by Lynda Renham
I know everyone well enough thank you very much and have no desire to get to know Nathan better, although I can tell by the way he is looking at me that he would like to get to know me better.
‘Sounds great,’ says William shaking Muffy’s hand.
‘Nathan Richards,’ says the poser, offering his hand. I take it reluctantly. He squeezes my hand for an eternity and I make several attempts to free myself from his vice-like grip but he just squeezes more. Don’t you just hate that?
‘I’m Will’s accountant, so I assure you that he can afford dinner and you’re not thirty every day.’
I glare at Muffy. She told him I was thirty?
‘Binki, what a lovely name,’ he continues.
Oh well, maybe he’s not so bad after all. At least I can keep an eye on William and won’t have to worry about him doing the dirty on me, and it will be a free dinner.
‘What do you think?’ asks Muffy.
‘Yes, sounds great,’ I agree.
Chapter Nineteen
Muffy has eyes for no one but William. Honestly, put a good-looking man in front of her and Hovis goes out the window. I have to admit, William is exceptionally handsome but that doesn’t make me forget he could be nothing but an exceptionally handsome con man. In fact, I am beginning to wonder if he and Nathan are just two con men. Just think about it, I’m left an inheritance from my great aunt and who turns up outside the solicitors? None other than Mr William Ellis, a bit of a coincidence don’t you think? I imagine he and Nathan preyed on her, investing her money in their dodgy schemes. No doubt Mr charming Ellis talked her into leaving her house to him too. Yes, that’s about right. Well, I’m not letting them get away with it. William has himself well covered if Muffy can’t find anything on him. Maybe I’ll do a little spying myself. What was he doing loitering outside the solicitors anyway? A convenient collision if you ask me.
The waiter leans towards me.
‘Seared foie gras with figs poached in red wine, oriental spices and toasted sesame madam.’
‘You’ll have to share those,’ says Nathan, seductively licking his lips.
If he thinks he is getting his mouth around my fork, he can think again. In fact, if he thinks he is getting his mouth around me he will find his balls dished up for dessert. He’s a bit too forward if you ask me. I can’t think why William uses him.
‘Pot roast quail,’ says the waiter, placing a dish in front of William, ‘and the lobster for you sir.’
‘And a bottle of the 2009 Chardonnay,’ adds Nathan.
Nathan likes to spend William’s money it seems. I relax in the warmth of a roaring log fire that is near to our table and enjoy the flickering light of the candles on the crystal glassware on the table. Nathan leans close to me and says,
‘So William tells me you’re in sales.’ He cuts into the lobster expertly.
‘I was.’
‘Worked in the city did you?’
‘Yes, I did.’
But now I am in the sex business it would seem, that is if I get the job.
‘So you weren’t an accountant?’ he asks casually.
William tops up Muffy’s glass and smiles at me. I smile back and try to ignore the little tingle in my loins. Con artists, don’t forget Binki, con artists.
‘No,’ I reply. ‘I was never an accountant.’
What an odd question, unless he has a fetish for female accountants.
‘Why, are you running classes?’ I ask.
He laughs.
‘No, I just like to keep up with the competition.’
‘So where in London are you based?’ Muffy asks William, ‘Company-wise of course.’
Good heavens, is she moving closer to him? If she gets much closer she’ll be on his lap.
‘Canary Wharf,’ smiles William.
‘Not actually in the city then?’ I ask suspiciously.
Muffy gives me a sharp look.
‘No, but I’m often there on business,’ he says, looking into my eyes.
‘Ah,’ I say, leaving the word hanging in the air and sounding like Columbo.
‘Which means?’ asks Muffy.
Blimey, is she defending him?
‘Nothing,’ I shrug.
I finish my starter and spend the main course sneakily glancing at William and listening to Nathan’s boring monologues about the places he has been to and his opinions on business-class travel and all of the classy hotels he has stayed in. He clearly likes the high life. By dessert I’ve really had enough of him.
‘When I went to Saudi, this Arab sheik insisted on having me dine with him and his harem. That was a funny story. I could have been at it all night,’ he laughs drunkenly. ‘I tell you, I’ve got a great job.’
