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“Both. All of it. But especially the Daisy thing.”
“See, I knew you would hate me calling her.”
“And can you blame me? You just sent your assistant out in the middle of the night to buy clothes and makeup and a vacuum cleaner I can’t afford from shops that will probably all be closed anyway,” she said with as much incredulity as she should muster. However, said incredulity had no effect on him.
He was already toppling it with a pointed, weary look.
Then he started counting off on his fingers how she was wrong.
“Okay, first of all, to her this is like, four in the afternoon. She’s used to having to deal with stuff like shit-faced men who need picking up in the early hours of the morning. Second of all, I am absurdly wealthy, this is like buying a pack of peanuts to me, so I don’t wanna hear any more about it. And thirdly, there’s no such thing as opening hours for the places she’s going to go to. She’ll be at somewhere likeVogue, riffling through their winter collection,” he said.
And all she could think when he did wasfucking hell.
Because now it was believable, but astonishing.
“She never will,” she gasped.
“I’m telling you.”
“That’s absolutely mad.”
“I know. Different world when you’ve got some coin, love.”
He rubbed his fingers together on the end of that statement.
Almost sneering, like he didn’t much like this state of affairs.
But that was all right. Because she didn’t like it, either.
“That doesn’t mean I want it flashing around on my behalf.”
“What else am I gonna flash it around on behalf of? I’ve no fucking clue what to do with it all. I saved and invested every penny while I was on the pitch because I thought that was smart and once my back was fucked I’d be like Gazza, penniless and desperate—and you know how I feel about that.” He shook his head, clearly thinking about it. And clearly wanting to not. Before he plowed on. “Thing was, though, all it did was give me this mountain of money that I can’t even give away fast enough to make a dent. I dump it on some charity, turn around and there’s somehow twice as much as there was before.”
Then he was quiet. And she was the one thinking about things.
Like how he’d forced those food banks not to mention him.
But they had anyway. They had told her.
Someone should know, they’d confessed.
“So you do give most of it away, then,” she said.
“Not most. Enough that I can sleep at night.”
“I think the amount you drop should have you out like a light.”
“Still buy fancy things and have my fancy car and fancy house, don’t I.”
Now it was himself he was sneering at, quite obviously. Even though he was being daft. “You had that one-bedroom flat in Manchester until people started climbing the walls and hiding under your bed. Fame made you do this, and you know it. You know it made you need a fortress and a well-protected car someone else drives and a few nice suits. So don’t try coming the raw prawn with me, old son,” she said.
And he gave into it. She saw it happen with a snort overraw prawn.
Then a long breath out at the end her sentence.
“I’d argue, butfuck, I miss living like a normal person.”
“Yeah, I know you do, mate. I know you do. I would, too.”
