Shopping With the Enemy (20 page)

This stash could probably fund Randall’s surfer bum lifestyle for quite some time to come.

‘Right, well … I think there might be something in here,’ she fibbed, then pulled out a 100 euro note and held it out to him. ‘Can I trust you?’ she asked.

‘Of course you can trust me. Look, my board cost like five of those. I am not about to leave it on your car.’

‘Do you promise?’

‘Yes, I promise. Besides, you’re too lovely to abandon in a car overnight. Trust me.’

With a gentle clunk of the back door, Randall was gone.

Annie leaned back in the driver’s seat and waited. She listened to Svetlana’s breathing and she waited. It grew dark but she didn’t dare to turn on any of the car’s cabin lights in case she drained the battery.

Much time passed.

Time for Annie’s thoughts about Randall to move from:
Lovely? He thinks I’m lovely. Why did he say that? Why am I even wondering about why he said that? I really shouldn’t even be spending one second thinking about this …
’

To: ‘
He’s gone. He’s definitely gone. He’s left us. He’s taken 100 euros – from Svetlana! And I gave it to him! And he’s left some useless beaten up old surfboard on the roof. Maybe he plays this trick all the time. Maybe he unscrewed the petrol cap … maybe that’s why he had a surfboard up a mountain in the first place
…

She decided to stretch her legs and get some fresh air. She’d been sitting in the Bentley for far too long.

Closing the door quietly behind her, she walked a short distance along the deserted road and back. Only one car had gone past in all the time Randall had been gone. It was far too quiet. The blooming countryside! She’d always been suspicious of it; that was why she lived in London, where the chances of
being
abandoned on a deserted road, miles and miles from a takeaway, a toilet or a coffee kiosk were very small.

She sat down on a grassy slope, which led towards some very dense and creepy looking woods, and gave a long, heartfelt and dejected sigh.

Out loud, in the immortal words of Owen, she said: ‘PANTS! This is just totally, unbelievably PANTS!’

Chapter Twenty-Six

New York

The stallholder:

Bright blue T-shirt (Old Navy)

Faded jeans (Lee)

Red suede sneakers (Adidas)

Vintage bead and turquoise necklace (craft fair)

Total est. cost: $260

‘SO, ANY PLANS
for tonight, now that Elena’s finally allowed us out of the office?’

‘No … ummm … not really.’

It was nearly evening, Lana and Gracie were walking through one of the little markets on the way back to their neighbourhood from work, eating frozen yoghurts and browsing occasional items for sale.

Lana was sorry she’d come, as she’d known she would be, but Gracie had insisted. Lana hadn’t wanted to tell her the reason why she needed to go home and scrub up because she knew Gracie wouldn’t like it at all.

As they wandered from stall to stall, looking at the offerings and flirting with the stallholders, Gracie peppered their chat with Parker questions.

‘He still hasn’t left any kind of message yet. Do you think he will?’

‘Do you think he really wanted me to come to this art show on Saturday, remember, or do you think he just said it but didn’t really mean it?’

‘I think he must have changed his mind. What d’you think?’

‘I don’t know, Gracie!’ Lana said with a touch of exasperation, as she picked up a beaded necklace and examined it carefully.

‘Oh yes, that would so suit you,’ the stallholder, a young guy not much older than them, insisted. ‘Look up at me, Miss? Yes, blue eyes, you have beautiful blue eyes. This is the necklace for you. It’s antique, you know, turquoise and genuine silver. Navaho.’

‘Thanks,’ Lana said, smiling at him, ‘I’m kinda looking around, I might come back …’

‘It’ll be gone and you’re gonna regret it. It’s a special necklace, very lucky.’

‘Thanks.’ She waved and backed away from the stall before he could talk her into it.

Gracie linked arms with Lana: ‘You know it’s just friends, it’s just about making a new friend. It’s really not anything else.’

‘What is?’

‘Me and Parker, of course. But it’s just amazing to make a new friend, isn’t it? I’d forgotten how exciting the whole thing is, like a crush,’ Gracie gushed, ‘but in a small way, of course.’

‘Are you going to stop?’ Lana asked, slightly shocked at how abrupt this sounded.

‘Huh?’ Gracie asked, letting her arm fall from Lana’s.

