Naked in Knightsbridge

by Schmidt, Nicky

  ‘Louis,’ she said to the driver, ‘do you see that man there? The one in the cheap suit holding the bouquet of red carnations?’

  ‘Yes, miss.’

  ‘Please go and get him. Bring him back here as quickly as possible.’

  Louis nodded, walked briskly across the road and patted the man on the shoulder. He looked confused and Jools could see his mouth snap open and close in protest as Louis lead him back to the car. Louis opened the door and ushered him into the back seat.

  ‘Joolsy!’ He didn’t look happy.

  ‘Dad, what are you doing here?’

  ‘That’s a very good question, isn’t it? I shouldn’t be here, right? I should be all the way across town at a church that knows nothing about this wedding, shouldn’t I?’

  ‘Yes, fine, I lied. I didn’t want you here. I don’t want you here!’ She was done tiptoeing around the subject. She’d been too nice for too long. It was time to reveal how she truly felt.

  ‘But why, Joolsy? Why would you lie to me? Don’t you want to have your dad by your side, walking you down the aisle?’

  ‘I would, if my dad wasn’t wanted by the police in connection with a statutory rape case.’

  ‘I’m working it all out.’

  She rolled her eyes. How many times had she heard that old chestnut?

  ‘And you know, if things were different, if I weren’t overseas, I would have been here for you the whole time. Helping plan, paying for things. You know.’

  Jools laughed. ‘Yeah, I’m sure. In a completely different world, as a completely different person, you might have been around to help me. But this is reality, so forgive me if I’m not entirely pleased to see you now.’

  ‘I’ve just had a spot of bad luck . . .’

  ‘A spot of bad luck that’s lasted thirty years,’ she yelled. The car was silent and for a moment Jools thought he might start to cry.

  ‘I can’t deal with this right now,’ she said, trying to stay calm and keep her dress from ripping. ‘You have to go.’

  ‘I have nowhere to go,’ he whined. ‘I need your help, Joolsy. I need a bit more money.’

  ‘There’s no more money to give, Dad.’

  ‘Come on. Soon all that juicy Wetherspone money will be at your fingertips. They adore you. I’m sure Rodney would do anything to make you happy.’

  ‘Rodney hates me!’ she yelled. One of the buttons on the back of her dress popped off and ricocheted off the window.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. He wouldn’t marry you if he hated you.’

  ‘He’s gay, Dad!’ The words just burst out and once she’d started, she couldn’t stop. ‘He’s gay and he needs a foil and he paid me to go along with this sham.’

  For once, her dear old dad was stunned into silence.

  ‘I owed thousands to the bank and they were going to sue me for it. I could have gone to jail so I needed the money. But he hates me. More than anything. And I don’t want to marry him, but I don’t know what else to do.’

  ‘Do, what can you do?’ Her father was, as usual, no help at all. ‘Run away?’

  ‘No, Dad. This is my only option – at least until I get myself together and make a little money of my own. And I won’t be able to do that if you’re here.’

  Charlie Grand opened his mouth to protest but Jools cut him off. ‘What if they find out that you’re back in the country? What if the cops show up at the reception? The Wetherspones can’t know about you. It’d ruin everything. And really, you’ve ruined enough in my life already.’

  Jools finally stopped talking and slumped back onto the car seat, exhausted. Keeping all of those secrets was really starting to eat away at her. It felt good to have released them to somebody, even if it was her shocker of a dad.

  ‘Well. I’m a bit shocked, Jools. Shocked by your behaviour, truth be told.’

  Jools would thump him if she had the energy. ‘I’m sorry, Dad, but you need to go.’

  ‘I don’t know if I want to go,’ he said. Jools knew what he meant. He wanted the money.

  ‘I would go, if I had the means.’ He cast a beady eye her way.

  ‘Alright, alright, I’ll find you more money,’ she sighed. ‘But only if you promise to vanish.’

