Twinkle Twinkle Little Lie
Page 12
It didn’t matter, but Julia still felt miffed. ‘You said he had ‘a’ copper mine.’
‘Did I?’ Hettie cocked her head. ‘I’m sure I said ‘the Copper Mine’. As in the business name. Anyway, there’s still some money in it, isn’t there?’
Poor naïve fool.
‘Not enough to waste on plane tickets, I’m afraid.’
Hettie finally got it. ‘But how will I pay back your money?’
‘Actually, about that. How did I pay you?’
The frumpy woman looked confused. ‘You don’t know?’
‘My, um, secretary arranged it.’
That seemed to satisfy Hettie. ‘A bank cheque. A man delivered it. Said he worked for you, which is strange because he didn’t seem like someone you’d employ.’
Steve Smith. Who else.
Julia couldn’t believe.
Steve Smith had saved her.
From jail.
And paid a huge sum for the privilege.
‘Are you alright, Julia?’ Hettie asked. ‘You look a little pale.’
But Julia didn’t answer. She was already out the door, pushing Rover out of the way, and grasping for her BlackBerry.
He was waiting at the agreed meeting spot – the carpark near the Serpentine in Hyde Park. Standing against his battered van wearing his usual tracksuit, he never looked more appealing.
It’s not too late, Julia. Call David back. Tell him you didn’t mean it. Tell David YES!
Pushing the voice in her head aside, Julia got out of the Mercedes and ran over.
His face lit up. ‘Jeans? Not your usual designer gear, is it?’
‘Let’s say I’m a little over designer right now.’
He reddened for a moment, but then quickly employed his usual bravado. ‘So, hot stuff, what’s up now? More lawyer business?’
‘You know what’s up, Steve Smith.’
‘Dirty, hot stuff! Who knew that–‘
Julia cut him off by kissing him. On the lips. Then more.
A good five minutes later, he pulled away. ‘What was that for?’
‘Is it a problem?’
‘I’m not complaining but–‘
‘I know what you did. You paid Hettie so I wouldn’t go to jail.’
Steve blushed again. ‘If you think that kiss was worth fifty grand, you’ve got another thing coming. I expect a lot more for my money.’
Julia wrapped her arms around his large frame and hugged tight. ‘Oh, you’ll get it all right.’
‘Hah?’ He looked down at her. ‘You’re actually serious.’
‘God knows why, but yes, I am. In spite of that hideous tracksuit, I am attracted to a PI from Mile End.’
‘I knew you’d come around in the end,’ he winked, pulling her chin towards his.
‘No you didn’t,’ she laughed.
‘You’re right!’
And then there was no more talk.
CHAPTER TWENTY
BY THE TIME ROVER was extradited from the US and had agreed to plead guilty in return for paying all costs, he was one hundred per cent poorer than when he went in, which, in turn, meant Julia was broke.
David, it turned out, was actually a decent loser, and helped her out with the financial disaster that had befallen her. ‘The problem is, the house is heavily mortgaged and Rover insists he lost a lot in the 2009 property crash. After costs, and as long as you don’t abscond before the final court hearing, you’ll come out with about thirty grand.’
About the price of a summer holiday, Julia thought sadly.
‘Oh,’ David said, ‘by the way, did you tell the defendant of the woman you were pretending to act for about Inner City LLP’s pro bono scheme?’
Ah, pro bono. Now it makes sense.
‘Kevin? No way,’ Julia said. It was only a half-lie. She didn’t deliberately give the dog the card, did she? ‘Why would I have risked you discovering what I was doing?’
‘That’s why I’m asking. It just seemed a strange coincidence.’
‘Thirty thousand pounds,’ Julia replied, changing the subject. It’s enough to put a deposit on a small flat, I suppose.’
‘If you got a job.’
‘Right. Who would employ me?’
‘I would,’ he uttered a little too quickly, and realising it, the lawyer turned away, embarrassed.
I feel about an inch high.
‘Look, David, about Steve . . .’
‘I get it, Julia. It’s about money. It always is with women.’
Money? What?
‘David, it has nothing to do with money. Trust me, Steve is . . . well, I can’t explain why I am even interested. He has nothing I want.’
The lawyer got up from her kitchen table and made for the front door. ‘Oh, I think he has pretty much everything you want. And I hope you’ll be very happy.’
