The Dinner Guest by B Walter (best short books to read txt) 📕

myself, but I pushed the snag of annoyance to the back of my mind. What Meryl was offering was nothing short of golden.

‘Also,’ she continued, ‘you can leave that little flat of yours. Come and stay with me at Eaton Square. I have a house far too big for a single old lady. Charlie has been telling me for years to allow a real-estate company to carve it up into apartments and make a killing, but I just can’t bear the thought of the upheaval and, to be honest, money is overrated.’

Money is overrated. In any other situation, a phrase like this, spoken by a multimillionaire, would have made me bloody livid, but my mind was still spinning from this new bombshell: I was to leave Churchill Gardens. Move in with Meryl. To one of the most famous squares in London. Hadn’t the Bellamys in Upstairs Downstairs lived at Eaton something-or-other? Faded memories of me watching old videos of the show on the sofa on rainy days with my mum swam into my mind. I could feel my heart pounding as I took in a slow breath. ‘Are you sure?’

Meryl smiled kindly at me. ‘Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t. I’ll have my lawyer draft up all the employment details, of course, to make sure I’m doing everything above board. I’ll get him to sort all that out with you directly – National Insurance and all that; I avoid all paperwork where possible. In terms of salary, how does £40,000 a year sound? Of course, I won’t be charging you rent or anything. We’ll throw your accommodation in because, really my dear, it’s you who is doing me a favour here. So, do you accept?’

Now, at last, I allowed my excitement to show through. Clasping her hands across the table, and letting a perfectly timed tear fall from my face, I said, ‘Yes. Completely. Thank you so, so much.’

Meryl looked delighted. ‘Excellent. Right, let me pay for the food and then we’ll set off to the house. I can show you where you’ll be living. I’ll tell Sophia and Edward you won’t be returning because you’ve had a better offer elsewhere.’

I nodded and sat quietly while Meryl paid for our meal. A better offer. She didn’t know how much of an understatement that was.

Chapter Twenty-One Charlie

Seven months to go

Things continued to get weirder at the start of the New Year. It set the tone for things to come, in some ways. When I say weird, I’m rather lumping together everything involving Rachel and Matthew and her proximity to our lives, although of course later on I would discover there were many strands to all of this. We were at Jerome’s apartment when the next notable ‘odd thing’ involving Rachel occurred.

We’d been reading the Margaret Atwood novel for that first meeting in January and, to my surprise, Titus expressed an interest in joining. Although he’d always been very bookish himself, like me (until recently) he’d never expressed a wish to join in before, always seeming more content with baking cakes than participating in the discussion with us adults. But on this occasion, he arrived downstairs just as we were getting our coats on, asking if he could come with us.

‘I’ve read the book,’ he said. ‘I’d really like to discuss it. And I haven’t seen Meryl in ages.’

I saw Matthew looked slightly taken aback. ‘Well … I’m not sure. It isn’t at Meryl’s; it’s over at Jerome’s place.’

Titus rolled his eyes. ‘But Meryl will be there, won’t she? And Rachel.’

I looked up sharply at the mention of Rachel – too sharply, because I saw Matthew notice. I don’t know if that was why he gave an automatic ‘yes’ to Titus, or if he just didn’t want to get into a needless argument and end up being late. Whatever the reason, he said Titus was allowed to accompany us, and we all hopped in the X6 and set off towards Jerome’s apartment.

The first disconcerting incident occurred just as we were driving up to Grosvenor Square. A car cut in front of us, causing me to break suddenly as we were turning the corner, drawing a muttered swear word from Matthew. I was about to tell him to calm down when the doors of the sleek black Mercedes in front of us opened and out stepped Meryl, followed by, rather astonishingly, Rachel. Her light-blonde hair was unmistakable, although her clothes seemed to have drastically improved since we’d last seen her. She’d never been badly dressed, but was always the safe-side of plain and unremarkable. Now, she looked … well, sophisticated. Her hair was tied back and she was dressed in a jet-black trench coat and clasping a pristine cream handbag. It was starting to drizzle and as I watched she opened up a deep-maroon umbrella and used it to cover herself and Meryl.

Matthew shifted next to me, and I thought he was about to tell me to move on, but then the figures in front of us caught his attention. ‘Is that Rachel?’ he asked. ‘She looks … well, different. And what’s she doing with Meryl?’

I shrugged, ‘How should I know?’

We watched them walk along the pavement, up the steps towards the apartment building, and then disappear from view. A hoot from behind us startled us out of our respective trances.

‘Er, you going to move the car?’ Titus said from the back seat.

I snapped into action, ‘Yes, sorry.’ I began to steer the car around the corner, my mind racing. What on earth was going on? Why had Rachel got out of that car with Meryl? And what was she wearing?

Inside Jerome’s apartment, we found Rachel browsing the ultra-modern bookshelves (complete with under-shelf lighting strips), a large collection of Angela Carter stories held in her hands. Meryl was sitting near her, sipping a martini.

‘Hello dear,’ the latter said to me when she saw me approaching. ‘How are you on this cold, blustery