Naked in Knightsbridge (24 page)

‘
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?

Chapter 19

Dear Miss Grand,

As per your recent request in writing we have instructed Julio, our manager in Knightsbridge, to stop offering you free merchandise as you pass his store. We apologise if this has turned you into, and I quote, ‘a rotund and unattractive excuse for a human being’, however, with the greatest respect, all our customers have free will in regards to our doughnuts. As a goodwill gesture we have enclosed a voucher for ten free boxes of Trophy Delight doughnuts from any of our 15 stores.

Kind regards,

Reginald Black

Public Relations

Doughy Doughnuts Ltd

JOOLS SWUNG OPEN the front door, expecting the delivery boy with breakfast. Instead, she was greeted with the angry flash of a very large, very expensive camera. Wearing pyjama bottoms and a too-tight tank top, her hair squashed down and her face dotted with spot cream, she was liable to break the lens. Serves them right, she thought angrily.

The pavement was teeming with paparazzi and the popping flashes nearly blinded her. What the hell had she done now? She slammed the door but it was too late. There were probably fifty paps out there and she was sure they’d all got ample shots of the rolls of soft flesh currently spilling over the elastic band of her flannel pyjamas. Ever since the
WhatNOW!
cover, she’d been like a sacrificial pig they all wanted a piece of. Well, she thought, there was certainly plenty to go around.

And according to Rodney, there was little she could do other than simply take the abuse – and lose the excess pounds, of course.

She hoped the delivery boy would be able to get through unscathed; all this stress was making her hungry. She had a standing breakfast order with the bakery around the corner. Every morning they delivered three cranberry scones, two apple turnovers, a Belgian waffle and a serving of apple crumble.

Naturally, Jools didn’t eat everything all at once; it took her the better part of the day to make her way through the basket of delectable goodies. However, she had definitely got used to having scones and clotted cream with her coffee. That her breakfast had yet to arrive irked her even more than the knowledge that, at this very moment, there was a photographer trying to peer into the living room.

Part of her wanted to throw open the blinds and flash the bloke, to give him what he really wanted. But she knew Rodney would massacre her so she drew the blinds more tightly.

Rodney was just as fed up with the negative attention as Jools, but for a very different reason. He didn’t care that his fiancée was being rubbished by every tabloid in London; he didn’t care that her feelings were crushed; and he didn’t even try to understand why she couldn’t stop eating.

No, Rodney only cared about the pictures because they were starting to make him look bad, too. His party was beginning to complain. The men he answered to were now pulling him aside to discuss Jools' 'condition', telling him he could not succeed with a cow for a wife. Rodney believed they thought him less of a man because he couldn’t control his wife-to-be – and the last thing he needed was anyone thinking he was less of a man. He was a man’s man. Quite literally.

Jools knew Rodney was miffed about her weight and the resulting attention. But he didn’t bring it up in conversation — he didn’t bring anything up in conversation – because they had completely stopped talking. Jools wished he would say something, anything, but she didn’t want to risk starting a dialogue. He seemed tense and on edge, and she was terrified he’d snap and call the whole thing off.

So she decided to wait it out. He would have to speak to her eventually, at least to say ‘I do’. If there was one thing she could rely on, it was that Rodney would put on a good show when the big day finally arrived.

But for now, she’d have to be satisfied with the narky notes he left her and the silence that filled their sterile house.

The shrill ring of the phone echoed in the empty room. Jools grabbed the receiver.

‘
Good morning, Julia,’ said Lady Margaret, in her throaty, cokey voice. ‘Have we greeted the sun yet today?’

Jools smiled, happy to hear from her soon-to-be mother-in-law. She’d come to rely on the old woman as a means of comic relief, if nothing else. At least she was getting something out of her ‘relationship’ with Rodney.

‘
Oh, yes,’ Jools said. ‘Not only did I greet the sun but I greeted the blinding flash of the paparazzi. They’re camped out in front of the building trying to get a look at my stomach.’

Lady Margaret laughed and Jools almost felt insulted. Was she providing comic relief to them, too? Sometimes she wanted to tell Lady Margaret the truth about her relationship with Rodney, just to spite the whole bloody family. She suspected Lady Margaret secretly enjoyed Jools’ predicament because it meant that Rodney had failed once again by having a lard-arse for a wife.