Page 27 of Too Busy for Love

‘Thank you.’

‘That’s better. Right, I’m taking charge as of now. We’ve got a lot to do before we reopen.’

‘Sorry,’ I say gently. ‘I’m not sure I heard you right. You’re reopening?’

‘Of course we are. We’re losing money hand over fist every day we’re closed. We’ll have to change the business model a little, but that’s not the end of the world.’

‘You mean, operate purely as a hotel?’ I ask hopefully. Maybe that wouldn’t be too bad, although I don’t like the idea of working for Maria at all. However, it would give me somewhere in London to live and an income while I look for something else.

‘Don’t be daft. We’ll never make any money that way. We’ll still offer extras but, rather than using our own in-house resource, we’ll have to make arrangements with some local providers I know. It won’t be as profitable, and we’ll need a bit of a rebrand to keep the police out of our faces, but we were always ready for this.’

‘What?’ Jock looks up from the two plates he’s just placed our breakfast on. ‘Are you telling me youplannedfor this?’

‘Naturally. You don’t go into this business without a plan B.’

‘And what was yours?’ I ask. I’m fascinated and horrified by her in equal measure.

‘Simple. Madame takes the hit. She was always going to get custodial with her history, so it made sense. I throw myself on the mercy of the pigs and sell her down the river in the hope of getting non-custodial. I then look after her business interests until she’s released and everything goes back to normal.’

‘It’s a lot of trust to put in you,’ I observe. ‘You must be really close.’

‘Of course we are,’ she states as if I’m stupid. ‘She’s my mum.’

Of all the things I expected Maria to say, that one never crossed my mind, and I think my mouth might be open in surprise.

‘She’s your mother?’ Jock repeats slowly, as if trying to comprehend it himself. ‘You kept that pretty secret.’

‘It wasn’t a secret. We just didn’t advertise it.’

‘You don’t look alike,’ I observe.

‘I probably look like my dad, whoever the hell he is.’

‘So your mum got pregnant with you?—’

‘When she was working, yes. It happens. Right, are you two going to stand around gawping all day, or are you going to get some clothes on and get to work?’

‘What happens if we decide we don’t want to work here any more?’ Jock asks softly.

‘Then you pack your bags and fuck off.’

‘You owe us a week’s pay.’

‘You’re having a laugh. You seriously expect to be paid when you’ve been swanning around enjoying free board and lodging at Madame’s expense?’ She marches over to one of the fridges. ‘Where’s all the food gone?’

‘We had to give most of it away,’ Jock explains. ‘It would have gone off otherwise.’

She narrows her eyes as she stares at him, evidently trying to work out if he’s pulled a fast one or not. ‘Fine,’ she says eventually. ‘This is how it’s going to go. I’m going to draw a line under last week but anything you eat and drink in here from now on comes out of your wages. Do you understand?’

‘Perfectly,’ Jock replies. ‘We won’t hold you up any longer, will we, Beatrice?’ He gently takes my hand and starts to lead me out of the kitchen.

‘Oi!’ Maria cries. ‘What about all of this?’ She waves at the two plates and cups of cappuccino.

‘Oh, I made that for you,’ he tells her. ‘Welcome home and bon appetit.’

Neither of us speaks until we’re safely in the sanctuary of Jock’s bedroom on the top floor.

‘The sooner we go, the better,’ I say to him. ‘There’s no way I’m working for her.’

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