‘What about all publicity is good publicity?’ Jools asked.
‘Eating for eighteen is never going to spin well!’ Rodney screamed.
Jools slammed the ensuite door in his face and locked it from the inside.
Chapter 18
Dear Miss Grand,
We refer to your letter in which you stated you planned to sue us for doctoring a photograph of you and your doughnut supplier. We assure you that we in no way altered the photograph to which you refer. We enclose an original print from your supplier’s email for comparison. We hope that this puts your mind at ease and we hope to see you on our covers again very soon.
Percy Williams
Editor-in-Chief
WhatNOW!
JOOLS FIGURED THE only reason they were poking fun at her was because she actually was getting fat. If she was skinny and eating doughnuts, no one would care. Or if they did, it would be in admiration that she could manage a high-fat diet and still cavort about in bum-skimming skirts.
The ‘fattie photo’, as Rodney had so sensitively christened it, had now made its way onto the cover of nearly every tabloid in London. The headlines varied in their level of humiliation but they all said pretty much the same thing: Grand Big Doughnut Fan. Well, they weren’t wrong; she loved them, which is why Rodney’s lawyer said she couldn’t sue for libel.
Even her father had seen it. He’d left a message on her voice mail to say she was looking a little plump and he hoped she wasn’t going to risk her new, cushy life by becoming a blimp.
Rodney had demanded she stop eating doughnuts immediately.
‘Just close your mouth and have some self-control. That’s not too much to ask, is it?’
Problem was, self-control had always been the one thing Jools couldn’t quite get the hang of.
But she promised him only lo-cal foods would pass her lips from now on.
At least when she was in public.
*
Mel called to meet up for coffee.
‘Alright, but let’s go to Mama Blue’s.’
‘Why? It’s miles away! And I thought you were above that now.’
‘I can’t be seen near food outlets around here. The paps are all over me.’
Mel laughed.
‘It’s not funny.’
‘It is ever-so-slightly humorous that you’re famous for eating doughnuts, don’t you think?’
‘Yeah, I’ve been in hysterics ever since I first saw that shitty photo.’
‘Mama Blue’s it is then,’ Mel conceded. ‘I’ve got a client near there, so I’ll meet you in the café at noon.’
Jools arrived at Mama Blue’s clad in a ridiculous disguise straight out of a detective novel: beige trench coat (Rodney’s, so at least it fit); oversized hat; dark glasses. The costume was so insane it actually had the opposite effect of what Jools had intended. She was drawing more attention to herself now than she would have if she’d just worn jeans and a T-shirt.
Mel burst out laughing the minute she clapped eyes on her.
‘It’s not funny!’ Jools said in a harsh whisper, adjusting the dark shades she refused to remove. ‘These people are maniacs. They’re following me everywhere now. I can’t leave the house without one of them trying to snap a picture of my big fat bum.’
‘Jools, your backside is fine. You know they manipulate those pictures digitally. Come on, take off the glasses.’
Mel was laughing so hard Jools thought she might fall off of her chair.
Jools wasn’t keen to share the news that the bum featured in the photo was all hers. ‘It doesn’t matter if they manipulate them. People believe what they read in the papers and now everyone in London thinks I’m fat. Which, let’s be honest, I am. I’m the fattest I’ve ever been.’
Mel shook her head, a bit taken aback by her friend’s heightened emotional state. ‘Do you want anything? ‘I’ll go up and get it so you don’t have to worry about being recognised.’
‘That’s sweet of you,’ Jools said. ‘I’ll take a large mocha latte and one of those mini peanut butter and chocolate-chip Bundt cakes.’ Mel paused for half a second, wondering if Jools was joking.
‘One cake isn’t going to kill me, is it?’ Jools snapped, banging her hands down on the table.
‘I didn’t say a word, Jools. Have you finally gone insane?’
Jools removed her glasses and let her head fall flat onto the laminate table. Her horrible, low-pitch moaning quite unsettled Mel. She’d never seen her friend in such a state – not even when Jools had found out she wasn’t pregnant and the government threatened to jail her over those illegal handouts.
‘It’s just not what I thought it would be,’ Jools managed to say. ‘I know you want to say you told me so. So go on. Say it. Tell me what a fool I’ve been.’ Jools continued to moan and Mel shook her head.
‘I’ll go get the coffees – and your Bundt cake.’
She walked away towards the counter.
*
Niles needed a coffee.
It was extremely chilly and wet. Sitting in a tree all day waiting for Jools – especially now that some pesky birds had decided to mate on the branches above him – was thirsty work.
He made his way down to Mama Blue’s, the only café around for miles. The tables outside were full so he went inside and walked straight up to the counter, where a tiny dark-haired girl was placing an order.
Jools lifted her head and looked over at her friend. God, she was lucky to have Mel. Kind, level-headed Mel, who didn’t know that she deserved so much better than that philandering Michel.
When Mel returned with the latte and the Bundt, Jools had (almost) lost her appetite. Once the cake was placed in front of her, though, she ripped off small portions of it and shoved them into her mouth at warp speed.
‘The problem is,’ she tried to explain, ‘Rodney doesn’t seem to want anything to do with me when we’re not out in public.’
