Free Never Tell by Claire Seeber Page B

shame.’
    ‘Do you ride? You could borrow one if you so desire.’
    ‘Thank you.’ I shuddered involuntarily. ‘But I don’t really.’ I would never ride again, I knew that much. ‘Do you?’
    A flicker of something indecipherable crossed his face. ‘No. Maya does, occasionally, but it seems infrequent now.’
    I had a sudden image of this man’s hand on my bare arm. It was incredibly warm in here; the drink was obviously going to my head. James finally wandered over to shake hands.
    ‘Great picture.’ My husband helped himself to a canapé from a tray, pointing at a Picasso next to an Emin. ‘Think I prefer his earlier stuff, though. Not sure about all those weird-shaped women, personally.’ He shoved the shiny caviar in his mouth inelegantly. ‘Bit spiky for me. I like a boob or two.’
    ‘James!’ I reproved softly, embarrassed.
    He rolled his eyes. ‘So what exactly brought you to our neck of the woods, Mr Kattan?’
    ‘This property came up for rental. I liked the countryside here. It is peaceful to me.’
    ‘It is beautiful, isn’t it?’ James agreed.
    I doubted James had noticed as much as a hedgerow since the day we left London. Very occasionally he ventured into the garden to kick a ball with Freddie, but he spent most of his time in the studio or rushing back to the city.
    ‘Also,’ Kattan stroked his beard lightly, ‘I have some interests in the area.’
    ‘Really?’ I was curious. ‘What kind of interests?’
    ‘My son, Ash, wishes to run for Parliament in the next election, Mrs Miller.’ Hadi Kattan caught my eye and held it. ‘He is very fond of the area. He was educated nearby. This party is for him.’
    Ash. The name was like a klaxon. The man from the garage, the man who dragged the girl back to the car.
    I glanced around uneasily.
    ‘Unfortunately he has been delayed. He’s travelling back from Dubai. He has only recently returned to Britain after a few years abroad.’
    ‘Why did he leave?’
    Hadi Kattan sighed again. ‘He became tired of people moving away from him on the underground trains, I believe.’
    ‘That kind of prejudice must be very hard to bear,’ I grimaced. For some reason, my internal alarm was ringing.
    ‘It is the world we live in now, it seems,’ Kattan said with dignity.
    ‘Can you tell me about your son’s political ambitions?’
    ‘I’m sure he will be happy to tell you himself, when he arrives.’
    I smiled. Thwarted. ‘So I believe you’re also a very important person indeed in one of the big banks.’ I took a sip of champagne, relieved to look away from his intense gaze. I noticed that no alcohol had passed his lips yet.
    ‘Briefly,’ he acquiesced graciously. ‘I was a director of World-Trident. But it was not for me. I do not particularly enjoy dancing to the corporate tune.’
    ‘A man after my own heart. Impressive, though, Mr Kattan.’ James raised an eyebrow. ‘One of the big players.’
    Kattan shrugged elegantly. ‘Hardly. And banks are not the place to be at the moment, I think, my friends, as we are currently learning, no? I got out at the right time. I prefer the art in my home to the numbers on the screen.’
    He gestured at the pictures; my eye was drawn to a diamond-encrusted skull in a glass case behind him.
    ‘Damien Hirst?’
    ‘Indeed. Are you a fan?’
    ‘Not really, I’m afraid.’ I went to take a better look. ‘He pretty much stands for everything asinine about the past decade. Clever bloke, though, I guess.’ I glanced at my husband. ‘Tapping into hedonistic greed the way he did.’
    James drained his champagne and winked at me. ‘Another bloke after my own heart.’
    As I straightened up, a silver Porsche hurtled up the drive and skidded to a halt in front of the house. I watched through the windows as a young black man flung himself out of the car and headed towards the house but he didn’t get very far before he was halted by a tall figure, hood up against the wind. Hand on his arm, he was