Read Online The Next Best Thing by Sarah Long - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sarah Long
Ads: Link
common now,’ he confided. They identified it at the Money, Meaning and Choices institute in San Francisco. Roland wanted me to see
someone after we were talking about Who Wants to he a Millionaire at a dinner and I happened to say that thirty-two thou was nothing to us. Which it isn’t. It wasn’t as if I was
in a room of social workers, either, most people there would have spent at least that on their fortieth birthday parties. But then when I ran up a bill of twenty-five thou redecorating the bedroom,
he insisted I take myself in hand. So to speak,’ he added with a lewd wink.
Was he serious? Since when did striking it lucky mean you had to go into therapy? Jane had had enough now, she wanted to go home.
‘Guilt is a terrible thing,’ Jeremy was saying, ‘it can ruin your life if you’re not careful.’
‘So give your money away to charity if that’s how you feel,’ said Ossian with a shrug, ‘rid yourself of the cause.’ Personally he’d never lost any sleep over
his millions, but then again he’d been born to it. Unlike Jeremy, who had gone overnight from hotel receptionist to kept man and crazed spendthrift.
‘It’s not really mine to give,’ said Jeremy, nodding towards his prostrate companion whose snoring had now reached a deafening level, ‘and to be honest, I don’t
want to give it away. I like being rich, I just want to stop feeling bad about it.’
‘Shrinks are the new priests,’ said Ossian, ‘it’s the secular version of paying a cleric to say mass for you.’
Will was animated on his return from the lavatory, and it was well into the small hours before they finally did leave. Roland was roused from the dead by Jeremy and assisted
into a taxi, while Twirly and the model went home on foot. Jane had her eye on the clock as she drove away, calculating how much she needed to pay the babysitter, and whether she had sufficient
cash in her purse. She knew better than to ask Will. He couldn’t really be bothered with tedious stuff like this after a good night out.
Will was wide awake on the journey home. ‘I couldn’t believe you, Jane, sitting there with your instant coffee, like you were at girl-guide camp.’
‘Ging gang goolie,’ she said, slowing down as they approached a roundabout, ‘I can’t help being conventional, blame it on my upbringing. And at least coffee is cheaper
than cocaine, you should be grateful I’m so cheap to run.’
‘I hope that wasn’t a sly dig at me. I’m allowed to enjoy myself now and then, aren’t I?’
‘Of course. And I’m allowed to indulge my quaint old-fashioned habits. At least my needs are simple and you don’t have to fork out for a therapist for me. Or an enema bag. That
Jeremy was quite something, wasn’t he?’
‘Colourful, at least.’
‘And incredibly narcissistic’
Will sighed. ‘You’re so . . .’ he was searching for the right word ‘. . . sensible. That’s the word for you, Jane. You are such a sensible woman.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment, shall I?’
‘If you like.’
‘I do like. Unless you’re trying to say that I’m a boring person without an original idea in my head.’
‘Hmm.’ He was laughing now, but Jane wasn’t going to let it go.
‘So, if I am so uninteresting, why did you . . . why do you live with me?’
‘Interesting question. And one to which there are many answers.’
‘One will do.’
‘Just one, now let me see.’ He drummed his fingers on the window and gazed out thoughtfully at the deserted London streets.
‘Your wild-mushroom risotto, perhaps. Or the way your hair springs up at the front. Your smile. Maybe it’s because you don’t cramp my style, you know how to give me space . .
.’
‘Not very convincing so far . . .’
‘Or because you’ve offered mc the chance to be a father again without ramming it down my throat . . .’
‘Useful breeding stock . . .’
He frowned and tried again. ‘I suppose I live with you because I am happier
someone after we were talking about Who Wants to he a Millionaire at a dinner and I happened to say that thirty-two thou was nothing to us. Which it isn’t. It wasn’t as if I was
in a room of social workers, either, most people there would have spent at least that on their fortieth birthday parties. But then when I ran up a bill of twenty-five thou redecorating the bedroom,
he insisted I take myself in hand. So to speak,’ he added with a lewd wink.
Was he serious? Since when did striking it lucky mean you had to go into therapy? Jane had had enough now, she wanted to go home.
‘Guilt is a terrible thing,’ Jeremy was saying, ‘it can ruin your life if you’re not careful.’
‘So give your money away to charity if that’s how you feel,’ said Ossian with a shrug, ‘rid yourself of the cause.’ Personally he’d never lost any sleep over
his millions, but then again he’d been born to it. Unlike Jeremy, who had gone overnight from hotel receptionist to kept man and crazed spendthrift.
‘It’s not really mine to give,’ said Jeremy, nodding towards his prostrate companion whose snoring had now reached a deafening level, ‘and to be honest, I don’t
want to give it away. I like being rich, I just want to stop feeling bad about it.’
‘Shrinks are the new priests,’ said Ossian, ‘it’s the secular version of paying a cleric to say mass for you.’
Will was animated on his return from the lavatory, and it was well into the small hours before they finally did leave. Roland was roused from the dead by Jeremy and assisted
into a taxi, while Twirly and the model went home on foot. Jane had her eye on the clock as she drove away, calculating how much she needed to pay the babysitter, and whether she had sufficient
cash in her purse. She knew better than to ask Will. He couldn’t really be bothered with tedious stuff like this after a good night out.
Will was wide awake on the journey home. ‘I couldn’t believe you, Jane, sitting there with your instant coffee, like you were at girl-guide camp.’
‘Ging gang goolie,’ she said, slowing down as they approached a roundabout, ‘I can’t help being conventional, blame it on my upbringing. And at least coffee is cheaper
than cocaine, you should be grateful I’m so cheap to run.’
‘I hope that wasn’t a sly dig at me. I’m allowed to enjoy myself now and then, aren’t I?’
‘Of course. And I’m allowed to indulge my quaint old-fashioned habits. At least my needs are simple and you don’t have to fork out for a therapist for me. Or an enema bag. That
Jeremy was quite something, wasn’t he?’
‘Colourful, at least.’
‘And incredibly narcissistic’
Will sighed. ‘You’re so . . .’ he was searching for the right word ‘. . . sensible. That’s the word for you, Jane. You are such a sensible woman.’
‘I’ll take that as a compliment, shall I?’
‘If you like.’
‘I do like. Unless you’re trying to say that I’m a boring person without an original idea in my head.’
‘Hmm.’ He was laughing now, but Jane wasn’t going to let it go.
‘So, if I am so uninteresting, why did you . . . why do you live with me?’
‘Interesting question. And one to which there are many answers.’
‘One will do.’
‘Just one, now let me see.’ He drummed his fingers on the window and gazed out thoughtfully at the deserted London streets.
‘Your wild-mushroom risotto, perhaps. Or the way your hair springs up at the front. Your smile. Maybe it’s because you don’t cramp my style, you know how to give me space . .
.’
‘Not very convincing so far . . .’
‘Or because you’ve offered mc the chance to be a father again without ramming it down my throat . . .’
‘Useful breeding stock . . .’
He frowned and tried again. ‘I suppose I live with you because I am happier
Similar Books
