Part 3 (2/2)

I nodded and hurried to the shower, wondering why they bothered installing a hot tap when the cold alone was so balmy. As I towelled off, I saw a new text message on my phone.

Glad you're safe. C has new fascination with Tooth Fairy. Wants me to a.s.sess wobbliness of each fang before bed. D got a call from chairman about The Email-M & D send their love. Channel 4 wants an interview.

Miss u. Fran x.

b.o.l.l.o.c.ks. Putting my face on in the bathroom, I called Fran on loudspeaker.

'Good morning, this is Clementine, how may I erect your call?'

As I laughed I drew a charcoal stroke from left nostril to earlobe in eye-pencil. 's.h.i.+t.'

'I beg your pardon?' demanded Clem.

'Clem, it's Aunty Ruby, sorry-I just accidentally drew on my face.'

'Well, h.e.l.lo, Aunty Wooby, I am sorry about your face but that is no reason to say square words.'

'Sorry, Clem. Is Mummy there?'

'MUMMY! AUNTY WOOBY IS ON THE PHONE AND SHE SAID ”s.h.i.+T”!>'

'Ruby, you didn't,' said Fran, on the bedroom extension. 'Clem said ”erect”,' I defended myself, dabbing at my calligraphy with make-up remover.

'Hang up now, please, Clementine.' Clunk.

'I should thank you, I guess,' said Fran. 'Perhaps a new love for profanities will replace her obsession with the Tooth Fairy.'

'Surely it's just a little bit sweet,' I said, imagining my niece standing on 'tipsy toes' at the bathroom sink, watching for wiggles in the mirror.

'Sweet? No. Annoying? Yes. We're off to the dentist this morning. Poor man. I'm a bad mother if I don't constantly check for loose teeth and I'm a bad mother for propagating the fallacy that a small, very generous lady is known to spend her evenings breaking into homes to look beneath children's pillows, taking discarded bodily items for a few quid. Why do we do it? She's going to hate me when she discovers the truth.'

'She'll hate you if she's the only little girl at school who doesn't get money from the Tooth Fairy,' I said. 'Is Daddy very upset?'

'No, not about the email. In fact, Mummy forwarded it to her colleagues on the bench. She couldn't be prouder. Daddy's furious with the bank. They are understandably hurt that you didn't call them to say you'd lost your job and absconded to Australia.'

'I just haven't had time,' I said, 'and besides, they're in Paraguay.'

'Uruguay.'

'I get my guays confused.'

'You are staying with Mummy's sister, Ruby. The least you could do is send her a text. They said they emailed but you didn't reply.'

'That's because my email address belongs to my former employer. I'll call them tonight. When are they due back?' 'Next week. Tell me, how's Australia?'

'Lovely. Flight was great. I slept all the way. Quite sure I drooled on the man next to me. I don't have a room here because Pansy used it to deliver her pups. Very sweet little pink fluff-b.a.l.l.s. I'll take a photo for Clem. The Yarra Valley is breathtaking.' I took her off loudspeaker. 'Aunt Daphne seems very happy with Debs.'

'What's she like?' I could hear her filing her nails in the background and felt homesick.

'Debs is about as graceful as a Hummer but looks like Cleopatra on a date night,' I whispered, vigorously brus.h.i.+ng the knots from my hair. 'Daphne's like a relaxed, younger version of Mummy and clearly loves being a baker. We had fresh sourdough for supper. How's Mark?'

'Fine.' The filing accelerated. 'If you like that sort of thing.'

I stopped brus.h.i.+ng and put her back on loudspeaker. 'What sort of thing?'

'Absenteeism,' she sighed. 'Clem hardly sees him. He's always ”in conference” according to his PA. Last night he got home at half three and left at seven. When do you think you'll be home?'

'I only 'ust 'ot 'ere,' I said, blotting my lipstick. 'I'm going to a party tonight at a local winery. The Immigration man wasn't particularly pleased by the idea of me overstaying my visa.'

'Nor am I.' It hadn't occurred to me that she might miss me, but a blip in her voice told me she did. 'Make sure you stay away from that peanut noise tonight,' she joked.

'Talk soon.'

I pulled on the sky-blue maxi-dress I bought during the Net-A-Porter sale last year and left the bathroom feeling refreshed. A hint of sunlight had already kissed my cheeks and the in-flight sleep had erased the grey circles beneath my eyes. The dress, which I had only just cut the tags off, made my irises appear bluer and whites whiter. It also made the molehills on my chest appear even smaller, so I rifled through my Toolkit for the One Cup Ups and made mountains of them, even if they were day-hike mountains as opposed to the more exotic alt.i.tude-sickness-inducing ones my ex used to climb for fun. It might have worked if he'd spent more time mounting me. I stepped into tan Miu Miu wedges-the open toe freeing my still-swollen digit-and fastened the clasps on the coral earrings Daddy had bought me in Positano.

In the fogged-up corner of the bathroom mirror, I wrote: 1. Call parents 2. Check email 3. Buy bronzer 4. Stop writing To Do lists-you're on holiday.

The party's party.

A gunmetal-grey Aston Martin grumbled as it pulled up in front of the house. Its mechanical roof lowered, revealing Debs. 's.h.i.+t, you scrub up all right,' she said. 'Jump in. I've just muted this conference call-client wants to embark on an IP dispute with a Chinese JV partner-mind if I do this on speaker while we drive?'

'By all means.' I knew she was a successful lawyer, but her personality lent itself more to hard hat than wig.

The sound of an under-populated boardroom on speaker-phone was familiar to me. Debs cut in across a distressed middle-aged man. 'Listen guys, I could spin you a whole lot of bulls.h.i.+t about how we could stop these f.u.c.kers, but I'd be lying. Bottom line is this: Australia doesn't have a reciprocal enforcement of judgment treaty with China, so even if we took 'em to court here and won, which would take time and cost millions, we'd end up with a bit of paper worth less than a square of loo roll in China. The Chinese have got a billion people to think about, so they couldn't give a flying f.u.c.k about a bunch of Aussie lawyers with their undies in a twist. Here's my advice: hang up, go forth and enjoy the rest of your weekend. Let bygones be bygones, gentlemen.'

They took her advice. It was poetic: the best counsel I'd ever heard.

'When I was a banker, working on big deals,' I said, hating the past tense, 'I'd have called the lawyers every day if they gave commercial advice like that.'

'That's the general idea,' said Debs, plugging her iPod into the car and selecting some opera. 'I love my clients and my clients love me cos I don't bulls.h.i.+t them.'

We zoomed around the valley, the high beams spotlighting a host of hand-painted signs pointing to tiny wineries. We stopped at one.

'Call us when you're ready to be picked up.'

'Aren't you coming in?' I was suddenly nervous.

'Nah,' Debs said, 'you'll be right-just find Benedict Jones.'

I walked up the drive and was greeted by a gentleman wearing a hideous pinstripe suit.

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