Connie was sitting on the doorstep when Julia arrived back from, of all places, the local social security office.
‘You have some nerve,’ she told the maid, before Connie could speak. ‘You have ruined my life. And you should have at least left your key when you ran off and snitched to the police.’
The maid was trembling. ‘It wasn’t my fault. I was scared of being deported.’
‘And now you’re broke and need a place to live?’
Connie nodded.
‘Join the club, Connie. Thanks to you and your snooping, Rover has no money, the house is on the market to pay what we owe to Inland Revenue, and I am going to be rehoused in a council house unless I can find a job that pays far more than I am qualified to do.’
‘Oh dear.’ The maid’s face was a picture and Julia, feeling exhausted by the events of the past few weeks, sat down on the front step.
‘Why did you do it?’
‘Same reason you did the lawyer thing.’
‘Excuse me, but I don’t recall your husband running off with a dwarf, leaving you with a maid to support.’
Connie snorted. ‘She is a dwarf, isn’t she?’
Julia took in the unwashed clothes, the dishevelled hair. Poor girl could use a bath. ‘I suppose you mean money. You did it for money?’
‘I come from a poor country. And you have so much here.’
‘Had, Connie, had.’
‘Yes.’
They sat on the front step, watching the hooligan builders across the road wolf-whistling at everything in a skirt.
Finally, Julia spoke. ‘Look, things happen, why don’t we just move on? You can stay here until you find a place of your own.’ She suddenly had a thought. ‘Actually, you might be able to move in with Hettie. She could do with the company, with Kevin having that baby and everything. You could be her maid. God knows, she needs help dressing herself. And you actually don’t have bad taste.’
‘Really?’ Connie couldn’t quite believe she’d received a compliment.
‘Really.’
‘You think she take me?’
Julia patted the skinny knee next to her. ‘We can only ask. She offered me a room, but I turned it down. Her dog considers me its wife, so it wouldn’t work.’
‘I like dogs,’ Connie offered.
‘So it turns out that Hettie is a very genuine person. Both of us could do with being more like her.’
Connie stared over at her boss, open-mouthed. ‘You sick or something, Mrs Palmie?’
But Julia just smiled at the street, which was visible through the open security gate. Steve Smith was pulling up in his van.
‘Or something,’ she replied.
Or something.
It was mind blowing. So mind blowing, in fact, that Julia didn’t ask Steve to decamp to a hotel and allowed him to stay for three days straight. Pretty soon she would be inviting him to a place far more like his own, so they might as well enjoy the luxury while they could.
Connie, who Hettie had graciously agreed to take in after the repossession, took the house guest in her stride, and simply averted her eyes when Steve insisted on walking about dressed in nothing bu
t a smile, muttering ‘Mr Stevie’ with a playful yelp at the sight.
‘Connie told me she’s making dinner for us.’
Hmm. He seemed to be getting a little too comfortable. Sitting up, Julia told Steve that no matter what, he wasn’t going to move in.
‘No offence. I might find you attractive, for some reason only the Lord above knows, but I can’t have you and your tracksuit trousers roaming about South Kensington. How would that look?’
Kissing her shoulder then moving with feathery touches to the nape of her neck, Steve remarked that it might be difficult to stop him roaming about South Ken.
‘Come on, Steve. I can come and visit you in your caravan, or wherever you reside. I mean, Connie is a vindictive little cow, despite ending up on my side and helping me pack up for free now. Her maid network will be gossiping their way around the local Waitrose and in no time, we will be the top choice for local dinner party conversation.’
‘Would that be so bad?’
‘Steve!’
He rolled over and took her hand. It seemed tiny in his huge, rough palm. It was what she loved about him most – a tall woman herself, he dwarfed her. Made her feel small and special and closeted.
‘I have a confession to make.’
Here we go.
Julia sat up. ‘You’re married?’
‘No. Of course not!’
‘You’re gay.’
Tickling her feet, which, it had been discovered, seemed to be an erogenous zone where Julia was concerned. ‘Yeah, I’m gay!’
Julia threw a pillow at him. ‘Come on, what? Those steaks Connie is burning to a crisp downstairs have reminded me how hungry I am.’
‘Me too,’ Steve replied with a grin, leaning down to kiss her belly button.
‘Steve!’
