Valentine Present and Other Diabolical Liberties (6 page)

      I hold my breath while Fiona tots up the figures. We’re sitting in her warm cosy lounge which rather resembles a Laura Ashley showroom. I lean back onto her poppy-red cushions and drop another rum truffle into my mouth. It’s all so decadent and lovely that I could easily convince myself that the whole thing with Julian is just a bad dream. It has been five days since the Valentine’s Day catastrophe. My birthday has been and gone and there has not been a single word from Julian. I’ve been overwhelmed with demands for money from people I didn’t even know existed. The staff at the restaurant hadn’t been paid,
and I’d found a carrier bag under the bed full of bills. Each day had just got worse. I’m now on first name terms with the bank manager and by that I don’t mean we’re dating. Apparently, the rent hasn’t been paid for two months. Yesterday a man came to cut off the gas and it is only a matter of time before the phone is disconnected too. If the weather doesn’t start to warm up I may well have to stay at my mums, or work twenty-four seven at the laundrette. At least it is warm there. To add insult to injury it now transpires that Julian took the loan out for the new van in my name. I can’t even give the van back as Jack Diamond has it. I’m so cross with Julian for dumping all this on me. I gave up a perfectly good nursing career for him when we started living together all because he didn’t like me working nights. It’s all so unfair and one sided. My dream is to help those less privileged than myself and I am halfway through an Open University degree for that, but with all my savings gone I’m going to have to chuck that in too.

     
‘You just wait until the restaurant is flourishing. We’ll be able to go wherever we want and whenever we want and you can do as much charity work as you like then. We just need to build up the business,’ he had assured me. Or should I say lied to me.

     
‘Well?’ I say impatiently.

She chews her lip
.

     
‘Do you want another truffle?’ she asks.

     
‘I’ve already eaten six.’

     
‘It may comfort you,’ she says with a small tremor in her voice.

Oh shit,
I don’t think a rum truffle is going to soften the blow. A bottle of rum maybe, but a rum truffle, I think not.

     
‘Okay, you’ve got to tell me sometime,’ I say, stuffing another truffle into my mouth. Well it’s worth a try and
I need some fortifying.

     
‘Okay, ready …’

I nod. She pops a truffle into
her own mouth and I wonder if I should nip out and buy some more, but before I can suggest it she drops her bombshell.

     
‘Fifty-three thousand pounds, and that’s just what we know about.’

I grab the arm of the couch for support and reel. If someone had dropped a nuclear bomb on me I couldn’t have been more shell
- shocked. She can’t be serious. She must have tapped an extra nought in somewhere. I mean, it’s easily done isn’t it?

     
‘That …’ I begin hoarsely. God, I’m in a state of shock. I can’t speak. ‘Can’t possibly be right,’ I say finally, in a high-pitched voice.

     
‘Do you need a Valium?’ she offers.

I put my head in my hands.

      ‘A razor blade would be better.’

     
‘Alistair uses an electric razor.’

Right Fiona, as if I was serious.
This is a disaster. I mean a
real
disaster. On the disaster scale of one to ten it must rate eleven.

     
‘Honestly, I gave up a promising nursing career for him so we could spend more time together and he does this to me.’

She purses her lips.

      ‘I did tell you not to.’

     
‘Well,
he said once the restaurant was booming I could go back.’

Mind you, he said a lot of things.

      ‘Yes, well booming is the right word. It is likely to go boom if Jack whats-is-face doesn’t get his money.’

     
‘Are you sure it’s that much? How can it be? How can anyone spend that much money?’

She shuffles the bills around on the coffee table.

      ‘Well, there is the rent for a start. He hasn’t paid it for two months so that’s nearly two thousand. He has a Barclaycard bill of eight thousand. Then there is the loan of twenty he took out at the bank …’

     
‘Twenty!’ I shriek. ‘But I thought it was seven.’

     
‘You must have signed the papers,’ she says gently.

Christ, ho
w could I have been such a fool? I just signed where Julian told me. I believed him when he said it was for seven thousand. She pulls a face.

     
‘But obviously the loan agreement you signed was not the loan he told you about.’

The little bastard, wait till I get my hands on him.

      ‘Not to mention the staff at the restaurant who weren’t paid last month, and then there is the finance on the van and I’m only counting the monthly payment, and that is definitely in your name. Something else you signed without realising it.’

