.
Grimly she remembered her mother’s parting shot: ‘Don’t go getting all pally with the girls, OK?’
Layla thought that wasn’t OK at all. She thought it was pure snobbery on her mother’s part, imagining the daughter of the great Annie Carter was too good to mix with lap dancers.
‘I won’t be staying long,’ said Layla, praying that would be the case. She was dreading having to phone in sick again tomorrow. No one was ever sick at Bowdler and Etchingham. Anyone foolish enough to take sick leave was liable to return to find their desk had been moved to a less desirable spot, their chances of promotion reduced.
‘You can stay as long as you like,’ said Ellie. ‘That goes without saying.’
I’m going to lose my job, thought Layla. She loved her job, it defined her. She loved neat rows of figures, making columns add up. She craved order, and accountancy gave her that.
Yeah, because it’s missing in other areas of your life, right?
‘Telly’s there if you need it,’ said Ellie, desperate to break the uneasy silence. ‘And there’s the radio.’
‘Fine,’ said Layla.
She made no move to start unpacking, settle in. Just stood there, looking lost.
‘Don’t go out if you can avoid it, but if you do, you take Chris or Simon or Kyle with you,’ said Ellie.
Layla knew Chris on sight: Simon was a blond mound of muscle, and Kyle had waved her in the door today, dark-haired and barrel-chested, with a broad smile of welcome. She rather liked Kyle.
‘And you don’t ever go out without telling me exactly where you are.’
‘Don’t tell me,’ said Layla. ‘Mum’s orders?’
Ellie smiled but didn’t answer that. ‘Just ask if you need anything,’ she said, going to the door. ‘Oh – and Layla?’
‘Hm?’
‘Probably best if you stick to your room in the evenings,’ said Ellie, and with that she closed the door.
Terrific, thought Layla.
Annie was alone that evening when the police came knocking. She was just sitting there, thinking over what Layla had said before Tony had taken her off to Ellie’s place.
I’ve phoned Dad.
Shit. If there was one thing she didn’t need, didn’t ever need, it was him poking his nose in.
She’d got used to him being on the other side of the world, and she liked it that way. Max had his fingers in quite a few pies still, she knew that. She couldn’t avoid knowing. Layla always came home from her Barbados vacations fizzing with joy, keen to impart news of her dad.
Annie didn’t want to hear any of it. She didn’t want to see, either, how lit up her daughter was, how suntanned, happy, exuberant – a different girl almost – simply because she’d been in her father’s company, in her father’s home.