My friend rolls her eyes. If I’m not mistaken Chantal would once have been their target customer.
Autumn takes the bag from me and peers inside. ‘What’s this got to do with us?’
‘Weeeell,’ I say. ‘This is what we’re going to do. We’re all going to dress up in sexy underwear and, except Nadia, we’ll hide. When Tarak arrives, just expecting a cosy evening, we all jump out and take photographs of him in compromising positions. Then we’ll threaten to show them to Anita if he doesn’t leave Nadia alone and keep on the straight and narrow.’
They all stare at me, aghast.
‘What?’ I feel my courage waver.
As everyone else seems to have been struck dumb, it’s Chantal who finally manages to speak first. ‘You’re kidding me?’
‘It could work,’ I offer. ‘We’ve pulled off more audacious things.’
Chantal dips into the carrier bag and pulls out a lacy basque and thong set. She holds it high. ‘There is no way on God’s earth that I’m letting myself be seen in public in these.’
‘It’s hardly in public,’ I counter. ‘It’s only us. And we’re all friends together.’
‘I’m packing nearly two stone of baby weight.’ Chantal pats her rounded tummy. ‘I have stretch marks that are like a map of the Andes. This is not going to happen.’
Despite feeling deflated at her lack of solidarity, I refuse to be thwarted. ‘You could take the photographs,’ I suggest.
‘Done,’ she agrees quickly.
Out of my trusty case, I produce Crush’s very fancy camera which I’ve secretly purloined for the specific purpose of taking a decent shot. This is too important to be left to the variable quality of a camera phone. I hand it to Chantal and she grabs it gratefully.
‘What else have you got in there?’ she wants to know.
‘A pair of fluffy handcuffs, a gimp mask and a whip.’
Everyone falls about laughing.
‘What?’ I fear that they’re not taking this seriously.
‘I don’t want Tarak to see me in underwear,’ Nadia says when she’s stopped laughing. ‘It’s bad enough that he looks at me in the way he does now. I don’t want to give him any more reason.’
‘Fair enough.’ Hadn’t thought of that one. Now my confidence really is failing. If that’s Chantal and Nadia out of the picture – literally – what am I going to do?
Chantal continues to pull the skimpy garments out of the carrier bag with a disdainful face. ‘This is a dreadful plan, Lucy. Even for you.’
‘Can you do better, Chantal?’ I sound very peevish. ‘Be my guest.’
She puts down a wisp of black lace with a sheepish expression.
‘I think it’s a great plan,’ Autumn says, enthusiastically.
Hurrah! Finally someone realises that I am not a complete airhead, but a borderline criminal genius.
‘But I can’t wear these either, Lucy. I’ve never had anything like this before. I haven’t the nerve.’ She pulls an apologetic face.
‘So you don’t actually think it’s a good plan?’ Chantal notes.
‘No,’ Autumn confesses. ‘Not really. I’m happy to stay in the background and be supportive, though.’
I realise that this is, indeed, out of her comfort zone. I should have bought Autumn something in cheesecloth or tie-dyed at the very least.
‘That leaves me then,’ I say.
‘That could still work.’ Nadia does a face palm. ‘I can’t believe I just said that. This is how desperate I am.’
‘He might be a total sleazebag,’ Autumn says, ‘but does he really deserve this?’
We all turn on her and say as one, ‘Yes!’
‘Couldn’t we all just sit down and talk it through with him like rational people?’
‘No!’
‘Fine.’ She holds up a hand in submission. ‘Just checking.’
Nadia rallies herself. ‘I’ve tried talking to him and he hasn’t listened. Lucy’s right. It needs something drastic.’
‘This is drastic, all right,’ Chantal agrees.
Nadia paces the floor. ‘What if I’m here to welcome Tarak? Fully dressed. I give him a drink, play nicely. Get him to take his clothes off.’ She shudders just a little bit. ‘I could tell him I’ve brought a friend along to make a threesome. He’d like that. Bastard. Then Lucy – dressed in the hooker underwear – can spring out of the bathroom, and Chantal, you can take some compromising photographs. Just of Tarak and Lucy.’
