Authors: Sarah Elizabeth Ashley
Archie soon arrives, slightly early
as usual and whisks me off to Harvey Nichols. I ask him to come back in a
couple of hours and we agree a meeting place as usual. I check he has his phone
with him in case I want to be collected early, although as I prefer solitary
shopping I don’t think I will be any quicker.
Once I’m in the store I make a bee-line for the lingerie
department which I peruse for a little while before selecting a stunning Stella
McCartney black bra and knickers set. The design looks almost like open
fretwork, of course it’s not, it feels so luxurious on, of all my lingerie
purchases, this has to be my favourite. I also choose a lacy pink set trimmed
with a black bow by Agent Provocateur, an Elle MacPherson set which is black
and cream lace, two Wacoal bras, one in black and one in nude, both with
matching knickers in addition to a further handful of knickers and thongs to
replace the vanished ones.
With time on my hands I wander around the ladies wear, I’m
not someone who fills their wardrobe with clothes that I never wear, I would
rather buy things as I need them, despite the cash in the bank, but I am drawn
to an Alice Temperley merino wool cape, it’s just me and will look fabulous
with jeans, what the hell, we’ll have that too!
Whilst I’m here I have a wander into the men’s department,
nothing catches my eye, which is unfortunate as I would love to have taken
something back for him.
By the time I’ve purchased what I came for and had a look
around my time’s nearly up and I walk to the meeting point agreed with Archie
just outside the store. I stand waiting for him and in usual Archie fashion I’m
not kept waiting too long for the ultra-punctual driver to arrive.
“Where to Mrs. Drake?” He asks.
“I need some groceries. Anna’s home tomorrow, so Tesco or
Waitrose, I don’t mind which.” I sit in the back of the car checking my emails
as we drive through London, nothing important really.
“There’s a Waitrose not too far from here.” Archie suggests.
We cruise through the streets that scare the living hell out
of me, one of the reasons that I now refuse to drive in London – I hate the
traffic, too busy and certainly not like I’m used to and are soon at the store,
Archie pulls into a parking space and waits for me. I whizz around picking up
everything I need for a Sunday roast.
A large rib of beef, large because I know that James will
put most of that away and with five of us to feed we’ll need it on the larger
side, old potatoes for roasting, a jar of goose fat for roasting the spuds in,
fresh carrots and broccoli, I know I’ve frozen peas and the bits and pieces I
need for my Yorkshire puddings. I grab a decent bottle of Shiraz and a couple
of readymade apple pies and a tub of custard, oh and whilst I’m here I stock up
on strawberries and cream.
Once I’ve got everything I need I make my way back to Archie
and by three thirty I’m home and unpacking my groceries.
Once I’ve done I go to my room, change into something
comfortable and put my new underwear away. I check on Anna’s room, despite
Muriel’s current attitude she’s a damn good cleaner, Anna’s room looks great,
really good.
I return to the kitchen and make a cup of tea and check the
mail.
A couple of pieces of junk mail,
a letter for Anna with a Birmingham University frank and another large Jiffy
bag which, as I pick it up feels and looks exactly the same as the one that
contained the photographs. I open it carefully and as I think I was expecting there
are about twenty pictures of me and of me and Gia on our shopping trip. They
show us outside Harrods, in the store and sitting in Café Rouge. It has to be
Lewis! I know he’s not at home but surely he’s not up and around just yet. Just
as I was starting to get past him, starting to let go and move on from his
controlling behaviour and his outbursts he’s clawing his way into my life
again.
I reach for my bag and phone and
call James.
“Hi Blossom.” He answers.
“I’ve got another package of
photographs,” I blurt out, “there of me and Gia when I took her shopping!”
“Okay, sit tight and don’t touch
any of them. I’ll call Benito now.” He’s so firm, taking control.
“When are you coming home
James?” I feel panicky again.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.
