Naked in Knightsbridge (19 page)

Chapter 14

Dear Miss Julia Grand,

Thank you for opening a new Black account with Imperial and Colonial Banking Group, and for your recent deposit of £76,000. Your new debit card is enclosed. We are also writing to inform you of our great interest-bearing term deposits, with high rates of interest a business woman such as yourself will appreciate. Please don’t hesitate to contact us with any queries.

Rutherford Smith

New Business Manager

‘
I KNOW IT seems steep,’ the salesman said, ‘but look at it this way: time is money, right? How much time do you waste waiting for your applications to open, your files to download, your documents to print? You won’t have to wait on anything with this baby. This one is cheetah-fast.’ He stroked the laptop.

He did have a point, Jools thought. After weeks spent using that grubby thing Skuttle had rigged up for her, and years using her own sluggish late nineties-era model, an upgrade was definitely in order.

Besides there was still plenty of money to pay back the bank – and she might not have to, if those lawyers could come up with something shonky to get her out of it.

‘
I’ll take it,’ she told the 20-something standing behind the counter. He was a good salesman – and he was cute, which didn’t hurt. But even he couldn’t compete with her new computer. The most expensive Mac on the market, it was gorgeous. Super light-weight, the stainless steel casing giving it an almost space-age appearance.

This computer is a fresh start, she thought, handing over her seductive-looking black debit card. The salesman quickly rang up her purchase, along with the extra software, crystal-encrusted mouse and digital camera he’d convinced her were ‘must haves.’

It was a heady feeling, being able to purchase so much, and Jools had no intention of stopping now. She headed over to Harrods, aiming straight for the handbags on the ground floor. Looking around at all the glorious specimens on offer – totes, clutches, shoulder bags – she decided she’d better set herself a limit: no more than £1000 (on handbags, anyway).

But a Vivienne Westwood Ebury Ostrich Tote for £700 caught her eye, then a Pauric Sweeney Eel Skin Hobo Bag in turquoise for £975 called out (given her recent past, how could she refuse it?), then a brief but tantalising glimpse of the Nancy Gonzalez Crocodile Fold-Over Clutch in red for £1100 teased her . . . God, there was going to be trouble.

Ostrich, eel and crocodile: a dream safari and scuba-diving expedition. But no nasty desert dust or unflattering wetsuits required: Harrods had conveniently converted all the wild and exotic creatures into luxury fashion accessories so that she could enjoy them in every-day comfort. Buying three handbags was far cheaper than going on safari anyway, and though the shopping day was far from done, she could surely keep herself from splurging too much when she started looking at clothes.

But by the end of the afternoon, Jools had spent nearly £20,000 on a variety of items she didn’t need, including £500 on matching silk bra and knickers that no one would ever get to see.

Only the realisation that she hadn’t eaten all day made her stop. Imagine, food had taken a back-seat to shopping! In fact, she’d managed to lose quite a bit of weight recently. Being homeless tended to do that. Even if she did have a home now, with all this shop-ercise she’d be down to a size 12 in no time.

A few times, as the black card worked its magic, she wondered if she was going overboard, but there just didn’t seem any reason to stop. It felt so good to be able to spend.

A tiny prong of guilt nudged when she caught sight of the price of the 500ml bottle of Crème de la Mer moisturiser for £900, but the girl behind the counter, whose skin was so perfectly luminescent it had a hypnotic effect on poor Jools, persuaded her to purchase another £200 worth of cleansers and anti-aging creams.

Jools sat down to grab a quick bite at
Pizza et Pasta Inc.
After all that exercise, she could afford to indulge in a few calories. Waiting for her lunch to arrive, she removed her flashy new piece of electronic love from her bag and placed it on the table, making sure to wipe down the table with a cloth napkin beforehand. She popped the lid open and the computer came to life with a soothing, harmonic hum. Jools was ecstatic when an icon at the bottom right corner of the screen flashed, indicating the computer’s wireless card had picked up a signal.

She clicked the browser icon on the task bar and quickly navigated to her inbox to see if there were any new messages. Yes! Her heart fluttered as she opened an email from Brad.

Brilliant. The American hunk is still interested, she thought with relief. Maybe her plan to have a bit on the side would work out, after all.

Brad’s email was short and sweet. Suddenly spending hundreds of pounds on brand new knickers didn’t seem so silly.

Sad to have missed out on the greatest purchase of my life, Brad wrote, but maybe I can still buy you dinner?

Jools clapped her hands and thought for a second about what to write back. She had to be careful. She was committed to Rodney, committed to being his wife (at least on paper), and it wouldn’t do to go running around London (or America for that matter) with another man. Now that she was a public figure, she had to be very crafty about maintaining the secrets of her personal life.

She knew Rodney wouldn’t care about her sleeping with other men. But he’d be more than a little annoyed if her actions tainted his public persona. It was all about keeping up appearances and now, staring down the barrel of a £20,000 shopping bill, Jools wasn’t about to jeopardise her set-up. Plus, Rodney seemed a semi-decent bloke, and she didn’t want to mess up his political career any more than she wanted to mess up her chances of remaining liquid.

Jools hit the reply button. Dinner’s a definite option, she wrote. The auction may be over but my affection remains. Let’s see what happens.