‘Alright. It’s like this. I bought something in your area.’
‘What? Like a kettle?’
He laughed. ‘No, like a house.’
Now it was her turn to laugh. ‘In the Royal Borough. Poor Steve, I think you might be delusional.’
‘Some mates hooked me up. They were working on it and apparently the owner had some marital issues–‘
‘Big surprise.’
‘So I made a call and he sold it to me on the cheap. If I was prepared to carry out the rest of the renovations.’
After making numerous concessions with regards to dating the PI – including the fact that he wore tracksuit trousers everywhere – Julia felt it extremely unfair that in the end, the man was certifiably insane.
‘You couldn’t have bought a house around here, Steve.’
‘Why not, hot stuff?’
‘Because they cost a lot.’ She was speaking slowly, as one did with people who were mental.
‘Okay, look. You assumed a few things about me and I didn’t correct you.’
‘Really, like what?’
Here is goes. Something like: I assumed he was normal and not an escapee from an asylum.
‘That I had a small company with me as the single employee.’
‘Right. So you work for someone?’
‘No. People work for me.’
God, don’t let him say he’s a mafia boss or something.
‘Really? How many? And where are these people?’
‘About five thousand. In offices around the world.’
Julia felt light-headed. ‘Steve, tell me the truth. Are you one of those ‘care in the community people’?’
Sighing loudly, Steve got up and picked up his iPhone. ‘Google Smith & Co International.’ Humouring him, Julia did it. A large, official website flooded the screen.
‘Now, click on ‘About Us’.’
She did, read the spiel then dropped the phone in horror.
‘See.’
Picking it up again, she reread the blurb that told of one man’s humble beginnings and the expansion of his specialised services to all major clubs and bars through the world. That man? Steve Smith. And in confirmation, a photo of him, in a suit.
‘So, hot stuff, what do you have to say now?’
Unsure how to respond, Julia said the first thing that came to mind. ‘If you own a bloody suit, how come you never wear it?’
‘I’m on a six month break. Your mate Lia called when my main UK guy was involved in a car accident, so I stepped in. And met you. And, I don’t know, you seemed so horrified by my appearance that I couldn’t resist sticking with it. And you.’
Head spinning from the news, Julia remembered about the house. ‘So, you really can afford a house in South Ken?’
Steve beckoned her to the window. ‘You can see it from here, actually.’
Shooting over by the open Victorian frame in an instant, Julia peered across trees of the front garden.
‘Where?’
‘Straight across the road.’
It was the huge house with the obnoxious builders.
A massive smile spread across Julia’s face.
‘You like the house?’ Steve hugged her to him. ‘I thought you give live there, rent free. Pay me with sex.’
‘Love it, but that’s not why I’m smiling.’
‘Really. What’s up?’
‘Those builders are about to get the shock of their lives. And I can’t wait to see their unshaven faces.’
‘Does that mean you’ll move in with me?’
‘Isn’t it a bit soon?’
‘Where else are you going to go? To Hettie’s with Connie? You hate that house. And that dog! We’re too old to wait about seeing how things go, hot stuff.’
Kissing him, feeling his soft, firm lips on hers, Julia mumbled her consent. And realised, that for the first time since she’d turned forty, she didn’t resent being old.
And for the first time since Rover had left, she didn’t resent the divorce.
In fact, Rover being a total and utter prick had brought her to Steve.
Lovely, sexy, mega-rich Steve.
She couldn’t wait to tell Lia, who was vacationing in a sanatorium in France to get over the shock of what she’d done.
She couldn’t wait to tell Connie, either. The maid could have her old job back, although Julia might insist she lives with Hettie and commutes.
All was good with the world.
Well, almost.
‘Listen, Steve. I hate to ask, but could you put some business through to David Henry-Jones. As a thank you.’
‘Doesn’t he just do divorce?’
‘The firm does everything. And it’s the least I can do. He even gave me back my retainer. Even after I told him I was attracted to you.’
‘Hmm, I don’t know. He was my competition, you know.’
‘I’ll do really filthy things to you in bed.’
The kind, rough-hewn face crinkled into a wide smile. ‘In that case, hot stuff, you got a deal.’
‘And I plan to enjoy every moment of it.’
‘Me too,’ Julia whispered, reaching for him.
THE END
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Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
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