Chapter38Bob’s
Thursday, 5 December
In the morning, I meet Tor in Bob’s Café on the Broadway. I can’t wait any longer to hear more about the blackmailing, but I’m not in the best of moods. Tor and I manage to get a reasonably private booth (a table for four, which causes some distress in the café) and we’re soon enduring glasses of healthy green juice.
We quickly catch up about Cait (sad face), and I tell Tor about Stephen and Madeleine. Tor is both sympathetic and envious.
‘I don’t think he’s over his father’s death, to be perfectly honest, and this has hit him hard,’ I say.
‘I would love to lose just one of my mothers! But seriously, is there anything I can do to help?’ says Tor, sipping her green juice.
‘No, we’re just waiting. She’s responsive, thank goodness.’
‘What a terrible time we’re all having,’ says Tor.
‘So, back to blackmail...’ I say, my spider senses tingling all over.
‘Well, a couple of weeks ago, we were at Zac’s apartment in Mayfair. The sex was great but even I felt it was a little more per-formative than usual. I’m sure you don’t want the saucy details.’
‘Mirrors?’
‘Exactly. I know men like the more visual stuff, so I didn’t think about it at the time, I was just on a wave of adoration. I thought – this must be how the younger generation does it these days. Then, I found out a week ago that he had secretly filmed the whole thing.’
‘No!’ I say, in mock outrage, although I’m impressed with the young man’s industry.
‘He’d set up cameras in advance and he’d been manipulating the whole scene to get good shots,’ says Tor, glancing around to check no one is listening in.
‘How did you find out?’
‘He showed it to me one evening, telling me he’d made it in secret as a sexy gift for me. I was really angry. I mean, it’s a bloody liberty. Who wants to be filmed like that? I’m not twenty-one. He just laughed and said it’d spice up our relationship. Then he kissed me, one thing led to another and I forgave him.’
‘So he’s not blackmailing you?’
‘Zac? No, Zac’s in love with me.’
‘Then who?’
‘I asked him to delete the film, and he said he’d do it, and then he went away on business for a few days. And just after he got back, I got an urgent call. I rushed around and he showed me his computer screen. There was this huge ransomware notice in red and black saying, “Your accounts have been encrypted and downloaded. Your private content will be shared with your contacts unless you deposit £50,000 into the following Bitcoin account within two weeks.”’
‘Christ, Tor. When was this?’
‘Ten days ago. And now I’ve only got a few more days to deposit the money or I’m bloody ruined.’ Tor buries her head in her hands.
‘How do you know it’s genuine? I mean, there are scams like this everywhere.’
‘I thought that, too, but some of his photographs were sent to all his contacts. I received them, too, so we know they’ve got access.’ Tor is getting more and more distressed, and her face seems to be tiring from displaying such a range of expression.
‘So, you’re cheating on Lawrence with a toy boy who made a sex tape which is now in the hands of a blackmailer who wants fifty grand from you?’ I want to ask if she’d not read the code of conduct for Tory wives, which would probably frown on at least two of these actions.
‘It’s not cheating,’ she says, angrily. ‘Lawrence is seeing someone, too. It’s just... how we are.’
‘Are you going to pay?’
‘What else can I do? Imagine the shame if these get out there. And Law’s position will be untenable.’
‘I can only imagine the horror,’ I say, wanting to write the headlines myself.
‘I’m so furious with Zac. He’s put me in an impossible position.’