It was a perfect response, she thought: breezy and flirtatious, but sexy and mature. She hit ‘Send’ just as a huge Supremo pizza and a large salad arrived on a shining metal tray. Jools closed the computer and stored it safely back in its soft leather sleeve.

The waiter placed the gigantic circular dish in the centre of the table. ‘Hope you don’t mind me bringing the pizza out before your friend arrives. We weren’t sure if you wanted to wait.’

‘
I’m not waiting for anyone,’ Jools said, shoving her napkin on her lap. What was with these people? She licked her lips and contemplated which slice to grab first.

The waiter looked over his order pad curiously. ‘Sorry, madam, I have here that you ordered a large.’ He started to lift the giant tray off the table. ‘If there’s been a mistake, I can – ’

‘
Stop!’ Jools grabbed the tray and bit into a slice, wondering what on earth the problem was. The waiter stared, then shrugged and walked away.

Polishing off the pizza and salad, Jools made her way to the Blue Bar at the Kensington Royal Hotel for a quick drink with Mel. Hampered by all her purchases, she was 20 minutes late. Mel gave a huff of annoyance when Jools entered, laden down with shopping bags and sporting a pair of obnoxiously large Jackie O-style sunglasses.

‘
Sorry, darling.’ Jools deposited her bags on the floor and plopped down in the booth opposite Mel. ‘It’s been one hell of a trying day.’ She leaned over and air-kissed Mel, who was completely taken aback by her friend’s continued transformation.

‘
Looks like it’s been an expensive day,’ Mel said, sipping her martini.

‘
Oh, not that bad, really. Just a few necessities. What are we drinking?’ Jools called the waiter over and ordered herself a martini as well, but told him to make hers chocolate.

‘
Well, isn’t this fun?’ she said to Mel. ‘Girls’ night out. Just like the old days, except now we can sip chocolate martinis at the Blue Bar instead of drinking watery coffee at Mama Blue’s.’

‘
Got your wedding invite,’ Mel said, getting down to business. ‘Gorgeous stationery. Must have cost a bloody fortune.’

‘
Probably. I didn’t have much to do with it. Rodney’s mum is handling all of that.’

‘
How nice for you.’ Mel rolled her eyes.

‘
Actually, it is. It is nice to be surrounded by people who truly care about my happiness for once.’

‘
Rodney’s mum wouldn’t care an ounce about your happiness if she knew what was really going on,’ Mel said, refusing to hide her disgust.

‘
And what’s going on, Mel?’ Jools asked. ‘I’ve met a wonderful man who needs me just as much as I need him and we’re getting married.’

‘
Bollocks.’

‘
If you can’t be supportive, you don’t have to come, you know.’ Jools regretted her words the instant they fell from her lips.

‘
Is that what you want?’ Mel looked hurt.

‘
Of course not.’ Jools grabbed Mel’s hands and squeezed. There was no point in starting another argument, not now.

‘
Of course I want you at my wedding. But not if you’re going to be sitting in the corner, sneering at me the entire day.’

‘
I won’t sneer. Promise. I can’t assure you I’ll be smiling the whole time but I won’t sneer.’

‘
Deal,’ Jools said.

‘
And Michel will be there too, so at least I’ll have a shoulder to cry on if things get too insane.’

‘
Oh, really, Mel. Do you have to bring him?’

‘
The invite said I could bring a guest. Who else am I going to bring? He’s my boyfriend.’

‘
Right.’ Jools sipped her drink. Obviously Mel was choosing to live in denial for the foreseeable future. ‘Everything alright with you two?’

‘
Superb. Seriously, never better.’

Jools almost believed her for a second. Maybe, despite bonking Mel’s mum, Michel wasn’t the evil user she thought he was.

And maybe her dad would develop a conscience?

No way. Some things never changed.

*

Niles decided if he had any hope of wooing Jools, he’d have to convince her that Rodney was not who he claimed to be. He’d been online for hours, searching every possible source of information. He had a full biography of the man now, but the only relatively juicy bit of information he had managed to drag up wasn’t even about Rodney, it was about Lady Margaret. Apparently, she’d been spotted dozing off during a performance of Hamlet at the National Theatre last spring and the photo of her, drooling onto her lapel, had made the society pages of every tabloid in London. So not only was it a boring news story, but everyone already knew all about it.

Niles was enraged that Rodney was so perfect. He looked perfect and he spoke perfectly – he was always smiling and shaking hands, holding babies like he actually enjoyed it. He had a top-notch education, never had any run-ins with the law, was an intelligent and charismatic speaker and had risen in the political ranks quickly and with the support of his peers. He was everything Niles wasn’t; he’d been given every opportunity that Niles hadn’t; and now he possessed the one thing Niles wanted more than anything in the world.

Niles wasn’t the brightest but he was street-wise. He knew how low men could go if the stars were aligned in the proper formation, and he knew no one could be as perfect as Rodney seemed to be. There had to be something he was hiding; some ancient skeleton in the closet. Everyone had them — Rodney Wetherspone was just exceedingly good at keeping his quiet.

Niles would keep digging until he discovered Rodney’s dirty little secret and when he did, he would use his newfound knowledge to lure Jools away from her betrothed and into his newly-outfitted basement prison in Slough.

*

Jools wasn’t happy to hear from her dad again so soon.