Page 10 of A Night with Damien Spur

Her delicious reverie was shattered by David Rose rasping up the stairs like a scratchy violin. ‘Anna, Anna, pick up the bloody phone! Your mother’s on the line.’

She heard, but waited for David to repeat himself. Just to annoy him.

‘Anna, I said pick up the phone. Why can’t you ask her to ring your mobile? I’m trying to watch the news!’

‘Didn’t hear you – the television was so loud.’ Anna stretched out her arm and grasped the extension on the bedside table.

‘Hello, Mother. Yes, I can take you for your blood test… I’ll pick you up at ten. Brunch, oh, that would be nice… We could go to Antoine’s, and I can drive straight on to work and you can get a taxi home… Yuh, I’m okay. Not the life I hoped for, but things can change. Thank goodness I have my little job. I meet some very interesting people… Okay, Mummy, see you tomorrow.’

***

Evelyn felt guilty that Anna’s life had taken a dip. David Rose. Who could have predicted his demise?

But then again, looking back to those heady days in thesouth of France, their frequent visits to the casino should have been a clue.

Silly fool, she was. Impressed by the largesse of the house. All that complimentary vintage champagne and copious amounts of caviar. It had suited Evelyn very well. She loved drinking. Why bother to kick the habit?

But this morning she sat with her daughter at Antoine’s, both perfectly suited and coiffed, sipping orange pekoe tea.

The good-looking Indian gent at a neighbouring table turned to stare at Anna.

Happy to be noticed, Anna gave him a coy little smile.

Evelyn shifted closer. ‘You see! You’ve still got it. How can you waste your life with a man who offers you nothing anymore? When is he leaving? Ridiculous, living with your ex! What a turn-off for any male.’ Evelyn lanced the top of her boiled egg with a vicious flick of the wrist. ‘I mean it, darling. You are ruining your life. You need someone to look after you. Neither a nurse nor a purse should you be.’

Anna patted a flake of croissant from her plate and licked it from her finger with her pink little tongue.

The Indian gent was mesmerised.

She glanced at her mother, who sat with a silly smile on her face, pretending not to notice that the man was ready to make a pitch.

I don’t want this, Mother. You’ve done all right, but I want more. I want to be like Claudia. Rock bottom she was after her failed marriage, and look at her now – a world-classtarot-card reader. Busy morning till night with A-list film stars, artists, bankers, entrepreneurs, doctors and even royalty.

***

Damien had woken up with a searing headache. His mobile was ringing. Who the hell would call at 11 p.m.?

He grabbed the phone and put it on loudspeaker.

‘Damien, where are you?’

Damien winced. ‘Oh shit, Aidan. I forgot we were meeting.’

‘We said 11 p.m. at the Haunt. I brought you the fish-scale cocaine. This is the purest you can get, Damien, my good fellow. A couple of lines goes a long way. It’s more expensive than the normal blow, but worth the high… Only don’t worry if you can’t make it – there are plenty of punters here who would be more than happy to buy the stuff instead.’ Aidan’s voice had a slippery edge that Damien hated.

‘No, it’s mine. No fill-ins. I’m coming now.’ He hung up with a sigh and got out of bed.

You’re really not all there, Damien. Just look at yourself,said the Voice. If you don’t get clean, you’re going to end up with a heart attack.

Damien winked at himself in the hall mirror. ‘Come on, it’s not that bad. Just a few lines tonight and a bit of keep-fit with the girls.’

***

The Haunt was full of illicit delights. An exclusive members’ club in Mayfair for those special punters who had passed the exacting criteria. Money, power, charisma and discretion.

A private place where public figures could lay down their armour and surrender to their secret passions and fantasies and know that each and every one of them had been sworn to a confidential oath never to reveal their fellow guests.

The punishment of indiscretion? A serious accident.

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