  He nodded and opened the car door. ‘I really am shocked by your attitude, Jools. I never thought a daughter of mine could be so selfish. They say the apple never falls far from the tree, but you’re in a different orchard all together.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad.’ She meant it. She wanted to be as far away from his tree as possible. She watched him cross the street and walk away from the church.

  Taking a moment to collect herself, she informed Louis she was ready. He came around and opened the door and the paparazzi swooped down, flashes popping insanely. Hundreds of people had gathered outside the church and Jools was surrounded on all sides by the curious and rude, begging for pictures and autographs; telling her how lovely or horrible she looked; asking ridiculously personal questions like where she and Rodney would do it on their honeymoon; what size her dress was; did she enjoy all doughnuts or just those from Doughy?

  Louis held them back as best as he could and with some help from the police, Jools made it safely into the church. At the start of the aisle, she glanced around and noticed that Rodney’s side of the church was packed – people were even standing at the back – while hers held only a few cleaners she’d had to pay to show up, along with Mrs Pho, who shook her head and mouthed ‘arsonist.’

  Everyone on Rodney’s side was extremely well dressed and had their noses so high into the air she doubted they could see what was going on. Jools’ cleaners had come in their work overalls, and Mrs Pho was edging away from them towards Rodney’s side.

  The familiar first notes of the wedding procession filled the church and Jools started down the aisle. As she passed the rows and rows of Wetherspone guests, the power of their stares stung like nettles. They were judging her, clearly thinking that Rodney was making a terrible mistake.

  Jools summoned the strength to keep going, even though she was missing a button and the strings of her corset were starting to unravel. Oh, to be out of this dress and back in a comfy Juicy tracksuit. Back in her room, away from the stares and sniggers; nestled warm and cosy in bed with a pint of ice cream and a few dozen gourmet cupcakes.

  Rodney was waiting for her, another plastic smile stuck on his perfect, tanned face. The temptation to smack that smile right off was almost too strong, but she forced herself to focus on breathing instead.

  Finally, she made it to the altar and turned to look him in the eyes, hoping desperately that no one could read her mind.

  *

  Louis the driver was sneaking a fag outside the church, leaning casually against the hood, when one of the paparazzi appeared.

  ‘Nice day,’ the pap said.

  ‘That it is.’

  ‘Good you get to take a break.’

  ‘Can I help you with something, mate?’ Louis flicked his cigarette in the man’s general direction. The paparazzi made his job dangerous. Every time he had to swerve to avoid them, he risked his life. There had already been several near misses with trees and pedestrians. Once he’d nearly mowed down Amy Winehouse.

  ‘Yes, you might just be able to help me,’ the pap replied. ‘Who was that old man in the car with Jools?’

  Louis smiled. It wasn’t the first time one of these fools had asked for information. He’d been a driver and bodyguard for twenty years and worked for all sorts of important people; people whose lives were of great interest to the public. He prided himself on being loyal and protective of his clients.

  ‘You know I can’t tell you anything about Miss Grand’s private business,’ he said, baiting the guy.

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ the pap said, ‘I know. But maybe you can tell her.’ He held out a hundred pound note and pointed at the Queen’s image. ‘Maybe you can tell her all about that bloke, and what he and Jools were saying to each other. Maybe I can just listen in on the conversa
tion.’ He raised his eyebrows.

  Louis licked his lips. With a mortgage and ex-wife draining him dry, a hundred quid would be extremely helpful – as long as the leak couldn’t be traced back to him.

  ‘You want me to betray Jools to the Queen?’ Louis asked.

  ‘She is the Queen, after all,’ the pap said. ‘She deserves to know.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Louis said, mulling it over. ‘I might betray Jools to four Queens. In fact, I might tell five Queens every little detail.’

  The photographer reached into his wallet and pulled out a stack of crisp hundred pound notes. He counted out five and handed them to over.