‘Well, you just have to stop now. You already have a boyfriend. A really nice, really sweet boyfriend called Bingham. Have you forgotten? Parker is just this guy,’ then with barely checked irritation, Lana added: ‘All Parker said to you was: there’s an art show next Saturday, see you there, maybe? No. Big. Deal.’

‘What’s got into you?’ Gracie demanded, all hurt now.

‘Well, you’re just acting like he’s the most important thing in the world – and he’s not. He’s so totally not. The most important thing in the world right now is that we’ve spent $4,000 of our own money making new dresses and we have to make
sure
they fly off the rails. That’s the only thing we ought to be thinking about. Not some dumb guy who might or might not ask us out.’

‘
Us?
’

Gracie wheeled round to stare at Lana; there was no ignoring the iciness in her voice.

‘Has Parker asked you out?’

Lana didn’t say anything, but she could feel a tell-tale blush radiating across her face.

‘You better tell me, Lana,’ Gracie went on, ‘otherwise I’m going to call him right now, right this second, and find out.’

‘He asked me out. I’m meeting Parker tonight,’ Lana blurted out.

Gracie’s expression went from angry to stunned in a heartbeat. Now Lana could feel blood pounding in her cheeks and in her ears. Did she really just say that out loud? Had she just told Gracie? Even though, deep down, she knew how Gracie was going to feel.

‘What?!’ Gracie asked, her voice squeaky with astonishment.

‘He asked me out yesterday,’ Lana began, ‘and I said yes because you have a boyfriend and I don’t. I thought it would be OK.’

‘I can’t believe you!’ Gracie exclaimed. ‘I met him first. I introduced him to you. You’ve never said you liked him like that. I can’t believe you …’

Gracie’s face was creasing: it was clear that she was on the verge of tears.

‘Well, I’m sorry—’ Lana began.

‘You’re sorry?! Oh please, don’t even bother pretending to apologize. How can you say you’re sorry? All I’ve been saying for days is how much I liked him and you …’ Gracie paused, her voice all tight and choked, ‘you never said a single word.’

‘Gracie, I didn’t mean … I didn’t know … not really,’ Lana tried.

‘You didn’t mean what? You didn’t mean to snatch Parker from right under my nose? Oh and I suppose you didn’t mean to exactly copy my bangs? You didn’t mean to start dressing in exactly the same way as me? What are you doing? Are you trying to be me?! Are you some weird stalker person who is planning to take over my entire life?’

‘Gracie!’ Lana exclaimed, but she felt properly stung now, ‘I didn’t … I haven’t …’

‘Yes you have!’ Gracie chipped in. ‘You’ve done all of those things. You’ve totally copied me and now you are stealing the guy who is supposed to be mine.’

Her voice was loud and passers-by were stopping to stare.

‘Please be quiet,’ Lana asked.

‘I hope you have a lovely evening. I hope you have a truly wonderful time and make a brand new
best
friend, because you’re going to need one!’ Gracie exclaimed. Then she turned on her heel and began to walk away quickly.

Lana just stood there, feeling her cheeks burn. This was horrible and she felt awful.

She
had
copied Gracie’s bangs – and she had bought vintage dresses and little bags and pinned brooches to her lapels all in the Gracie style … and now she was going on a date with the guy Gracie liked best of all. Gracie hadn’t needed to say it, Lana had guessed. Lana should have known it was the wrong thing to do.

In fact, it was a horrible thing to do.

‘Ooooh, you should have bought the lucky necklace,’ the stallholder with the turquoise jewellery told her.

The humiliation brought tears to Lana’s eyes. She trudged out of the market and back to her apartment, her mobile phone clutched tightly in her hand.

She was a tiny speck of person alone and lonely in New York. There was only one person she wanted to call. But she didn’t know if she could. How did she get over the awkward beginning and have a proper conversation with her mum?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Austria

Ed on the line:

Denim shirt (used to be Owen’s)

Pink woolly tank-top (no idea)

Baggy beige chinos (John Lewis sale)

Old squash shoes (school lost property sale)

Total est. cost: £25

‘PANTS,’ ANNIE REPEATED
to herself.

She was still stuck in the woods with the empty Bentley and the sleeping tigress. The surfer was still missing in action.

‘And now what?’ she asked herself. ‘If you think you’re so clever, girl, just how are we supposed to get out of this?’

