Free Sleeping Cruelty by Lynda La Plante Page A

sufficient to live on, and he was too scared to mention his nest-egg in case it was taken away. Not until he graduated,with a double first in mathematics and electronic studies, and moved to London, did he begin to utilize it.
    In 1968, seven thousand pounds was a lot of money. Today it would have been worth almost ten times as much. William began to study the Financial Times share index as meticulously as his father had studied the dogs and, still only twenty-three, he began to accumulate a small fortune. He invested it in a small factory to make a computer circuit board he’d worked on at university. In those days the most elementary computer filled a room, but William’s circuit board was set to change that. By the time he was twenty-eight he was a millionaire – not in the same league as Bill Gates, but rich none the less. By thirty he was one of the most eligible bachelors in Britain.
    But William wasn’t very interested in women. He preferred a brief fling, usually with one of his employees. It was easier, because all he really thought about was work. It had been Angela Nicholls, one of his secretaries, who had first encouraged him to attend social events, go to the theatre or the opera. On her advice William bought an apartment in Knightsbridge and joined a golf club, a tennis club and a luncheon club, and soon had a wide circle of friends. Angela gave him a confidence in himself that he had previously lacked. She was an attractive girl from a good family, the sex was easy and comfortable, and William was fond of her. When Angela fell ill with glandular fever and was forced to take time off work, he was caring and considerate, sent flowers and paid for the best medical attention. He had imagined when she recovered that they would pick up where they had left off. But hadn’t reckoned on Harriet Forbes, the willowy blonde sent by the agency to fill in.
    William remembered Harriet clearly. Only twenty years old, she had an insatiable sex drive and represented all the girls he had lusted after when he was a teenager but was too shy to date. Harriet was the youth he had lost in making himself rich. He was quickly and foolishly besotted with her; Angela was forgotten. He was surprised to discover how well connected andwealthy Harriet’s family was. One evening, as they strolled home arm in arm, they stumbled upon Angela. Harriet made some stinging remark about how plain she was, and Angela ran up the street in tears. William did not follow her. He was too intoxicated by Harriet. Too intoxicated to see his relationship with Harriet for what it really was.
    One day Harriet arrived at William’s apartment with an astonishing collection of ballgowns from some of the most exclusive boutiques in London. ‘For the Berkeley Square Ball tonight,’ she gasped, tugging at a zip.
    ‘But you know I’ve got dinner with the Japanese.’
    She looked up at him with amazement. ‘Don’t be ridiculous! I couldn’t take you with me – it’s a society do.’
    So he was good enough to fuck and pay for endless champagne, meals and clothes, but even with all his millions he was not good enough for her precious aristocrats! ‘I don’t want to go to some tin-pot ball with a load of overdressed slags cavorting round with a bunch of chinless twats anyway,’ he snapped petulantly.
    Harriet laughed, picked up her purchases and made for the door. ‘You obviously do or you wouldn’t be getting so uptight,’ she said, over her shoulder. Then she flounced out, banging the door behind her.
    He remembered how he had smarted with anger, and then how he had told himself that it was time he straightened out and got back to work. For the first time in months, he called Angela, but was told she had gone to Yorkshire to stay with her family. A month later he saw her at the opera, a few seats in front of him. He was alone, and during the interval asked if she would have a glass of champagne with him. She introduced him to her party of friends, one