Grace

Chapter 3

"That bad, huh?" Ben asked.

My eyes snapped open. He was stretched out in his chair and his hair a little messed up, perhaps with boredom. I noticed the tall man stood at the wall not too far behind. He was in a suit. Body guard. Weird.

"I felt like I was with a bunch of Spaniards."

"Hope you're C of E."

"Huh? Oh, Eddie Izzard. Ha. Yeah. I choose cake."

"Speaking of. I managed to not eat your scone." He waved to where it still sat on the table.

I smiled and picked it up. It was just what I needed after that. I was allowed to eat in silence for a few much needed long moments before I was asked how it went. I left out the soul searching, the realisation that I was a spoiled brat, the realisation that actually, I wanted to come here, and went for, "Yeah. It was alright you know. Rocky start, strong end."

"Sounds like a slam dunk to me. Tea?"

"Please. And don't give me false hope I might crash and burn yet."

He laughed and nearly sloshed tea on the table. "Somehow I don't think you're going to crash and burn, Bennett. You've got... something."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "I have many things, Ben. Phone, computer, tablet, instruments –"

"No. I mean something less tangible. Something... Eton." He seemed to roll the word off his tongue as if it was a luxurious whisky.

Something Eton. I wondered what that meant.

*     *     *     *

Vivian, Dad's secretary and PA (I didn't even know he had one), told me that he liked Glenfidich whisky and Mum liked skirts by Chanel. I'd got the train home as the car was still in the service place and as soon as I had my purse I dashed out again, hyper aware that my parents paid for my oyster card as well as everything else. I knew that they could more than afford it now, but I was still conscious of it. It was the first time I'd ever been conscious of money in my life.

It had always been there, but never seen.

Now I was thinking how close together the shops I wanted to go to were and if I could reasonably walk the distances. Then I got to the whisky shop and remembered that I wasn't old enough to buy it. Damn.

"Want to tell me anything?" Luke asked.

I screamed and jumped around. He laughed at me but made sure I didn't fall over by holding my arms until I stopped wobbling.

"Eton getting to you already?" he asked.

Oh if only he knew. "I want to get a bottle of whisky for my dad, but I can't buy it."

"He do something nice for you?"

"He paid out thousands of pounds over the years for my music lessons. Please, Luke, go in and get some for me."

"Oh, ok. Fifty is my limit."

"I got you covered."

He nodded once and then went in. Five minutes later he was out, bag in hand, triumph in his eyes. "Fifty one."

I gave him the cash.

"I can't let you go anywhere with it though. The police will stop you."

"Then I guess you're coming shopping with me. Skirt shopping."

"Be quick."

I was. I was in and out like a flash. Not that it mattered because he stayed at the food court. I'd got Mum a skirt and jacket combo in pale pink, a colour that looked gorgeous on her. I'd thrown in a white matte silk blouse to complete the look. I was pretty sure she had a thousand of them, but I wanted to complete her look. With the exception of shoes. Dad was complaining the other day on the way out the door about tripping over her shoes.