Twice Upon a Time (13 page)

The death of their father five years ago had thrown the nation into mourning. Queen Sofia had been stoic in public, but behind closed doors, Gus had seen her loss. Whenever her mask slipped, the pain of losing her beloved husband was etched on her face.

She was nearly sixty, and privately she had always said she would hand over the throne to Gus when she was sixty-five. Gus had to be prepared in every way to take over the role by then.

The queen considered Gus’s suggestion a little longer. ‘Much as I’m sure you’re right, I feel we owe it to Ludo to prove himself worthy of his title.’

Gus went to respond, to try to convince his mother, but she gave him a steely look.

‘He deserves one last chance. But if he puts a foot out of line, we’ll do exactly as you suggest.’ She turned and gestured to the footman in the corner to bring tea, signalling that the conversation was over.

14

Cinda and Jonas were eating breakfast by the pool. Cinda was trying not to inhale the entire plate of crepes and bacon. She helped herself to maple syrup as Jonas tucked into scrambled eggs and roasted Roma tomatoes.

‘Grab your passports,’ Ludo said as he joined them with his own overflowing plate.

‘Our passports? Why?’ Cinda looked over at Ludo.

It had been a week since Gus had left them. Perhaps he’d finally given up on trying to make Ludo as boring as he was. Or perhaps he really was embarrassed about hitting Ludo like that.

Life with Ludo was almost too much fun. Some days he drove them around the island in one of his sports cars, often ignoring the road rules and causing Cinda to scream with fear and excitement.

He’d taken her and Jonas hot-air ballooning over the nearby national park to see the flamingos and admire the pink beaches of Porto Giunco at dawn.

Every day they did something new and fun. It was amazing, but Cinda was starting to wish for a day where she might be able to get a painting started – or even finished.

Jonas didn’t bat an eye at Ludo’s request, looking calmly up from his eggs. ‘And what clothing will be required?’

Ludo smiled. ‘Just your swimsuits and something dressy enough for a bar.’

Jonas smiled. ‘We speak the same language.’

Cinda sighed after Ludo went back inside to get more coffee.

‘Don’t you want to go to the ball, Cinderella?’

‘Honestly, I’m a bit tired today,’ she said, not admitting she had been awake most of the night, worrying about her mother and the chinless Kevin from New Zealand.

She didn’t know why she fretted; it wasn’t as though her mum was worrying about
her
. But still, it was in her nature to worry about Allegra. As she sipped her juice she tried to talk herself out of stressing. Why the hell was she worrying about her own grown-up mother, who was more than able to make her own decisions?

Probably Allegra was having a wonderful time, so why shouldn’t Cinda?

Ludo refused to tell them where they were going until they landed and the plane doors opened. Two men boarded the jet.

‘Welcome to Spain,’ one of them said, as the other checked passports.

‘Spain?’ repeated Cinda, looking at Jonas, who made an excited face back at her.

‘Ibiza, to be precise,’ said Ludo.

‘No way!’ squealed Jonas, who started dancing in the aisle. ‘I beetha so happy to beetha here,’ he said in a bad accent that sounded more pirate than Spanish.

‘Wow, this is amazing,’ Cinda said, taking Ludo by the hand and pulling him to face her. ‘You are too generous. Really, it’s crazy.’

‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ Ludo said, laughing away her words.

She leant forward and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thank you, Ludo.’

‘Yes, thank you, Ludo,’ said Jonas, coming over and kissing Ludo on the other cheek at the same time.

Ludo smiled at them both, clearly delighted at their reaction.

Cinda was determined to stop thinking about her mother and instead have a good time. Flying to Ibiza on a private jet was unlikely to be a regular happening in her life.

Ludo pulled Cinda into a warm hug and kissed her, not minding that the airport officials were still on the plane.

After their passports were stamped they walked down the steps and onto the tarmac, where a driver in a Mercedes SUV was waiting. The goon squad hopped into the car behind them.

‘We’ll go and have lunch at my favourite private club, and then at mid-afternoon, the dancing by the pool starts,’ Ludo said as the car pulled out of the airport. ‘We’ll meet a few friends of mine and have some fun.’

Cinda rolled down the window to breathe in the warm Spanish air. She felt nervous about meeting Ludo’s friends now that she was sort of seeing him. If they were anything like his brother, then things might not go too well.

They drove along the edge of the island, the blue sea glittering on the horizon, and past a few sunburnt travellers wandering along the side of the road.

‘It’s so pretty,’ sighed Cinda as they passed a gorgeous beach, her chin on the window frame.

‘But not as pretty as Sardinia.’

‘No, not like Sardinia,’ she said with a placating smile. Ludo loved his country so much. She wondered why she didn’t feel the same way about Australia. She liked Australia, of course she did, but not in the way Ludo adored Sardinia. Ludo’s passion for his homeland could get a little tiresome after a while. Anytime she mentioned anywhere in the world, Ludo would somehow bring it back to Sardinia. Nowhere else ever quite compared.

‘But Ibiza is the most fun for clubbing,’ he admitted.

‘Didn’t Gus play some gigs here?’ she asked, remembering something Ludo had said by the pool that day they got stoned.

‘Yes, and he was very popular. Until Perrette told him it was déclassé and dobbed him in to Mamma. Then he was forced to go to South America as punishment, where he had to hold sloths and listen to eco-warriors.’ Ludo chuckled.

‘I don’t understand,’ said Cinda. ‘Why South America?’

‘It’s Mamma’s way of punishing us,’ he said. ‘When we mess up, she sends us on a trip to remind us of our duties and keep us away from our loved ones until we promise not to mess up again.’

