Part 26 (1/2)

Crystal gave a little tinkly laugh. She was half in love with Adam already.

'And I am getting to know all about you, Mr MacLean, or should I say Mr MacQueen.'

'All good things, I hope,' he sparkled back.

'Well, if the hero of Highland Fling is based on you, I think we can expect to have a bit of a bestseller on our hands.'

What was that name she'd asked for at first? B something or other? Adam reached over and picked up a nearby Midnight Moon by Betty Proctor and said craftily, 'Do you think it will be better than Forever in Dreams?'

'Oh, good G.o.d, I hope so. Betty Proctor isn't a patch on Beatrice Pollen. She only lasted two books. Bea, sorry, Stevie, has a very great following. Can you ask her to give me a ring and tell her, in the interim, that I love Damme MacQueen, I love Evie Sweetwell and I want the rest of the chapters of Highland Fling finished ASAP. I'll simply die if he doesn't kiss her soon.'

'I will do that indeed.'

'And tell Miss Honeywell that she is a very dark horse and I expect a full update when she calls. She'll know what that means.' Crystal gave a very salacious giggle and finished with a 'ciao' that was as rich as a tiramisu. Adam put the phone down slowly. Well, well, well! No wonder she wouldn't tell him what she did after all the scorn he had, inadvertently, poured on her stories. So that's why there were Beatrice Pollen books all over the place. He worked his way along the shelf until he came to a book written by Ms Pollen, then he got himself a coffee from the nice full percolator that belonged to Beatrice, aka Stevie, settled down with book and breakfast in the sunroom, and began to read.

Matthew rang Jo to see if she wanted to go out for lunch but once again, she declined. Then their paths crossed when he was going out for 'his dentist's appointment'. She scurried away from him, which confused him, because he thought they were friends again now, what with all that s.e.x and promise of more. She looked quite worried about something. Maybe it was delayed shock after what he had told her last night. He would buy her a present on the way back from the bank, he decided.

'Flaming heck!' said Robert Gilroy, Matthew's account handler. He looked about twelve and made Matthew feel the same age with comments like, 'What a blooming mess!' No doubt he would send out for las.h.i.+ngs of ginger beer in a minute.

Matthew nodded regretfully.

'Is this the full picture or is there more? People do tend to hide stuff and it's hardly wise if you want help.'

'That's it,' said Matthew. 'Honestly.'

Robert Gilroy tapped away on his laptop, and then twisted it round for Matthew to see.

'That's how much interest you're paying per month at the moment on all your debt.'

'b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l and a half,' gulped Matthew.

'The thing is, we've given you one consolidated loan already and what did you pay off?'

'Er...' said Matthew, feeling that he was going to be asked to bend over in a moment and have a cane applied to his rear end.

'Enough said, I think,' said Robert Gilroy. 'For a person who earns this much money per annum, you should have a good amount of disposable income. I'm having trouble believing how you actually manage to eat.'

'I need help,' admitted Matthew, closer to tears than he had been in years. 'I'm a spendaholic.'

'Do you spend to make yourself feel better? Spend to win and influence people?'

'Yes.'

'Have you considered counselling in tandem with this?'

'I can't afford any,' said Matthew despairingly.

'It's free if you go through your doctor.'

'I may need to,' said Matthew. 'But so far as the actual money goes, can you help?'

'Well, yep,' said Robert Gilroy, and watched as Matthew's tense shoulders dropped with relief. 'You'll be tied to this debt for at least five years but it will give you breathing s.p.a.ce to have some quality of life. The debt will be cheaper if you secure it against your home, obviously. That wouldn't be a problemyou have plenty of equity in the house, I see. How solid is your job?'

'Rock solid,' said Matthew with absolute surety. He was good at his job, knew what he was doing and the company was financially stable and growing healthily so there were no worries about securing the loan against his house.

'Right, now get out your plastic,' said Robert Gilroy.

'Whatnow?'

'Yep.'

'All of it?' Matthew started to cold sweat.

'On our own card account we can give you zero per cent interest for fourteen months. You will be able to transfer sixty per cent of your debt over to it, but when the card itself arrives, I suggest you cut it up, although I haven't said that. Okay, let's have the cards.'

Matthew felt like a child that had been asked to turn out his pockets and have all his sweets confiscated. For his own good though, before they rotted all his teeth.

Robert Gilroy handed him a pair of scissors.

'I've got a present to buy. For my girlfriend,' Matthew whimpered as the scissors sc.r.a.ped his emergency Goldfish.

'Give her a ma.s.sage,' said Robert Gilroy. 'She'll only moan that you've made her fat if you buy chocolates.'

'I was thinking of a gold necklace.'

Robert Gilroy raised his eyebrows. 'She'll leave you anyway if you continue to wake up screaming and sweating in the middle of the night because you're so debt-ridden. If your heart doesn't give out first. Cut, please.'

Matthew sliced. So severe was the pain, he had to look down because he thought he had cut his finger off.

Chapter 44.

When Stevie came home with four big bags of shopping, it was to find Adam MacLean in the sunroom, nearing the middle of a book. He had tidied around and vacuumed up. Something else she couldn't remember Matthew doing much of.

'h.e.l.lo,' he greeted her.

'h.e.l.lo,' she said a trifle awkwardly. She still hadn't quite got over the embarra.s.sment of their little staged scrabble on the floor. She had kept having burning flashbacks since. Then she realized what he was reading: Winter of Content by herself in disguise as Beatrice Pollen. It was one of her more pa.s.sionate pieces, in which an imaginary Grand Duke of Russia falls for a servant girl. She tried to ignore the fact that he was reading it. At least he didn't know she'd written it, for then, she suspected, her life wouldn't be worth living.

'I had a day off today. Didn't bring any books to read with me so I thought I'd have a go at this,' he explained.

'Oh right,' said Stevie. She refused to give him any ammunition to shoot her with and acted disinterested.

'I can see now why people buy them. There's actually quite a nice story go'n on here.'

'Yes,' she said, but not trusting him. There was a sting around the corner, she could almost smell it. He put it down, saving the page he was on with a comb from his pocket.