‘For you,’ said Luke, waving his card over the concierge’s palmpad.
‘Thank you, sir. Please contact us downstairs should there be anything you’re not happy with, madam.’
He backed out of the door.
Luke turned to her, his hands on his hips. ‘Luke’s Female Friend Forty-Four? You know that’s all over the building by now, don’t you?’
Jane was very nearly incandescent.
‘I didn’t,’ she said, indignantly. ‘Well, yes, I might have said that to the AI but I thought the stuff would come in your name. After all, you’re paying for it. I’ve never done anything like this before. You should have explained.’
‘Yes, well, never mind all that right now. Let’s see what you’ve got.’
He surveyed the garments now hanging in the wardrobe. ‘Not a lot here, Jane.’
Jane, who thought that actually there was rather a lot there, prevaricated. ‘No, well, it was a bit pricey.’
‘You really haven’t got the hang of being rich at all, have you?’
‘Nor ever likely to.’
He was rifling through the clothes. ‘It’s all a bit . . . black.’
‘It’s my style,’ she said, struck with sudden inspiration.
‘The safe option?’
‘No – understated and classical.’
‘Don’t use the word classical, Jane. It’s fashion shorthand for frumpy.’
‘Nothing that expensive could be frumpy.’
The AI announced yet another caller.
‘That’ll be my stuff,’ said Luke. ‘This is fun, isn’t it? Are you enjoying yourself? There’s nothing like a bit of conspicuous consumption, is there? You get yourself ready and then we’ll go out for something to eat.’ He cast a glance out of the window. ‘It’s chucking it down out there. There’s a restaurant on the top floor. We’ll go there.’
‘Really?’ said Jane, sarcastically. ‘I thought the swimming pool would be up there.’
‘In the basement,’ he said seriously. ‘With the gym, the spa and the cinema. Get a move on, now.’
The hour was unfashionably early and there weren’t that many diners in the penthouse restaurant.
The head waiter seemed overjoyed at Luke’s reappearance. ‘Mr Parrish, welcome back.’
‘Thank you, Giles.’
‘Table for two, sir?’
‘Please. By the window, I think. Jane likes to look at the rain.’
‘Certainly, sir.’
They were escorted to an appropriate table. Jane obediently looked out at the rain.
‘What do you fancy?’ asked Luke, passing his hand over the virtual tablecloth. The menu appeared in glowing copperplate.
‘Oh . . . um . . .’ She stared at Luke helplessly. ‘I don’t think I’m cut out to be rich.’
‘Well, don’t start blushing again. Oh – too late. Look, when the waiter comes back, I’ll order for you because you’re too bored and sophisticated to do it for yourself. How about that? And don’t forget to tell me I can’t have any wine. Now, apparently, I’m talking to you but in reality, I’m scanning the room for anyone I know.’
Jane poured them both some water. The ice clinked expensively. Jane sighed. Her ice never did that. ‘And is there? Anyone you know?’
‘No, don’t think so. Wait, actually, yes. I’m not going to catch his eye. I’ll wait for him to come to me. Which he will because he’s easily the nosiest, most gossipy blabbermouth in town and just what we’re looking for. Could you gaze adoringly at me, please, Jane, and hang on my every word. Yes, that’s very good.’
‘You do know it’s only because we’re both playing a part that I haven’t thrown this very expensive water over you, don’t you?’
‘Actually, I’m banking on it. And here he comes.’
‘Luke? Luke Parrish? Is that you? Dear boy, wherever have you been?’
‘Oh,’ said Luke, ‘I think we both know the answer to that one.’
‘No!’ he exclaimed in delighted concern.
‘’Fraid so. Courtesy of dear old Dad.’ He assumed a very creditable impression of his father’s voice. ‘Pull yourself together, Luke. Stop wasting your life. Can’t go on like this. Sort yourself out or I’ll do it for you.’
‘Dear boy!’
Luke shrugged. ‘Not the first time. Probably won’t be the last either. Although I shouldn’t say that with Little Miss Gaoler here. Jane, meet Alphonse. Alphonse, meet Jane. And for God’s sake don’t look cheerful or she’ll be searching you for happy pills, because that’s what you do, isn’t it, Jane, dear?’
Jane sat back and smiled politely, giving, she hoped, the impression of someone with a job to do and determined to do it whatever the provocation.
‘Delighted to meet you,’ said Alphonse, smiling too brightly and too briefly. He transferred his attention back to Luke. ‘So what are your plans, dear boy, as you pick up the reins again?’
‘Not sure,’ said Luke, frowning at the table. ‘Why can’t I access the wine menu?’
‘Guess,’ said Jane, accepting her cue and feeling it was time she flexed her sober-counsellor muscles.
He sighed. ‘You know what it’s like when you’ve been . . . away . . . Alphonse, the world moves on. So do tell me – where’s hot and where’s not these days?’
‘Ah well . . .’ and he launched into a sea of names, none of which meant anything to Jane. Nor did he mention the King’s Arsenal. She studied him as he talked. Not as young as he looked. Not as wealthy as he looked, either. She looked down at his shoes. Shiny but worn. Which just about summed up Alphonse, she thought. A nasty little man who earned a living enticing young people into things they probably shouldn’t allow themselves to be enticed into. For a fee, obviously. Exactly the sort of person someone fresh from rehab should avoid and definitely someone Luke should cultivate. She should let him get on with it.
‘Do excuse me a moment,’ she said. She smiled at them both and headed for the Ladies, where she washed her hands extremely slowly in the most luxurious restroom she had ever seen. And there were the products to sample, as well. She worked her way slowly down the line. Soap, hand cream, a different type of hand cream, a light perfume . . . Jane anointed herself with everything in sight and then, considering she’d given Luke enough time, made her way slowly back into the restaurant.