Naked in Knightsbridge (7 page)

The best idea was to upload a photo from five years ago. It was her phone screensaver, the one from a boozy vacation to Spain. In it, a brown, fit and relatively slim blonde girl with a beer in each hand laughs nonchalantly at the camera. A far cry from who she was now – well, except for the beers.

Now, describe the item for sale. Hmm. Should she be vague, or extremely vague?

Girl. 28. Never married
.

Or maybe just leave it open?

Ask any and all questions before bidding. No refunds.

The first option could limit the number of bidders and keep the price low. The second might attract an unholy number of creeps and psychos. But the less specific she was, the more buyers might fantasize – and the higher the bids would go. It was a huge risk not to agree on stipulations beforehand, but so was becoming homeless and completely devoid of HobNobs.

At the last minute – thoughts of mad men with whips and chains running through her head – she added:

Young woman till death do us part, or at least a season, to the highest bidder. No sex. Perverts need not bid.

Leaving the starting bid price and auction length at the default setting to stop any red-flags being raised, Jools had the uneasy feeling that maybe this sort of auction wasn’t exactly legal. Maybe she should ask Mel before embarking on the adventure — but Mel would only try to talk her out of it, and Jools didn’t want to listen to a lecture right now. Anyway, it could be argued, both to Mel and miSell, that the auction had a noble purpose.

Yeah, as a scientific experiment, to examine human nature or something.

Having convinced herself of the legitimacy of her actions, Jools moved on.

Form of payment: PayPal. Definitely PayPal. The faster I get the money, Jools thought, the better. Finally, the money-making masterpiece was reviewed. Rubbing her hands together, she clicked ‘List’.

For the next three days, Jools stayed close to her laptop, monitoring her auction. At first, very little happened. On the second day, there was a flood of emails, asking for details, informing of her status as a whore, a sinner, crazy, hot, courageous, desperate (all fair enough, Jools thought) – every manner of insult and compliment.

The good news was that the total was climbing. By the end of the third day, the bid was up to £1000. Even if it didn’t go any higher, she’d at least buy some time. And if she were lucky, she might even fall in love – or at least find a new, flush roommate. Scrolling through the inbox, there were a few sincere messages. Two bidders wanted to meet before they continued to take part.

Not a bad idea, actually. It would be nice to see who was bidding, but she didn’t want to put them off. After all, once the auction ended and the highest bidder paid up, whether they liked the merchandise or not wasn’t her problem. But now that the auction was underway and there was a large amount of money involved, Jools was curious to see who these people were. It might be best to make sure they weren’t totally insane (although some allowance should be made for marginal insanity, given the situation). Maybe there would be a bit of free grub in it too? Her stomach rumbled at the thought.

She quickly emailed the two bidders and arranged back-to-back meetings at Mama Blue’s the next day.

‘
On you!’ she added cheekily at the end of each email, just in case they were planning on leaving their wallets in their cars.

Not being completely barking, Jools thought an objective opinion on her prospective husbands might be in order. And who better to ask than her best friend? Sure, Mel had taken up (again) with the biggest loser ever, but Jools trusted her judgment on anything non-Michel related.

*

Her best friend’s reaction was not altogether unexpected. ‘Are you completely out of your mind? Do you realise what kind of psychos are running around out there, drooling onto their keyboards all night long, just waiting for some naïve idiot like you to step right into their trap? Jesus, Jools. Use your brain. People go to court to protect themselves from crazies, and here you are teasing them into your own flat. Christ!’

That did it. Jools couldn‘t sit by and be insulted when Mel was shacked up with the human form of excrement. ‘Like you’re any sort of example of purity and good decision-making! You and your so-called boyfriend – or should I say,
boyfiend
.’

They both sat and stared angrily at each other. Mel caved first. ‘I’m sorry, Jools, I just care about you, and this, well, venture of yours isn’t safe. You can still move in with me, you know.’

‘
I can’t. Not while Michel is in residence. Anyway, I think my new online career is going to be a great source of income for me.’

Jools looked at her watch. ‘Oh shit, you have to go.’

Mel got up to leave, but Jools grabbed her arm. ’Wait. No. Stay here and watch so I can say ‘I told you so’. Niles Crisp should be here any second. I bet he’s gorgeous! He certainly sounds yummy.’ Jools felt her tummy leap at the thought of crisps.

‘
That’s his name? I can tell he’s a weirdo without even clapping eyes on him. Come on, let’s leave while we still can,’ Mel hissed. ‘Right now!’

‘
No, shh. Someone‘s coming in. Quick. Sit over there!’

Mel rolled her eyes and moved to a table in the corner behind the door.

A short, skinny bloke in a long black leather trench coat walked over to Jools. He flashed a grin. One of his teeth was black.

Shit. Jools shot a look at Mel. She had the sinking feeling that she might need fairly prompt saving, but Mel was adding sugar to her coffee and didn’t see.

Niles Crisp sat down and leaned in. ‘Hi, babe. You’re everything your photo hinted at and more, eh?’ He peeked under the table. ‘I like your tracksuit bottoms, darling. I love sporty birds.’ His breath smelled like old cheese and sweaty socks. Jools recoiled.

