Swap With Me

Chapter Twenty

CHAPTER TWENTY 

Emily got out of the taxi outside her block of flats and paid the driver. It was eight-thirty in the morning. She looked up at her windows and saw the kitchen light was on, which she thought was odd. Emily and Scott had shared a lift from Terminal Five at Heathrow, and the taxi had taken Scott to his flat first, and then onto Shaftesbury Avenue. It would have been quicker to go by tube from the airport because of the morning rush hour traffic, but after stepping out of British Airways Business Class, it would have felt wrong to slum it in a noisy, crowded tube train.

Emily used her key to open the door to her flat and immediately smelt the sausages. A distinctive, slightly burnt, Bar-B-Q smell, mixed with the aroma of freshly ground coffee.

'You're back,' screamed Jessica, as she bounded out of the kitchen with an old apron tied round her waist.

Emily remembered Jess asking what her flight number was. 'Oh, you shouldn't have done Jess.'

'I checked flight arrivals, you were on time, so I came on over.' They hugged, a tight embrace, and Emily could tell she had put on perfume.

'I've been up all night, eating gourmet food, drinking champagne and wine, and watching movies. And I feel great.'

'Maybe at the moment you feel great, but I think later, you're going to peg out.' Jessica lead the way into the kitchen. 'How was your four days away?'

'Gosh, it seems longer than four days. So much to tell you.' 

Jessica pushed Emily into the chair in front of the round table, 'Let's eat.'

'This is so kind of you, Jess. You shouldn't have done.'

'Hey, let me tell you. I know what it's like. I used to come back from these photo shoots abroad, arrive back at the most ludicrous times to an empty flat. Big downer.'

'Oh God, now I feel guilty. I should have welcomed you back on those occasions . . .'

'You were working, remember,' said Jessica. 'Now that I'm a woman of leisure, I can do these things for you.' Jessica poured coffee for them both. 'Got an interview tomorrow as a receptionist.' 

'Will it pay enough to look after your debt and mortgage repayments?'

'No. But I can't go on accepting money from you, Em.'

'And sell your flat?'

'Or sell my body.'

'No.' Emily felt a dread hit her stomach.

'High class, top of the range, escort, with a v-e-r-y select group of clients. I can see it working. Other women do it, college girls to pay tuition fees, housewives to make ends meet. And an out-of-work model with a heavy mortgage.'

'Have you finished, Jess? It ain't going to happen.' Emily mind moved onto the need for money and wondered how her software programme was doing. She forked a slice of sausage and started to eat it. She spoke with her mouth full, 'need to see if the Department of Health has paid my company any money.'

'Finish your breakfast first.'

'Bossy.' 

Emily looked at the dummy business details installed into the Department of Health computer system. As expected, there were no sums of money allocated to Emily's company. Her software was designed to round down decimal points from transactions of money, and place the small change into the secret pot, but not to leave the money there. Any change left in the company could flag up a query. Emily's software simply bounced out the money as it came in, and made the transfer to Switzerland. She breathed a sigh of relief. No trail could be detected in the Department of Health.