She took her mobile out of her handbag, saw that the battery was already two-thirds spent and wondered who she could phone. Maybe she should try and get through to the British AA? Maybe they had a European branch, which would bring petrol to Bentley-driving damsels in distress.

Before she could make a decision, the phone in her hand sprang to life and seeing at once whose number it was, she burst into a very welcome hello to her husband, Ed.

‘Oh darlin’, how nice to hear from you. I can’t tell you how good it is to get a phone call. Oh babes, I’m in such a fix, it’s lovely to hear from you. How are you? What is happening at home?’

‘We’re fine, Annie. All quiet on the home front,’ Ed told her. ‘What do you mean you’re in a fix? What’s happened now?’

‘Oh, you know, nothing much,’ she replied, not really wanting to worry him.

‘Well what? Why don’t you just tell me? Is it serious? Or just the imaginings of a dessert-starved dieter?’

‘Oh sweetheart, I am stuck in a wood in Austria with a clapped-out Bentley and a sleeping millionairess, waiting for the return of an escaped surfer.’

‘What?!’

Annie decided it was safe enough to give her
husband,
thousands of miles away, a quick summary of the situation.

‘WHAT?!’ Ed repeated when Annie reached the end of the update.

‘That’s my story so far,’ she added, ‘so now it’s your turn.’

‘But what are you going to do?’ Ed asked.

‘Don’t worry about me … something will turn up.’

‘But I do worry about you. I constantly worry about you. Now I’m going to worry about you all night long. You need the police. You need to dial 999 or whatever it is in Austria and get help.’

‘Probably. That’s probably what any normal person would do. I don’t know, my love, the police, the lawyers, they’re all on the case somewhere. We’re just out on a limb, on a detour … but we’re safe.’

‘Are you? Are you sure?’ Ed sounded a little frantic.

‘I am sure we are safe. We can always lock ourselves into the Bentley until the morning …’

‘Annie!’

‘Svetlana wants to get the boys back herself. I think it’s something about standing up to Igor on her own. I think she wants to show him she’s a totally worthy opponent. That he can’t crush her.’

‘Annie, you need to get help. Are you sure you shouldn’t phone the police?’

‘Look, babes, if the surfer hasn’t come back in an hour, I promise, I promise you that’s what we’ll do.’

‘OK …’

There was a hint of relief in Ed’s voice.

‘Have you heard from Lana?’ she asked.

‘No. Have you?’

‘No.’

Annie took in the dark woodland around her and the little road, empty apart from the Bentley.

‘I miss Lana,’ Annie admitted, ‘it’s like a bad break-up. I feel sad and I keep hearing songs that remind me of her. I want to sit in her bedroom and sniff things, hoping to get a little whiff of her.’

‘Just give her a phone,’ Ed suggested.

‘Svetlana said she would run back to me.’

Ed snorted. ‘And since when has Svetlana been an expert on teenage behaviour?’

‘She won’t be our teenager soon,’ Annie said, feeling almost choked at the thought. ‘She’ll turn twenty and then she’ll be fully grown up. I have to go,’ she remembered: ‘save my battery for phoning the police if I need to.’

‘Right. You take care, let me know what’s happening. I love you and I’m going to worry about you.’

‘Love you too.’

Reluctantly, Annie clicked off the call and put the phone back into her handbag. Right. It was time. Time to go back to the Bentley, wake up Svetlana,
endure
the Ukrainian tantrum and try to decide what to do next.

But just as she reached the car she heard footsteps behind her and a jaunty whistling. She turned to look and the sight of Randall strolling along with a huge plastic container bumping against his legs made her grin with relief, with happiness … with all sorts of slightly over the top feelings. She was just so pleased to see him.

‘You came back!’ she called out to him.

‘Of course! Were you thinking I was going to run out on you? Why did you not trust in the cosmic forces?’

‘Oh good grief. What’s the difference between a cosmic and a karmic force, by the way?’ she asked, heading towards him, intending to help him get the container to the car.

‘No, I’ve got it,’ he insisted, ‘and I can’t answer your question … well, not in one sentence. Not even in one evening.’

‘Never mind. Has this got petrol in it?’

‘What do you think?’ he smiled: ‘That I’ve walked back with a water urn so we can have a long drink?’

The muscles under his smooth brown skin flexed as he manoeuvred the container towards the car. Now that Annie was standing beside him, he towered above her, well over six foot tall.