Page 5 of Joker in the Pack

“That’s not really any of your business.”

She nodded, and I thought she tried for a sympathetic smile, but nothing much moved. “Affair, then.”

Was it really that obvious? My sigh confirmed her suspicions.

“You know, sometimes it’s better to forgive a few little transgressions when they’re holding the credit cards.”

Maybe she wasn’t so different from me. After all, I’d considered doing just that, hadn’t I?

But I couldn’t. My mother may have tried to stop me believing in Cinderella, but I still wanted the fairy tale. A man who came home to me, and only me. I didn’t want to be the girl waiting in his thousand-thread-count sheets while he was out entertaining his latest plaything.

No, I’d rather be single, no matter how much I might have been hurting.

“So, how did it go?”

Maddie phoned at eight in the morning, and my head still hurt from the four martinis Botox-lady had poured into me last night.

“Not so well. I got groped, and then Jackie Collins’s long-lost sister corrupted me.”

After Maddie finished laughing, she had a hiccupping fit.

“It’s not funny. All I wanted was a quiet night out, and the only man I managed to attract was more like an octopus.”

“Oh, it is a little bit funny. Look on the plus side—if your mother were alive, she’d march you right back to the bar and insist you get his phone number.”

Maddie meant it as a joke, but the shame of it was she was exactly right. Before my mother’s passing, she’d attempted to impart many pearls of wisdom, and one of her favourites related to my choice of future husband.

“Olivia,” she’d said. “You need to put a price on your heart, and don’t you dare sell yourself cheap. Set your sights high. Find a doctor, a lawyer, or a banker—preferably one with a family seat and a title.”

Well, last night’s pervert had the title, while Edward had certainly fulfilled her career specification, and now look at me. At the moment, my net worth was more akin to a bottle of Lambrini and a box of Milk Tray than the champagne and caviar she’d dreamed of. My mother would turn in her grave if she saw the state of me, sprawled on the sofa wearing week-old pyjamas and the pair of Bugs Bunny slippers Maddie gave me last Christmas.

“Mother only wanted the best for me.”

“She read you DeBrett’s etiquette guide at bedtime, Liv. Most little girls got Rapunzel or Cinderella.”

“I’ll concede she wasn’t very fond of Cinderella.”

Okay, so she’d hated Cinderella and her lack of effort to make a better life for herself. I’d once asked for a pair of glass slippers, but Mother had only scoffed.

“Fancy leaving something like that to fate,” she’d said. “If you want to find your Prince Charming, you’ll need to go out and hunt for him.”

“Where?” At fourteen years old, I couldn’t exactly go far.

“You can start by joining the debating society as I suggested, young lady. Every girl should strive to raise her profile.”

The debating society. One hour after school every Wednesday. Better than walking around with a book on my head or practising which cutlery to use, which was what Mother would have made me do otherwise. I’d signed up and spent the whole year sitting at the back and saying as little as possible. Maddie had joined too, for moral support, although she’d been far more vocal than me.

Now was no different.

“Liv, I know she was your mum, but she made you live the life she wanted rather than the one you wanted. I mean, she’d have loved Edward, wouldn’t she?”

“Yes, but I did too, once.”

“Don’t defend what he did. It was inexcusable.”

“I know… It’s just I hate being alone.”

“You’re not alone. We’ll go out at the weekend, just you and me, and we’ll have some proper fun. You’ll see.”

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