     
‘God Fiona, how could I have been so stupid?’ I say, pushing two more rum truffles into my mouth.

     
‘Plus there are the overdue electricity bill and gas bill plus the phone bill of course. There’s another credit card too. Looks like he was entertaining like bloody Elton John …’

     
‘Well he wasn’t buying me flowers like Elton bleeding John,’ I snap.

     
‘Okay, don’t take it out on me.’

I sigh.

      ‘Sorry.’

     
‘And there’s the rent on the restaurant premises from last month, and a John Lewis store card which is sky high and …’

     
‘Okay okay, enough torture. There aren’t enough rum truffles for me to hear any more.’

How am I ever going to be able to pay back fifty thousand pounds? I’d need a dozen kidneys to sort this lot out.

      ‘Of course that’s not taking into account whatever he owed the loan sharks,’ Fiona adds quickly. ‘Sorry, just thought I should mention that.’

Holy shit.

      ‘But, you are only liable for the bills that are in your name and of course the rent if you want to stay there and the phone bills and …’

     
‘Which is?’ I say, holding my breath.

     
‘About thirty-eight thousand, that’s if you pay the staff and the rent on the restaurant and the full finance on the van.’

I groan.

      ‘Are you sure you don’t have any razor blades? What the hell am I going to do? I’ve got my studies to pay for too.’

     
‘Tea,’ says Fiona jumping up, scattering the bills. ‘Tea is liquid wisdom.’

     
‘Oh really, can I have a pint then, with a chaser of three truffles.’

I’ll bloody kill Julian if Jack Diamond doesn’t get to him before I do.

     
‘Harriet Dolly, you’d know I’d help you out if I could but I’ve got a wife and kids. If I let everyone stay here rent free, I’d be out on the streets myself.’

     
‘I could move into your house then,’ I joke, handing him his laundry.

     
‘Very funny Harriet. What do we owe you, and don’t say the usual.’

     
‘Oh nothing Sid, honestly, it’s just a bit of washing powder. The machines are on the go all day anyway.’

He shakes his head.

      ‘Just give me another week, Sid. I’m going to try and get a refund on my studies …’

He raises his hand.

      ‘No, now don’t you stop your studies. You’ve got a future there. Move in with your parents for a time. You might feel safer as well.’

     
‘They’ve only just thrown out my grandmother and forced her kicking and screaming into a nursing home, so I don’t think they would relish having me there. In fact, I would not feel in the least bit safe. If I move in with my mum I’ll be cutting my own ear off before I know where I am.’

     
‘Well, there’s no rush darling. Let’s talk about it again in a week, okay?’

     
‘Ta anyway Sid,’ I say gratefully, hitting the lift button. ‘I’ll sell my ovaries. I never did want kids, not really.’

     
‘Don’t you make me feel guilty now, and that thing is still buggered,’ he nods at the lift.

     
‘Right,’ I sigh, heading for the stairs. Maybe I’ll have a heart attack halfway. That will solve everything.

     
‘Oh yeah, I nearly forgot. You had a visitor.’

My heart seems to stop there and then. It looks like I may well have a heart attack before I even reach the first stair. Oh Christ, now what? Not Jack Diamond coming to collect more ears I hope.

      ‘He didn’t mention body parts by any chance did he?’ I say shuddering.

     
‘Not that I recall. He said something about making you an offer you can’t refuse and he’ll pop back later.’

Oh my God. I don’t want an offer I can’t refuse, not unless it is to clear my debts, but I don’t think that is the offer Jack Diamond has in mind. It is more likely to involve someone’s ear or tongue, or God forbid, some other appendage. Oh dear, awful visions of rushing into A and E carrying an appendage of Julian’s and pleading with them to sew it back on are too gruesome to bear. Unless of course it is one we can sell, that’s something different altogether.

      ‘Nice chap,’ Sid said. ‘Smartly dressed and nicely spoken, your bank manager no doubt.’

That doesn’t bode well, does it? Not when the bank manager makes house calls with offers you can’t refuse. I sprint up the stairs faster than I have ever done in my life. I look wildly around the flat. The half-eaten birthday cake sits on the counter. I suppose they’ll want to finish that, the bastards. I dash into the
bedroom and fumble amongst my shoes and grasp my trainers. My mobile trills and I stick it under my chin as I tie the laces.

     
‘I have good news,’ cries Mum.

