‘Shit, I can’t believe we’ve got this boring dinner with Miles’ dad tonight,’ he said, pulling the ring off. ‘I don’t know why we couldn’t have gone to Nassau.’
Alex couldn’t believe how ungrateful they were. All week they had found something to grumble about, despite the island’s incredible hospitality.
‘Why did you want to go to Nassau?’ he asked, containing himself.
‘To go to the casino, of course,’ said Oscar witheringly. ‘Although I doubt it would have been your scene, Alex.’
‘Do you play baccarat, Dolly?’ asked Angus.
‘Haven’t you heard of the Macclesfield Working Men’s Domino and Baccarat Club? It’s internationally famous,’ said Alex, trying to recover some dignity.
‘What’s going on here?’ asked Miles as he walked up from the cabin.
Miles Ashford was an impressive young man by anyone’s standards. Not conventionally good-looking, he had a manner and confidence that demanded attention. In shorts and a pale blue shirt, he looked older and more sophisticated than his years. Alex thought he resembled a movie star stepping out for drinks on the terrace.
‘Oh, we were just inviting Alex over to Nassau for a flutter on the tables.’ Oscar smirked. ‘I’m not sure he’s keen, though.’
Miles’ bright blue eyes darted between the three boys, correctly assessing the mood in an instant. ‘Well, I’m not surprised,’ he said with an elegant shrug of the shoulders. ‘Gambling’s a mug’s game. Probably why you clowns like it. House always wins – didn’t you know that? That’s why the smart move is owning a casino like we do.’
Angus curled his lip. ‘Business is still gambling, Miles. Stocks, shares. Property.’
Miles smiled. ‘In some respects. Then again, there’s a difference between calculated risk and pure chance. Incidentally, Angus, the gaming tables in Nassau don’t let you in if you’re under twenty-one, and I don’t think that fake ID you made at Prontoprint is going to get past the casino Gestapo.’
Angus looked embarrassed. ‘It might,’ he pouted.
‘Not when the name you put on it is Ron Jeremy.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘Well, he’s a porn star for a start. Incredibly well hung, which is more than can be said for you, if you believe the rumours Emily Reed was spreading round school.’
Angus glowered at Miles but didn’t say anything. They were all nervous of upsetting their patron. Miles was the Sun King, with everyone else circling round him like courtiers, and not even the twins, with their brashness and arrogance, dared confront him.
Miles walked over and flung an arm around Alex’s shoulder. ‘No, the only thing I’ll bet my shirt on is talent,’ he said, lighting a cigarette and
exhaling a smoke ring towards the lavender clouds. ‘It’s why me and Alex have been friends for so long, isn’t it, Al?’
Oscar’s face fell.
‘Looks like we’re about to dock,’ said Angus sulkily. ‘Think I’ll go and find my baseball cap.’
Alex felt a surge of triumph as he watched them go below deck.
‘Wankers,’ said Miles as he watched them go. ‘I don’t know why I invited them here. They do nothing but moan.’
‘I don’t think they like me being here either,’ said Alex.
‘Ah, they’re just jealous of our manly love.’ Miles grinned, punching Alex on the arm playfully. ‘Listen, Dad’s just had some two-man Jet Skis shipped in from Miami. Up for trying them later? Plus I have some charlie back at the house.’
‘Jet Skis and coke? Not at the same time, surely?’ He said it as a joke, but he suspected Miles was serious. Alex wanted to be a rock star, but if he was totally honest with himself, drugs scared him a bit. Brian Dunne from the Moss estate had started on cannabis in the fourth year at Ryles Park and was a proper junkie now, which was why Alex kept his vices to nicotine and booze.
‘Come on, Alex,’ said Miles. ‘Life on the edge. That’s how we like it, isn’t it?’
Alex smiled and shrugged. How could he refuse on the last day of the holiday? How could he refuse Miles Ashford anything? Miles had changed his life. He’d do anything for his friend. Anything at all.
3
‘Is there anything else you wish me to do, Miss Sasha?’