Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
A n hour later, as I’m leaving the bank, I’m pleased to note that Mr Cocky himself, James, is nowhere to be seen. And as I’m in town, I decide to pick up a few things I need before returning to Cat’s place.
‘How was your meeting?’ She pounces on me the moment I walk through the door. ‘Tell me everything.’ It’s clear from the fact that she’s still in her work gear that she’s only arrived home minutes before me.
‘It went great. Or as great as it can when you’ve soiled the lottery adviser’s outfit within minutes of her arriving.’ I wince at the memory.
‘You what?’
‘Never mind. That’s not important. As I said, it went great. The money’s in my account, and thanks to a very helpful Assistant Bank Manager, I’ve even just had a meeting with a financial adviser.’
‘Check you.’ Cat looks impressed. ‘That was sensible doing it so quickly.’
‘It was more out of feeling vulnerable having that amount of cash sitting in my current account if I’m honest. But Vivienne recommended I do it, and I realised on the way home that it should help to keep my parents at bay as well, so it was doubly beneficial.’
We each have a quick shower and then I go through to Cat’s room so I can fill her in on my day while getting ready to go out for dinner.
‘That’s so exciting,’ she says, when I’ve given her a chunky summary of Vivienne’s visit and my meeting with the Financial Adviser. ‘Everything is really turning around for you, isn’t it?’
‘It certainly seems that way.’ I flash her a guilty grin, as if somehow, I don’t deserve it. ‘Though there was one thing that didn’t go so well. Do you remember how I told you about the annoying guy in the shop on D-day night?’
‘The one who wanted to be your babysitter in the park?’
‘Yeah, him. Well, I only went and bumped into him again today, didn’t I?’ I roll my eyes at the injustice of this. ‘In the bloody bank queue, where I had no chance of escape – not without losing my place in the queue anyway.’
‘ Yikes. What happened?’ Cat pauses mid-way through applying her lipstick to give me her full attention.
‘He got my back up again . Was all smarmy and superior. Made out he was just a concerned citizen and even pretended to flirt with me, all for the purpose of entertaining himself and making me look stupid.’
‘Hmm… that’s not so good. But… are you sure he wasn’t actually flirting with you?’
‘I really don’t think so, but who knows?’ I wave my eyeliner like it’s the tail of an irritated cat. ‘If it was an attempt at flirting then he can get lost. He gives off major Dave vibes so he’s best given a very wide berth.’
‘Got it.’ Cat nods and turns back to the mirror. ‘Here’s hoping you won’t cross paths again.’
‘Absolutely. Though, in a city this size, what are the chances of that happening?’
At seven p.m., Cat and I walk through the door of Chez Nicolas – a stylish French bistro in the West End – and see that Amber and Sara have already arrived.
Cat joins them at the table, while I catch a passing waiter, and discreetly ask him to ignore the drinks order from our table and prepare a couple of bottles of Champagne – the first to be served on my signal once we’ve ordered.
‘So, what’s the occasion?’ Amber demands, before my backside has even hit the seat.
‘What do you mean? And hi to you too.’ I do my best to look innocent, which under the circumstances is very difficult.
‘I mean, why are we in our favourite restaurant on a random Thursday? And while you’re still signed off sick?’
‘Thanks for the reminder.’ I purse my lips, while self-consciously glancing around the restaurant at the other diners. ‘I’m already feeling super guilty and paranoid about that. This seemed like a great idea until I thought about being spotted out by someone from my work.’
‘Hey, honey… we talked about this on the way here.’ Cat reaches across the table, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. ‘You’re just getting yourself out doing things like this again. Anxiety is something you have to address with small steps forward in a safe environment. We’re that safe environment, so you have nothing to feel guilty about.’
‘ Anyway …’ Amber’s impatience takes over. ‘It’s clear there’s something going on. I can smell it. You’re not pregnant, are you? Or, wait a minute… you’re not back together with that selfish prick? That would be no cause for celebration whatsoever.’
She’s clearly back to her normal self again.
‘No, I’m not pregnant. And I’m not back with Dave either – I haven’t even heard from him. But thanks for the care and concern.’ I feel suddenly deflated. ‘I may be doing better, but I’m still far from over him. And everything that happened. That’s going to take a while.’
I’m aware of Amber getting a gentle kick under the table from Cat, which makes me smile. My bestie has become a proper minder.
‘Anyway.’ I gather myself together. ‘I just thought it would be nice to catch up, so please can we relax and have a laugh tonight?’
I hope my attempt at evasion works. I only need about fifteen minutes.
‘Whatever works for you, girlfriend.’ Sara slings a comforting arm around my shoulder while pulling her compact mirror from her purse to check her pristine makeup, no doubt for the hundredth time today. ‘It’s fabulous to have you back.’