‘Well, what did you expect, Jools? He’s never going to sleep with you.’
‘I don’t want him to sleep with me. But I thought we might be friends, at least. Hang out at home, make dinners, go shopping. But he’s never at home. He doesn’t eat anything other than these stupid protein shakes and I shop by myself, all alone, every day!’
‘Poor you.’ Mel looked anything but sympathetic.
‘It’s terrible!’ Jools whined, feeling very sorry for herself. ‘My fiancé doesn’t even like me, let alone love me. And he’s really a terrible snob – much worse than his mother and father put together! At least they talk to me.’
Jools sighed and swirled her latte with a wooden swizzle stick. The rain was still coming down outside and the day was starting to feel long and exhausting, like it would never end.
‘He goes out every night,’ she continued. ‘I’ve no idea where he goes but wherever it is, he heads there right after work and he doesn’t come home until well after midnight – sometimes three or four o’clock in the morning. We never talk unless he’s having a go at me for something. I can’t even remember the last time we had breakfast without fighting!’
‘I said it at dinner the other night, Jools, and I’ll say it again: what you’re looking for is a real boyfriend. Someone to take you out and talk to you and make dinner at home with you and sleep with you. Someone you can share a real life with. As great as he is, Rodney’s obviously not that guy.’
‘But he’s not great!’ Jools blurted. ‘Haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said?’
‘Of course I have,’ Mel said, trying to stay calm and compassionate, even though Jools was making it harder by the minute. She had, after all, gotten herself into this mess, ignoring all of Mel’s sensible advice. Now Jools was begging for more and still refusing to heed it.
‘What I’m saying is that outwardly, Rodney seems like a great guy. Michel certainly thought so.’
Jools made a rude noise and looked away.
‘And you know,’ Mel continued, ‘I wasn’t going to bring this u
p because nothing’s confirmed but, well, Michel and I have started talking about marriage.’
Jools had to stifle her natural impulse, which, in this case, was to slap her friend hard across the face in hopes she’d come to her senses. Instead, she took a deep breath. ‘Really? Well, that’s different.’
‘He was so cute about it after our dinner the other night, Jools. You should have seen him. He was like a little boy on Christmas morning. And you know what he was most excited about?’
‘What’s that?’ Jools asked, not caring in the least.
‘Hanging out with you and Rodney. You know, the four of us. Like those old married couples who go on trips together, retire together, get their families together for holidays . . .’
Jools started to laugh.
‘What? What is it?’
‘Maybe Michel could put in a good word for me with Rodney?’ Jools erupted into fits of laughter. ‘Him being a boy and all.’
Shaking her head, Mel joined in and the women sat at the familiar old table, giggling until the sad reality of the situation hit them both.
Mel watched as Jools consumed more Bundt cakes.
Niles ordered black tea with four sugars and some raisin toast and turned to find a seat. The place was crowded, but he spied a table way in the back. Sidling along, he eased himself into it, then sat back to observe the crowd. Loud laughter from a table near the window caught his attention.
Two girls.
One startlingly familiar.
*
‘Say what you will about Michel . . .’ Mel started.
‘Oh, don’t worry, I will,’ interrupted Jools.
Now Mel worked hard not to smack her. ‘Michel came back to me. He repented and we are totally committed to each other. He’s changed. Grown up and come clean about every bad thing he’s ever done, although he says that woman you saw him with wasn’t my mother.’
‘Come on, Mel, I know what your mother looks like.’ Harriet Smythe-Brooks had thrown a drunk Jools out of Mel’s place enough times for a positive ID.
‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but not from that angle, you don’t.’
Jools shook her head in annoyance. She wanted to tell Mel she’d seen Michel wandering around near Rodney’s Knightsbridge terrace at night. She’d spotted him three times in as many days and had no idea what he might be doing over there – probably bonking some wealthy old grandma who was keeping him in tight jeans and hair gel.
She’d mentioned it to Rodney, who simply said London was a small place and Michel probably had friends or family in the street. He didn’t seem concerned and told her not to upset Mel with rubbish stories she couldn’t substantiate.
‘He’s hardly likely to choose the street where you live, is he?’ Rodney asked, right before he questioned the wisdom of her teaming her new designer flip-flops with an Armani suit.
No, Jools would need hard proof that Michel was cheating again to convince Mel this time, so until then she decided to stay quiet.
But her friend had lost interest, and was staring over Jools’ shoulder.
‘Mel, did you hear me?’
‘That’s strange.’
‘What?’
‘That weedy little guy in the corner came in, ordered some food just after me, sat down for a moment, looked around, then jumped up and left.’
‘Maybe it was the food?’ Jools’ Bundt cake had tasted a little off.
‘Don’t think so. He didn’t taste it.’
‘The clientele? I mean, look at the woman with the lycra fluro tights on. Not even I would dare to team those with a crop top. At least not in winter.’
Mel shook her head. ‘No, not that.’
Jools sunk down in her seat. ‘He wasn’t one of those evil paps, was he?’
‘I didn’t see a camera.’
‘Just some nutter, then.’
