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actually invited—?’

      ‘Only in a vague sort of way. And there are one or two other contacts I’m working on—’

      She rattled off a list of names and I had to admit they were well-chosen. All of them useful, all people I’d feel easy with and could make money out of. Grace knew her stuff, which was how she got away with being a bossy-boots.

      I was beginning to feel almost relaxed about it when she said, ‘And of course Selena will be there.’

      ‘What do you mean, of course?’

      ‘Well, the others will be couples, so naturally—’

      I’ll spare you the rest. Enough to say that I made a ritual protest, but gave in when I realised how I’d been backed into a corner. There wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it without offending someone that it would be inconvenient to offend.

      I just wish that some of the financial journalists could have been there to see. According to them I am Master of the Game, he whose will is law. Minions go in fear and trembling of my lightest word.

      Hah!

      They should have seen ‘Bully Jack’ cave in to Grace, that’s all I can say.

      Before I knew it everyone had accepted the invitations I’d never given, including Selina and her parents.

      To protect myself, I issued a few invitations of my own. First there was Harry Oxton, who’d been trying to make an impression on Grace for a couple of years. He was a widower, a kindly man who put up with the way my sister used him when she needed an escort and forgot him at other times.

      Then there were the newlyweds, Charles and Jenny Stover. I’d been their best man six months ago. When I explained to them that I needed their help, and exactly what kind of help I needed, they laughed and said fine!

      Grace looked askance, though whether because Jenny was an old flame of mine or Charles was an old flame of Selina’s I wouldn’t like to say.

      But I told her I’d invited them now and it was too late to go back on it. She’s not the only one who can do bland innocence.

      But the one that really made her mad was Derek Lamming. His heart was set on Selina, and I think they’d have been married by now if Grace hadn’t stuck her oar in, trying to secure Selina for me.

      ‘You needn’t think I don’t know what you’re up to,’ Grace fumed to me.

      ‘I’m sure you do,’ I told her, grinning. ‘But I learned deviousness from you, so naturally I’m good at it.’

      ‘You do realise we don’t have room for all the extra people you’ve invited, don’t you?’

      ‘Then we’ll need a bigger yacht.’

      That was how we exchanged the modestly luxurious vessel that Grace had chartered for the much larger Hawk.

      What can I say about The Hawk? Think Onassis with knobs on. Other yachts had one swimming pool, The Hawk had two. It slept forty in over-the-top decadence.

      Every cabin was done in a different style—French Second Empire, Roman villa, Egyptian splendour, Renaissance—all of them with solid gold accessories.

      Since I was supposedly the big cheese of the outfit, I had a suite with a sunken bathroom, and a bed that could have slept ten.

      Grandpa Nick would have laughed himself to stitches.

      At the last minute Grace said worriedly, ‘You won’t do anything to offend Selina, will you?’

      ‘Grace, I will be the perfect gentleman with Selina,’ I vowed. ‘I won’t try to entice her into the moonlight, I won’t ogle her in a swimsuit, in fact I won’t even look at her in a swimsuit. I won’t try to kiss her, or hold hands with her. I won’t do one single thing that could compromise me into marriage with her. You can count on that.’

      ‘All right, be difficult if you have to be. You know what I mean. I don’t want to hear any more about this other woman—Cindy, or whatever her name is.’

      ‘I never told you her name, and I’m not telling you now.’

      ‘But you won’t invite her to come along with us, will you?’

      ‘No, I promise I’ll confine my meetings with her to fleeting assignations wherever we drop anchor.’

      Grace gave a scream, chiefly because she couldn’t decide if I was serious or not. I decided to leave it that way. ‘Cindy’ might be useful.

      I had no idea, then, just how useful.

      We set off from Southampton and went across to Cherbourg on the first day, then across the Bay of Biscay and down the coast of Portugal to the Mediterranean.

      We had a good time, with plenty of dinner and dancing, card-playing, wheeling and dealing—and flirting. I solved that problem by flirting madly with almost every woman aboard. Especially Jenny.

      She was safe. I could romance her without fear of being hog-tied. But then Charles got a bit tense—actually said I was overdoing it. He responded by dancing smoochily with Selina for a whole evening. Then it was Jenny’s turn to get tense.

      They mended matters by vanishing into their cabin for three days, and emerging wreathed in smiles.

      That was how I wanted to look when I found ‘her’. It wasn’t going to happen with Selina. I was beginning to wonder if it would happen with anyone.

      In Gibraltar Charles and I managed to jump ship for a few hours, returning with the dawn. He spread tipsy hints about a lady I was supposed to have met ashore, then clapped his hand over his mouth as if realising that he’d said too much.

      Grace gave me a look that would have shrivelled a lesser man.

      We pulled the same stunt in Naples and Venice. Then it was time to start back down the Adriatic coast, with Grace snapping at me and demanding to know just how stupid I thought she was.

      ‘If I thought you were stupid I’d be less scared,’ I told her truthfully.

      ‘Does this young woman really exist?’ she demanded.

       ‘My lips are sealed,’ I replied solemnly.

      ‘Then I think it’s time we met her.’

      ‘Is that the royal “we”?’

      ‘No, it includes Selina, since you’re playing fast and loose with the poor girl’s feelings.’

      ‘Grace, for the last time, I will not marry Selina. Is that understood?’

      ‘We were talking about your lady-friend. Do tell me when you mean to produce her. Perhaps she’ll be at the next port. You can bring her on board and we’ll all have such a jolly time together.’

      A master stroke. Game, set and match to Grace.

      I had to produce a girl soon.

      And Grace knew that I had nobody to produce.

      Palermo, Naples, Genoa: all the way up the coast I ducked and dived, with Grace asking, with unbearable sweetness, when she would have the pleasure of meeting my ‘friend’.

      When we anchored at Monte Carlo there were still several days left to go, which filled me with gloom. I was wondering how I could arrange an urgent call home and high-tail it out of there.

      The day after we arrived I received an unexpected gift. It was a set of solid gold diamond-studded cufflinks, and they came from a man called Hugh Vanner, on The Silverado, anchored just next door.

      I couldn’t wait to get rid of them. I’d vaguely heard of Vanner. He was the kind of shifty character who hung around on the fringe of the legitimate business world, picking up what he could get. His methods were those of a slimeball. I sent the cufflinks back with a note saying that I didn’t accept gifts from strange men.

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