Teddy continues, ‘Audrey’s on the phone with the groomer. They want to wash her but apparently Paula the Dog doesn’t like that. Audrey wants her dry-cleaned in some way. Dry-cleaned in a way that also won’t go near her sensitive nipples. It’s quite an involved process. I’m not sure how they’ve managed before now.’
‘Oh, I wondered where Paula the Dog was today,’ Paula the Human says. ‘I thought perhaps even your eight hundred million wasn’t enough to persuade Gucci to allow dog hair on the premises.’ She waves around at the luxury store they’ve been ransacking for the past forty minutes. The store is empty of customers, bar them – just like the car showroomlast week – and Paula wonders if this is what money really buys you: an escape from other people.
Audrey ends her call as Teddy leads the group over to the shoe area.
‘Here we are, Mrs Fletcher.’ A staff member trails behind them. She holds up a pair of shiny burgundy leather boots, presenting them like they are a fine jewel. They look to Paula more like something you’d wear to stables for horse riding. ‘Size nine and a half.’
‘It’sMs,’ Teddy says icily, pointing her sunglasses at the woman. ‘Not Mrs. Yuck. And no need to shout my shoe size to the whole world.’
Given it’s only the five of them there, including the disinterested sales assistant, this seems like an overstatement, but Paula can’t help sneaking a look down at Teddy’s feet. She’s been so caught up with the woman’s lustrous hair and expensive clothes, she’d never noticed the size of her feet. They are, admittedly, quite large. But they suit her.
Teddy accepts the boots, examining them close up, then taking a seat to try them on. ‘I’m going to have to call my wealth management team at this rate,’ she guffaws, flicking that luscious hair off her shoulder. ‘I’ve spent so much today, they’ll be having a meltdown.’ She sighs happily, pulling up the zip with long, orange nails. ‘But what’s the point of winning the lottery if you don’t then spend it in the most ridiculous way possible?’
‘Are they expensive?’ Paula asks, then looks fearfully at the staff member. Is it considered gauche or embarrassing to mention money in a place like this? The girl doesn’t visibly react, but Paula’s pretty sure she senses a disapproving energy.
‘Of course they’re expensive!’ Teddy says. ‘One thousand, seven hundred and fifty pounds.’ When Paula’s eyes widen she quickly adds, ‘But they’re cheaper than most things I’ve bought today. They really shouldn’t let me loose on Old Bond Street. God, Ilovebeing stupidly rich.’
She pulls a dark-coloured credit card out of her purse and hands it to the young woman. The assistant practically bows as she takes it and Paula catches a glimpse of the name on the credit card. Tina Edwina Fletcher.
‘I keep forgetting Teddy’s not your real name,’ Paula says.
‘Tina. Teddy for short.’
Paula frowns. ‘But Teddy’s not shorter than Tina.’
Teddy laughs at this. ‘You got me. OK, the truth is, I spent a lot of years working in a law office surrounded by a lot of moron men failing upwards in every direction. And having a guy’s name on my email address sure helped me out over the years. You wouldn’t believe how many people assumedTinawas a receptionist andTeddywas the boss.’
‘Youworked in a law office?’ Paula can’t help giving Teddy another once-over. The huge earrings, the short skirts, the big, shiny hair . . . they don’t exactly scream white-collar professional. ‘Like . . . as alawyer?’ She suddenly remembers Teddy at that house viewing, quoting some obscure made-up legalese at the estate agent.
Teddy clocks the tone. ‘I hope you’re not making assumptions about me, Paula? It took me a lot longer than it should’ve to prove myself, thanks to my tits, but by the time I left, I was one of my firm’s most in-demand lawyers. I had all the biggest accounts and the highest billables. They begged me not to go.’
Paula blushes a dark red. She feels terrible because of course she made assumptions. What did she think of Teddy after that first meeting in her kitchen? A WAG, that’s what she internally called her. It’s becoming very clear that Teddy is so much more than that. She is dry, funny and – clearly – incredibly smart.
‘Sorry,’ she mutters and Teddy laughs.
‘Forget it, babe. We all make snap judgements. I quite like them actually, because then I get to prove everyone wrong. I like other people being wrong.’ She pauses, then continues, ‘The truth is, I didn’t wear any of this stuff in the office.’ She waves at herself. ‘I forced myself into a little grey, pantsuit box, the box they wanted me to fit into. I thought pretending to be one of them – pretending to belikethem – was the only option I had. And maybe it was. But I can’t tell you how liberating it is to have this money. To be able to be whoever I want to be after all this time. To spend like an absolute beast whenever I want.’
Paula smiles at this. At the idea of money letting this woman be free to be whoever she wants. Goodness, it even let her be a woman again. Paula feels like she understands Teddy a little more now.
As they leave the shop, Audrey is back on the phone, debating Paula the Dog’s diva demands. Paula looks around at her friends, feeling abuzz with dopamine from all the spending. She can’t believe how much she’s bought today. She got herself a beautiful new camel-coloured trench coat, two new dresses, one long and one something Teddy called midi, three pairs of trousers, a new blouse, some T-shirts that Ivy liked, and – maybe most excitingly – a new pair of trainers to replace her Clarks plimsolls. Honestly, her shopping haul list feels like a designerHungry Caterpillar.
Oh, and because Tilly mentioned it last week, they also popped into John Lewis so she could pick up a new shower curtain and bath mat.
She feels unleashed! And she didn’t even buy as much as Teddy or Audrey, who seemed to be competing to spend the most money in one outing.
And yet, none of the group is weighed down with bags because the staff arranged to have it all delivered directly to each of them at home.
As they head down the beautifully maintained, pedestrianised streets of Old Bond Street, Ivy is almost mown down by a man and woman walking past at speed. The man hisses furiously at the woman with him, grabbing her, his grip white on her arm. ‘You’re humiliating me,’ he says to her in a low voice as she stares at the ground, her face pale.
It happens in just a few seconds and then they’re gone, but the group dynamic shifts around Paula. Both Teddy and Audrey have encircled Ivy, who is visibly trembling, her young face contorted with fear. Teddy’s hands are shaking too, but Paula can see that it is with rage, not fear. Audrey pulls Ivy close, murmuring kind, reassuring words.
After a moment, Paula realises she is holding her breath. She releases it slowly, her heart pounding.
‘Asshole,’ Teddy says a minute later, staring off after the couple. Then she repeats the word three more times. Audrey moves Ivy with her across the road, walking like they’re in a three-legged race. They make it to a black bench and all sit in a line, all four of them holding hands.
It takes a minute, but Ivy at last straightens up, looking at Audrey. ‘I’ve been attending that support group you suggested.’ She nods at the older woman, speaking in thatquiet, soft voice of hers. ‘For women like me. Women who’ve been through . . . domestic abuse. We meet twice a week and all we do is sit around talking about what we’ve . . .’ She swallows. ‘The stories, the awful, bloody, brutal stories . . . they really get under your skin, you know?’ She blinks around at the others and Paula’s reminded again that Ivy is only twenty-seven and she’s already been through so much. Ivy continues, ‘I think about it constantly. I dream about the women in the group. Sometimes I can’t remember what really happened to me with my husband, and what happened to Christina or Kuba or Ayesha or Megan.’ She takes a ragged breath. ‘I feel so helpless all the time. Most of them are still in those relationships as well. Still getting beaten up most nights, still getting abused, and they can’t see a way out.’ She inhales deeply. ‘I want to help them so badly.’
The group lets the words settle over them in silence, taking it in. People wander past, chatting about their lives, swinging shopping bags, pulling coats tighter around them as the breeze picks up.