‘What the hell is déclassé?’ asked Jonas, tearing his eyes off the fabulous view and looking at Ludo.

‘Something that is below our perceived class,’ said Ludo with a roll of his eyes. ‘Even though no-one really gives a crap about that stuff anymore, except for Perrette and Mamma.’

‘Why does Gus listen to them?’ asked Cinda with a frown.

Ludo paused. ‘Perrette’s very . . . what’s the word?’ he paused. ‘. . . manipulative.’

Cinda looked at Jonas, who made a face and laughed.

‘In our country, being sent on a trip is considered a luxury.’

‘I’ve been sent on six overseas trips. Gus has only been sent on that one,’ said Ludo darkly. ‘The other ones he chose to go on, because he is the perfect son.’

‘He’s not so perfect,’ Cinda said. ‘He’s actually very boring. Unlike you.’ She leant over and kissed his cheek and Ludo smiled, his good mood restored.

The car stopped in front of an unassuming single-story building. There was a row of palm trees out the front and a sign that read
Blue Marlin.
People were queuing up in a line along the front path.

The goon squad got out of their car and nodded at the driver before opening the car doors.

Ludo stepped out first, causing many of the faces in the line to turn, clearly wanting to see who had the security retinue. Cinda stepped out, painfully aware that her simple cotton dress was no match for the sparkly chiffon and high heels that she saw in the line.

Jonas stepped out of the car with more confidence than Cinda felt, and they followed Ludo to the front of the line as the doors opened for them.

They were greeted by a handsome guy in a pair of white linen shorts and nothing else.

Jonas squeezed Cinda’s shoulder. ‘Are we in heaven?’ he whispered, as the guy introduced himself as Alberto and told them he would be their personal host.

They walked through a foyer area and then through another set of doors, where Cinda gasped.

A huge pool was lined with white sunlounges. Beautiful people were draped on the lounges, sipping decadent-looking drinks.

Alberto led them through the crowds and past the pool, where they climbed some steps. Another man in white linen shorts unhooked the red rope sectioning off what was obviously the VIP area.

Before them was another pool, even more beautiful than the main one, and surrounded by oversized sunlounges that would accommodate at least six people each. Some were already taken by even more beautiful people than below. The empty lounges had rolled-up white towels neatly placed at the end, just waiting for perfect people to occupy them.

Alberto gestured to a discreet corner lounge, the only one decorated with blue-and-white cushions.

‘Can I get you a drink?’ he asked them. ‘Some lunch, perhaps?’

Ludo spoke in swift Spanish and Alberto nodded and disappeared. Cinda sat on the edge of the sunlounge, aware everyone’s eyes were on them, even if they were watching them discreetly.

‘You speak Spanish?’ asked Cinda, impressed.

‘Yes. And French. Obviously Italian and English. Oh, and a smattering of German.’ Ludo spoke without a trace of arrogance.

‘Yowza,’ said Cinda, thinking of her remedial Italian.

‘I ordered us some tapas, some drinks, you know,’ Ludo said, as he kicked off his boat shoes and crawled up on the cushions. He gestured to Cinda to join him but she felt awkward, having to crawl across the huge lounge. Instead she stood up and headed over to admire the view.

She could see that the club stretched down towards the white sand of the beach, where more white sunlounges, covered by umbrellas, lay waiting for bodies.

The sound of chill beats swept over the club and Cinda looked up as Alberto pressed a drink into her hand.

‘What’s this?’ she asked.

‘A fruit punch,’ he said. ‘With vodka.’

‘Thank you,’ said Cinda, taking a small sip.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Jonas muttered as he came and stood beside her. ‘I think I’m gonna die with all the eye candy around here.’

Cinda turned around and saw Ludo talking to a blonde girl in a white bikini, which glowed against her perfect tanned skin.
She
seems not to have any concerns about making the crawl across the
lounge
, thought Cinda. She felt a stab of jealousy.

‘Who’s that?’ she asked Jonas.

‘Petra, from Slovakia,’ said Jonas with an eyebrow raised.

‘Naturally,’ said Cinda, and she took a big gulp of her drink.

‘I’m pretty sure I saw Leo DiCaprio before, with a Victoria’s Secret model.’

‘Naturally,’ said Cinda, drinking more of her fruit punch.

‘Is that all you can say?’ laughed Jonas.

‘It seems the most natural thing to say in an unnatural world,’ she shrugged.

‘Cinda, come and meet my friends!’ Ludo called, and she drained the drink and headed back over to Ludo, where a guy in pink shorts was sitting at the end of the lounge, smoking a cigarette and talking into a phone in what sounded like Russian. Or maybe Arabic; Cinda wasn’t sure.

‘This is Petra, and this is Omar,’ Ludo said, waving his arm at the newcomers. Petra smiled and Omar gestured at her while still talking.

Cinda smiled. ‘Hi,’ she said, realising how lame she sounded.

‘I’m Cinda.’

‘Cinda is from Australia,’ said Ludo.

‘Oh cool! I was partying with the Hemsworth brothers just last week,’ said Petra.

‘Oh, me too,’ said Jonas cheekily.

‘Aren’t they the best?’ gushed Petra, completely missing the sarcasm.

‘The best,’ agreed Jonas as he crawled up next to Petra.

Why can everyone make that crawl but me?
Cinda wondered.

The food arrived and Cinda, relieved at having something to do, sat on the edge of the sunlounge and started to pick at the delicious tapas.

Jonas and Ludo also helped themselves, but Petra refused everything but two olives, which she rolled around her mouth slowly like she was making love to them. Or like they were all she was going to eat that day, which was more likely.

Cinda was helping herself to some fried potatoes and chorizo when she dripped some of the rich tomato sauce on her white cotton dress.