The Billionaire Banker Page 9

Lana steps away from her mother. She puts her hand into her pocket and brings out bits of blue shell. ‘I brought you a blue egg.’

  Her mother tries, she really tries hard, but a giggle breaks through. For a few moments Lana can only stare at the rare spectacle of her mother stifling laughter. Then she too cracks up.

  ‘Take that jacket off and go wash your hand,’ her mother finally says. ‘I’l make us a fresh pot of tea and we’ll have some of those nice biscuits you brought.’

  ‘They are nice, aren’t they?’ Lana agrees, slipping off her soiled jacket and walking towards the sink.

  Lana is wiping her hands on a tea towel when her mother says, ‘And you’ll have to bring that nice man— Blake Barrington, did you say?—over to dinner.’

  ‘Uh, yeah… When you get back from your treatment.’

  Her mother stops and looks at her. ‘I’m going to meet that young man before I get on the plane and I’ll have no more said on the matter,’ she says firmly.

  While they are having their tea Lana tells her mother about the appointment she has made for a wig fitting in Selfridges.

  Unconsciously her mother puts her right hand up to her scarf. ‘Oh,’ she says. ‘Will that be very expensive?’

  Lana grins. ‘We’re not paying for it.’

  And her mother laughs. For the first time in many months, her mother throws back her head and laughs.

  ‘That’s good. That’s very good,’ and while she is laughing she begins to cry. When Lana goes to hold her, she takes a deep, steadying breath and says, ‘I know what you have done for me. You have used your body as a begging bowl.’

  For a moment Lana is struck dumb by her mother’s perceptiveness. Then her great, great love for her mother intervenes and she lies and lies and lies. ‘You only say that because you have not met Blake yet. He is beautiful and strong and kind. It was love at first sight. When I told him about you, he gave double what he knew I needed.’

  Her mother sighs. ‘I pray to God that I will be alive for your wedding.’

  Lana feels the hollowness spread into her body. It doesn’t matter, she tells herself fiercely. So what if her mother will be disappointed? All that counts is her mother will be cured. She will forget this one in time and marry someone else, another who will not consider her so lowly c 1 3 d

  that she is only fit to be hidden away like a dirty little secret. Someone with a beautiful heart like Jack.

  Yes, someone like Jack.

  Fourteen

  ana leaves her mother’s house and going past Billie’s Ldoor runs two floors down and rings Jack’s mother’s doorbell. While she is waiting for the door to be opened she looks down the railing, and sees Fat Mary browning herself into an uneven shade of lobster. Fat Mary is a big woman who lives in the corner downstairs flat and sunbathes topless in her garden even though it is overlooked by all the other flats in the block. Every Friday night she makes her hair big, stuffs herself into a tight dress and high heels, and goes to the Irish nightclub on Kilburn high street to find herself a bloke to bring home. Like clockwork they slip out of her door, all sheepish before lunch on Saturday. Al the little boys on bicycles always call out, ‘Hey, Mary, how’s your mary?’ Her fat face never alters as she shows them her middle finger.

  Jack’s mother’s face appears at the kitchen window.

  ‘Oh, hello, dear,’ she says with a smile, before she comes to open the door. She has the same beautiful eyes fringed by thick sooty lashes as Jack.

  ‘Hi, Fiona. Mum sent you some cake.’

  ‘How lovely. How is she feeling today?’

  ‘It’s a good day today.’

  ‘That’s good. Would you like to come in, dear?’

  ‘Nah, I’ve got to run.’

  ‘Well, you run along, then.’

  ‘See you later,’ Lana says and turning begins to walk away.

  ‘Lana?’

  She turns back around. ‘Yeah?’

  Fiona hesitates and Lana hitches her bag higher up her shoulder and takes two steps towards her. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I…um…heard…you…ah…found yourself…a…boyfriend.

  A rich boyfriend,’ she says anxiously.

  Lana shifts from one foot to the other. ‘I just met him, Fiona. I wouldn’t call him a boyfriend just yet. It might not work out.’

