‘I was wondering,’ he said, recovering himself, ‘who makes these paddles?’
She took it from him and examined it with obvious pleasure.
‘Ah, these are beautiful, aren’t they? Handcrafted by an expert. He has a little workshop south of the river. He’s exclusive to us, you know. You won’t find his implements anywhere else.’
‘Unless I went to the workshop,’ suggested Jason. ‘I’d like to contact him, if you’ve got his details. Got a proposition for him.’
The assistant was clearly surprised.
‘He trades under the name The South Bank Tannery, but he’s called John Lindo. I can call him for you, if you want. What sort of thing did you want to discuss with him?’
‘A commission,’ said Jason.
‘Oh, well, I daresay he might be interested. Let me call him for you.’
She looked up the number on her mobile phone and began to dial.
Jenna watched all this, too curious to remember to be aghast, and also seriously impressed with Jason’s confident and rather suave manner. He was full of surprises.
‘Hello, Mr Lindo? It’s Caro here, from Cinq à Sept – the Mayfair branch. Yes, lovely, thank you. How are you? Oh good. No, no problems at all, but I have a customer in the shop who would like to talk to you, if you wouldn’t mind. Don’t worry, it’s not a complaint. Yes. Fine. I’ll put him on then.’
> She handed the phone to Jason.
‘Hi,’ he said, turning to wink at Jenna, who shrank back even further. She felt critically exposed by what was going on, as if the shop assistant were now a voyeuristic third party in their relationship. She knew their tastes in underwear, and, much worse than that, she knew that Jason liked to give her bottom a good spanking. She squirmed a little at the thought and pretended to take an interest in a rack of babydoll nighties.
Jason’s voice floated over to her, settling among the clouds of lace and ribbons.
‘I was looking at one of your paddles in the shop and I’m really impressed by the design and the workmanship. Yeah. So I was wondering if you’d make one especially for me, if I came up with a design of my own. Yeah? That’d be great. How about tomorrow? Jen?’
She came reluctantly back into the group, hearing her name.
‘What are we doing tomorrow? Got any meetings or owt?’
‘One, in the morning. Should be finished by lunchtime. And I was going to pop into the office, just to be friendly and make sure everything’s ticking over.’
‘Right. Yeah, how about tomorrow afternoon then? Three sounds good. Where are you, exactly? Will do. Cheers. Oh, yeah, sorry, it’s Watson. Jason. See you then, then.’
He handed the phone back to Caro, who uttered a few polite words before ending the call.
‘Well, that seemed to go well,’ she said. ‘Do you want this?’ She proffered the paddle.
‘Yeah, I think I do,’ said Jason, taking it and slapping it into the palm of his hand. ‘And there’s some stuff we’d like to try on.’
‘Of course. Just let me find our samples. Do you know your size?’
This was addressed to Jenna, who mumbled the answers. She was far from her efficient, professional self in here, and Jason seemed to enjoy the contrast, smiling at her and ruffling her hair.
‘You’ve gone all shy,’ he said, as the assistant disappeared behind a curtain that presumably concealed a stock cupboard.
‘I’m not used to broadcasting the details of my private life in shops,’ she replied, smoothing her hair back down with an irritable hand. ‘I’m dying of embarrassment here.’
‘It’s only Caro. She won’t tell anyone,’ said Jason. ‘That’s what these posh shops are all about, isn’t it? Good service. Keeping the customer’s secrets.’
‘I suppose so. I bloody well hope so. The last thing I want is us on the front page again with some sordid S&M sex scandal.’
‘Do you think it’s sordid? What we get up to?’
‘No, I don’t, but I know what the tabloids would make of it.’