‘Huh?’
‘Fuck-you money. Haven’t you heard that expression?’
‘No.’
‘It’s for when she decides enough is enough, and she bails.’
‘Will she bail?’
‘Hard to say. She still loves him, but if she’s got any sense, she’ll get out of it. Her life’s a nightmare, the poor cow. He barely even talks to her these days, and she’s starting to suspect he’s being unfaithful. Well, he cheated on his first wife, why wouldn’t he do it to his second?’ Precious shook her head. ‘Me, I’m never getting married. Not ever. I like to steer my own ship. I don’t need some gormless, arrogant git to start grabbing the controls.’
‘So you’re going to be a psychologist,’ smiled Layla.
‘Got it in one. As soon as I qualify, I’m out of here.’
‘Yeah, as if I haven’t heard that a million times before,’ said Ellie, putting her head around the door.
‘It’s true,’ said Precious, unfazed.
‘We’ll see,’ Ellie smiled. She turned to Layla. ‘You got a visitor, Layla. Your brother’s here.’
Layla stepped out into the hall. It seemed to be packed full of tall, hard-eyed men. One of them turned around and gave her a dazzling smile. Layla felt the blood rush to her face at the shock of seeing him here. She was blushing, for God’s sake. And she looked a mess. Old jeans and a tatty T-shirt and her hair pulled back and… damn it, some things never changed. He had only to smile at her and she was ready to roll over and die.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she said.
‘And hello to you too,’ said Alberto.
‘He’s not my brother,’ Layla blurted out to Ellie, who was standing there with Chris, the pair of them all expectant and deferential, as if royalty had pitched up at their door. Which she supposed it had, sort of.
‘Oh?’ Ellie looked uncomfortable. She knew who Alberto was. She had known his father Constantine through her connection to Annie. And she couldn’t understand why Layla was acting so bad-tempered.
Why the hell did I say that? Layla wondered in anguish. She was hotly aware of all eyes on her, of Precious pushing into the doorway behind her and ogling Alberto with great interest.
‘Well, that’s correct. I’m not your brother,’ said Alberto, stepping smoothly forward. ‘Not technically.’ His eyes were resting on Layla’s face. ‘But I’ve always thought of you as my sweet, prickly little English sister.’
Precious cleared her throat. Layla saw Alberto’s eyes slip from her to Precious, and felt her guts clench up.
‘Aren’t you going to introduce us, Layla?’ said Precious, smiling, already extending her beautifully manicured hand towards Alberto.