The Girl at the Bus-Stop (10 page)

‘I could never get tired off this view,’ said Becky, exhaling a plume of cigarette smoke, ‘it’s a proper working river and it’s fascinating to watch.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Rudge, ‘but imagine what it must have been like in its heyday? There would have been dozens vessels from all corners of the globe bringing in everything from tea to terracotta. I doubt if you’d have been able see across to the other bank for ships.’

‘I wish I could have seen it back then.’ she said wistfully. ‘But even now I’m quite content sitting here watching it. I’ve even put a picture of the Thames on my PC in the office, it makes working there just that little bit more bearable.’

‘I don’t have that problem anymore. I am no longer an employee of Einstein & Unger.’

‘When did you decide to resign?’

‘I didn’t, they sacked me. Or rather that overbearing bully, Dave Banstead did. When I walked out of that dreadful place for the last time I was so delighted I almost danced all the way to the bus stop.’

Becky looked sad for a few moments as she stared at her coffee cup.

‘I wish I could jack-in my job,’ she said miserably.

‘Well you won’t have to put up with it much longer,’ said Rudge cheerfully.

 
‘What do you mean?’

‘How would you like a full-time career as Raspberry Caine?’

‘How, I mean, why, I mean, what are you talking about?’

‘The book is selling quite well,’ Rudge explained. ‘To be perfectly honest it’s gone ballistic, and I need you to be Raspberry Caine permanently.’

‘Doing what exactly?’ she asked, sounding apprehensive.

‘I don’t know, what you did before I suppose. It’s my full time business now, but you’re the real star of the whole thing so I want you to do it as a proper job. I’ll pay you a decent salary and everything.’

‘What can I say?’ she said grinning, ‘Yes of course I’ll do it, even if I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.’

‘Excellent, I’ve already instructed my accountant to draw up a proper salary and package for you,

‘Your accountant, eh? Very posh I’m sure.’

‘So you can hand your notice in at work any time you like.’

‘Hang on a minute though, Mr Rudge,’ she said looking worried, ‘I won’t have to do that bloody awful train journey every day will I? It would drive me bonkers.’

Rudge smiled at her warmly and got up from the table, easing her chair from under her as she too stood up.

‘No chance of that, I wouldn’t put you through all that palaver.’ he said. ‘So come on, let’s go and find the car, I have a little surprise for you and I think you’ll like it.’

Becky was speechless during Rudge’s tour of the riverside apartment, and she looked at the fixtures and fittings in awe as if she was attending an exhibition of modern design.

‘Originally it was two apartments,’ Rudge explained, ‘but the owner wanted a bigger place for his family to use when they were all in London. So he bought the one next-door and had a connecting door put in. It’s still got a kitchen in the other part, and all the bedrooms are en-suite so you can take your pick which wing you prefer. Then we’ve got the swimming pool and gym in the basement, so what do you think?’

‘It’s absolutely fantastic,’ she replied, walking towards one of the huge windows, ‘and look out there, it’s the river.’

‘I thought you’d like that bit, Becky. There’s the massive double balcony as well of course, so you can sit out there and have breakfast and literally watch the world go by.’

‘This is unbelievable, Mr Rudge, it’s like a dream.’

‘The only down side is that I’ll be here as well,’ he said lowering his head slightly. ‘ But like I said,
 
it’s like having two apartments really. We can keep the adjoining door closed so we shouldn’t get in each other’s way.’

‘It’s big enough for twenty people and they still wouldn’t get in each other’s way.’

‘I’m glad you like it,’ he replied, ‘it’s only rented but who knows, perhaps I’ll be able to afford to buy one just like it one day.’

‘Thanks, Reuben, no one’s ever done anything like this for me before, not ever.’

She ran over to him and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips.

‘Wow,’ he said, pushing her gently away, ‘
and
you called me by my first name. So what do you fancy doing tonight? Shall we go somewhere nice for dinner then hit the high spots?’

She frowned and gave him a little lost girl look.

‘Do you mind if we just get a takeaway and stay in?’ she suggested, ‘I’m pretty tired after the train journey and all this excitement. I don’t want to go out anywhere before I’ve had a chance to settle in properly.’

‘That suits me,’ replied Rudge, ‘I think I saw a pile of menus in one of the kitchen drawers, I’ll just get them.’

Rudge walked over to the open-plan kitchen and rifled through some of the drawers.

‘Just one thing Reuben,’ she asked, ‘it’s Friday night and you’re still in London. Why haven’t you gone home for the weekend?’

‘That’s easy,’ he replied, ‘I booked a last-minute holiday for my wife and her sister yesterday afternoon and they flew out this lunch time. They’ll be spending four glorious weeks in a top hotel in her favourite resort in Lanzarote, and all courtesy of a competition I won.’

