Naked in Knightsbridge (13 page)

*

Jools moped about the basement squat, feeling restless. She picked up the phone to call Mel, then put it down again. Mel might be living a lie, but Jools’ truth wasn’t exactly worth boasting about. Okay, Skuttle was entertaining and mysterious, but he wasn’t interested in her, so pining after him was pointless and pathetic. And living down a chute at a bus garage wasn’t adult behaviour either, was it?

Maybe some hunting and gathering would lift her spirits.

Scooting out of the basement and up the chute, she launched herself into surprisingly bright sunshine.

The skip behind the bread shop around the corner was loaded with goodies that morning and Jools took her time seeking out a nice loaf. Digging about, she came across an olive ciabatta, a rare find. Sniffing it and poking her finger inside to make sure it was only from yesterday, she then took a big bite out of the top.

Accidentally inhaling some of the flour that was heavily sprinkled on the surface, she started coughing uncontrollably.

God, she needed some water. She was just about to drink from a kerb-side tap when she turned and found herself face-to-face with a tall man in dark shades and a well-tailored grey suit.

‘
Ah!’ Jools shrieked in surprise, inhaling even more flour and coughing harder.

Rodney Wetherspone took a couple of steps backwards, holding up his arms in surrender.

‘
It’s me, Rodney, remember? From the miSell auction? Terribly sorry to startle you.’

Jools swallowed a couple of times. ’It’s, um, okay. How did you find me?’

‘
Well, the café we met in is two doors down from here.’ Rodney took in Jools’ appearance. ’I’m sorry, but may I ask, what on earth are you doing? Had I known you were so hungry, I’d have asked you to accompany me to dinner.’

‘
That’s um, nice of you.’ Jools was horrified. What a sight she must look. ’You’re probably relieved that miSell didn’t let you spend all that money on me!’

Taking her arm, Rodney led her towards the street. ‘On the contrary, my dear, I am truly delighted to have found you.’

‘
Really?’

Maybe she had got it all wrong. Maybe Rodney, not Niles, was the nutjob.

Rodney turned to face her. ‘Would you be prepared to go through with the original deal, for the top bid of £76,000?’

For once rendered speechless, Jools opened and shut her mouth like a fish heading for a plughole.

‘
The plan would be to marry, and then live separate lives. Of course, I would fund a reasonable lifestyle, including food and accommodation.’

Jools was still doing a good impression of a breathless marine creature.

‘
Tell me, do you like Percys?’

The most expensive department store in London? Silly question. She found her voice. ‘I, ah, I guess. Who doesn’t?’

‘
Let’s see.’ Rodney glanced at his watch. ‘Why don’t we take you there and have your hair and nails and er, bits and pieces done. Maybe a few new clothes? Then you can come home with me – the guest room of course – and tomorrow morning the instant the bank opens I’ll deposit the lump sum in your chequing account. What do you say?’

Jools opened her mouth to scream ‘YES!’ but all she managed was another feeble cough. So, she nodded vigorously.

‘
Well, gather your things, and let’s get going. Do you have to give notice at your flat?’

Jools couldn‘t quite work up the courage to tell him she was a homeless squatter. ‘Why don’t you wait in your car and I will be just, ah, just a second.’

Back in the basement she looked around. As usual, Skuttle was absent, which was probably a good thing. Jools might cry if she had to say goodbye to him right now. There wasn’t much of her current life she needed or wanted, but there was the rock shaped like a poodle that Skuttle had given her on the one-week anniversary of her homelessness.

She went to unplug the laptop, then had second thoughts. What would Skuttle use if he wanted to do a little online surfing? Hobos had needs, too. Besides, she could use it to leave a note for him. She opened the word processor and began typing, not noticing the tears streaking down her flour-covered cheeks.

Dearest Skuttle,

A friend has offered to let me stay with him.

He wants me to leave right now, so we can’t say a proper goodbye. I really appreciate all you have done for me and I promise I will drop by soon and give you a special gift to say a proper thanks for your kindness.

Loads and loads of love, Jools

PS: Sorry for trying to snog you.

PPS: But I don’t regret it.

With a final look at the tidy, cosy little basement squat, Jools wiped her cheeks and climbed up the chute towards Rodney and her new life as a wealthy politician’s wife.

Halfway up, she encountered a familiar boot. She let herself drop back into the dark little room. Skuttle dropped down after her.

‘
Jools?’ He eyed her bags.

Feeling more than a little guilty for running out on him, Jools tried to explain. ‘This bloke offered me a home. And money. A chance to start again. Please understand. I’m not cut out for homelessness. I’m not exactly a natural, am I?’

‘
Who is? Listen, Jools, there‘s something I should tell you –’

But a loud, insistent car horn interrupted him. Rodney. God, the last thing Jools needed was for him to drive away without her.