I wish I did.

      ‘I can’t talk Mum, I …’

     
‘Caron and Gary’s offer on that lovely semi was accepted. We’re going to Ikea tomorrow to look at furniture.
Ikea!
You can’t get better than that. And Gary said she can use his Barclaycard Platinum. He’s very generous isn’t he love? Now, that’s the type of man you want,’ she affirms.

Blimey,
is this shaved head, tattooed Gary, we’re talking about? It’s a far cry from when Gary was nothing less than a blood-sucking psychopathic vampire, resembling a character out of
True Blood
, who was obviously leading Caron into deviant sexual acts. Come to think of it maybe I do need a man like Gary.

     
‘A man with a Barclaycard Platinum, right got it. I’ll advertise for one tomorrow. Now, I have to dash …’

     
‘You are eating aren’t you?’

     
‘Yes, I’m just off to raid the dustbins as we speak. Can I ring you back?’

     
‘Oh dear, now I’m worried,’ she says in a whiney voice. ‘I’ll have to take my blood pressure. The doctor said all this anxiety over you is sending me into a depression.’

I know the feeling.

      ‘It was 140 over 80 earlier,’ she says anxiously.

     
‘That’s good then isn’t it?’

     
‘Of course not,’ she snaps.

     
‘Right,’ I say, checking the time. I’ve been here ten minutes and my blood pressure is probably off the scale.

     
‘If only you were like your sister Caron and had a nice boyfriend like Gary ... Anyway your dad and I have been talking and we have enough savings. After all we don’t really need a holiday this year. Your dad said there is so much to do in the garden anyway and …’

Oh no.

      ‘Mum, I can’t take your savings, and besides it would never be enough …’

     
‘But it would help sweetheart wouldn’t it? Oh dear, I do worry what will happen to you. I don’t want you on the streets.’

     
‘Mum, I assure you prostitution would be my last resort.’

She gasps.

      ‘My giddy aunt, I meant living on them, not walking them. Besides, you could never do that. A woman needs to be glamorous to do that kind of thing.’

Wonderful.
Why is it whenever my mum and I have a nice conversation she always manages to end it by insulting me?

     
‘Well, ta very much for that vote of confidence.’

     
‘Of course, you could come and live with us for a time,’ she says reluctantly.

There is a rapping at the door and fear clutches my stomach.

      ‘I’ll call you later,’ I whisper.

My heart is thumping so fast I feel sure it will burst. Next time
Mum asks me for birthday ideas I’ll ask for a panic room. There is another thump and I bite my lip.

     
‘Hello Harriet, it’s Hamilton Lancaster.’

Hamilton Lancaster?
The
Hamilton Lancaster? What on earth is he doing here? I push my eye against the peep hole and see that it most certainly is Hamilton Lancaster, and he looks none too comfortable either. This is a bit fishy if you ask me. I’ve only met the guy once and he mistook me for a prostitute. A quick glance in the mirror reveals flushed cheeks and wide eyes. My hair is a bit wild. Mind you, I’m looking a bit wild in general these days.

     
‘Did you come earlier?’ I shout through the door.

     
‘I beg your pardon?’

I suppose on reflection that didn’t sound too good did it?

      ‘Did you visit earlier?’

     
‘Yes I did.’

What on earth for?

      ‘What do you want?’

     
‘To come in would be nice.
I’ve driven around three times and almost got arrested for kerb crawling.’

Ah, knowing him he probably was. I open the door to see him looking red faced and uncomfortable. He’s wearing a black overcoat and an expensive silk scarf. He gives a weak smile. Once inside he looks around warily, fidgeting with his scarf. He thrusts a bunch of tulips at me.

      ‘I understand it was your birthday a few days ago.’

I take the tulips. Blimey, Julian never buys me flowers.

      ‘Do you want me to take your clothes?’ I say and blush. That came out all wrong. I sound like I’m anyone’s for a bunch of tulips.

     
‘What?’ he asks, stepping back.

     
‘I meant your coat and scarf,’ I say quickly.

     
‘Oh right, yes of course. I’ll keep it on if that’s all right. It’s a bit chilly in here.’

I nod.

      ‘They cut off the gas. I use a snuggie and hot water bottle now.’

I begin pricking the tulips with a pin. He looks at me curiously.

      ‘It stops them drooping if you give them a prick.’