‘That’s sort of what I’d planned,’ I chip in. Except I wouldn’t be the only one in my skimpies. And the look I’m aiming for is classily sexy rather than hooker.
‘I don’t want to be in any photographs,’ Nadia stresses. ‘How could I ever explain it to Anita if she saw them?’
‘They’re just for insurance. Anita never needs to see them. I hope that if we have evidence of his infidelity to use against him, he’ll leave you alone and also think twice before he does the same with another woman.’
Nadia chews her lip. ‘I don’t know,’ she says. ‘I’m frightened. I don’t know if I can go through with this.’
‘He’ll be here soon,’ Autumn notes. ‘We’d better decide quickly.’
‘While we’re here, let’s give it a go,’ Chantal puts forward. ‘We’ve come this far, we might as well.’
I feel as if this is being taken out of my hands.
‘Lucy, you nip into the bathroom and get yourself kitted up,’ Chantal orders. ‘Make sure that you put the most revealing outfit on. Lots of slutty make-up too.’
I pick up the carrier bag and, a little sulkily, ask, ‘What am I going to do with this lot?’
‘Take it back,’ Chantal says. ‘Just don’t take the labels off. This must have cost you a small fortune.’
‘It will be worth it if it keeps Tarak off Nadia’s back.’
Nadia comes to hug me. ‘I don’t know if this will work, Lucy, but thank you for trying.’ She gives me a hug and kisses my cheek, which puts a smile back on my face.
‘I’d better go and get undressed then.’
‘Yeah,’ Chantal agrees. ‘Great plan. We’ll just stay here and open another bottle of champagne.’
So, with a heavy heart, wondering why I don’t just keep my meddling under control, I take the carrier bag of sexy Siren lingerie and my wheelie case, and then head alone to the bathroom.
Chapter Sixty-Six
I apply another layer of make-up and slick on a bright red lipstick from my bag that I must have bought once for a fancy dress party. Probably something to do with zombies. I’d never wear lipstick this vibrant shade of crimson.
Then I dip into the Sirens carrier bag and pull out the basque, thong and stockings that I’ve chosen for myself. I regard them with an emotion that comes close to horror. What was I thinking? I divest myself of my sensible black trousers and floral blouse and, with much huffing and puffing, squeeze myself into them. Now I know what a sausage must feel like. I slip on my black patent stilettos with the heels that aren’t meant for walking in.
When I risk a tentative look in the full-length mirror, I’m startled at what looks back at me. I think I might even gasp out loud. This underwear is positively obscene. Bits of me pop out everywhere. In my defence, it came across a lot bigger on the hanger.
I emerge from the bathroom more self-conscious than I’d imagined. I’m among friends here. This shouldn’t be intimidating. I try to keep my hands over my boobs and my lady bits.
‘You look fabulous,’ Chantal says.
Then they all burst out laughing.
‘Thank you,’ I say, crossly. ‘Thank you very much.’
‘You look as if you’re on your way for a night on the streets at King’s Cross.’
‘I was aiming slightly higher than that.’ Now I feel dreadful and so exposed. I wish I’d waxed my bikini line.
Nadia comes to comfort me. ‘You’re the only one who has the nerve to do this, Lucy.’
That fact hasn’t escaped me. So much
for the solidarity of the sisterhood.
‘Tarak’s just texted me,’ she adds. ‘He’ll be here any minute.’
‘Give me champagne,’ I say. ‘Quickly.’
Chantal replenishes my glass and hands it to me. I gulp it down.
‘We all need to go and hide in the bathroom,’ Autumn says.
‘I don’t want you to leave me.’ Nadia clings to my arm.
I give her a chocolate and Chantal gives her champagne.
‘You’ll be fine,’ I assure her. ‘You just have to put him at ease.’
‘That’s the bit I’m worried about.’
‘We’ll do the rest.’ By ‘we’, I obviously mean ‘I’.
‘Call me when you want me to come out of the bathroom,’ I say to Nadia, who only stops clinging to me to hug herself protectively.
‘You’ll have to give us a signal for when we’re to spring our little surprise on him,’ Chantal says. ‘You’ll have to say a particular phrase or something.’
