The Prisoner(24)

Better for me to be quiet.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX


PAST

On Thursday, our last day in Vegas, Ned took the afternoon off. We went out for lunch, and he ordered yet more champagne to celebrate both my birthday and Paul Martin finally agreeing to an interview for Exclusives. We’d had to stay longer than Ned had intended to secure it; by the time we flew out the next day, we would have been gone for six days.

“Justine is going to be thrilled,” I said, when Ned told me. “Have you told her yet?”

“No, because I want to be able to see her face. So, no letting the cat out of the bag.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “I bet you can’t wait to get back.”

He drained his glass. “Actually, no. I wish I could stay here forever.”

“Why?”

He twirled the stem of the flute between his finger and thumb, a habit of his. “Because my parents are pressuring me to marry a girl that I don’t want to marry. They’ve invited her and her parents to stay next weekend and they’re expecting me to propose to her. She’s a nice girl, I’ve known her for years. But I’m not going to marry her, even for the sake of the Hawthorpe Foundation.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He signaled to the waiter, who brought over the red wine that Ned had asked him to decant into a carafe.

“She’s Isobel Algerson, Steve Algerson’s daughter,” Ned explained as the waiter poured a little wine into his glass. “He and my father are great friends, and Steve has donated millions to the foundation. My mother and Priscilla Algerson are best friends, their son, Matt, is my best friend, so our marriage would be a win-win situation for everyone.” He took his glass, breathed the scent of the wine in through his nose, then nodded to the waiter. “Except me,” he added, as the waiter filled our glasses.

I smiled my thanks to the waiter. “How does Isobel feel about you? If she doesn’t want to marry you, that would make everything alright, wouldn’t it?”

“Unfortunately, she’s been told from an early age that I’m her destiny.” He raised his glass toward me. “Here’s to my marriage.”

We clinked our glasses together.

“But nobody can force you to marry her,” I said.

He gave a grim laugh. “Have you met my father? I’m already a huge disappointment to him because of the magazine, and to my mother, because I’m still unmarried at thirty-three.”

“Don’t you want to get married?”

“Yes, but not to Isobel Algerson. She’s not the sort of girl I want to marry.”

“What sort of girl do you want to marry?”

“Someone my parents would disapprove of, just to annoy them and get them off my back. That’s why my father is so against the magazine. He’s afraid I’m going to end up marrying a pop star or actress, which wouldn’t be in keeping with the image he wishes to portray for his precious foundation. He thinks that everyone I meet is a drug user, and he has told me that my future wife can’t have any history with regard to drugs.” He gave a dry laugh. “It makes Isobel the perfect wife for me. Not only has she never touched drugs, but she also works as a volunteer for an addiction and mental health charity.” He looked at me. “Have you ever used drugs?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Not even smoked a joint?”

“Not even. What about you?”

“Believe it or not, I haven’t. I vowed I wouldn’t after my brother died.” He held up his wineglass. “This is my vice.”

“I don’t really drink either. In fact, I’ve probably drank more this lunchtime than I have in my whole life.”

He lapsed into silence, and I didn’t know whether he hadn’t heard what I said or if he was thinking about it. I took a sip of wine, so smooth and velvety that I took another sip.

“It’s a Chateau Margaux,” he said, and I realized he’d been watching me.

I laughed. “I have no idea what that is.”

He smiled. “A very nice wine.”

“Then I’ll make sure to remember the name.”

“Actually Amelie, the reason I mentioned my marriage is because I have a proposition for you. A business proposition,” he added, stressing the word business.

“Oh?” I said, intrigued.

“From what you’ve told me, you’ve been working for the last couple of years to be able to pay for yourself to go to college.”

“That’s right.”

“How much does it cost to go to college nowadays?”

“Without a grant? Around twenty thousand a year, for fees and accommodation, maybe more. Then there’s living expenses and books. So, between twenty-five thousand and thirty thousand.”

“And how many years are you planning on being at college?”

“A basic law degree is three years. And then I’ll hopefully have a two-year training contract with a good law firm.”

“So, you’re looking at an outlay of around a hundred thousand for three years.”

“Not quite,” I said, wincing inwardly at the amount. “But I hope to get a grant, and I’ll have to get a part-time job to cover the rest.”