  Fiona’s timid face falls. It is obvious she has been hoping that the rumor going around is not true. Her voice is very tiny. ‘You will be careful, won’t you, my dear? I wouldn’t say anything normally, but you’ve always been such an innocent thing. And I thought to myself, even if I come across as an interfering, old busybody, I’ve got to say something.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘You know, I’ve always said you are the most beautiful girl on this estate, if not in all of Kilburn, and you should have become a c 1 6 d

  model, but rich men are greedy. One is never ever enough for them.’

  Lana puts her rucksack on the concrete floor and leaning forward hugs the woman. ‘Thank you for caring, Fiona. I don’t know how I would have coped all these years if not for Jack, Billie and you.’

  Fiona hugs her tightly. ‘Oh, child, you are like my own daughter to me. What you did for Jack; I’ve never thanked you.’

  Lana untangles herself from Fiona. ‘What I did for Jack? It is I who should thank Jack. He’s taken care of me and fought my battles since the day I arrived.’

  ‘He will never talk about it, but the year you arrived was the year his father died. And he became quite unmanageable and surly. He began to run with a gang who stole, carried knives and drank alcohol across the railroads. I was afraid for him, afraid that he would turn out like all the other boys on the estate—jobless drunks and drug addicts. But then your family moved in and suddenly he changed. He took over the job of being your older brother, and suddenly I got my caring, beautiful son back and now he’s going to escape this terrible estate and become a doctor.’ Tears filled her lovely eyes.

  ‘If I was useful to him then I am glad, because I don’t know what my life would have been like without him.’

  Fiona smiles proudly at the thought of her good son.

  ‘I’ve got to go, but I’ll be around tomorrow with a box of biscuits like you’ve never tasted before.’

  ‘Oooo.’

  Lana laughs. ‘More like oo la la… They’re French.’

  ‘Goodbye, dear girl.’

  Lana waves, and runs up the stairs. Her phone rings and she stops to answer it. It is Mrs. Arnold calling to say she has booked an eight thirty table for Lana and Blake at The Fat Duck. She reminds Lana to be ready by 7.30pm.

  ‘Thanks,’ says Lara. She ends the calls and thinks, ‘I’ve been reduced to another appointment in his diary.’

  Halfway up the second flight of stairs she hears Kensington Parish call out to her. She pops her head over the side railing and sees that he is standing at his bedroom window at almost eye level to her.

  ‘What’s up, Kensington?’

  ‘Hey, Lana,’ he says. ‘Do you think your man will let me have a ride in that car of his?’

  ‘Unlikely,’ she says and carries on running up the stairs even though she hears him shout pleadingly, ‘Oh! Come on, Lana. You haven’t even asked. It’s a 0-77. It’s custom made, Lana. Come on… Lana?’

  Billie’s door is open and her mother is outside watering her hanging baskets of colorful plants.

  ‘She’s in her bedroom,’ she says, by way of greeting.

  ‘Thanks,’ Lana says, and runs up the worn blue carpet.

  She knocks once and enters. Billie is using up a can of hairspray on her hair. The room is choking with the stuff.

  ‘Jesus, how can you bear to breathe this stuff?’

  ‘Open the window if it bothers you.’

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  Lana opens the window and takes a deep breath before facing the synthetic smell in the room. Thankfully, Billie has finished. Her white hair has now been sprayed into a stiff man’s pompadour that will survive the greatest gust of
wind. She looks at her reflection with satisfaction. Then she turns away from the mirror, switches off her small telly, and goes to sit on the bed. She pats the space next to her. Lana sits next to her and puts her bag down.

  ‘Well, spit it out then. What was it like?’

  ‘It was awful.’

  ‘What? Sex with the loaded hunk was awful?’

  ‘Can we talk about it in a minute? I need to talk to you about some important stuff first.’

  ‘No problems.’

  ‘You are still OK to travel to the States with my mum, aren’t you?’

  ‘Of course. Are you kidding me? I’d never get another chance like this. All paid.’

  ‘Good. I’ll sort the tickets out so you travel out on Wednesday. And Mum has an entire day to recover before her appointment on Friday. You don’t have to babysit her the whole time. Go out sightseeing and do the touristy thing. You’ll have to accompany her to the doctor, though.’

  ‘Cool.’