‘What about “Are you sitting comfortably?”’ Nadia proposes.
Chantal nods her agreement. ‘Sounds good to me. Don’t forget to say it loudly.’ She glances nervously round the room. ‘We’d better make ourselves scarce.’ She gives Nadia the bottle of champagne. ‘Liquid courage.’
As one, all three of us troop into the bathroom, squeezing tightly together. We close the door behind us.
Chantal is clutching Crush’s camera. ‘Does he know where you are tonight?’
‘No,’ I admit. ‘I think a couple should have some secrets.’
‘Oh, Lucy,’ she smiles. ‘Only you. Only you.’
‘What?’
But before she has a chance to explain, there’s a gentle knock at the hotel room door and, seconds later, it opens.
Chantal looks at me and our eyes meet. There is apprehension in hers and I think there is more than a little fear in mine. To think I could be safely at home stretched out on the sofa in Crush’s arms watching the X-Factor.
‘Game on,’ Chantal whispers and, filled with trepidation, we all fall silent.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Nadia quickly switched on the voice recorder of her mobile phone. Her knees were shaking as she heard Tarak swipe his key card and open the door. She thought Lucy’s plan was, at best, risky. At worse, foolhardy. There was no way that she could see Tarak falling for this. He was a seasoned and serial adulterer, surely he’d be wise to the fact that he’d been conned?
‘I hope you haven’t been waiting for long,’ he said as he came into the room, his usual swagger and smarmy smile firmly in place.
‘Not too long.’ She tried not to glance nervously at the bathroom door behind her and give her friends away. All she had to do was hold her nerve. Easier said than done.
Tarak held out a bottle of champagne. ‘I brought this.’
She held out one too. ‘I’ve already started. I helped myself to the mini-bar.’
Her brother-in-law looked slightly shocked at that, probably considering the price. She splashed champagne into a glass for him.
‘Cheers,’ he said. ‘To us.’
Nadia sucked in a deep breath. This was torture. She knocked back her champagne and, steeling herself, let her fingers go to the buttons of his shirt.
‘Keen,’ Tarak said.
Nadia bit down a wave of revulsion. If only Anita could hear him now. She might think differently about what a good and loving husband he was. ‘We don’t have long.’
‘I knew that you’d be more enthusiastic than you are in the shop.’
‘I want this to be a night that you’ll never forget,’ she said as huskily as she could manage.
He laughed, but there was a frown on his forehead. ‘You make it sound as if this will be the only time.’
‘Let’s see what happens. I might be more than you can handle.’
He grinned at her. ‘It’s that spirit in you that’s always attracted me. You’re so much more woman than your sister.’
Nadia wanted to slap his stupid face. She held a finger to his lips. ‘Let’s not talk about Anita.’
Tarak shrugged and she put down her glass. She hoped that Lucy was ready and waiting in the bathroom. The sooner they got this over with the better.
‘Do you do this often?’ she asked.
‘When I can,’ he admitted without shame. ‘A man has needs.’
The neck of his shirt was already undone, so Nadia moved her hand down to the next button and opened it.
‘I’m discreet,’ he said. ‘You can trust me.’
Trust. It was clear that Tarak didn’t even know the meaning of the word. However, he was about to find out that he couldn’t trust her. Nadia seethed inside. Then Tarak moved forward to kiss her and a gulp of terror travelled down her throat. Oh, this was a bad idea. A very bad idea. She would kill Lucy for getting her into this situation.
Nadia fumbled with another button.
Tarak smiled. ‘I didn’t know you’d be in such a hurry.’
‘Why waste time?’
‘We’re of the same mind.’ He put his glass down and rapidly undid his own buttons.
His body beneath was soft and mildly overweight. His pot belly sat on the belt of his trousers. It was repulsive. What did her sister see in him?
Nadia tugged at his belt and Tarak ran his hand over her breast. She shuddered and Tarak took it as desire rather than disgust.
He kicked off his shoes and it took seconds to divest him of his trousers. He stood there looking pathetic in his boxer shorts and socks.
‘I have a surprise for you,’ she purred. ‘I thought I’d have someone join us.’