‘Really,’ I say, rolling my eyes at Muffy.
‘Binki’s got a job. Did she tell you?’ Muffy blurts out drunkenly.
Oh great.
‘I haven’t got it yet,’ I say.
‘You did?’ says William, raising his eyebrows.
‘Why, were you hoping I wouldn’t stick around?’ I say emptying my fourth glass.
‘Of course not,’ he says softly.
‘It’s in a sex shop,’ says Muffy loudly. She has this way of staggering news doesn’t she? ‘I said she’ll be turning tricks next,’ she adds laughing.
I throw her a filthy look as the restaurant quietens.
‘Let me know when you do,’ winks Nathan, wafting alcohol breath over me.
‘You didn’t have to do that,’ says William quietly.
‘I think I did,’ I reply, meeting his eyes. ‘I need to pay my way.’
‘It’s better than appearing in porn films,’ giggles Muffy. ‘That was her first thought, wasn’t it Binki? We said the titles would be funny, like …’
What is she saying?
‘Muffy,’ I snap. ‘Shut up.’
‘Sounds like fun,’ mumbles Nathan drunkenly. ‘Any perks, bet you can’t match mine?’
‘Chocolate penises and nipples,’ giggles Muffy.
‘Then again, maybe you can,’ he laughs.
I’m relieved when dessert comes and the conversation has moved onto cars and how William came to have a Lamborghini.
‘Can you believe a grateful client bought it for him?’ says Nathan banging William on the back.
‘It sounds grander than it is,’ says William looking slightly embarrassed.
By the time dessert is over I realise I have drunk far too much and so has Muffy. We both stagger to the ladies and I march straight into the cubicle without even talking to her.
‘Binki, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean … I’ve drunk too much.’
I hiccup.
‘We both have,’ I say flinging open the door and avoiding the mirror at all costs.
‘For Christ’s sake Muffy, keep your wits about you. If they are con men, don’t give them any information,’ I say, while wondering what sodding information I am talking about.
‘Right,’ says Muffy, running a brush through her hair. ‘What kind of information are we talking about?’
Christ, she’s becoming psychic.
‘You know,’ I say, opening the door to the restaurant.
‘Right,’ she says again.
Nathan is waiting by the table for us.
‘Will is paying. I must say you two ladies look lovely.’
Lovely and pissed more like. William meets us and the waiter opens the door for us to leave.
I step outside and the fresh cold air hits me so forcefully that I have trouble standing upright and feel myself sway.
‘Binki, you okay?’
I turn around and sway towards William. God I hope it didn’t look like a swoon. His arm supports me, and I look into his eyes. He seems very close. If I move a fraction closer my body would be touching his. I feel my face grow hot and then his face seems to come closer. I pull back and push my hand into my bag to grab a wet wipe but pull out a chocolate nipple instead.
‘Thanks but I have had plenty.
Of food that is,’ he laughs. ‘And I prefer the real thing but thank you anyway,’ he finishes with a grin.
Why is it he never gets drunk or even drinks too much come to that.
‘I’m onto you, you know that,’ I slur, feeling my shoes slip on the wet pavement. I grab his arm for support.
‘Really?’
Oh, he is as sleazy as his partner in crime, Nathan Richards.
‘I know you swindled my aunt and you deliberately bumped into me in town didn’t you? I don’t know what you were hoping to steal from my handbag but …’
‘I was there on business Binki, and you really should be careful what you say …’
‘Huh, I should be careful. You’re the one who should watch your step.’
Muffy walks out of the restaurant and glances at me. She looks fabulous and I find myself feel a twinge of envy. Of course, it would be me who gets the leech Nathan wouldn’t it, while Muffy gets the ever-so-gorgeous William, that’s about right isn’t it? What am I thinking? I couldn’t care less about William Ellis could I? Not much Binki. The truth is I’m finding him the most appealing man ever, and when he said he preferred the real thing to my chocolate nipples I had to bite back offering my own.
