‘You’d have had a few days stay in a very warm jail cell, dear. That’s all. It was very easy to prove your innocence.’Even though I ran.‘Unfortunately, news of such things brings out the sharks.’
‘What do you think they’re looking for, these journalists?’
‘Salaciousness, I expect. Someone to blame.’
‘You mean me?’ I feel suddenly sick. Terrified.
‘Don’t worry, darling. Things will blow over. You aren’t to blame.’
‘Then why do I feel so guilty?’ Still. In so many ways.
‘Guilt is in your DNA, Fin. Let it go. You married a rich man who you thought made his wealth honourably.Livedhonourably. It’s not your fault that neither of these things were true. My God, I’m so cross the coward killed himself!’ Her final words sound as though expelled through gritted teeth and followed by a noise drawn from the back of her throat.
‘Please don’t spit on the travertine.’
‘Why? Do I pay you to clean it?’
‘I might end up doing it yet,’ I say, adding a wry laugh.
‘Always the comedienne.’
‘I’m not laughing,’ I reply, even though I clearly am. ‘I can’t think why those journalists are looking for me, because seriously, funds are getting pretty thin.’
‘I have your jewellery,’ she adds. ‘I can courier it to you.’
‘No.’ We’ve already discussed this. I didn’t know that our driver, gardener, maid and cook hadn’t been paid for six months. ‘You need to do as I ask. Please.’ Pay them what’s owed, their bonuses, too. Settle their visa fines with the labour courts. Arrange flights back to their homes in Nepal and the Philippines, if that’s what they want. All this and I had no idea. What must they have thought watching me traipse in and out of the house with my designer shopping bags, climbing into myPorschewhile they worked unpaid? I want none of it—nothing. The trappings of my previous life are tainted.
‘I have someone working on their fines,’ she says wearily.
‘That’ll cost, too.’
‘He’s already on my payroll and that’s no concern of yours.’
‘Whatever,’ I say, not unkindly. ‘I appreciate your help.’ Again. Still. Always.
‘No. Enough. I will speak of it no more.’
‘Thank you. For everything.’
‘Stop. You are my friend and I’d now like to speak of other things.’
‘More interesting stuff? Great. How’s Eduard?’
‘Insatiable still,’ she replies in a sultry tone. ‘I’ve never known a man to last so long.’
‘No, me either.’ My response is a little more droll, because I don’t mean in the sack, though she’s told me of his stamina often enough. I’ve never known Soraya to entertain a man for so long, though this one is super-hot.Supermodel hot. Because he’s a model and he’s... also super-hot.
‘And speaking of other things, I have good news for you.’ She pauses dramatically. ‘A job interview!’
‘Soraya,’ I say in a warning tone.
‘Now, before you go getting all moralistic, itisonly an interview.’
‘An interview where?’ And knowing her, the interview will be purely for appearances sake. I know she means well, but I hate the huge amount of favours I’m racking up from friends.
‘London. It’s a job perfect for you. You did say you loved living in London, didn’t you?’
As she begins listing the company profile and their prestigious clientele, my mind starts to reel. I need a job—money—all of that. I know London having studied there, but am I ready to start again on my own?