  ‘Oh! Before I forget. I brought something for you.’

  She digs into her bag and fetches the jar of blackberry jam.

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  Billie takes it from her. ‘Posh jam? Wow, I’ve never had anything like this before.’ She reaches over, opens a drawer and gets a spoon. She twists open the lid and dips her spoon into it. ‘Wow, you get to have awful sex and I get to go to America and eat jam from Harrods. Brilliant.

  How long is your contract for, again?’

  ‘Three months.’

  ‘Are you sure you can’t increase it?’

  ‘Billie, don’t be such a witch.’

  She spoons more jam. ‘Can we talk about your awful sex now?’

  ‘He left as soon as he found out that I hadn’t been with anyone else. I was pathetic, Bill. I lay there like a lemon.’

  ‘How do you mean? Didn’t you have sex?’

  ‘Sort of. As soon as he entered I sort of gasped in shock.

  It was so sudden and…well, painful, and he pulled out double quick.’

  ‘What?’

  Lana bites her lip. ‘It was so embarrassing. He just stopped and left.’

  ‘What do you mean left?’

  ‘He got dressed and left.’

  ‘And said nothing?’

  ‘He said, “It’ll be better next time.’

  ‘Fuck me. He didn’t finish?’

  ‘No,’ Lana said uncertainly. ‘Is that very bad?’

  ‘Bad! He sounds totally fucked up. Nobody stops halfway for no good reason.’ She chews her cheek and leans forward eagerly. ‘Tell me what happened before he did the deed.’

  Lana squirms. ‘Well, he had me dress up in a white frock with white underwear and white stockings.’

  ‘Oh. My. God,’ Billie hoots and begins to cackle madly.

  ‘He wanted a whore that he could pretend was a virgin, but when he found he had the real thing in his bed he freaked out and ran away. That is so funny.’

  ‘It’s not, actually.’

  Billie sobers with impressive speed. ‘Sorry, yeah it’s not.’‘Bill, will you teach me some techniques?’

  ‘I don’t know what I can teach you. I don’t do cock, remember?’

  Then she looks at Lana’s distraught face and grins.

  ‘OK, let’s start with foreplay. Foreplay waist up has to be pretty similar, right?’

  ‘OK,’ Lana says.

  ‘The ear is wickedly horny. All kinds of things can happen when it is given a bit of attention. Run your finger along the rim like this.’ She runs her finger along the rim of her own ear. ‘Sometimes you can lick your finger first and afterwards gently blow on the wet rim. But the best effect can be achieved if you nibble your way gently all the way down to the lobe and then suddenly stick your tongue into his ear. If done properly that should drive him crazy.’

  ‘Really?’ Lana says doubtfully.

  ‘You should practice on someone else. I’d let you practice on me, but I might start to really fancy you and that would be too weird.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘When you brush your teeth in the mirror in the mornings do you ever look at yourself? You’re fucking stunning, Lana. If I met you in a club, yeah, I’d jump your bones. How about Jack?’

  ‘No, Jack is pissed off with me. He doesn’t say it, but he thinks what I’ve done is no better than what a prostitute does.’

  Billie looks sideways at Lana. ‘I admire you for what you have done.’

  ‘Oh well, he doesn’t.’

  ‘He’s just mad because he’s always had this older brother, dead protective complex about you. But the truth is we are all prostitutes. Some women will put out for an expensive dinner, another for a ring on her finger, another for a better lifestyle. You did it to save your mother.

  That’s a whole lot better than the rest of us, I’d say.’

  ‘Thanks, Bill.’

  ‘Oh, there is another thing you can do to banker boy.

  You can tie him up! You’d need a metal bed or a four-poster, of course. This bed here would be useless. I once tied Leticia to her bed and it was real good. I told her to strip naked then I blindfolded her and trussed her to the four corners of the bed. And while she was lying there full of anticipation, I calmly told her I was going out to the shops to get some chocolate and was going to leave her bedroom door open. God, you should have seen the way she begged and then swore at me.’ She chuckles gleefully.

  ‘Her mother had said she would be back in twenty minutes, you see. I stuffed her knickers in her mouth and went out. Made sure to close the front door with a bang too.’Lana’s mouth drops open. ‘That was some chance you took. What if her mother had come back and found her tied spread-eagled and naked on her bed?’

