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‘I need to speak to you.’
‘Of course!’
‘In the staffroom.’
Mary leant the broom against the wall and wanted to quickly retie her rather tatty blonde hair because, though she feigned nonchalance, Mary was rather certain she knew what this was about. At least she hoped she did!
Today was her twenty-first birthday, and usually there was a little party held in the salon for birthdays and engagements and such.
Up until now the day had felt wretched—her birthday had gone unannounced and unnoticed. Even her father hadn’t sent a card.
‘You’re not in trouble,’ Coral added as they walked through the hair salon—perhaps because all too often Mary was.
Whatever went wrong in the rather shabby London salon, somehow it ended up being her fault. But now, just when she had given up hoping, things were looking up.
‘Do you have plans for tonight?’ Coral asked as they made their way through a cramped corridor out to the back.
‘No, none,’ Mary responded as hope flared higher. Maybe, finally, she was going to be invited out with ‘the Saturday night crowd’, as some of the staff called themselves. The popular staff, of which Mary wasn’t one.
‘That’s good, because I’ve got a favour to ask,’ Coral said, pushing the staffroom door open.
‘A favour?’ Mary checked, bracing herself for shouts of ‘Happy birthday!’ and preparing to act surprised. Anticipating balloons, and cake, and the pop of a champagne cork, even though Mary herself didn’t drink.
Except the staffroom was empty and one glance told her that there was no cake—just an awful lot of mugs she would have to wash up tonight.
‘What sort of favour?’ Mary asked, choking back disappointment while still clinging to the hope that they were going to celebrate her birthday after work.
‘I’ve got a date tonight,’ Coral said, ‘and I can’t wriggle out of it. Believe me, I’ve tried...’
Mary frowned.
‘The thing is, Costa Leventis is flying in from Athens.’ She looked at Mary’s still bemused expression. ‘Please don’t tell me you haven’t heard of him.’
‘I haven’t.’
Coral sighed with irritation. ‘He’s important—extremely important—and there’s been a dinner arranged at short notice...’ She named a very exclusive Mayfair hotel and Mary’s eyes widened. ‘The trouble is I already have a cli—I mean, a date tonight. I’m asking if you’ll please step in.’
‘To go on a date with Costa Le—?’
‘Heavens, no!’ Coral laughed at the very notion. ‘Believe me, I’d drop anything for that. No, the dinner date is with Eric Ridgemont, who is meeting with Costa Leventis.’
Mary had no idea who he was either, but she blinked when Coral told her how much she’d be paid, for it was significantly more than she made in a week.
For going out to dinner.
Mary might be utterly innocent where men were concerned, but she wasn’t naïve. Her time in and out of foster care as her father had drifted in and out of prison had taught her quite a lot about life. Coral’s red sports car and designer wardrobe didn’t exactly equate with a salon that wasn’t doing particularly well.
‘Justdinner?’ Mary checked dubiously.
‘Whatever you want,’ Coral said. ‘Look, I know it’s short notice, but you’ve already said you don’t have plans tonight.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Mary shook her head. ‘No.’
‘This is really important,’ Coral warned.
Not to me, it isn’t, Mary was tempted to reply. But she really didn’t want to have an argument with her boss—or with anyone, come to that! Since her mother’s death, when Mary was seven, anxiety had lodged in her heart and throat and was now a permanent resident. She felt as if she were walking a perpetual tightrope, terrified that one false move would see her fall, and there would be no net beneath to catch her.
None.
