‘Sold? Why?’ Giles knew that I couldn’t be short of money. I’d always been careful with money – a little tight, if Giles were honest – and even after his fifteen per cent and the tax deductions by HMRC, I could not have been left wanting after the advance of Yellow Teeth. The advance had already been earned out by foreign rights sales.
I could only shrug. ‘This place too. It’ll go next . . .’ And then I stopped myself and glanced at the door. As if on cue, a toilet flushed downstairs, followed by a door opening and closing.
I had company.
Right then, Giles noticed that several items of discarded clothing didn’t belong to me, a large brassiere and a pair of opaque, patterned tights.
He looked to me for some direction, some explanation, but none was forthcoming. I continued to stare at the diningroom door in anticipation of one who would soon step through it. ‘They’ll be here soon,’ I said, and my bearded mouth settled into a sneer. ‘They want to be present.’
‘Who?’ Giles asked.
I never answered him.
‘Seb. Are you . . . I mean, are you all right?’
‘Do I look it?’ My bloodshot eyes had filmed and glistened with tears. ‘Seeing you, my old friend, just brings it back.’
‘What?’
‘How it was. Before.’
‘I don’t follow. Before what, Seb?’
And then Giles’s attention was drawn towards the door, and to the arched entrance of the kitchen beyond the dining room. Giles even started at the sight of the two women who had appeared, as if from thin air, and who now stood within the two entrances.
The woman with the long hair, dyed a vivid magenta, seemed barely able to contain her excitement, though what she was so ecstatic about escaped Giles. The second woman, with the short blonde hair, smiled at him, but not in any way that could be described as warm. Her expression was close to provocation, as if she had just caught us talking behind her back.
Giles stood up. ‘Hello.’
He looked to me to prompt a round of introductions. But I continued to gaze, morosely, at the ceiling.
The woman with the short hair came into the room and sat on the arm of my chair and Giles must have noticed how I withdrew from her presence as she sat down. She wore a black dress complemented by bright costume jewellery. Expensive glasses framed her carefully painted eyes.
The second woman came out of the kitchen, but sat at a distance and at the dining table. She drew out a chair carefully as if she had entered a crowded room while a speech was in progress. She was wearing one of those gossamer, hippy-chic dresses and high-heeled shoes.
‘Well. Introductions are in order,’ said the woman who’d sat beside me.
‘This is Wendy,’ I said, without looking at the woman on my left. ‘And that’s Natalie,’
‘Pleased to meet you. Giles White,’ Giles said, looking from side to side in bemusement as the room bloomed with the scent of Chanel perfume.
‘It’s been so exciting to see the last book received with such enthusiasm,’ Wendy said. ‘And we’re delighted to tell you that Seb has been working on something else, something very special. Though we think the publisher can do a bit better with what they pay him for his work. Particularly as there’ll be nothing else like it, out there.’
I watched Giles shift in his seat. ‘Sorry, who are . . . ?’ He turned away from Wendy’s amused and mocking face. ‘Seb, I’m sorry, but we really should be discussing this more formally. Why don’t we take a walk? We could pop into that pub we went to last time—’
‘What’s wrong with here?’ Wendy asked. ‘And you don’t need a pub to get drunk in. Seb’s happy to do that anywhere these days.’
I lowered my eyes to the floor when she spoke about me. I felt my thin body shudder within that wretched bathrobe.
‘But he’s been very busy,’ Wendy added. ‘Hit a rich vein. You could say he’s been channelling something unique.’
Maintaining a stiff smile, Giles struggled to restrain his temper. ‘There’s material for the new book? Is that so, Seb? I must say, it’s all news to me.’
‘Well it would be, wouldn’t it, with you so far away, with your lunches and things, your authors and parties in London?’ Wendy emphasized ‘London’ as if she had singled the city out for particular scorn.
‘Wendy,’ Giles said, in a voice that was barely keeping a lid on his crimson thoughts, ‘would you mind if I spoke to my client alone? We’ve some business to discuss. That’s why I am here. That’s why I have travelled all the way down from London. Isn’t that so, Seb? To discuss business with my client.’
‘We have a full involvement in our partner’s work,’ Wendy said. ‘There’s nothing about Seb or his books, or his agreements with you, that we are not conversant with, Giles.’
‘Seb?’ Giles said. His bewilderment waged a war with his anger at this woman’s manner. And yes, the more he considered the situation, the more aware he became of the tension that the women had introduced into the room. I could read it in his eyes.