He lets go of her arm, moving off. ‘Maybe I’ll buy myself a watch!’ he says, and Pauline breathes out, relieved. He’s already forgotten about her and the ostentatious butterfly necklace. John waves at a staff member. ‘That one doesn’t have a price.’ He points to something within the glass case. ‘How much is it?’
The man smoothly removes the watch with gloves, placing it tenderly on the counter top. ‘This is the H. Moser & Cie. red gold and sapphire streamliner tourbillon watch,’ he says in an even voice. ‘Its case is eighteen karat rose gold, with sixty baguette-cut coloured sapphires. It features a circular dial and sapphire glass. It has a seventy-two-hour power reserve and represents exquisite craftsmanship—’
‘Yes, yes,’ John says a touch impatiently. ‘It’s very nice, I’ll take it. Bag it up for me. How much do you want for it?’
The man nods lightly and begins the process of carefully packaging up the gaudy thing. ‘It’s one-five-eight.’
When John nods and says, ‘Oh, I thought it’d be more,’ the staff member pauses and adds, ‘Thousand. One hundred and fifty-eight thousand pounds.’
John pales, swallowing hard. He glances anxiously at the audience around him. They close in, snapping endless shots, awaiting a reaction.
‘Well,’ John swallows again. ‘That is . . . completely fine, of course. That’s what I expected. That’s about how much . . . I assumed it would be. And that is fine, because I’ve always been a watch man, and I’ve always wanted a . . .’ – he searches for the brand name – ‘a H . . . a HMV watch. So yes, how wonderful. Wrap it up, my good man!’
Seb leans closer for a proper look. ‘Wow!’ he says. ‘I like all the pretty pinks and reds. So cool, Dad, so modern of you that you’re choosing a women’s watch for yourself.’
John peers closer at the colourful watch, his face flaming red as he realises. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ he stutters, trying and failing to hide his irritation. ‘This is obviously –obviously– for . . .’ – he turns, waving towards Tilly – ‘my beautiful daughter. I’m buying her this . . . HMV watch for’ – more swallowing – ‘one hundred and fifty-eight thousand pounds.’ He enunciates each number.
Tilly gasps, throwing herself at her dad for a hug. ‘Oh my God,thank you!’ she squeals. ‘Thank you so much! I can’t believe it!’
The staff member hovers with the bag. ‘And how will you be paying today, sir?’
John’s face falls. ‘Oh, I hadn’t thought. All my cards . . .’ He glances at his emotional daughter and she grimaces.
‘Sorry, Dad, we cut up all your cards when we thought you were . . .’ – she swallows – ‘gone. We had everything transferred into Mum’s name.’ John, Tilly and Seb all turn to look over at Pauline, who is hovering as far back as she’s able. Behind the row of cameras.
‘I’ve got a card,’ she confirms faintly. ‘I’ve got it.’ She reaches into her handbag and John stalks over, hand out.
‘Give it to me,’ he half-snarls, before remembering all the eyes on him. She hands it over and his eyes travel across the card – across her name printed along the bottom. The revulsion is clear.
‘We’ll have to get this taken care of,’ he mutters furiously. It’s clear he doesn’t mean a replacement card for himself. He means getting rid of hers.
John stalks back over to the counter where he indiscreetly arranges payment with the smooth-faced staff member. Pauline can see the way he gives himself a shake, and as he turns to present the gleaming box to his daughter, he’s back to being Charming John, smiling winningly for the cameras.
‘Man back from the dead spends his lottery winnings!’ he shouts to them, offering up his idea of a headline. He grins, looking inspired. ‘We should go get some cash out. I’ll throw it up in the air, and you lot can take pictures of us jumping around in it.’ He laughs. ‘I’m doing your job for you!’ Pauline catches a couple of the photographers exchanging looks.
‘I think we’ve got what we need now, John,’ one of them says, adding nicely, ‘We’ll get going. Thanks.’
John pouts. ‘This is the story of the decade.’ He points frantically over at Pauline. ‘Don’t you want to get a few quotes from her? From the wife? About how thrilled she is to have me back?’
Pauline’s face flushes a deep red. The truth is, she would love to tell the whole worldexactlyhow thrilled she is to have him back, but now’s not really the time. She glances at Tilly who’s beaming from ear to ear as she admires her expensive new watch.
Now’s definitely not the time.
A couple of the paps are looking at her earnestly. ‘Actually, yeah!’ one of them says eagerly. ‘We would love a few lines from you, Paula! How did it feel to get the call that your husband wasn’t really dead?’
She stares down, her throat closing up. John jogs over to her side. ‘Aw, my gal’s a bit camera shy,’ he tells them. ‘But you can quote her as saying she’s gassed to have me back. It’s a bloody miracle and she’s been bursting with happiness every minute of the day. It’s a dream come true, eh, Paula?’
‘It’s Pauline,’ she whispers, something bubbling up inside her.
‘Eh? What’s that?’ he says, then more firmly, ‘Don’t get excited now.’
The bubbling stops.
‘Nothing.’
‘Right, good. Let’s go spend some more money!’ John shouts, leading the way across the marble floor. ‘After everything I’ve been through and had to do, I reckon I deserve to buy something huge and extravagant for myself!’
Pauline nods, watching him go. After everything John’s done, he definitely deserves something huge.
