How Not to Shop (34 page)

There was a boy in an anorak with the hood pulled tightly round his face. And a dog? Yes, she thought she could see a dog.

'OWEN!' she yelled across the street. But the bus whizzed down towards the stop and blocked the bus shelter, the boy and the dog from her view.

She ran out into the road, but had to wait halfway across to let two speeding cars past. To her horror, the bus pulled off and she uselessly shouted: 'Stop!' in its wake, frightened that Owen was on board. Running across the last part of the road, she reached the bus stop and through the rain-soaked glass she saw that Owen, his anorak and his dog, were still there.

'Owen!' she cried out, running towards him, 'Owen! I'm sorry!' She felt a rush of mixed feelings as she sped round the glass and threw her arms round his shoulders. 'I'm so sorry!' she repeated, feeling a wave of relief wash over her, 'Please, please tell me you weren't going to go anywhere? You weren't going to go away?'

'Nah!' he answered, almost cheerfully, 'they won't let Dave on the bus.'

'What are you doing here?' she asked, trying to keep any note of anger from her voice.

Owen shrugged. 'Staying dry.'

'I'm sorry,' she repeated and hugged him once again. 'You've got to come home now. I've been so worried.'

'Can Dave stay with me?' Owen asked, hoping that his cold, damp protest hadn't been in vain.

'What, so that every time you don't like what I tell you, you can disappear off down the road, have me running round the whole of Highgate like a lunatic, then give in when I've found you? NO,' she said firmly, 'Dave's coming to live with us 365 days a year. I'm putting up with that, even though I don't like it. So for two tiny little days, you'll have to let him out of your sight and put up with it, even though
you
don't like it.'

'Aw!' Owen began to make a half-hearted attempt at protest.

'If you're going to argue or pull another stunt like that, then it's straight back to the bloomin' dog home he goes,' she threatened.

When Owen remained silent, Annie told him: 'You know that I love you really.'

'Yeah.' A shrug of the shoulders.

Annie heard her phone beep. Desperate for news from Ed, she pulled it out and read: 'Have Lana, taking E to Svets.'

Svetlana at the door:

Cashmere robe (Harrods)
Beige sheepskin boots (Ugg)
Unbelievable underwear (Myla)
Pearls (Tokyo)
Perfume (Givenchy)
Total est. cost: £1,800

'Vhy you here?'

'Ohhhh, you are a bad, bad, girl. Bad . . . tooooo bad,' Harry groaned in genuine pain. He pressed his face back down into the black sheet and breathed in Svetlana's richly exotic perfume.

Meanwhile Svetlana sat on top of him in one of her favourite lingerie ensembles: knickers made of pale pink silk and black stretch lace with a matching quarter-cup bra. Just one look at her heaving, voluminous white breasts barely constrained within these structural masterpieces was usually enough to make Harry promise to do . . . well, whatever she wanted. But then he tended to do that anyway, which was sweet. She just thought she should keep up the nice bedroom outfits, to make sure he continued to behave as well.

Silky black stockings and very high black heels completed her look, along with the rope of pearls at her neck. She liked to make use of the pearls now and then: running them along his stomach, twisting and moving them around his wet, firm erection. And he liked that. He liked that very much.

'Nooo!' he protested with a gasp, 'No! No!'

But still she sank her fingers in deeper.

'It's too much,' he groaned.

'No!' she insisted, 'Is good. Is very, very good!' She leaned further into him, feeling for the most hidden, most tender places.

'Aaaaaaargh!' he complained when her fingers found and manipulated them mercilessly.

'Is good,' she insisted, moving into the muscle fibres at the very base of his neck.

In Svetlana's opinion, as well as regular sex, every man of Harry's age needed a vigorous bi-weekly dose of Swedish massage to stay healthy.

Ed parked the Jeep in the street.

'Right then, here we are,' he announced and reached over to open the driver's door.

'Coming, Elena?' he asked. Elena nodded in reply and stepped out.

Lana looked up sleepily at Ed. 'Are we home?' she asked.

'No. Not yet, just stay put, I'm dropping off Elena.'

Lana didn't argue with this, just nodded and closed her eyes once again.

Ed walked with Elena to the door and rang the bell long and loud. Within moments, Maria was opening the door. Her eyes widened in surprise when she recognized Elena.

'Hello,' Ed began, 'I'd like to see Svetlana. I'm dropping off Elena.'

Now the maid's eyes were as wide as an owl's.

'I see . . .' she said and closed the door in their faces.

Elena looked at Ed as they waited. 'She not vant me,' Elena told him with more than a hint of sadness.

'She needs to get to know you,' Ed told her. 'I want to give her the chance.'

'She von't like it,' Elena pointed out.

'Well, sometimes the things you don't like turn out to be good for you,' was all Ed could think of saying.

