Page 77 of A Night with Damien Spur

‘Piss off,’ he mouthed.

She stood her ground.

Nicholas cleared his throat and gave his speech. ‘A little prob last night with my winning bid for the diamond ring,’ he said. His mouth was dry. ‘I… I… was tipsy and… all the excitement of the game… Anyway…’ He suppressed a cough, grabbed a glass of water and took a large gulp… ‘So I don’t want to dig into my funds at the mo. Markets are down and£75k makes a bit of a dent… Anyway, I wondered if you might like to buy another icon or two. Good price for a quick sale. Want to settle with the charity asap.’

‘I don’t want more icons, thank you. I bought your one at auction because Lala said it reminded her of her mother.’

‘Look, Boris, can’t you think of something I can do for you?’

‘Mmm, Nicholas, we don’t need to play. I know you are in difficult position. So, I have idea. Wanna be a mule?’

‘Was that a joke, Boris?’ Nicholas said.

‘Not at all. I want you to deliver an icon to a collector who lives in LA.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Clifford Stark.’

‘That doesn’t sound a problem.’

‘No problem for you, if you keep cool.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Just get through customs without a search.’

‘And what if I am searched?’

‘Just don’t get searched,’ Boris said.

‘Okay, I’ll do it.’ Nicholas paced the floor and gestured to Kate to pour him another glass of whisky.

‘When?’

‘Tomorrow night you will stay at the Landmark Hotel. My secretary will book it for you. The icons will be delivered toyour room in a suitcase. You will be given an envelope with instructions and money. Your flight will be booked for the day after. Please do not ring me again. I will contact you.’ Boris hung up.

Ashen-faced, Nicholas stood stock still, his mouth wide open, his trousers still round his ankles. He stared at his mobile.

‘What was that about?’ Kate said. ‘You look like one of those human statues in Covent Garden.’

‘I’m a fool. This is a big one, Kate. What have I done?’

‘What do you mean?’

Nicholas downed the whisky and slammed the glass on the table. ‘My dull bloody life has just become a melodrama.’

To be honest, despite the debacle with the ring, there was a part of Nicholas that was excited. Who knows what might happen? Perhaps he could start a side hustle; covert smuggling of valuable items all over the world.

Maybe the ring disaster had inadvertently given him a new lease of life. Not just a bit-player from Bournemouth, but one of the big boys. Bugger Horatio, stealing his Sophie. He’d show him. She’d be begging to come back to him.

The adrenalin rush made him dizzy.

Chapter 23

Damien ran his hand over his sleek stomach, admiring his six-pack. He was in good shape. Randy, his trainer, had pushed him to cut down on the alcohol and lower the carbs, which had increased his energy and cleared his head. He was looking forward to spending the evening with Elizabeth Maitland.

He arrived at seven thirty on the dot and rang the bell of the magnificent stucco-fronted Belgravia town house at the corner of Chester Square.

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