‘Join us?’ Tarak raised an eyebrow. ‘Who?’
‘A friend of mine. I think you’ll like her.’
‘A threesome?’
‘Would you like that?’
‘It wouldn’t be the first time,’ he boasted. ‘For you?’
‘I’m very close to my friends,’ she said as she pushed Tarak down onto the bed. If she was in her right mind, she’d stop this now and run for the hills.
But she wasn’t and there was no other plan in place to stop Tarak’s harassment of her. Well, what you reaped was generally what you had sown by your own selfishness. Tarak most definitely was due a dose of humiliation and it might as well be her that administered it. Having got this far, there was no going back now.
‘Lucy!’ she shouted. ‘Come and join us.’
Chapter Sixty-Eight
I stand there in the bathroom in nothing but my underwear – and not much of it at that – frozen with fright.
‘Get out there, Lombard,’ Chantal hisses. ‘Take one for the team. Deep breaths, deep breaths.’
I look to Autumn for succour.
‘Rather you than me,’ she whispers, with a pitying expression on her face.
This all seemed like such a good idea when I thought we’d all burst out of the bathroom en masse in our skimpies and execute my plan. Doesn’t seem such a good scheme now that it’s me on my tod.
Chantal gives me an encouraging shove. At least that’s what I think it is. ‘Let’s get this over with.’
‘Nadia will be desperate for you to get out there,’ Autumn says.
She will. And I must do this for her. Particularly as it was my stupid idea. I take the deep breaths that Chantal advised, but it makes no difference at all. None. I’m still borderline hyperventilating and my heart is pounding in my chest.
‘Be sexy,’ Chantal says. ‘Otherwise he’ll smell a rat.’
‘You’re so much better at this sort of thing than me,’ I tell her. ‘I’m not a natural femme fatale.’
‘Yes, and I look like a blimp, so get out there and be fabulous.’ Then she hugs me fiercely. ‘Come on. You can do this.’
At that moment my phone pings and they all go, ‘Sssshhh!’
‘It’s Crush,’ I whisper. Oh, God bless him. The love of my life is going to make me a romantic dinner for when I get home. I’d envisaged collec
ting a takeaway in Camden High Street. How lovely is he?
I start to text back.
‘You haven’t got time for that,’ Chantal says and grabs my phone from my hand.
Autumn yanks open the door and Chantal hands me the whip and the fluffy handcuffs, and suddenly I’m in the bedroom with Nadia. There is terror in her eyes too and we give each other a comforting glance. Then a smile breaks out on her face and that makes me relax as well. She puts her hand over her mouth to hide the laughter that threatens to erupt. The stupidity of what we’re doing hits us both, I think.
Sitting on the bed is a rather podgy middle-aged man. He’s wearing just his boxer shorts, socks and a creepy grin. This must be the troublesome Tarak. He doesn’t look that troublesome. He looks a little bit pathetic and desperate. But he also looks as if he thinks his birthday and Christmas have come together. That makes me more determined to see this through.
‘Hello, Gorgeous,’ he says in an oily manner.
I hate that he uses the same pet name that Crush has for me. Then I get a pang of guilt. If Crush could see me now he’d be flipping furious. And maybe a bit beyond. That’s why I haven’t told him, of course.
Whip over my shoulder, I saunter towards the bed, trying to look alluring. ‘Are you sitting comfortably?’
Then Chantal bursts out of the bathroom door, camera raised. Tarak looks as if he’s about to have a heart attack – which wasn’t quite in the plan. She makes me and Nadia jump like scalded cats too.
‘You’re not doing anything!’ Chantal complains. ‘Why did you say that?’
Omigod, I’d forgotten ‘Are you sitting comfortably?’ was to be our key phrase for action. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
‘Do something,’ she shouts.
Quickly, while Tarak still looks like a rabbit caught in the headlights, I dash to his side and, before he realises what I’m doing, I pose against him. He’s too startled to complain or move. I hitch my breasts and point them towards the camera, giving my best duck pout. I put my high-heeled foot on Tarak’s naked thigh.
Chantal snaps away with the camera while I drape myself this way and that over the hapless brother-in-law.
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