Page 91 of Hearts of Stone

“Gods above…” Mellors hissed. “What monster have I created?”

“Two hundred thousand!”

After shouting out her bid, Prunella leapt to her feet in victory. Well, she got up as fast as a woman of her age could manage. She looked about ten years younger as the elation of being the highest bidder hit her, which meant she appeared to be approximately one hundred and ten. But that joy quickly wore off. Her brow creased as silence reigned over the entire room, which meant the implications of what she’d done had time to sink in. I grinned like a loon, then tilted my head at Prunie by way of a salute, because the real damn winner was the charity. The representative said something to that effect, her cheeks positively glowing as she beamed at the camera as the obligatory photo was taken with the not-so-happy winning bidder.

“What the hell got into you, Nana?” Mr Suit asked, as he escorted her from the stage. “I’ll be over on Sunday for lunch like I am every week. You needn’t have bid for me…”

“Oh, well done,” Mellors said under his breath.

“I like this game, Mell Mell. I like it a lot.”

“Good, because if you call me by that name again, I’ll consider it notice of severance and I’ll be forwarding your file to someone else at my firm forthwith.”

“Not Grandmaster Mellie Mel?”

“Jade…”

“Jimmy Bob?”

“My middle name is Antony, not Robert,” he said.

“Oh, of course it is. How about…?”

My voice trailed away as the next ‘item’ was brought up to the lectern. Adam stood there with a completely different vibe to Mr Suit. His hands were behind his back and he wore a somewhat sheepish expression as the female contingent of the Adeluminati all turned to stare.

“Because the last ‘item’…” The compere winked dramatically. Gag. “…was so popular, we’ve roped in another one of our boys to step up and be ‘sold’.” She produced a gilt card, with a flourish. “An all-expenses-paid dinner at The Mayflower restaurant in the company of the very eligible Adam Whiteley.”

His name was Adam Stuart. I knew that much about him. The woman beamed out at the crowd, but when I looked around, I saw a very different reaction than Mr Suit had got. They eyed him like he was a nag at market. There was none of the previous amusement and jostling, and I knew why. People like me and Adam weren’t well represented at a place like this. While there seemed to be an infinite number of Savoy-Draper-Some Other Snooty Name type people here, there weren’t a lot that claimed kinship with us. But it was more than that. I knew an outsider when I saw one. I was Jade Barlow, he was Adam Stuart, but for us to exist here we had to be rebranded as Whiteley. Rich enough to earn a place, but not good enough to be equals. I crossed my arms, the fabric of the expensive jacket pulling tight across my shoulders.

“Well…” The compere’s smile dimmed a little. “If we’re ready to start bidding, I’ll begin at one thousand?” Mr Suit had started at ten thousand and he hadn’t filled his suit anywhere near as well. “Anyone?”

Oh my god, the silence was what had my paddle whipping up, because a whole bunch of core memories were being dragged up as every awkward second passed by. Of being called last when teachers made us select our own teams for sport, because Jade was too gumby to catch a ball. Of having people shove me in the hall, yank my ponytail, and mock anyone who dared to be my friend. And when I found a group of misfits just like me in high school, then they were mocked as well. We told each other we didn’t care, that at least we weren’t as basic as those bitches,but… No one liked being put on the spot, only to have their true standing in the group laid bare for everyone to see.

“One hundred,” I said, flipping up my paddle.

“Surely we can start the bidding at a thousand, ladies?” the compere said, casting around for support.

“Thousand,” I amended. “You didn’t let me finish.”

“One hundred thousand?” The auctioneer queried, peering closely at me.

“One—” someone else started to say.

“One hundred and fifty thousand,” I countered.

That started everyone mumbling. I’d seen this shit before. Once someone started bestowing value on something previously seen as worthless, some people, at least, would start to look at it differently, wondering why. I watched women whispering furiously to others close to them, and paddles started to rise.

“Remember, this is for the creation of a brand-new women’s shelter,” the compere said. “Out in the northern suburbs, of course.”

“Two hundred thousand,” I said.

“Bidding against yourself isnotpart of the process,” Mellors murmured, though with humour in his tone. But it wasn’t him I was focussed on, it was Adam. He straightened up, his smile fading, but something else replacing it. His blue eyes burned into mine, creating a strange kind of kinship that went beyond the very distant blood bond we had. Adam nodded to me just once as the bidding started to rage. Women were speaking over each other and hissing when someone else took their bid. The compere fought to create calm, but where she was failing, I was going to win.

“How much does the women’s shelter need for the new building?” I asked Mellors.

“2.2 million. But, Jade—”

“Do I have enough to cover that?”

---