Dirty Aristocrat

‘I could make us breakfast?’ I suggested brightly.

‘No. I have a breakfast meeting.’ He paused. ‘Maybe coffee?’

‘Aye, aye, sir,’ I said with a mocking salute.

He nodded and went back into his bedroom.

After he shut his door I went into the kitchen and switched on the machine. While it was heating up I hit the shower. I hurried through my toilette, but by the time I came out of my room

he was gone. There was an empty coffee cup in the sink.

The sight deflated me further.

Oh, well. I had the whole day to myself, maybe I should do some shopping. All the stuff Theresa got for me was too big and clumsy. Yes, I should go out and get a few things that I

needed. With some amusement I realized that I, the dreaded gold digger, didn’t have any money.

I called up the bank and asked them to courier a replacement debit card to Ivan’s address. They were extremely accommodating even when I told them that I had no ID on me. They said they

would send a teller who could recognize me with my new card. I would have it in less than two hours. I put the phone down and reflected that the world really did bend over backwards to

accommodate people with money. I remembered when I had none at all, how the bank manager looked at me as if I was a bit of shit at the end of his shoe.

Well, no more of that. Robert had seen to it that I would never again have to endure such a situation. I put the phone down with a feeling of accomplishment.

Right, breakfast. I went back into the kitchen and looked around.

I was actually ravenous and ended up eating a bowl of cornflakes, two fried eggs, bacon, and two slices of toast. I washed it all down with two glasses of pomegranate juice. Afterwards,

I placed all the dishes in the dishwasher and cleaned up after myself, then got ready to go out.

I was pulling on my shoes when the phone by the front door rang. The concierge was ringing from downstairs to say that there was a flower delivery.

‘Shall I send her up?’

‘OK,’ I said.

I opened the door and a woman wearing a smart uniform said brightly, ‘Hello. Where do you want these?’

‘Wow!’ I said, looking at the riot of colors. It was a really big and gorgeous bunch of flowers. So beautiful it was more like a work of art. I opened the door wider and bade her to put

them on the dining table.

‘Thanks,’ she said after I signed her little pad and gave it back to her.

After she left I went to look at the flowers in surprise. Whoever they were from they must really be crazy for Ivan. I went closer to the arrangement and to my surprise I saw that the

card was actually addressed to me.

Bemused, I tugged it out and opened the envelope.

Happy Valentine’s Day

Underneath was a large scrawling signature that clearly read Ivan. With everything that had happened, I had even forgotten it was Valentine’s day.

Obviously, it did not mean anything.

I was staying at his flat and he must have felt sorry for me. I walked around the bunch admiringly. Gosh, it must have been really expensive. Hmm … I wondered why he had decided to spend

so much money on me. Did he expect something back in return?

The phone went again. It was the bank employee with my replacement card.

‘I’ll come down and get it,’ I said.

She was very pleasant. ‘Anytime you need our help, please don’t hesitate to call,’ she said.

I got the card from her, then took a taxi to Fenwicks of Bond Street where I picked up a whole bunch of lovely lingerie, matching bras and panties, garter belts, camisoles, slips, a

totally sexy and unspeakably naughty blue brocade corset, and a peek-a-boo black baby doll. I knew I would probably have no use for them for the foreseeable future, but purchasing them

was therapeutic. Buying gorgeous underwear always made me feel better, and already I felt a whole lot perkier.

Carrying my bags quite jauntily, I stopped for lunch at a pretty little crepe café. As I was enjoying my goat’s cheese, scrambled eggs and herb crepe, I overheard a snatch of

conversation between two women who were passing by my table.

One was telling the other, ‘I’ve booked a cab, but I might stay on at the party. It all depends what everyone else wants to do after that, I guess.’

Both women moved out of earshot and I did not hear more, but that little snippet of their conversation made me feel unaccountably sad. That was exactly the kind of life I had always

wanted for myself. Having workmates and good friends and going to parties that I have to book cabs home for.