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‘Then I can’t get the money back?’
‘Not unless she is willing to return it,’ Mr Beard agreed.
From the way he was looking at her Janey suspected that Mr Beard shared her own belief that there was no way that Janey’s money was going to be returned. No one emptied a bank account in the way that Cindy had done and then simply agreed to pay it back.
Nevertheless, on the way back to the shop Janey tried to convince herself that it could be a mistake; that despite their quarrel over Charlie, Cindy couldn’t have actually taken the money, and that there would be a perfectly reasonable explanation for its absence.
But as Janey quickly discovered, the money wasn’t the only thing that had gone missing: Cindy herself was missing as well. The girl who eventually answered Janey’s anxious telephone call to her flat announced that Cindy had left and that she had told her she was going back to America.
‘They were both going,’ she informed Janey, ‘Cindy and that boyfriend of hers, the one that’s the model.’
Boyfriend?
‘You mean Charlie?’ Janey asked. Her stomach felt hollowed out with panic and the longing for this not to be happening.
‘Yes, that’s the one.’
So much for Cindy telling her that she and Charlie were just friends, Janey thought dizzily, reeling from the blow she had just been dealt. Had they planned to rob her all along, or had Cindy merely acted spontaneously out of spite?
What difference did it make? She had let them make a fool of her and she didn’t want to see either of them ever again.
Thanking the other girl for her help, Janey replaced the telephone receiver and leaned back against the wall. This couldn’t be happening. But it was, it was. She had been such a idiot, believing them both, never suspecting, whilst they’d been stealing from her, stealing her trust, her belief in them, her love and her money.
Oh God…God…What was she going to do? She needed help, and she needed it quickly and desperately, Janey knew. There was only one person she could think of whom she could trust to give her that help, only one person she wanted to turn to.
She knew that John had intended to return to his club so she rang him there, her fingers tightening round the telephone receiver as she waited for him to be informed that she wished to speak with him.
‘Janey?’
Just the sound of his voice was im
mediately comforting.
‘John, something terrible has happened. Could you come round to the shop now?’
‘Of course.’
He would think her a complete fool all over again, and of course she was.
* * *
To her relief John arrived at the shop within half an hour, listening in silence whilst she told him what had happened.
‘I have to pay the girls, John, and I just didn’t dare ask the bank to lend me any money.’
‘Are you saying that you want me to lend it to you?’
Janey’s heart sank. He wasn’t being anything like as sympathetic as she had believed he would be. Had she made yet another mistake, and another misjudgement? Was he not after all the true white knight she had secretly been thinking him in her heart?
‘It just seemed natural to…to turn to you for help.’ She was feeling really uncomfortable now, and wishing that she had not telephoned him and spoiled her silly romantic fantasy that he was something–someone–very special. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve put you in an embarrassing position. I didn’t mean to. I know my parents will help me and, of course, I’ve got my trust fund.’
If anything John looked even more grave–and disapproving.
‘I’m sorry.’ He was shaking his head. ‘But I have to warn you that I can’t help you.’ Janey felt as though the bottom had dropped out of her world–not because he was refusing her but because she had been so wrong about him. She had believed that he was a true knight in shining armour, gallant and dependable and wonderful, but when had her judgement ever been any good? She only had to think of Charlie and Cindy to know that it wasn’t.
‘Not unless, that is…’
Janey, who had been looking down at the floor and biting her lip, looked up at him. His face had gone a bit pink.