‘It really is.’ Cat raises her water glass, and as we’re clinking, the waiter appears.
After we order, a fizz of nerves erupts in my stomach and the moment that I’ve been so looking forward to becomes a bit daunting. What if Amber and Sara aren’t as happy for me as I think they’ll be? After all, it’s me that’s won, not them. Do people actually like hearing about the good fortune of others ?
I glance at Cat. She’s clearly trying to send me a telepathic message. She grabs her phone and starts typing, then a few seconds later my phone buzzes. I read her message.
What are you waiting for? You’re going to miss your moment. And the girls are expecting drinks that aren’t going to arrive!
She’s right, but before I can reply, another message comes in.
And stop worrying! They won’t think you’re boasting or selfish. They’ll be nothing but happy for you.
Cat’s mind-reading powers are clearly on point. Though, to be fair, she probably knows me better than I know myself.
Giving her another fleeting (and grateful) look, I catch the waiter’s attention and signal to him to bring the Champagne in five minutes’ time. He salutes back with a little wink.
When I tune back into the conversation, Sara and Amber are chatting away about some A-lister’s latest affair.
‘Awww, sweetie, you’re so naive.’ Sara pushes her long blonde hair behind her shoulders. ‘Celebrities go into the world of fame knowing that they’ll be cheated on and that their relationships won’t last. That’s the trade-off for being in the limelight and earning a packet. Also, we live in the twenty-first century. Marriage isn’t the sacred and eternal act it used to be. ’
‘Huh-uh, that’s bullshit.’ Amber scoffs. ‘Cheating is so low and especially the way he’s done it. Women should be given the right to inflict castration as a punishment. That would be the perfect deterrent for slippery schmucks like Leo Perrera.’
I feel lighter as I allow myself to be entertained by the familiar pattern of their conversation – two super confident women with very different views on life. Taking a deep breath, I clear my throat.
‘Erm, ladies. Can I interrupt for a second?’
They both stop and look at me.
‘I actually do have something I’d like to share with you. Some good news.’
‘ I knew it. You’re bloody pregnant, aren’t you?’ Amber unhelpfully broadcasts, causing the other diners nearby to turn and stare at us curiously.
‘No, I’m not pregnant, you idiot.’ My heart hammers in response to the unwanted attention. ‘But thanks for telling the whole restaurant I am.’
‘So, what is it, Emma? What’s the big news?’ Sara asks.
‘It’s… well…’ I’ve rehearsed this in my head, but now that the moment’s here, my memory has completely failed me.
‘Gonna just spit it out,’ says Amber. ‘The way you’re behaving you’d think you’d won the freakin’ lottery or something.’
‘Erm... well...’ I splutter, unable to believe that inadvertently she’s guessed it.
Cat giggles and I decide I have to ditch the speech.
‘Well, actually, that’s kind of it.’
‘Um… what’s kind of it?’ Sara looks flummoxed.
‘What Amber said.’ I shrug. ‘On D-day night, I bought a UK Lottery ticket with my last couple of quid because a shopkeeper said I was due some luck. And… it came good. I won over three-quarters of a million pounds.’
For a moment, no one says anything. Amber and Sara survey me with sceptical expressions.
‘It wasn’t the jackpot,’ I rush to add, feeling flustered by their appraising eyes. ‘But it was the second biggest prize.’
There’s another lengthy pause while the two of them take in what I’ve said.
‘ Yeah, right .’ Amber opts for dismissing my claim.
‘Ha, good one,’ Sara gives a tinkling laugh. ‘You nearly had us there. So, what’s the real news?’
This is certainly not the reaction I expected, though I guess I can understand it.
‘It’s not a joke.’ I lean forward, elbows on the table. ‘I’m deadly serious. Ask Cat.’
Their faces blanch as they look from me to Cat and she nods.
‘It’s true,’ she confirms. ‘I was there. Emma’s a near millionaire.’
The stunned silence lasts another few seconds, before it’s broken.
‘ You lucky cow! ’ Amber cries, this time earning herself dirty looks from other diners.
‘ Wow! Nice one, sweetie.’ Sara looks seriously impressed. ‘I’m well jel.’
‘Thanks, I still can’t quite believe it myself.’ I can’t help grinning from ear to ear.
‘So, what’s the deal?’ Amber asks.
‘The deal?’
‘Exactly how much have you won? And more importantly, are you sure you’ve won? You’ll look like a right dumbass if you’ve got it wrong.’
‘Oh, I’ve been through all that already, believe me.’ I cringe, thinking back to my idiotic behaviour on the phone with Sumaira from the UK Lottery helpline. ‘I checked and re-checked about two-hundred times. The lottery adviser visited me today and the money cleared in my bank account not long before I got here.’
