‘Doug?’ The older woman was sitting there, stiff-backed like a judge, clearly dissatisfied with the answer. ‘Who’s this person talking about?’
Doug said flatly, ‘Lola.’
‘What? Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ The woman stared at Nick in disbelief. ‘You’re the father?’
Instantly Nick realised his mistake. ‘I am. And you’re Doug’s mother. How very nice to meet you at last.’
They both knew he didn’t mean it. Adele Nicholson looked as if she’d swallowed a pickled chilli. ‘And you seriously think my son made a mistake?’
Nick flashed her his most charming smile. ‘I do.’
‘The only mistake he made was getting himself involved with your daughter in the first place,’
Adele flashed back. ‘Do you know what that girl did to him?’
‘Yes, I know exactly what she did. And she made a mistake too, I’m not denying that. But she had her reasons. My point is, we all make mistakes,’ said Nick, ‘but there’s such a thing as forgiveness. I made a huge mistake twenty-eight years ago, but Lola’s forgiven me. So has her mother. And we’re all heretonight for the same reason. To help. people who’ve made mistakes.’
Noting the look of incomprehension on Adele’s carefully made-up face he picked up one of the glossy embossed programmes from the table. ‘This is a charity dinner in aid of the Prince’s Trust. Some of the money raised this evening will go to help former prisoners who are being rehabilitated into the community.’
Adele clearly hadn’t thought this through, had only come tonight because of the royal connection. She now looked as if she’d swallowed a frog.
‘Anyway, lecture over. It seems that some people are more easily forgiven than others. I’ll leave you in peace.’ Nick looked at Doug. ‘As I’ve already said, Lola’s accepted that you aren’t interested and she’s moving on. Personally, I still think you’re making a mistake. I may not have known Lola for long but she’s an amazing girl, loyal and generous, one of a kind. And I’m proud to be her father.’ He paused then said evenly, ‘One last thing. I wonder if you’ve ever asked yourself why she needed that money?’
Nobody spoke. Up on the stage the MC was preparing to introduce the band.
Nick nodded fractionally at Doug. ‘I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of the evening. Bye.’
He was upstairs in the bar when Doug appeared beside him twenty minutes later.
‘I thought you’d left,’ said Doug.
‘Just had to get away from that bloody awful music. Not my thing.’ Nick signalled to the barman. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘Scotch and water. Thanks. I was rude earlier,’ Doug dipped his head, ‘and I apologise. I shouldn’t have made that remark about Lola sending you here to follow me. That was below the belt.’
‘Look,’ said Nick, ‘I love my daughter to bits, but I can admit that she’s done her fair share of chasing after you. Up until a few weeks ago she might well have tried that trick. But it’s over now.’ He paused, paid for the drinks and said, ‘I’m sorry too. It probably wasn’t very sensitive of me to say all that stuff in front of everyone.’
Doug smiled slightly, shrugged it off. ‘Never mind. It’s this business with the money that I’m interested in.’
Thought you might be.
‘Did you ever ask Lola why she took it?’ said Nick.
‘Of course I did. She said she couldn’t tell me.’ Doug waited, took a sip of his drink, then said with a trace of impatience, ‘Well? I’m assuming she told you.’
‘No. I asked her but there was no way of getting it out of her. She said she was sorry, but she could never tell me.’
‘Same here.’ Doug looked disappointed; he’d clearly thought he’d been about to find out the truth.
‘Sorry. But something interesting happened last week. You know Lola never ever wanted her mother to find out about the money thing?’ Nick waited for Doug to nod before proceeding.
‘Well, Blythe did find out about it.You can imagine how shocked she was. She even called me to tell me about it. She couldn’t believe Lola had done such a terrible thing to you.’
‘And?’ Doug was gazing at him intently.
After a pause, Nick said, ‘Blythe asked Lola what she’d spent the money on and Lola told her. A fancy Jeep, apparently. Which was stolen a week later. She hadn’t insured it, so that was it, the money was gone.’
‘Really? A Jeep?’ Doug frowned.
‘That’s the story.’ Nick held his gaze for a long moment before knocking back his Scotch in one go. ‘Think about it,’he added, ready to leave and wondering if Doug Tennant was smart enough
— surely — and cared enough — hopefully — to work it out. ‘Then ask yourself whether you think the story Lola told her mother was the truth.’