The door opened and Maria was standing in front of them once again. In a whisper, she said, 'Now is very bad time, can you please visit tomorrow?'

'No,' Ed replied, 'tomorrow is not convenient. I need to speak to Svetlana now. Elena is coming to stay here.'

Closing the door, the maid scurried off again.

'Now what?' Ed wondered out loud.

His question was answered when the door opened and Svetlana herself appeared on the threshold, hair ruffled and wearing only long sheepskin boots and a belted cashmere robe. Maybe she'd been in bed. More likely she was lounging about having some minion do her nails or something, Ed guessed.

She looked put out, to say the least.

'Vy you here?' she'd demanded urgently, looking from Elena to Ed, then back again. 'Not now! Not here!' she insisted.

'Yes,' Ed insisted: 'now and here.'

Keeping his voice low and controlled, he explained briefly: 'Elena can't stay with us. Elena doesn't even want to stay with us. We have a sixteen-year old girl. I've just found her drunk and sick in a bar with your daughter and a crowd of seedy men.'

When Svetlana said nothing to this, Ed went on. 'Your daughter Elena, who's thinking about becoming a dancer, by the way. A nightclub dancer. Don't you care at all what happens to her?' he asked. 'Aren't you interested? Don't you want to help her at all?

'She's not my problem,' Ed went on, flinching inside as he said this, because it wasn't in his nature to turn away from young people who needed help, but somehow, he had to get Svetlana involved, 'she's your problem. You deal with her.'

Svetlana had never been spoken to like this by anyone. Everyone else always told her exactly what she wanted to hear. And if they had something to say that she wouldn't like to hear, they got their lawyer to fax it to her.

She gasped with shock and ran through a list of threats she could throw at Ed. But there was nothing she could use. He didn't work for her. He didn't need anything from her. He couldn't benefit from her in any way. He and Annie had been keeping her daughter as a favour! She had no control over them.

She gasped again – this time, because she could hear the door at the top of the stairs opening, and footsteps descending rapidly.

Now Harry was coming into the hall behind them in a hastily assembled outfit.

'What the dickens is going on?' he demanded.

First of all he saw Ed at the doorstep, then his eyes fell on Elena. With her pale skin, blonde hair, proud upright posture and light grey, defiant eyes, she almost didn't need to say the words that tumbled from her lips.

'Hello, I am Elena. I am Svetlana's daughter.'

Annie dressed to go:

Pink silk skirt (Oscar de la Renta, Store sale)
White shirt (Gap)
Beige fishnet hold-ups (Pretty Polly)
Beige suede boots (Jimmy Choo, via eBay)
Beige mac (Valentino, via eBay)
Total est. cost: £420

'You're old enough to know.'

'You did not! She did not! What happened then?'

The news of Elena's dispatch was so exciting, Annie had to put the long lecture she'd prepared to give Lana on hold. In fact, one look at Lana's pale and contrite face as she'd sidled in the front door had told Annie that the whole lecture might not be necessary.

'I'm going to my room to change,' Lana had told her meekly, leaving Ed to finish the Svetlana story.

'Harry stormed off!' Ed went on, 'without another word . . . without even tying up his shoelaces! Then Elena went in and that's all I can tell you. She slammed the door in my face!'

'Oh blimey, I have to phone her.' Annie reached for her mobile, but Ed put a hand on her arm.

'No you do not,' he said: 'why don't you just let her be? Let her sort out her own mess for once. Owen!' Ed's attention had moved to the puddle close to the dog basket. 'You've not let Dave out! Now he's peed and you're clearing up, mate.' Ed added: 'Some lessons have to be learned the hard way.'

'Shhh,' Annie told Ed, 'Owen's had a bit of a time of it himself.'

Owen groaned, but got up from the sofa.

'Dog ownership comes with responsibilities, buddy,' Ed told him, patting him on the shoulder as he passed.

Annie's eyes met her partner's. He'd tracked down her daughter and brought her home in the face of tough-guy opposition, he'd gone to one of the wealthiest women in Mayfair and told her how it was; he'd even delegated dog wee duty to Owen.

She was impressed.

Annie could have done all these things herself. Easily. But it was the fact that he was here and he did them too that was impressive. He was her equal. Maybe even, right now, he was slightly more powerful and slightly more in charge.

And the fact that they held the balance of power like this between them, constantly making tiny shifts and adjustments, like two tightrope walkers with poles, was impressive. And very, very sexy.

Annie quite liked the fact that to other people, Ed might appear too nice, too cuddly and too much of a pushover, but really, there was a core of strength running through him. He was upright. One hundred per cent. He would never let you down.

'Thanks,' Annie told him, moving to put her arms round Ed's waist and pull him in, 'I don't think we should go tonight,' she said.

'No,' he agreed.

'I need to go up and see Lana now.'

'Yeah.'

Annie could see, as soon as she stepped into Lana's bedroom, that her daughter was very sorry.