Just like that, all the colour drains from Barney’s face and his shoulders slump. He reminds me of my blow-up mattress when I went on our school’s Duke of Edinburgh expedition. All puffed up one minute, completely deflated the next.
‘What’s the matter? God, don’t tell me it’s…’ Victoria swings round to look at Dad. He’s angled away from her, his attention laser-focused on Amber. Victoria pales too, comprehension dawning on her face as she turns back to her husband. ‘Please don’t tell me there’s a problem. Not with my inheritance.’
When Barney can’t meet her eye Victoria rears up out of her seat. ‘You utterbastard! What have youdone?’
Not giving him a chance to reply, she picks up her bag and storms out of the restaurant, leaving Barney gaping, slack-jawed, at the space she’s left behind.
‘What’s got into her?’ Simone asks, not bothering to hide her irritation. She glares at a couple on the far side of the restaurant, who’ve swivelled in their seats to watch the drama.
‘Probably something to do with the fact that Barney has omitted to tell his good wife he’s invested all her money in the Wapping development,’ Dad says in a bored voice. His arm is draped along the back of Amber’s chair, though I don’t think she’s noticed. Her champagne flute is empty again. I watch as she lifts a hand to brush her fringe away from her face, only to knock her glass off the table. Dad catches it before it falls and smashes, then tops it up with champagne and cassis.
‘So?’ Simone’s voice is sharp. ‘She should be pleased, shouldn’t she? You said that scheme was a licence to print money.’
Dad rubs his chin. ‘There are some…teething troubles. The planners are getting their knickers in a twist because it’s a grade one listed building. Nothing to worry about.’ He belches under his breath. ‘Probably.’
‘So you keep saying, but I need assurances, Felix!’ Barney’s voice is rising. ‘We can’t afford to lose this money.’
‘Then you should never have committed it! First rule of investing, Barney. Never gamble what you can’t afford to lose. Everyone knows that.’
‘Gamble?’ Barney lets out a bitter bark of laughter. ‘Fuck’s sake, Felix. You told me I’d double my money in eighteen months. You said it was a cast-iron, sure-fire bet.’
‘There’s no such thing. Face it, you were blinded by pound signs. It’s not my fault you didn’t do your due diligence. Play with the big boys, you play by our rules.’
They both fall silent as the restaurant owner arrives with the bill. Dad’s gaze turns steely as he addresses Barney.
‘Any danger of you putting your hand in your pocket tonight, you fucking freeloader?’
Barney’s head jerks back like he’s been slapped in the face, then he reaches into his jacket, pulls out his wallet, peels off a wad of cash and throws it onto the table.
‘There. You’ve taken everything else, you conniving bastard. You might as well take that too.’ He stands so suddenly his chair clatters to the floor. We all watch in stunned silence as, with a final poisonous look at Dad, he barrels out onto the street.
‘What?’ Dad says defensively as our gazes return to him. ‘It’s not my fault the posh tosser got greedy.’
I swallow hard. Barney’s voice was so full of rage, I can’t help wondering if this time Dad’s gone too far.
39
AMBER
The whole restaurant watches in silence as Barney storms out, his face tight with rage.
Felix gives a dismissive shrug, gathers up the notes Barney left on the table and summons the nearest waiter.
‘A bottle of your finest ouzo and some shot glasses, please.’ He turns to us with a Machiavellian smile. ‘These are on Barney.’
I reach for my glass of water, but it seems to have disappeared, so I take another sip of the Kir Royale instead. It’s so sweet it barely tastes of alcohol, so why is my head spinning, the candle flames blurring? It must be stronger than I realised.
Although I don’t drink now, I know what it’s like to be drunk. Mum pressed a tumbler of red wine into my hand the Christmas before she died. When I told her I didn’t want it, she lost her temper.
‘I’m not sitting here on Christmas Day getting drunk on my own. Just drink it, then you can have your present.’
By then, Mum’s mood swings had already moulded me into a people pleaser, so I did as I was told. Half an hour later I was on my knees over the toilet, heaving my guts up, the cocktail of wine and stomach acid burning my throat so badly it felt as if it was on fire. Mum was comatose on the sofa by then, so I had toclean up the mess myself. I was seven. I’ve barely touched a drop of alcohol since.
‘Please may I have a coffee?’ I ask, but the others are too busy slamming their shot glasses on the table and knocking them back to hear me. Why do people even do that? Some kind of primitive ritual?Look at me, look how cool I am. I hiccup under my breath. Felix pushes a shot glass towards me.
‘Aren’t you going to drink it?’
‘Yeah, Amber,’ Simone calls from the other side of the table. She’s been necking Cristal all night, yet her hair and make-up are still flawless. Only the slightest slur to her words gives her away. ‘You’re two behind us already, you lightweight.’