Chapter 54
Going cold turkey was proving harder than Sally had imagined. This was a magazine habit they were talking about, after all, not crack cocaine.
Oh, but she had a long-standing habit to kick and she badly missed turning those glossy, exciting-smelling, brand new pages. She was doing her best to keep herself entertained instead with a copy of Pride and Prejudice lent to her by Lola but it just wasn’t doing the trick.Apart from anything else the pages weren’t glossy and there was no mention in it anywhere of Coronation Street. What’s more, the print was so tiny she had to screw up her eyes to read it, which made her realise she was probably on the verge of needing reading glasses which in turn made her feel old.
‘Oh shut up,’ Sally wailed at the TV as an advert for the latest edition of Heat came on.
Chucking Pride and Prejudice at the screen only caused the craving to intensify She tried changing channels and folding her arms. Oh yes, great help. OK, but how about if she didn’t buy a new magazine, just had a little look through an old one instead? That would take the edge off the cravings, wouldn’t it? Except she’dhave to contain herself until she got to work and nabbed one of the tatty old germ-laden cast-offs in the waiting room and she wasn’t working this afternoon ... oh now, hang on, unless there were still a couple lurking around here somewhere that had managed to escape the cull .. .
A light bulb went on inside Sally’s head and she launched herself off the sofa. Because the sofa was the answer! In the bad old days when she’d been forced to tidy up at a moment’s notice, as much excess mess as humanly possible had been squashed into that narrow space between sofa and carpet. Furthermore, because out of sight was completely out of mind, it had never occurred to her to clear the stuff out.
And thank goodness for that! On her hands and knees Sally peered into the dark gap and saw shoes, empty crisp packets, plates, socks, one of her all-time favourite devoré velvet scarves —
yay! — and, oh joy, a scrumpled-up magazine. She reached under the sofa for it, stretching her fingers to the limit
‘What are you doing?’
Sally paused, bottom up in the air. ‘Just looking for my pink scarf.’ She dragged it out, said triumphantly, ‘And here it is! Why, what are you doing?’
‘Admiring the view’ Gabe grinned and gave her bottom a pat. ‘I’m off for a shower, got an appointment with a Page Three girl in Hyde Park.’
‘Lucky you. Will she be naked?’
‘Clothes on. Her agent set it up; it’s for a snatch pose. Which is not what it sounds like.’ He gave her a look as she started to snigger. ‘It means you use a long lens and make the shots look as if they’ve been snatched from a distance. The girl’s going to have a huge fight with her boyfriend at eleven o’clock on the bridge over the Serpentine. If it rains, we’ll shoot it in the café.’
Sally smiled and watched Gabe disappear into the bathroom. The moment the door closed behind him she was burrowing back under the sofa for the magazine ... reeeeach ... oh dear, was this the equivalent of someone who’s given up cigarettes scrabbling about in the gutter for somebody else’s abandoned dog end?
She fell on the magazine with a cry of relief. Dog-eared and battered it may be, but it was only a few weeks old. Still kneeling on the floor, Sally lovingly turned the pages.There was an interview with Nicole Kidman about her latest film. Kate Moss was wearing purple micro shorts and pink polka-dotted Wellingtons — as you do — as she shopped in Knightsbridge. Leonardo di Caprio was photographed playing volleyball on the beach, here was the montage of cellulite shots, there the snaps of unshaven armpits, the soapstars making holy shows of themselves at a party after an awards ceremony. OK, it wasn’t intellectual but it was entertaining and during her darker days she’d drawn huge comfort from knowing that even super-glamorous celebrities could have disastrous love lives too. Not that this applied to her now, ta dah, she no longer needed to surround herself with other people’s misery because she had Gabe and he was everything she’d ever— oh.
Sally’s stomach clenched with recognition as she turned a page and the envelope dropped out of the magazine into her lap. So that was what had happened to it during her fit of frenzied tidying the other week.
She put down the magazine and examined the envelope with Gabe’s name on it. In one way it was nice to have the mystery of its disappearance solved. But it also presented her with a dilemma because she’d never actually mentioned the letter to Gabe.
The temptation was to rip it to shreds and stuff it in thebottom of the kitchen bin. After first reading it, naturally. She knew it was from a female, and that around the time of its delivery Gabe had been in a seriously iffy mood. There was a distinct possibility that the non-arrival of the letter could have had something to do with that.
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