Mel shrugged. ‘Must be. Something familiar about him though.’
‘Let’s just forget it, shall we?’ Jools got up. ‘Another latte then?’
*
Niles was breathing heavily. He’d finally found her. Now his plans for lifelong companionship and happiness could move forward. She was in his sights and this time, she wouldn’t get away.
Waiting between a parked lorry and his white builder’s van, Niles watched Mama Blue’s until Jools and Mel exited. Walking across the road, they got into Mel’s neat Mini and roared off down the street. Jumping in his van, Niles did a quick three-point turn and followed them along the high street, back towards the Royal Borough.
*
By the time Jools got back to the house, she’d had four lattes and eight Bundt cakes. The liquid hadn’t fully worked its way through her system until she was halfway home and she’d been in desperate need of a toilet. But she hadn’t wanted to risk being recognised so she’d decided to hold it. Making it back to the house just in time to avoid wetting herself, she raced down the hallway towards the downstairs loo.
As she did, she noticed that Rodney’s bedroom door was ajar.
It was mid-afternoon and he was never home this early, even on weekends.
Maybe the maid had left it open?
But then Jools heard Rodney’s voice. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well, she thought, and he’d decided to work from home. He was probably on some important conference call. Another male voice joined Rodney’s in the bedroom. A full bladder trumped Jools’ curiosity, so she decided to do her investigating after the loo.
But by the time she’d finished, Rodney was already out in the kitchen, fixing himself a protein shake, and he was very much alone. Jools sauntered out, slightly on guard, and stood in the doorway. The blender was going full speed so she had to shout to be heard.
‘Who were you with?’ she asked.
‘I can’t hear you!’ Rodney shouted back.
‘I said: WHO WAS IN YOUR BEDROOM WITH YOU?’
Rodney stopped the blender and went to the cupboard for a large glass. He poured out the blender’s thick, grey contents and took a sip before answering.
‘What were you asking?’ Rodney licked his lips slowly.
Jools was growing more and more suspicious by the second. ‘Someone was with you when I got home. Who was it?’
‘Oh,’ Rodney started, continuing to take big, fat gulps of his drink. ‘James Slattern.’
‘Never heard of him,’ Jools crossed her arms.
‘Of course not. Why would you have heard of him? Do you move in City circles? Did you go to Eton?’
‘You know I didn’t,’ she answered, moving fully into the kitchen.
‘I do know that, yes.’ He drained his glass and put it in the sink. ‘James was a classmate of mine. He works way out in Kent so I don’t see him much. Rang to ask if I was free for lunch.’
‘So did you?’
‘No, Jools, I told him to go screw himself. Of course we had lunch. We ate at the club. He hadn’t seen the house so I invited him for a tour. He’s thinking of getting a new stereo system so I showed him mine. Now, if you don’t mind.’ He tried to push past her.
There was something going on and Jools was determined to get to the bottom of it. She blocked the door. ‘But if you had lunch at the club, then why are you having a protein shake now?’
‘Jesus, Jools, I had a bloody salad and a bowl of consommé. You know how these places are with their portions. I’m still hungry. Is that all right by you?’
‘Didn’t he think it rude you didn’t introduce your fiancée?’
‘Not really,’ Rodney responded, walking towards his bedroom. Jools trailed behind him. She’d never spent much time in Rodney’s room (probably because she had never been invited in), and even standing in the doorway was a bold manoeuvre.
But Rodney didn’t say anything, just started changing right there in front of her. ‘He’s a bit dim, James. Most of the others don’t bother with him, but me, well, you never know, there might be a donation for a political campaign in it.’
Rodney was lying for sure. Jools
knew a liar when she saw one. She could thank her father for helping hone that skill. Rodney’s very thorough explanation about James Slattern – who, she was convinced, did not even exist – meant he was trying to cover his tracks. And he’d only do that if he was afraid she’d find out something she could use to destroy him. Jools decided to use his fear to her advantage.
‘Sounds like an interesting fellow,’ she said.
‘Good ol’ James!’ Rodney laced up his running shoes.
‘So listen,’ Jools said, ‘I have a favour to ask of you. You and Michel seem to be best friends now . . .’
Rodney jumped. ‘Who? Michel? Oh, well, yes, I suppose we’ve become friendly.’
‘I’ve seen him around here again and so it can only be assumed he’s met another woman and is cheating on Mel.’
‘There you go again, jumping to nasty conclusions about people.’ He was moving nervously around the room now.
‘Yes, well, just the same, I was wondering if you might be able to persuade one of your policeman friends to keep an eye on him? Mel will never believe he’s back to his old ways unless I have proof.’
‘You’re so sure he’s cheating?’ Rodney asked.
‘Of course he’s cheating. The sick bastard can’t keep his hands off other women for more than thirty seconds.’
Rodney started laughing.
‘What’s so funny?’ she asked.
‘Nothing, Jools. Nothing.’ He patted her on the back as he moved into the hall. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
As Rodney made his way out of the apartment for an afternoon run, Jools realised she hadn’t seen him do that since she’d first moved in.
Rodney was shaping up, she thought, but for whom?
Naked in Knightsbridge Page 15
