‘It’s February. You’ll catch your death of cold!’
‘Mum, I’m twenty, you’re not allowed to nag me any more.’ But secretly Lola enjoyed it.
Hugging her mother in return, she then teasingly lifted the hem of her top to show off her toffee-brown Majorcan tan.
‘You’ll be frostbitten once we get outside.’ Taking one of Lola’s squashy travelling bags, Blythe began threading her way through the crowded airport to the exit. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to pull a jumper out of your case?’
‘Quite sure. What’s the point of being browner than anyone else and covering it all up with a jumper? Oh Mum, stop a moment, let me hug you again. I’ve missed you so much.’
‘You daft thing. How’s it going with Stevie?’
‘It’s gone. I’m not seeing him any more. We drifted apart.’ Lola smiled to show how little it mattered. Stevie had been fun but their relationship had never been serious. Patting her stomachshe said, ‘And I’m starving. Are we going straight home or shall I pick up a burger here?’
‘No burgers today. We’re eating out. Alex is treating us to lunch,’ said Blythe. ‘He’s booked a table at Emerson’s in Piccadilly.’
‘Whoo-hoo, lunch at Emerson’s.There’s posh,’ Lola marvelled. ‘What have we done to deserve this?’
Blythe gave her arm a squeeze. ‘No special reason, love. It’s just wonderful to have you back.’
Her mother had been lying. There was a special reason. Alex waited until they’d chosen their food before ordering a bottle of champagne.
‘Alex, have you gone mad?’ And it was real champagne. This was plain reckless; when Lola had been growing up she’d never even been allowed proper Coca-Cola at home, only the pretend kind because it was cheaper.
‘I’m out of the business,’ said Alex as the waiter brought the bottle to the table.
‘Oh no.’ Lola’s heart sank; then again she’d always known it was a risky venture. Following her departure from home three years ago, Alex had given up gambling, just like that. Since that terrible time when they’d almost lost him he hadn’t so much as joined in a sweepstake on the Grand National. He had given up visiting his snooker club too. Instead he had stayed at home every night, becoming more and more interested in the business opportunities being offered up by the fast-expanding internet. When he’d come up with a germ of an idea for a web-based hotel booking service, Lola had listened and nodded politely without really understanding how it might work. As far as she was concerned Alex could have been yabbering away in Elvish. All this internetty stuff sounded pretty far-fetched to her; she’d had very little to do with it herself.
But Alex had persisted, eventually setting up a company and working on it in his spare time.
Then last year he’d given up his job at the garage in order to devote more hours to it. Lola had been under the impression that things were going rather well.
Oh God ... she hoped he hadn’t slipped and gone back to gambling.
‘So’ Here came the sick feeling of dread again. ‘What went wrong?’
Alex’s eyes crinkled at the corners, the lines emphasised by the light from the candle on the table.
‘Nothing went wrong. It was too much for me to handle. I’d have needed to take on staff, find proper offices ... I couldn’t deal with everything myself.’
Lola nodded. ‘Mum said you were working all hours.’
‘I never imagined it would take off like that. It was incredible, but it was scary. Then another company approached me,’ Alex explained. ‘They offered to buy me out.’
‘Oh! Well, that must have been a relief.’As long as Alex wasn’t gambling again, she was happy.
‘It is a relief.’ Alex gravely nodded in agreement and raised his fizzing glass. ‘So here’s to us.’
‘To us.’ Lola enthusiastically clinked glasses with them both and took a big gulp of delicious icy-cold champagne.
‘By the way,’ said Alex, ‘I sold the business for one point six million.’
Luckily the champagne had already disappeared down her throat, otherwise she’d have sprayed it across the table like a garden sprinkler.
‘Are you serious?’
‘It’s true!’ Blythe’s eyes danced. ‘You don’t know how hard it’s been for me not to tell you. I nearly blurted it out at the airport!’
‘My God,’ Lola breathed.
‘And this is for you.’ Alex took a folded cheque from his inside pocket and passed it across the table.
‘My God.’ Lola’s hands began to tremble as she counted the noughts, then recounted them. For several seconds she couldn’t speak. Her mother had never found out about the traumatic events of three years ago, which made it all the more difficult to say what she wanted to say. But Alex, although he hadn’t needed to, was paying her back many, many times over. It was too late, but he so badly wanted to make amends for what she had been forced to do in order to save her family.
Finally, unsteadily, Lola said, ‘Alex, you don’t need to do this.’ Their eyes met. He smiled.
‘You’re my daughter. Why wouldn’t I?’
‘I said it was too much,’ Blythe chimed in proudly, ‘but he insisted. Now, you’re not to fritter it away!’
‘You can afford to move out of that poky little rented apartment of yours,’ said Alex, ‘and buy yourself a villa up in the hills. That wouldn’t be frittering.’
Unable to contain herself, Lola jumped up out of her chair and threw her arms around him.
Never mind a villa up in the hills; now she could afford to move back to London and buy herself somewhere to live here.
Because Majorca might be brilliant in many ways, but there really was no place like home.
‘Lola.’Appalled by the attention she was receiving, Blythe frantically attempted to tug down her daughter’s short skirt. ‘Stand up straight, for heaven’s sake. Everyone’s looking at your pants!’
There was always something deliciously disorientating about emerging from a dark, candlelit restaurant at three thirty in the afternoon and discovering that it was still daylight outside, albeit chilly grey city daylight.
But the greyness didn’t matter, because it only made the brightly illuminated shops all the more enticing. Like a human magnet Lola found herself being drawn irresistibly in the direction of the biggest, sparkliest shops.
‘We’ll leave you to it.’ Her mother and Alex couldn’t be persuaded to join her. ‘Don’t spend too much.’
‘Mum, I haven’t been home for four months! I’ve got some catching up to do:
‘Maybe a nice warm coat.’ Blythe could never resist a dig.
When they’d headed back to the car, Lola threaded her way through the narrow back streets of Piccadilly until she reached Regent Street. Oh yes, here they were, the department stores she’d missed so much, with their elegant beauty halls and perfume departments and escalators that led to other floors awash with yet more gorgeous things to lust over .. .
Better still, here was Kingsley’s.
Lola paused at the entrance, savouring the moment. Department stores were fabulous but they still came second to bookshops in her heart. Alcudia in Majorca had many things going for it but the sad collection of battered and faded English-language paperbacks on the rickety carousels in the beachfront souvenir shops wasn’t one of them. She craved a proper bookshop like an addict craves a fix. There really wasn’t much that could beat that gorgeous new-book smell, touching the covers and turning the pages of a book whose pages had, just possibly, never been turned before.
And if it was weird to feel like that, well, she just didn’t care. Some people were obsessed with shoes and loved them with apassion. Shoes were fine but you couldn’t stay up all night reading one, could you?
Anyway, it was freezing out here on the pavement; she might as well be naked for all the good her clothes were doing. With a delicious shiver of anticipation Lola plunged into the welcoming warmth of Kingsley’s.