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Mad

Page 36

by Chloé Esposito


  KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

  Oh my God. What is it now? Is that the police?

  “Who is it?”

  I freeze. Hold my breath. Eye the window. I wonder how wide it will open? I guess if I had to, I could climb out? Genius. That’s a great plan, Alvie. You’re stark-bollock naked. It’s central London. Broad fucking daylight. The middle of the day. No one’s going to notice you up there on the roof running around in the buff . . .

  “Sorry, madam, midday check out wa,s erm, well, at midday.”

  Phew. It’s just Matthew, my butler. Ace.

  “Right. I see. And what time is it now?” I glance at the phone: two thirty.

  “One thirty.”

  It must still be on Italian time.

  “OK. I’m coming. I’m coming.”

  I’ve got to get out of here . . . need to find Nino . . . got to disappear before they see this suite.

  I crawl back into the bedroom slowly, emerging from the primordial slime like some kind of early lizard. I don’t have anything to wear. Nino’s fucked off with my clothes in the suitcase. What’s he going to do with my sister’s dresses? Gucci, Lanvin, and Tom Ford. I doubt they’d suit him, honestly. He’ll sell them all on eBay, probably (I know I would). I want them back. There’s a heart-shaped box for Elizabeth’s necklace lying open on the dresser. An ivory letter-opener. A vial filled with Nino’s blood (I don’t need that; I’ll drink it or chuck it.) My clothes from last night are dumped on top of the vermillion chaise longue. I grab my dress and head back to the bathroom. If I have a nice shower, I might feel better. I’ll be a new woman, if I can just get dressed. (That cock-face picked the wrong chick to mess with.) Yes. Yes, I might feel lonely. I might feel like a comatose slug. But I’m bouncing back, just like Lance Armstrong. Like Craig David in 2013. I’ll reinvent myself like Kylie. I’ll get my revenge. I’m a phoenix. I’m a firework. Just you watch me. I was born to set it right! I’m indestructible. Resilient. I’m a motherfucking tidal wave.

  I turn on the water and get in.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHLOÉ ESPOSITO grew up in Cheltenham, England, and now lives in London with her husband and daughter. She has a BA and MA in English Language and Literature from the University of Oxford and has worked as a senior management consultant, an English teacher, and a fashion journalist. A graduate of the Faber Academy, this is her first novel.

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