Free Sugar Mummy by Simon Brooke Page B

another drag.
    'Americans your speciality?' I ask.
    'Not really. It's just that there are a lot of them around at
the moment - always are in the summer. Anyway, it's so easy to give them that English
gentleman bullshit. I tell them I play cricket and they say things like ‘Mmm, I'd
really like to see you in all that white gear.’ They love it. All that shit. Then
I mention I went to Eton, that my family's lived in the same house for four hundred
years, stuff like that. I've usually turned into Hugh Grant after half an hour.'
    I laugh. 'They believe it?'
    'Yeah, 'cause they want to.'
    'Perhaps I should try it.'
    'Works a treat. I tell them that I'm reduced to selling my body
because my dissolute father gambled away my inheritance.' We both laugh at this
one.
    'You must read a lot of Mills & Boon.'
    'Research,' he says with mock seriousness. We laugh again.
    'Just invent yourself a history, the posher and sadder the better.
They all go for it: Americans, Arabs, South Africans, the Hong Kong lot. South Americans
really dig it for some reason.' We laugh at the absurdity of it. Then Mark says,
'Oh-oh, I think you're wanted.'
    Marion is standing by the open door of the car, looking across
at me meaningfully.
    'I've got to go.' I wish I could think of something else to say
to him.
    He smiles, sadly I notice, and says, 'See you around.' Marion
gets into the car - no chance of leading her off to Harvey Nics now. 'Who was that?'
    'Mark, you know, he was with your friend at the ball the other
night.'
    She ignores my answer. 'That shop is just so gross. That's the
trouble with London these days - no one has any taste any more. All the English
are running around trying to sell their asses to anyone with a platinum card'.
    She looks at herself in her compact and tells the driver to take
us home. No shopping for me today, obviously. Maybe next time. I'll just have to
invest a few more hours on these little shopping trips. Anyway, she might give me
some cash for taking her out this afternoon.
      We go to Aspinalls that
night and I have rather too much champagne. Marion introduces me to some people,
including a couple who both have exactly the same colour hair and we play roulette
a bit. It's actually very easy. I put some chips on the red panel a few times and
it comes up once or twice and then have a go on the black and the same thing happens
again.
    'He's good, your friend,' says someone Marion hasn't introduced
me to.
    'He's my lucky charm,' says Marion, pinching my cheek. We all
laugh. I catch her eye for a moment and she looks away quickly. Is she blushing
beneath her expertly applied make-up? A woman with a tray comes along, smiling as
if she is in on the joke and asks whether we'd like something to drink later at
the bar. I say 'champagne' and then look at Marion, wondering if I've stepped out
of line.
    'Good idea, bring a bottle of the Laurent Perrier. After all,
we're on a winning streak, aren't we? Put it over there, we'll be done in a minute.'
At just before two Marion cashes in our chips and, as we wait in the lobby for our
car, she pushes four £50 notes into my top pocket. More than I would have earned
if we'd been doing it through Jonathan with his twenty per cent commission - just
for taking a phone call from her and making another to me. I see what Marion meant:
we can safely cut him out of this little equation.
    'Thank you,' I say and kiss her lightly on the lips, partly so
that other people around us can see.
    When I wake up the next morning with Marion already in the shower
I find them lying on the bedside table next to my keys and feel very decadent. Is
this what it's all about? I wonder.

 
    The first thing I see when I open the door of the office later
that morning is Debbie. Or rather her eyes: narrowed with fury. She is standing
over a new girl's desk, giving her some pieces of paper. I know that all around
her, they are wondering how long this one will last, whether she will hit her target
and be lucky enough to