‘What competition?’

‘I had to tell her something, so I made out that I’d won a competition for a holiday. I told her it was only for a fortnight, but the holiday company had given me the option to extend it by two weeks at a knockdown price.’

‘You devious so-and-so,’ said Becky.

‘She thinks I’m starting my new job in London next week, which was the perfect excuse why I couldn’t go myself.’

‘Why do you want her out of the way for a month, are you planning to do a bunk?’

Reuben walked over to her carrying a fistful of takeaway menus and handed them over.

‘Ten minutes after they’d left, an architect entered my house to draw up plans for a complete makeover and refurbishment,’ he said. ‘We’ve lived in that house
 
for fifteen years, and my contribution to its maintenance and upkeep so far has been practically zero. The place is falling apart, but I’ve just never had any spare cash to spend on it.’

‘I always imagined you living in a nice cosy house,’ replied Becky, ‘not like my poky and draughty little flat.’

‘I don’t think my wife likes our house at all,’ he replied. ‘So it’ll be a nice surprise for her when she returns from holiday. Although I don’t know why I’m bothering, her contribution to the Rudge family’s income has been zero. I think she only married me so she could give up working.’

Becky selected an Indian menu and started to run her finger down the choices for each course.

‘Won’t she be a bit suspicious about where all the money came from to do the place up?’

Rudge stood next to her and read the menu over her shoulder.

‘She knows I’ve got this new and very well paid London job, and one of the perks I mentioned to her was very low-interest employee loans as part of the package.’

‘I’ll have the chicken Madras I think,’ she said, ‘plus pillau rice and a plain nan.’

‘Okay, I’ll go for the lamb biryani and a plain nan. Do you want any extras like samosas or Bombay potatoes?’

‘Okay, let’s push the boat out, we can get some chips as well.’

Reuben walked over to the breakfast bar and picked up the telephone.

‘But you know your wife, Reuben, she’s not stupid. She’s bound to find out sooner or later about you not having a city office job.’

‘Not really,’ he said dialling the number of the restaurant, ‘the accountant pays me a salary, my pay slips get posted to my home address and the money gets paid into our joint bank account each month. She’ll be quite happy with that, with the added bonus that I’ll be working away during the week so I won’t be in her way.’

On Saturday morning Rudge took Becky on a trip around some of London’s main tourist attractions. They started with the reconstructed Globe Theatre, which was right next to their apartment block, and a few yards further on to the Tate Modern and over the Millennium Footbridge to St Paul’s Cathedral. After coffee and doughnuts at a pavement café, the Mercedes pulled up and Harry drove them to the Tower of London. After a guided tour they hopped on a pleasure cruiser to take them down river to Greenwich, where they enjoyed a pub lunch sitting outside in the autumn sunshine.

Afterwards Harry drove them to several exclusive shops, dropping them off immediately outside. Rudge treated Becky to several new outfits and various accessories.

‘I feel like a tart, sponging off you’ she said, as they emerged from a designer boutique clutching several carrier bags, ‘and I don’t like it one bit.’

Rudge stopped walking and turned to face her.

‘Look, Becky, you can get those thoughts out of your head right away,’ he said looking sombre. ‘You’re Raspberry Caine, a successful author for goodness sake and you need to look the part. It’s the company, Raspberry Caine Limited which is paying for all this stuff, not me.’

‘Can’t I just buy my own stuff?’

‘You could, but why the hell should you?’ he said sternly, ‘Don’t forget you’re going to Gale Buckingham’s for afternoon tea on Monday, and you’ve got to look good in the company of a famous film star.’

‘I’d forgotten about that,’ she replied, ‘but that’s another thing, I don’t even know what salary I’m on. How can I mix with the rich and famous if I don’t even know what money I’ve got coming in?’

Rudge shook his head, and held his head in one hand before replying.

‘I’m sorry, Becky, I should have told you. I must have forgotten in all the excitement of the last couple of days. The accountant worked out your salary and your take home pay will be two grand, plus expenses of course.’

‘Blimey, that’s five hundred quid a week, that’s not bad at all.’

‘It’s not per month, Becky, it’s two grand a week.’

Becky dropped the bags and did a little war dance around them before throwing herself into Rudge’s arms.

On Sunday morning, Rudge left Becky undisturbed in her wing of the apartment and took a walk across Southwark Bridge. He wandered the quiet streets for an hour, before buying himself a coffee from a café near the Thames.

He could see across the river to the apartment block, and he sighed. Hating himself for being middle-aged, he finished his drink and walked back with his head down. In the reception area of the apartment block, an athletic young man in a track-suit was talking to the porter. As Rudge waited for the lift, he strolled over to him.