‘What?’
‘It’s Alekos; it has to be.’
‘No!’ Panicking, Kelly sprang to her feet. ‘It can’t be him. Why would he be here? He can’t know I’m pregnant.’
‘Well, he was present at the time of conception,’ Vivien said helpfully. ‘And he obviously has a planet-sized brain, so there is a possibility that he’s considered that as a potential outcome.’
Her breath coming in rapid pants, Kelly pressed her hand to her chest. ‘No. No.’
‘On the other hand, men are a bit thick sometimes, so it’s always possible that he’s just come for the ring.’ Vivien patted her shoulder soothingly. ‘In which case, he’s going to be leaving with something that’s going to cost him a whole load more by the time you’ve added up nappies, clothes, an iPod and all the stuff kids seem to need now. Then there’s university fees, and—’
‘Shut up, Viv! You can’t let him in. Don’t let him in. I haven’t decided what to do.’ Kelly was panicking badly. ‘I need time.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! Time isn’t going to change anything but your age.’ Vivien sprang towards the door. ‘But I promise not to say, “hello, Daddy”. Or “did you bring the nappies?”’
Kelly sank back onto the sofa with her head in her hands. Was she going to tell him? Of course she was going to tell him. She couldn’t deny her child the right to know his father, could she? That wasn’t her decision to make.
Maybe they could be one of those couples who seemed to get on perfectly well but just didn’t live together. But that would mean shuffling her child backwards and forwards like a lost parcel, and she didn’t want to do that.
Kelly groaned and pressed her hand to her forehead. How had this complete and utter nightmare happened to her? If only she hadn’t sold the ring, he wouldn’t have come looking for her, they wouldn’t have had sex and she wouldn’t be pregnant.
Just thinking of the word made her shake.
She needed time to think. She wasn’t ready to do this now.
The door to Vivien’s flat banged. ‘You can relax, it isn’t him. It’s one of his slaves.’ Vivien came in dragging a small suitcase and thrust an envelope at her. ‘Here we are. You can tip me if you like; round it up to the nearest million.’
‘What’s that? And where did you get that suitcase?’ Kelly slit the letter open and immediately recognised Alekos’s bold, dark scrawl. Reading the letter, she gulped.
‘Now what?’ Vivien snatched the letter from her: My private jet is waiting for you at the airport. Jannis will drive you. I will see you in Corfu. ‘Kel, any minute now I’m going to poke you in the eye with something sharp. Four-million-dollar diamond rings, Ferraris, limousines, private jets—give me one reason why I shouldn’t die of envy?’
Kelly’s teeth were chattering. ‘The guy left me on my wedding day.’
‘True. But honestly, Kelly, private jet,’ Vivien said weakly. ‘I mean, I bet you get loads of leg room. And the person in front won’t recline his seat into your face. No plastic food. How quickly could I get breast implants? I could go instead of you.’
‘You can go instead of me if you like because I’m not going.’ Kelly stared at the suitcase. ‘What’s that?’
‘Jannis said it was for you.’
‘Jannis? You’re on first-name terms? You got friendly rather quickly.’ Kelly dropped onto her knees and opened the suitcase.
‘Oh my goodness—clothes wrapped in tissue paper.’ Vivien’s voice was faint as she peered over Kelly’s shoulder. ‘He’s bought you a wardrobe?’
‘Probably because he doesn’t want me to show him up arriving dressed in my completely embarrassing black skirt,’ Kelly said stiffly, ripping apart tissue paper and pulling out a dress. ‘Oh! It’s—’
‘Gorgeous. Is that silk?’
Kelly fingered the beautiful fabric wistfully and then she stuffed it back in the suitcase. ‘No idea. Send it back to Jannis.’
‘What? Kelly, he’s inviting you to Corfu. You have to go.’
‘He wants me to bring his ring, that’s why! I’m his personal delivery-service and this is my payment.’
Vivien was still poking through the contents. ‘It’s a pretty good payment; these shoes are Christian Louboutin—do you know how much they cost?’
Kelly eyed the height of the heel in disbelief. ‘No, but I know the surgery to fix my broken ankle would be a lot. Not to mention all the things I’ll probably smash to pieces as I fall trying to walk in those. Vivien, I’m not going.’
Vivien folded her arms, a stubborn look on her face. ‘If this is about that woman he was seeing, he’s not with her any more. I’ve already told you that. It was all over the papers that they’d split up. Now I know why. He shagged you and realised that you’re the only one.’