Just sit quietly, have a cup of tea and I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
I push the Jiffy bag to one side
like I’ve been told to and wait. I try to carry on with normal day to day
things, I fetch the box of jewellery that Maggie left and root the boxes, there
are some lovely pieces, none that I would particularly choose to wear, and it
all looks real. White and yellow gold, diamonds, they look real, hell with
Maggie’s worth they must be! The biggest ruby I’ve ever seen and some stunning
pale blue sapphire earrings which I take out with a view to cleaning and
wearing, they’re beautiful, I think I’ll pop those in some surgical spirit for
a few minutes and wear them, they really are beautiful.
I have no idea what I’m going to
do with it all, there must be twenty five boxes of various shapes and size,
some unbranded and a couple from independent jewellers, the names I recognise
from the trips into London. The problem with jewellery is that it’s so
personal. I think that most pieces, such as the more ornate ones, you either
love or hate. I stack all the boxes neatly in the carrier that they were given
to me in and secret them away at the back of the wardrobe, they really should
be in a security deposit box somewhere, something else I need to arrange, or
sell it. I need to discuss with Anna first.
I’ve had a great day, albeit on
my own, and now Lewis has ruined everything again. As I sit waiting for Benito
my mobile rings, I check the screen, it’s the accountant’s office.
“Hel..Hello.” I stammer.
“Alex, are you okay?” It’s Gerald.
“No, not really Gerald. But I’m
glad you’ve called, you can take my mind of things until my friend gets here.”
I feel at sixes and sevens.
“Are you sure Alex?” He sounds
concerned.
Did I sound that scared when I answered my phone?
“Yes I’m fine Gerald, honestly.
Did you look into Henry’s?”
“I did, it’s not good, in fact
it’s a mess, a complete mess. He’s making a profit and a good one, but the
money’s not being used to pay the suppliers,” I hear him take a deep breath,
“my guess is that what he should be paying the suppliers with he’s using to
keep the staff sweet, and you I suppose. By doing what he has been, Maggie and
you would never have been aware of the issues, never suspected anything. Maggie
wanted nothing to do with the running of the place, I know that, and as long as
she was getting her cut every month, well nobody would have suspected anything,
it’s only by you asking to see certain information that we now know how bad
things are, and that girl approaching you!”
“And how bad are things?” I’m
concerned.
“As bad as they can get Alex.
There’s final demands all over the place. The credit rating of the place is
through the floor. It’s a limited company so to some extent you’re protected if
it goes under, but he owes,
you
owe a lot. Alex from what we can tell
there’s suppliers chasing bills that are over five months old!” He tells me
what he’s discovered.
“Oh, I see. What do we do then
Gerald?”
I hear another deep breath, very
deep like he’s thinking before he starts talking. “Well, that’s up to you. I
know you can afford to clear all the debts and really and truly it won’t dent
your worth because although the club owes a lot, it’s not that much in the
grand scheme of things, just enough for the suppliers to be jumping up and down
and to do something radical, if they’re pushed enough. But that said, from what
we’ve found out it looks like one or two of them are at the end of their
tethers. If they issue final demands, start proceedings and the place goes
under you could suffer, loss of reputation and such. If it were me, and let’s
not forget it isn’t me, I would buy him out, get rid of him Alex. From what
I’ve seen today he’s a liability! Clear the debts and put a manager in, run it
yourself. It’s highly profitable, there’s no two ways about it, the place makes
money, hell it’s a money factory! But I have no idea, and I mean
no
idea
what he’s doing with it!” I hear him huff.
My doorbell rings, “Thanks Gerald,
look I have to go, someone’s at the door. Nothing will happen before Monday,
will it?”
“No, you’ve got a couple of
weeks I reckon, but looking at the accounts I’ve got here, unless he settles
some of the bills in the next few days the creditors
will
do something,
and that will be drastic I’m pretty sure.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll talk to you
on Monday.”
“Have a good weekend Alex and I
hope you’re okay? Call me if you need anything.”
“I’m fine, really Gerald. Thank
you.”
I cut the call.
Shit
,
James said that Nial was bad news.
I check the front door through
the spy hole before opening, it’s Benito. “Benito, thank you for coming round.”
He steps inside, his exceptionally well cut silver grey suit and white open
necked shirt look stunning, especially when being supported from the inside by
the amazing frame that he has.