  ‘Hiya, Your Highnesses,’ Louis said. ‘Want to hear about Jools and her dad and how her marriage is a complete sham? Righty ho, pull up a chair.’

  Louis told his five Queens the whole story. When he was done, he got into the car and locked the door. The pap was practically drooling.

  Niles couldn’t believe his luck. His photographer’s disguise had finally paid off. It was worth spending a few hundred quid to pay off that dozy driver. Now he had everything he needed to get Jools right where he wanted her: his basement in Slough.

  Given his newfound information, it was a sure bet that Jools and Rodney wouldn’t be heading off for a romantic honeymoon anytime soon. Niles decided to go back to their house and wait. She wouldn’t be able to run from him anymore.

  After all, it was as he had suspected.

  He was more man than Rodney would ever be.

  Chapter 25

  Dear Julia M. Grand,

  We enclose a claim recently lodged with the County Court in your area. As the claimants stated in their letter before action, they seek the amount of £25,872.11 plus interest and costs. You are advised to pay this amount within the prescribed period, or defend the claim, to avoid recovery action by the County Court Sheriff.

  This is an automated letter from the South and West County Court. If you are not the intended recipient, or wish to contest this claim, please contact us immediately.

  AFTER THE RECEPTION, Jools and Rodney returned home. They chatted briefly in the kitchen about an up-and-coming appearance he needed her for, and then quickly made for their separate bedrooms. Jools couldn’t wait to take off the terrible dress and crawl into bed, preferably with some tasty morsel.

  Happy to be alone, she couldn’t have cared less when she heard the front door open and close and voices coming from Rodney’s bedroom. So what if he and that loser Michel were re-enacting a honeymoon? Let them. She was too exhausted to be grossed out.

  Thoughts of Michel made her think of Mel, who hadn’t come to the wedding. Jools had hoped she might at least show up to offer support, even if she hated Jools and knew the whole thing was fake.

  Just as she was drifting off to sleep, there was a rap on her window. She tried her best to ignore it but it grew more violent and loud. Groaning, she forced herself to get up, thinking it was probably a rent boy Michel had hired courtesy of Rodney, or someone equally foul. She pushed the window open a crack.

  A weedy guy appeared out of the darkness, looking about as sinister as an under-stuffed muppet in black, bride-napping attire.

  Jumping back, Jools tried to recall where she had seen him. That’s right. The ferret-like freak she’d met at the beginning of her miSell auction.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she asked in a loud whisper, opening the window a couple more inches.

  ‘Just came to pay my respects to the bride,’ he hissed, moving closer, camera in hand.

  Jools hadn’t seen Niles since that horrible day at the coffee shop. How could he know where she lived? And what was with the high-tech camera? Was he a pap? That was all she needed. Documented evidence of her humble beginnings as an miSell whore.

  ‘You’d better go before I call the police,’ she looked around the room for some kind of blunt object she could use if Niles tried to climb in. The best option was a rather heavy vase stationed on the bureau. It might not kill him but it would definitely knock him senseless. Not that he seemed to have much sense to begin with.

  ‘Don’t worry, Jools,’ Niles said, pimply nose stuck against the window, enjoying her fear. ‘I’m not here to harm you. I wouldn’t dream of it. That would ruin my whole plan.’

  ‘What plan?’ Jools edged toward the vase.

  ‘The plan where you spend eternity with me in my house in Slough. I’ve fixed it up for you real nice. You’ll like what I’ve done with the concrete floor and cinderblock walls.’

  ‘You’re a nutter,’ she spat at him. ‘I’d never come anywhere near your place. I’d rather choke on my own vomit.’

  ‘You’ll end up in Slough eventually, baby,’ he crooned, ‘and when you do, I’ll see to it you stay put. No more running away from Niles.’

  Jools slammed the window shut, narrowly missing his hands, and drew the curtains.