  ‘Nah, I had met her mother going up the lift and she told me to tell Leticia that she was going to the hairdresser after and would be at least an hour.’

  ‘Was Leticia mad at you?’

  ‘Mad at me. She was quivering like a school dinner pudding. I stuck the Yorkie bar up her fanny and ate it off her. She said it was the best orgasm she’s ever had.’

  Lana laughs. ‘Oh, Billie. Somehow I don’t think he’s going to let me tie him to a bed.’

  ‘You can still try the blindfold. It increases the sensation when you can’t see. You could suggest a game.

  Put the egg timer on and he who comes first loses. When it’s his turn, blindfold him and give him the best sucking he’s ever had.’

  ‘OK, maybe, I’ll try that.’

  ‘Let me know how it goes, won’t you?’ Billie says with a smile.

  Lana looks at her watch. ‘I’ve got to pop into the employment agency so they can tell tear a strip off me for inappropriately offering myself to one of their clients, but before I go; you know the extra money Blake gave me? I’ve decided I want you to have half.’

  Billie’s eyes widen. It takes a moment for her to find her voice again. ‘I’ll take the free trip and I’ll take the jam, but I’m not taking the money.’

  ‘Remember when we were kids and we used to say if we won the lottery we’d share the money. Well… Isn’t this like winning the lottery?’

  Billie smiles at Lana. ‘This isn’t the lottery. Besides, what would I do with money?’

  ‘You could go get your boobs done.’

  ‘Very tempting, but…‘

  ‘No buts. Do you want me to turn into one of those people who are generous only when they don’t believe they will ever have the money? Would you give me half if our positions were reversed?’

  Billie thinks and grimaces. ‘To be honest I don’t know what I’d do. I think I’m just like everyone else, I want to go out, get wasted out of my mind and have fun, but you’ve always been different. You used to save up to buy violets when you were a child and take the bus to see paintings in the National Gallery. That was probably why I was drawn to you then, even though you wore boring clothes and actually read books instead of waiting for the movie version.’

  ‘While you painted
the toenails of your gerbil bright red…’

  ‘Hamster,’ Billie corrects, and laughs.

  ‘Whatever. I know you’re on the dole and can’t show that you have too much in the way of savings so I’ve opened an account in my name at the Abbey and here’s the card. Use it as it is yours.’

  Fifteen

  he is fastening her hoop earrings when she hears his Skey in the door. Her stomach in knots, she stands away from the dressing table and looks at herself. She is wearing her Pucci dress. The colors look good with her hair. She knows she has never looked so fine, but her heart is in her mouth. She is so nervous her hands are clammy.

  She wipes them and rubs lotions into them. Then she slips into her beautiful new Jimmy Choos and leaves the bedroom.

  She turns into the paneled corridor and hears him in the sitting room. He is looking down on the lighted view of London and has not heard her footfalls on the soft carpets. It is only when her reflection shows in the glass that he turns.

  The crease of his pants leg looks very sharp and his shoes are beautifully polished. Her eyes move upwards.

  He is wearing a navy suit and an open soft blue shirt. Her gaze travels to his brown, strong throat towards the deliciously straight mouth and up to his eyes; dark and hooded and so full of secrets. They are watching her intently. Her breath catches. The flowers he sent are behind him.

  ‘Thank you, for the flowers. They are beautiful.’

  ‘Come here,’ he says and half sits on the table behind him. His voice is very soft. There is something in it she does not understand. She is nineteen and he is a man of the world. She goes willingly to him. He catches her by her waist and pulls her to him until she is trapped between his thighs. She feels the heat that comes off his body.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I didn’t know.’

  She shakes her head. ‘You weren’t to know. It’s my fault. I should have warned you.’

  ‘You look very beautiful tonight.’

  She blushes. He watches her blush, then runs his finger along her lower lip. ‘Are you for real?’ he whispers.

  She looks at him without comprehension. He wants to tell her then. But what? Tell her what? There is nothing to say. They are worlds apart. This will end in three months. He is being a fool. The expression in his eyes changes.