‘Everything okay?’ asks Muffy.
‘Fine,’ I say. ‘I just feel a bit headachy. I’ll head back I think. I promise not to lock you out,’ I whisper to William.
‘I’ll get you a taxi and escort you back,’ offers Nathan.
Great, that’s all I need.
‘I should head back too,’ says Muffy. ‘Would you mind driving me to the station William?’
Wonderful, my best friend and my biggest enemy consorting together is what I don’t need. God knows what Muffy will spill about me while under the influence. Tomorrow I am hiring a private investigator to look into William Ellis. I’ll nail the little con man if it kills me.
‘Thank you Nathan, but I prefer to go back alone,’ I say forcefully.
I kiss Muffy goodbye, promise not to lock William out and dive into the taxi and decide, as I will be back before William, to do a little probing when I get home.
Chapter Twenty
So much for a little probing. I felt so rough in the taxi on the way home I couldn’t recognise anything and kept asking the driver why he was taking such a strange route to Notting Hill. When he’d pulled up at the house I almost fell out of the cab and felt really sick.
‘How much do I owe you,’ I’d slurred.
‘Don’t worry love; the men took care of it. You just sleep it off.’
Bloody cheek, calling me love. I fumbled with the key while slumped against the door cursing William the whole time.
‘The arse has changed the lock,’ I mumbled, and then realised I was using my flat keys again. I stumble into the house and dash to the bathroom where I sit with my head over the bowl. Oh God, I swear I’m dying. I finally drag my reluctant body to the bedroom and search for my nightie. I bet that William Ellis has hidden it. I bet the little sod has been through my things.
‘Just you wait William Ferret,’ I mutter.
Somehow that didn’t sound right. I wish Oliver were here. He would tell me what to do. Why did he have to go and balance a ball on his bimbo? I blame Jesus. Why did he have to be born in the first place? We’d never have this Christmas malarkey if it weren’t for him. I tip my clothes out of the drawer to try and find my nightie. I grab the Ann Summers top I’d bought especially for Christmas night. With a little sob I fall onto the bed, clutching a photo of Oliver to my chest.
‘I miss you so much Olly,’ I whisper as the room slowly spins.
Thankfully I fall asleep and then have the worst nightmare of my life. Oliver is trapped in a big glass box with two women balanced on his balls. His wrists and ankles are bound and he is begging me to help. I struggle to get into the box but I can’t, and all around me are huge brown nipples. I turn to see William with an enormous axe and I scream.
‘No William.’
‘It’s the only way,’ he says calmly. ‘If we chop it off in the process it serves him right doesn’t it?’
‘No,’ I scream, pushing him away. He shakes me and I feel like my head will fall off.
‘We have to, it’s the only way.’
‘Get off me,’ I scream.
My eyes open to find someone really is on top of me, or at least very close to me. Oh my God, a burglar. I open my mouth to call for William but nothing will come out. I’m frozen with fear and my heart is pounding so fast I feel sure the burglar must be able to hear it too. Waves of nausea wash over me and my legs feel like lead. I fumble around the bedside cabinet knocking over a glass of water. I grab my hairspray, aim it at the burglar’s face and spray like a lunatic. He falls back groaning and I finally manage to scream William’s name.
‘Help, help,’ I scream, feeling my head thump unmercifully. ‘William please help me.’
‘Well I would, if you hadn’t have blinded me. God, what was that?’
‘William?’ I say.
My God, what is William doing in my bedroom? I click the light on and see William on the floor holding his hands to his eyes.
‘What are you doing in my room and more importantly, what were you doing on my bed? I’m calling the police, don’t move, I’m warning you,’ I say, my body trembling.
‘You were having a nightmare and screaming like a banshee. I came to see if you were okay. What the hell did you spray at me? I can’t see a thing. Was it special rape spray? I think you’ve blinded me.’
‘You weren’t raping me?’ I say suspiciously, my hand now clutching my Blackberry.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, if I’d wanted to rape you, I’d have done that the first night you were here wouldn’t I? What is that stuff?’
