Broken City

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty One

The pavilion is even grander close up and set against the starlit sky; it has fifteen marble steps leading up to its floor and columns of marble stretch up into the sky with a vaulted marble ceiling. Its structure is oval and glittering chandeliers hang twenty foot long into the room bathing everything in a warm flattering light.

Jasmine and roses climb the arches and columns and beneath these bowers all around the outside edge are small round tables covered by pristine white cloths. The resulting splendour is hard to take in all at once and I find myself being lead, unresistingly by Ryder to a quiet corner, Jan is on his other arm.

“What do you think so far?” Ryder Andak asks as he pulls Jan’s chair out for her.

“Let’s just say you have an unfair edge,” answers Jan, depositing herself into the chair with a smooth swish of silk.

Ryder comes around the table to help me into my seat.

“And you, Deeta?” his voice has hardened imperceptibly and I see in his eyes a cold edge of steel.

“It’s beautiful,” I reply simply.

He moves round to take a seat, brushing against the jasmine slightly, the disturbed flowers scent is released and wafts gently across to me, it occurs to me that it’s too early for jasmine—unless they have some sort of heating system to nurture its tender blossoms.  Music is playing softly; a piano, a clarinet, three violins and a cello and several couples sway dreamily to their rhythm on the parquet flooring.

“You see the man dancing with the lady in the red dress?” asks Ryder.” That is my half brother Jeshua and his wife Devina, he is my father’s second son by Rebecca his second wife, and the girl in the dark pink dress with black hair is Hayley, my father’s only daughter by his third wife Nadia and the gentleman dancing with her is her husband Neil, but it’s Jennet that will be of the most interest to you, she’s the girl in the green dress: she’s Dec oldest sister.”

I had been enjoying Ryder’s informative commentary on the occupants of the room but at this I turn sharply my attention well and truly caught by the name of someone I have met.

“Who’s the young man she’s dancing with?” asks Jan.

“That is Dorian, his mother’s family were politicians and his father’s family were Monaco’s royal family,” replies Ryder.

“I bet they don’t let anyone forget it either,” laughs Jan.

“You’re quite right; they still use their titles,” the faintly sardonic note in his voice fades and he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s understandable I suppose.”

A young man in a white jacket comes and stands quietly at Ryder’s elbow.

“Hello Nick, what’s cooking?” Asks Ryder taking a slim pamphlet from his proffered hand and perusing its script.

“You’ll have to help me out girls; do you like vegetable’s and fish or are you meat eaters?”

Jan leans across the edge of the table her hand outstretched, the single ringlet trailing over her shoulder brushes Ryder’s sleeve…is it just me or does he seem to be a little warm?

“May I see?” she asks.

“Sure,” Ryder pulls away a little, an inscrutable look on his face but I don’t think Jan notices, she is already reading the gold edged leaflet a slight furrow between her brows.

“Do you need some help?” Ryder’s voice is smugly amused.

“No thanks,” Jan looks up a mocking light in her eyes. “Come on mate, what do you think—that you invented the French language or something?”