I quickly fill them in on the rest of the story, during which Amber’s jaw drops further and further towards the floor. Sara takes it more in her stride, giving me recommendations for upcoming designer sales and her favourite premium makeup products. She also teases Amber for acting like a star-struck teenager, while Amber retaliates with her usual choice language.
‘So, anyway…’ I round things off. ‘I obviously wanted to tell you my good news. But I also wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support over the last few weeks.’ I try to ignore Amber sticking her fingers down her throat.
‘It’s no big deal.’ Sara shrugs, while simultaneously applying her lip gloss and tutting at Amber. ‘That’s what friends do.’
‘I know. But I honestly don’t think I’d have got through it without your visits and messages of support. At least, not nearly as quickly as I did. So, to show my gratitude, dinner is on me. And…’ I signal to our waiter, who canters across enthusiastically. ‘So is the Champagne.’
‘Ooh, I love Champagne,’ Sara coos. ‘You’re really spoiling us, Emma.’
‘Honey, I thought you were going to follow the lottery adviser’s advice and buy something affordable, like prosecco.’ Cat is anxiously leafing through the wine menu. ‘That’s… one hundred and twenty-five pounds a bottle .’
‘Hey, Cat,’ says Amber. ‘How about… shut the hell up . This is awesome. Bring on the Champagne!’
‘It’s fine,’ I reassure Cat. ‘I’ve got the money now and it’s hardly going to make a dent in my winnings. I want this to be a proper celebration.’
The waiter discreetly pops the cork, pours us each a glass, then places the bottle in a free-standing ice bucket and disappears. For a moment, I’m hypnotised by the effervescence of the bubbles and what they represent.
‘ Speech! ’ Amber shocks me back to reality.
‘What? No, definitely not. I don’t do speeches.’
‘Come on, girlfriend,’ Sara urges me. ‘This is a huge moment for you. At least make a toast.’
‘OK, I can do that, I suppose.’ I smile and my three friends beam back at me. ‘To… an incredible change of luck?’ I hold up my glass.
‘ To an incredible change of luck. ’ Their chorus is punctuated by the clinking of our flutes.
I take a sip and savour it. The Champagne is fruity, dry and beautifully chilled. And right now – probably more because of what it represents than anything – I’d say that it’s the most heavenly drink I’ve ever tasted.
‘Hey, Emma.’ Amber elbows me in the ribs, interrupting my zen. ‘I want to make a toast too.’
‘Erm… OK. But please keep it reasonably clean.’
‘ Obviously. ’ She rolls her eyes.
She makes a show of composing herself. ‘To Emma’s brand-new start. I couldn’t have wished this to happen to a better person…’
‘Aww, thank you, Amber.’ I’m genuinely touched by her sincere gesture.
‘Wait, I’m not done.’ She holds up her hand to keep us silent, then resumes her speech-making posture. ‘Especially as Dave the wank stain is out of the picture and won’t be getting a penny of it. ’
I choke on my Champagne. Cat and Sara both eyeball Amber with disapproving looks, and then turn quickly to me to check I’m OK.
‘Oh, why not,’ I concede. ‘Nothing’s going to get to me today.’
We clink glasses again, doing our best to chant a repeat of Amber’s rather longwinded and totally un-PC toast.
What follows is lots of cheering and whooping, random toasts – which become more obscure the merrier we get – and some really good chat.
After much coaxing, we manage to get out of Cat that there’s a new bloke on the scene. I can’t believe I’m living with her and I didn’t even know that. Apparently, they’re two dates in and it seems to be going well. She doesn’t give us any real juice, though, despite some rather disconcerting interrogation tactics from Amber. Sara shares the gossip from the office, none of which includes any evidence (or even hints) of her alleged affair. I chat a bit about how I’m feeling after my break-up, but that conversation is short-lived due to a lack of tolerance from Amber. Finally, Amber rounds things off with her regular husband assassination slot, which is more about the comedic delivery than any real issues within her marriage.
There’s also another obvious subject that keeps coming up – my new-found wealth. But I try to steer the conversation in other directions so that it’s not all about me.
I’m so happy that my friends are pleased for me, and that they’re accepting my token of gratitude. Broken heart aside, it’s one of the best moments I can remember (as well as a well-timed distraction). And I get to celebrate again tomorrow with Aunt Lottie.
Before we leave the restaurant, I take a quick trip to the ladies, and I’m drying my hands, when a voice comes out of nowhere.
‘Well, what do we have here? Little miss I’m-too-heartbroken-over-my-split-from-my-boyfriend-to-turn-up-for-work.’
It seems my luck has run out. I turn and find myself face to face – with my boss.