of her head, and Gus saw a look of sadness cross her face.