‘
I really must go, but I will be back soon, I promise. I left you a note, over there… ’

And Jools gathered up her things, gave Skuttle a chaste kiss on the cheek, clocked the fact that he smelled wonderful (where had he found that incredible aftershave?) and raced up to meet her destiny.

Chapter 10

Dear Miss Julia M. Grand,

As representatives of Commercial Bank London Ltd, we have been asked to bring proceedings against you for the amount of £25,681, plus interest and costs. As you have not contacted the bank, despite numerous letters and phone calls from Mr Horace Fortescue at the Business Lending Division, it can only be assumed that you have no intention of paying this amount voluntarily. If you wish to formulate some sort of payment plan, however, please contact me as soon as possible to discuss this option. If we don’t hear from you within seven days, we will lodge a claim in court for recovery.

Sofia Andersson

Associate

Little, Barry and Morton Solicitors

ON THE WAY TO Percys, Jools couldn’t shake the image of Skuttle’s sad eyes from her mind. Rodney was rambling on about his job, the upcoming election and the expectations people would have of her now that she was to be his wife, but she was still in that basement squat, thinking about Skuttle and those blue-grey eyes. Rodney glanced over and realised she was a hundred miles away.

Jools,’ his voice bordering on sharp, ‘have you heard a single word I’ve said?’ Jools returned to the present, turned to her new fiancé and nodded.

‘
Of course,’ she told him. ‘Dinner at eight and I get to meet your parents.’

Rodney rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. The caring man by the bread bin seemed to have vanished – along with that olive loaf, come to think of it. At the thought of food, Jools’ stomach began to rumble, but the look on Rodney’s face told her there would be no eating until she’d been transformed from lump to stick.

Or as close to stick as she could get, anyway.

‘
That was the first part, but you missed the rest.’ His voice was calm, but when Jools looked his way she saw his teeth were clenched and a muscle was jumping in his jaw.

‘
Listen, you’re going to have to shape up and get serious if this is to work. I’m not just handing over £76,000 so that you can ruin things for me. There is a lot of press interest in me and my family, so we have to watch out. You’re entering a whole new world now, Jools, and in this world there is a code of conduct. We’ll have to concoct some sort of love story and you’ll have to be able to retell it on demand to anyone who will listen, including the press.’

The press? Shit. Jools didn’t particularly like the idea of being in the public eye – at least, not without going on a major starvation detox. Her stomach rumbled again – this time with nerves. Surely it would be extremely difficult to sell any new life story to the people who had known her since she was young.

Like Mel.

What on earth would Mel say if the press questioned her? She was so angry at Jools she might tell the truth. Then Rodney would demand his money back, and she would be homeless once again. Only this time, Skuttle might not take her in. Why would he? She’d pretty much deserted him.

‘
What if someone finds out about us?’

‘
People will believe what you tell them to, Jools.’ Rodney was back-combing his hair with one hand, and trying to negotiate a corner with the other. ‘That’s the first rule of politics. And the second rule of politics is to pay off whoever refuses to believe you.’

Interesting. Jools had assumed the first rule of politics was to flip a non-existent second home. This bloke was even dodgier than her, and that was saying something. Then again, he didn’t know about the debts, the fire, or her letch of a father.

Maybe now was the best time to let Rodney in on her chequered past. Even though she was terrified it might be the end of their arrangement, she’d always (okay, sometimes) thought honesty was the best policy – not that it had served her well with Mel. But she didn’t want to be the centre of any potential scandals down the line – and judging by Rodney’s desperation to marry her, she sensed he didn’t want to be, either.

‘
There are some things I should tell you about me,’ she said, trying not to look at him.

‘
Let me guess, you‘ve got a few credit card debts?’

‘
Well, more than a few but that’s not . . . ’

‘
Look, as long as you’re not committing bigamy by marrying me, I don’t really care what you’ve done in the past. People forget.’

Mrs Pho was extremely unlikely to forget, thought Jools, and she tried again. ‘But you see, I had this business and . . . ’

‘
You went broke. So what? That puts you in the same league as half the self-employed in this city. It’s just good tax practice to go bankrupt occasionally.’

‘
Well, some people weren’t exactly happy with the way things turned out.’

‘
Relax, will you. People are greedy and can be easily appeased. It’s simple: I need a wife, you fit the bill, so just don’t act up and we’ll be fine.’

As hungry as she was, Jools smiled. For the first time in a very long while, she felt things might be actually alright.

‘
Now,’ Rodney said as they pulled up to Percys with a screech, ‘the only thing you need to concern yourself with is getting rid of that toxic body odour, and that moustache.’

Her hand sprang to her top lip. God, living with Skuttle she had forgotten all about the rudiments of feminine hygiene. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to kiss her. Who would? Upper lip bum fluff was hardly going to entice a man, even a homeless one.

Rodney reached over Jools and opened her door for her. ‘Go on, they’re waiting for you. I’ve got an account, so buy whatever the personal shopper tells you and toss what you’re wearing in the bin. Just give them my name and tell them you’re the woman I rang them about.’