Ros carefully reversed into the saloon of the boat and gave her a hug. The unexpected contact made her feel emotional. ‘You did so well back there. Are you okay?’ she asked.

‘Yeah.’ Darla took a breath and thought things through. ‘I might not have gained anything other than the satisfaction of telling him he’s a wanker, but I’ve not lost anything either. I’m fine.’

‘What a weasel that Patrick is.’

‘He’s worse than a weasel. They’re actually quite cute unless you’re a chicken, then not so much.’

Ros was giving her an odd look.

‘Anyway, let’s crack on,’ Darla continued. ‘The sooner we get this cleaned the quicker we can have a glass of wine.’

Darla got out the cleaning products and explained what she wanted Ros to do, when there was that slight sway in the boat. Darla froze.

‘Hello again,’ said Patrick, appearing above them.

Chapter Thirty

Patrick peered into the saloon below. ‘This is pretty swanky. Isn’t it?’

‘Shit!’ said Darla, her thoughts in a scramble at the unexpected sight of him.

‘You’re trespassing,’ said Ros with authority.

‘This yours, is it?’ he asked.

‘No, but—’

‘No harm in me having a look around then,’ he said, coming down the steps. He sucked in air and it whistled through his teeth. ‘This is very nice. We’ll probably be able to buy something like this when—’

Ros began laughing. Patrick glared at her. ‘Who are you?’

‘This is my friend, Ros,’ said Darla, moving to stand closer to Ros. ‘And we’d both like you to leave.’

Patrick sat down and seemed to relish their astonished faces. ‘I wish I could but you see, I really need that money. Sort of a life-or-death thing.’

‘Yours I hope,’ said Ros.

‘Yeah, it is actually. Have you got any cash?’ He looked her up and down in her charity outfit. ‘Actually, you’re all right.’ He turned his attention back to Darla. ‘Babe, you don’t need to do anything. All I need is the bank card.’

‘There’s nothing in the joint account anyway.’

‘But there’s the overdraft.’

‘No, there’s not. I’ve had them reduce it each time I’ve paid money in, so I wasn’t tempted to overspend again.’ And in case Patrick came back and tried to do exactly what he was doing now.

‘You stupid cow, why did you do that?’ he snapped.

‘So you couldn’t turn up and do it all over again. You wanker,’ she added to even up the insults. Darla noticed Ros was texting so leaned slightly in front of her to block Patrick’s view.

Patrick no longer looked relaxed. He stood up and tried to pace but in the small space it was quite tricky and he had to keep turning abruptly every couple of steps.

‘There would be more space for you to walk around looking agitated up on the quay,’ said Ros.

Patrick rubbed his forehead. ‘Where’s your car?’ he asked Darla.

She shrugged. ‘I had to sell everything. Including my car,’ she lied.

‘Shitting hell.’ He patted his hands on his head, making Ros step back a fraction. ‘Come on, think,’ he said. He spun around to stare at Darla and Ros. ‘Where can I get my hands on money quickly?’

‘No idea,’ said Darla.

Ros was pouting.

‘What?’ said Patrick. ‘Have you got a suggestion?’

Ros very slowly shook her head. ‘No.’

Patrick paused and then he started to laugh. He splayed out his arms and banged his knuckle on the mast post in the centre of the saloon. ‘Shit, that hurt. How much is this worth? This boat? What’s it worth?’

‘No clue,’ said Darla. ‘Oh no, Patrick,’ she added as realisation dawned on her. ‘This is my job. I’ll get the sack.’ She plonked herself down on the luxury leather seating. ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’ll not let you steal this.’

‘You don’t have to go anywhere. Just give me the keys.’

‘No way.’

Patrick walked towards her with his palm outstretched. But something caught his eye and he reversed back. ‘What’s this then?’ he asked, picking up the boat keys. ‘Where do you start this baby up?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I spotted two big steering wheels up top, so probably up there,’ he said, looking pleased with himself.

‘You need to leave now before we start screaming and people come running,’ said Darla.

‘There wasn’t a soul about so scream away, and I’ll have your mobiles please.’

‘No,’ said Ros.

‘Give me your bloody phones,’ he snapped and Darla jumped. She’d not seen him like this before. He was an idiot for sure, but he wasn’t a nasty bastard, or at least that was what she’d thought. But then if he really was in danger, that sort of pressure did strange things to people.

‘Here,’ she said, taking Ros’s phone and handing both phones to him. ‘There’s no need to get nasty.’

‘You’re right. Just do what I say and it’ll all be good. Up on deck please,’ he said, ushering them up the steps.

‘Now where is the ignition?’ he said, partly to himself as he looked about. He found where the key went and was gleeful when the boat’s engine started.

‘What the hell does he think he’s doing?’ Darla whis-pered. She was furious.

‘He’s stealing the yacht,’ said Ros. ‘With us on it,’ she added.