I’m tense the whole evening, but Jo seems to be enjoying herself. While she’s playing roulette, I seek out Nic.
He obviously picks up on my stress; ‘It’s going well, man. Why are you freaking out?’
‘I don’t want Jo to guess anything.’
We’re in the loo, and I’m wound up and desperate for some coke. It’s the one thing that lifts me and gives me confidence. Fortunately, Nic pulls some from his pocket.
‘Where do you get this?’ I ask, then snort through a ten-pound note.
Nic laughs. ‘Let me introduce you to the club,’ he sings.
I swipe at my nose and follow Nic from the loo. He leads me to the back of the casino, where waitresses bustle behind the bar, prepping cocktails. Nic opens a door, and then we’re standing in a long corridor. He knocks on the second door and says, ‘It’s Nic.’
A huge tattooed guy opens the door. I swear the man’s head is touching the ceiling. I stare in awe and see his eyes narrow.
‘Who’s this?’
‘He’s alright. Rupert brought him. He’s cool.’
‘What do you need and how much?’
I look to Nic, realising I don’t have a clue.
Nic says simply, ‘He wants coke. He has the money.’
The door slams in our faces. I turn to leave.
‘He’ll be back,’ says Nic, confidently.
The door opens again.
‘A grand,’ the guy says.
I hand over part of my winnings, and the guy gives me a bag. ‘Nice doing business with you,’ he says before slamming the door shut again.
So this is it, the lifestyle I’ve envied from the outside: fine dining, whispered deals and money I didn’t earn. I push the coke deep into my pocket, and we wander back to the casino. I see the look on Jo’s face when she sees me, and a pang of guilt shoots through me.
‘Where have you been?’ she asks. ‘I was about to phone you.’
‘I’ve been trying to talk this lady into having a coffee, but she won’t have any of it,’ says Rupert.
‘It’s late, Danny,’ Jo says. ‘We should get home.’
I push my hand into my pocket and feel the cocaine. My adrenaline spikes. With this, I can cope.
We thank Rupert for his generosity, say goodnight and make our way to the exit.
‘I’ll be in touch,’ Rupert says as we go, and it feels more like a threat than a statement.
Later, I learn that Rupert wants me to put even larger amounts through the books. His request is couched in terms that make one thing very clear: refusal isn’t an option.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Daniel
One day I finally check our joint bank account, and my stomach sinks. I was sure we had more than this. The new house is bleeding us dry, we’re way over our budget, and I still owe Neville Logan the final balance. Meanwhile, Jo’s picking out designer furniture and accessories because I told her money wasn’t a problem. Luckily, it’s a joint account and she’s always left the finances to me. But how the hell do I explain that I’ve been cooking the books at work and gambling with my career and our future? I scroll through the statement again and feel nauseous. In one month alone, I blew more than two hundred grand on coke and roulette.
I can’t even remember when it all started to go wrong. One minute, all this money was coming in, and the next, it had gone. I could lose hundreds, even thousands, in a single night.