Christ, why is everything coming out wrong.

      ‘Oh,’ he says, ‘I never knew that.’

     
‘It only works on tulips, not everything that droops.’

I think it would be better if I just shut up. His eyes fall on the birthday cake.

      ‘Oh, would you like some? I’ve not actually had any myself so I can’t tell you what it’s like.’

     
‘They really did trash your place didn’t they?’ he says looking around.

     
‘I’ve actually cleaned up,’ I say bristling.

What a cheek, and how the hell did he know about that anyway?

      ‘Oh,’ he says, raising his eyebrows, ‘I thought …’

     
‘Why are you here?’ I say, ‘And how did you know where I lived?’

He fidgets and I feel my face turning red. I fill the kettle. Maybe if I do something normal we will both stop thinking about the offer he’s going to make. I hope it’s not sex related. What if he is one of those rich toffs who
likes to do weird kinky stuff, you know the kind of thing. Then again maybe you don’t and I’m not even sure I do. Anyway, whatever it is it must be so kinky if he can’t get anyone else to do it. Maybe he wants me to tie him up and whip him. Pity Julian isn’t making me this offer. I’d happily tie Julian up and whip him. Not that I know much about kinky sex of course. Only what I read once about an MP with a paper bag and a segment of orange. If Hamilton mentions either of these I’ll know to panic. I pull two mugs from the cupboard and fiddle with the boxes of tea.

     
‘We have Mint tea, Orange and Ginseng or …’

Christ, it would be
Orange
and Ginseng wouldn’t it? I blush and push the box to the back of the cupboard.

     
‘Tesco Value and oh, some Earl Grey, but it’s been here yonks so I can’t vouch for it,’ I say cheerfully producing a tatty box of Twinings own.

He sighs.

      ‘You don’t have any whisky do you?’

I shake my head.

      ‘We’re all out of single malt I’m afraid, but it’s on my Tesco shopping list, along with the champagne and caviar,’ I say tetchily, shoving the boxes back into the cupboard.

     
‘I wasn’t mocking, I just feel like I need something stronger than tea.’

     
‘Look, I’m not into kinky sex okay. I don’t take money to piss on people or whatever it is you’re going to suggest. I don’t take money for sex, period. In fact, I barely have sex these days. This whole business is playing havoc with my libido. So I’m really not your girl.’

He backs away in horror.

      ‘Christ,’ he groans. I bite my lip.

     
‘I don’t want to have sex with you,’ he says.

Thanks very much, I’m sure.

      ‘Well that’s a relief,’ I say. ‘I wasn’t exactly overwhelmed at the thought of having sex with you either.’

That was embarrassing. I comfort myself with the fact that I probably could still sell my body. After all, the people I will be catering for won’t be Hamilton Lancaster types will
they? Someone is bound to find me reasonably appealing aren’t they? I could always just hire myself out to the blind and stupid.

He coughs.

      ‘Alistair said you were in a bit of trouble …’

A bit of trouble, is that what he calls it? If only it was a bit.

      ‘Alistair?’ I say spinning round. ‘St-st-st-stammering Alistair? Did he tell you my flat had been trashed, and did he tell you where I lived?’
HH

He nods.

      ‘I contacted him. I need, I need …’

     
‘Yes, well I’m not giving it to you,’ I snap.

     
‘I need a future wife,’ he finally spits out.

I stare at him.

      ‘Sorry, do you mean you need a future wife, or a wife from the future? I’m confused.’

He flops onto the couch.

      ‘My grandmother has six months to live.’

H
e seems to ponder this for a second.

     
‘I suppose less now. Anyway, she’s threatening to cut us all off. She will sell all her shares to some money-grabbing bastard if one of her grandsons doesn’t prove to her that they can be responsible and reliable and will carry on the family name.’

     
‘Oh God, compared to what I’m going through that sounds horrific. I can’t imagine anything worse for you,’ I say sarcastically.

He runs his hand through his thick dark hair and looks at me pleadingly. I feel a tiny throbbing around my navel area. It’
s nothing sexual you understand. My new piercing has been itching for days. I think it’s the stress. What I need is an evening with a Jo Malone candle, a bottle of Moet and some Michael Buble. Maybe I can borrow Gary’s Barclaycard and give myself a little treat. In fact, maybe I can simply borrow Gary’s Barclaycard and bugger off.