  ‘I know what’s happening, Jools!’ Niles screamed from outside. ‘I know everything and you will submit to me!’

  What the hell was he talking about? Jools stood behind the curtain, biting her nails. She hoped Michel was keeping Rodney aroused enough to ignore the noise.

  ‘Your father! Your gay husband!’ Niles’ deranged shrieks pierced the windowpanes.

  Shit. Double shit. Jools pulled up the window again. How the hell did he know about Dad and Rodney?

  ‘So, I take it you reconsider?’

  ‘Listen, Niles, your medication is clearly not working. You’re delusional. My husband’s not gay.’

  ‘Really? Not what I heard.’

  ‘Rubbish, you lunatic. Where did you hear that?’

  ‘From you, my darling. Outside the church, talking to your father.’

  How the hell had he overheard them? Maybe one of the car windows had been open? Or maybe her father had sold his story for the price of a hotel room and some Jack Daniel’s? Jools’ stomach dropped to her knees. In any event, the weasel knew the truth.

  What was she going to do now?

  ‘I’ll give you money!’

  ‘I don’t want money. I want you.’ Even from the window she could hear him licking his lips.

  ‘A car?’

  ‘You.’

  ‘A holiday to the Caribbean? Nicer than Slough this time of year.’

  ‘You.’

  Jools sighed. ‘Okay, a date, one date – but that’s all.’

  Niles thought for a moment. A date was better than nothing, but he suspected that the minute he left, she’d move house or get a bodyguard or an alarm or something, then tell him the date was off.

  ‘Come and live with me in Slough or I tell all. That’s the deal, my darling.’

  Jools was exhausted and couldn’t cope with anything else tonight. A paltry existence underneath the bus garage with Skuttle was looking pretty good right about now.

  ‘Do what you want, you mentalist. I’m going to bed.’

  She was about to shut the window when she heard Niles say quietly, ‘I’ll bring you down, and you’ll be sorry.’

  ‘You’re blackmailing me and I’m calling the police,’ Jools said, bluffing. Banging the window down again, she waited a moment, fully expecting Niles to try to break in. But after a few minutes everything was quiet.

  Maybe she should tell the police? It wouldn’t be difficult to make out that Niles was a psycho, given that he was, in fact, a huge one.

  But she’d need Rodney’s support.

  Running from the room, she padded down the hall to Rodney’s door. Some unpleasant sounds were emanating from the bedroom. No. It could wait until tomorrow. The thought of interrupting him in the middle of whatever he was doing with Michel did not appeal to her in the slightest.

  *

  Niles left Jools’ place angry and frustrated. Her threat to call the police meant that even if he managed to spirit her away to Slough, the cops would probably be waiting on his front door step before he got her there.

  If he couldn’t have her, that homosexual toff
wasn’t getting her either. This time he had real ammunition. He could destroy her if he wanted to and – more than anything else – that was exactly what he wanted to do.

  Taking a deep breath, Niles told himself to calm down. By tomorrow he would know if she had called the police. Leaking what he knew to the tabloids before then might lose him a trump card.

  To fill the time, Niles decided to call the papers and explore the possibilities. He rang up WhatNOW! on his mobile and told them he had a hot story about a certain local politician and his new obese wife.

  The young reporter was intrigued. ‘What is it, then?’

  ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,’ Niles said. ‘First, tell me what kind of money we’re talking about.’

  Reluctant to give Niles a hard number, the kid told him they’d have to check him out before they reached a deal. ‘But if it’s a solid lead, we’re talking somewhere in the realm of seventy-five grand.’

  How ironic, Niles thought smugly – exactly what he would have paid for Jools. He grinned. If he couldn’t have Jools, a fat wad of cash was the next best thing.

  Feeling a whole lot better about the situation, Niles made his way home to wait for the reporter’s call – and avoid one from the Old Bill.

  Chapter 26

  From: Studley@Grand.co.uk

  Subject: Message for Joolsy