‘
What’s the matter, baby? You scared? I’m harmless. I like it fast, hard and often. I can tell you do, too. I spend my days selling, selling, selling. I spend my nights teaching naughty young things like you how to behave.’

A thin thread of spittle hung from the corner of his mouth.

Jools’ heart bumped in her chest. ‘My listing made it clear there’s no sex involved. This isn’t exactly what I had in mind . . . I just need to pay the rent.’ She tried to keep her voice steady.

‘
Ooh, baby, let me assure you, we’ll get your rent paid. You just have to work hard – if you know what I mean.’ He licked his lips.

‘
No. I mean, yes. I know what you mean. But no, that’s not going to work, alright? I’ve got to go.’ Jools stood up, grabbed her coat and looked hard at Mel who was already halfway to the door.

Niles Crisp wasn‘t the type to take rejection well. ‘You little bitch, where do you think you’re going? You can’t run from me!’

Jools and Mel broke into a sprint and ran three blocks before Mel pulled Jools into an alley and screamed that she was certifiably insane. ‘I should get a doctor and have you sectioned. I’m going to take you back to your flat, you’re going to pack your shit and move in with me. Don’t you dare say no.’

Jools could barely breathe. That was the fastest she’d moved all year. ‘Thanks, Mel, but I keep telling you, I can’t live with the boyfiend. I respect you enough to let you make your own decisions. You need to treat me the same!’

‘
Fine. Call me when you’re being tortured by a psycho whilst tied to his bed. I’ll save you, if I can.’

Jools smiled. ‘Is it wrong that the thought of that isn’t entirely unpleasant?’

But Mel just shook her head and stalked off, disappearing into the nearest Tube station. Jools ducked into the loos at the Tube and fixed herself up for Bidder Number Two. Maybe she shouldn’t go through with it. But, she reasoned, the last one was so bad that surely it couldn’t get much worse. Anyway, this next bloke sounded honest and professional: Would be delighted to make your acquaintance with a view to discussing our possible business arrangement. What a gentleman. In fact, he might be extremely refined – and maybe even handsome. With a username like ‘HotRod38’ he sounded promising in one aspect, anyway.

She made her way back to Mama Blue’s. There was no mistaking who was Bidder Number Two, HotRod38. Sporting a navy polo and dark glasses that obscured his eyes, she saw that his jaw was square, his nose straight and his hair shiny and groomed. As she approached, he didn’t stand up or even look at her, just slipped into the chair opposite and launched into a polite speech that had clearly been rehearsed.

‘
It is nice to meet you. Let me explain my situation, entirely in confidence, of course. I am a politician about to be preselected as MP for the safe seat of Kensington and Chelsea. I’m gay, but I have told my party I’m about to be married. I must find a wife or any chance of becoming an MP is ruined. I would require a prenuptial agreement, as well as a legal contract from you stating that you will never disclose the circumstances surrounding our marriage as long as we both shall live. The marriage should last long enough to be plausible. I would not expect you to be faithful, just discreet. Think about it. I will be bidding on your auction up until the end. Thank you and have a lovely evening.’ With that, HotRod38 walked out of the café and into a waiting car.

Jools took a deep breath and watched as his car edged along the busy high street, then disappeared around the corner. ‘HotRod38, I like the look of you,’ she said aloud, relieved there was at least one normal bidder out there. Detached, wealthy, and with a strong ulterior motive, he was a perfect candidate for marriage.

She wondered if he lived somewhere nice.

Chapter 6

Dear Ombudsman for Social Services,

I am writing to complain of my appalling treatment at the hands of the Willesden Green Dole Office. As a person who has paid most of her taxes on time (well, when I had the money), I cannot believe that this country, a supposed democracy, would allow me to starve to death on the street over one small indiscretion when I was young. Despite my pleadings, I have been left to my fate. Please see what you can do immediately.

Yours starvingly,

Julia M. Grand

NILES CRISP WASN’T finished with that bitch who’d put herself up for auction online, not by a long shot. Such opportunities didn’t come around often, and he was willing to invest a significant amount of time to get a cute (albeit fat) young wife. Niles had tried conventional relationships, but they bored him. He was meant for something wild, unorthodox, and just plain hot. So the day after meeting Jools, he arrived back home from his job at the call centre and buckled down to hatch a plan to possess her.

Despite the fact that she didn’t seem to fancy him (that could just be a matter of time, couldn’t it?), it was shocking to find she had retracted his bids. What nerve! After all, he was the customer, and wasn’t the customer always right? She didn’t deserve to slither away that easily, and he was more than willing to teach her all about customer service.

Staring at the shagpile carpet that graced his mean little kitchen, Niles finally concocted the perfect plan for ensnaring his future wife.

First, a polite email, acknowledging that their chemistry did seem off and he had no bad feelings about his cancelled bid. However, he wrote, it had been nice to meet her and if she felt like it, perhaps they could be friends. Of course, she wouldn’t respond – she’d already shown she had no customer service skills to speak of – but it would divert any suspicions that might arise when he made his next move.

Which was to become someone else.

Niles Crisp began to create a new miSell user account. Buyer name: Brad Brown. A small smile twisted his lips. Perfect. Innocent and wholesome. Maybe even make him American. Yes. Throw her off any scent of Niles, and make it impossible to meet him, given his location several thousand miles away.