‘L’Oreal hairspray,’ I say, jumping from the bed.
‘Because I’m worth it?’ he says sarcastically.
I try to ignore his boxer pants. I rush to the bathroom and soak a towel in cold water.
‘Here,’ I say, handing it to him. ‘I’m so sorry. I thought you were a burglar.’
He takes the towel gratefully.
‘You’re lethal, do you know that? I only came in because I thought something was wrong.
I kneel beside him. Oh God, what if I have blinded him. He will no doubt sue me and that’s all I need. He dabs the towel on his eyes and blinks.
‘They don’t look too bad,’ I say. ‘Can you see?’ I ask hopefully.
Please don’t let him be blind. He blinks a few times, looks at me and grins.
‘Oh yes, I can see fine.’
I avoid his eyes and look down only to find myself looking at his crotch. Oh God, look up Binki, look up. He’s wearing boxers and nothing else. God, he is hairy and nicely muscular. I look into his eyes and blush.
‘Interesting nightie,’ he says, standing up.
I gasp and put my hand to my mouth. Oh shit, shit. I look down at my Ann Summers frilly negligee and see that the bloody thing has done exactly what it said on the tin. A quick pull on the ribbon and all will be revealed. It has done that all right and my tits are there for all to see and in particular, for William to see.
‘Oh no,’ I gasp.
‘He’ll love it,’ the assistant had said. ‘Just a little tug and it opens showing everything. If that doesn’t excite your man nothing will.’
Except this isn’t my man and he is no doubt comparing them to Andrea’s perfect specimens.
‘Oh God, I’m so embarrassed,’ I say.
‘Don’t be, they’re certainly nothing to be embarrassed about,’ he smiles.
‘It was a Christmas present for Oliver,’ I say. ‘Only he didn’t get to see it.’
‘Oliver’s loss is my gain,’ he grins.
Why is he always so nice? It is so hard to detest him when he is like this. I don’t even feel he is coming on to me.
‘There is a chocolate nipple in the fridge,’ I say to cover my embarrassment.
He grins, his red eyes sparkli
ng.
‘Won’t you join me?’
‘I suppose I could have a penis,’ I say laughing.
‘Meet you in the kitchen then.’
I watch him leave and then bury my head in my hands. I must look such a sight. I pop back to the bathroom, cringe at my reflection and splash some water onto my face. I hear him filling the kettle and after donning a dressing gown I join him in the kitchen.
‘Hot chocolate?’ he asks, placing a chocolate penis and a couple of nipples onto a plate.
I giggle.
‘Coffee,’ I say.
‘Yes you’re right, a much better accompaniment to a penis.’
I hand him some eye drops.
‘I thought these may help.’
No matter what he wears or what gets sprayed in his face he still manages to look gorgeous.
‘You saw Muffy to the station then,’ I say, trying to sound casual while wondering if he kissed her, and wondering even more what it would be like if he kissed me.
‘I dropped her off, yes.’
Well, that wasn’t giving much away was it? He places two mugs of coffee onto the table and breaks the penis in half.
‘Half a penis, or are you saving yourself for a nipple?’
‘Well, I could try half a penis, I’ve not had one yet,’ I giggle.
‘You don’t know what you’re missing,’ he winks. ‘I suppose if you get this job in the sex shop we’ll be overcome with the things, perks of the job and all that.’
I nod.
‘Hang on a sec,’ he says and disappears from the kitchen.
This is a bit disconcerting. One minute we are discussing chocolate penises and the perks of working in a sex shop, and then he has to go. Go where, and to do what exactly? Don’t be ridiculous Binki, he probably needed the loo. Yes exactly, I rest my case. The door opens and I jump. He has changed into pyjama bottoms and a dressing gown, and no slippers thank God. Slippers were always an issue with Oliver and me. He always insisted on wearing slippers, not that I have a problem with slippers you understand. My dad wears slippers but it just seems all wrong for a 29-year-old man to wear them. William is holding a box. He hands it to me and says shyly,
‘This is for you, happy birthday. I would have given it to you earlier but there wasn’t time.’