“You’re welcome Alex.” He holds
my shoulders and kisses each of my cheeks, the right one first, in quick
succession.
“Where’s the package?” He asks,
all serious now.
“Kitchen.” I point towards it.
He pulls out his black gloves
from his suit jacket and dons them on before handling the Jiffy bag. “So
presumably only you and your house keeper have handled this, as far as you
know?”
“Yes, I suppose so, and the
postman.” I watch him as he picks the package up.
“Yeah, of course.” He flicks
through the pictures. “They’re all very amateurish again Alex, these are
not
the work of any kind of detective, private or otherwise. Someone’s used a box
standard point and click for these, really and truly they’re rubbish, as far as
photographs go, but they’re having the desired effect as far as you’re
concerned.” He looks at me knowingly.
“James mentioned underwear
missing as well!” He mouth turns up so lightly, curving into the gentlest of
smiles. Why do all these blokes think it’s so funny that my underwear is
missing, I bet if I converted it into cash they wouldn’t think it so funny.
“Ummm,” I feel myself flush,
“all of it, apart from some of the old stuff I had when I lived with Lewis. All
my new things have gone. Some of it hadn’t even been worn. I’ve replaced most
of it this morning.”
“And the house keeper hasn’t had
it?” He double checks what presumably James has told him, wandering around the
kitchen, his eyes everywhere.
“She says not, I’ve looked
everywhere. It was there yesterday morning when I got dressed, when I came home
I went to get changed and it was all gone, all of it.”
He stands looking through the
photographs again, “Can I get you a drink Benito?” I offer.
“Coffee would be great, thanks.
Black, no sugar.” His head’s down, looking at the photographs again.
“You don’t like strawberries as
well do you?” I half laugh.
“No, why do you ask?” There’s a
puzzled look on his face he probably thinks I’m strange, muttering about
strawberries, surely he knows about James’ strawberry obsession?
“No reason.” I shut my mouth
before I say anymore!
He looks confused even more
confused.
I’m just pouring boiling water
into the cafetière when James arrives. I hear his key in the front door and
then him powering down the hallway, straight into the kitchen.
“Benito mate.” The two men back
slap, hug and shake hands. It’s like some sort of animalistic ritual watching
them.
“Can you show me where you keep
your underwear?” Benito turns towards me, that little grin on his face again. I
am not totally convinced that even the sexiest, toughest of men have a touch of
the dirty old man inside them, he can’t wait to root through my underwear, it’s
so obvious.
“I’ll do it,” James says before
I’ve chance to answer, “this way.”
The two go off upstairs.I hear
them chat about this and that as they go. I don’t know if I like the thought of
two red blooded males, both clearly with high sex drives, looking through my
underwear drawer!
I stay sat on a stool at the island
and glance at the images at the top of the pile, I resist flicking through them
as Benito has already asked about whose handled them. Why is Lewis doing this?
After just a few minutes I hear
James and his friend talking as they return downstairs, the conversation not
about my missing underwear and the photographs but of who someone they both
know getting off with some model last night.
“Has your room been cleaned
today?” Benito’s all business again as the comes through to the kitchen,
picking up his coffee and taking a long drink.
“I don’t think so, it didn’t
need doing anyway. Muriel cleaned Anna’s room, I know that, because she’s
Anna’s home tomorrow and I asked for it to be cleaned especially.” My gaze
flicks between James and Benito, what are they both thinking, they both look so
deep in thought.
Eventually, Benito breaks the
silence, “I’m going to get one of my guys to come over and see if there are any
prints on the drawers. I’ll need a print of Muriel’s, to rule her out but I
don’t want to ask her for one. Is there anything definite that you know she’s
touched?”
“Furniture polish – a spray
can?” I think of her cleaning, she used the plastic carry box with the cleaning
materials.
“Great. I’ll call it in now and
I’ll wait with you until we’ve checked for prints. I don’t suppose you’ve got
anything that Lewis will have touched?” Benito pulls a stool out, as he
continues to look around my kitchen.