At the imposingly high ceilings, the amazing glass walls that lead to a wide balcony laid out with a table, chairs and potted topiary. At the mirrored wall that reflected the elegant silver patterned pale lilac wallpaper, the rich furnishings, and the deep-pile, white carpet. It is so massive, so hugely extravagant and luxurious it is as if she has walked into a page of a glossy magazine. She turns when she hears the door opening.
Peter puts the rest of her shopping on the floor and walks towards her. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, very.’
He takes her around the spacious four-bedroom apartment and shows her how things work. Which buttons on the remote cause the curtains to open and close and which one makes a gorgeous painting rise onto the wall to expose a TV screen. There are buttons for the shutters, buttons for working the wine cooler, buttons for the lights, the media room, and for the coffee machine.#p#分页标题#e#
She nods but it hardly registers. The opulence has numbed her.
‘Any problems, just call the caretaker. The number is over there,’ he says finally, indicating a card that has been placed on a side table near the front door.
‘Thank you.’
‘Be back for you at eight thirty. Mr. Barrington hates people to be late.’
‘Don’t worry, Peter, you won’t have to hang around waiting for me. I’ll be ready.’
She closes the door, finds her mobile, hits home, and waits for her mother’s soft voice to answer.
‘Hi, Mum,’ she says brightly.
‘Where are you?’
‘I’m at Blake’s apartment.’
‘Oh! When are you coming home?’
Lana swallows. This will be the first time she will not return to her own bed. She knows it will be difficult for her mother. ‘Not tonight, Mum. I won’t be home tonight, but I’ll be there first thing in the morning.’
First her mother goes silent. Then she expels a soft sigh.
‘All right, Lana. I will see you tomorrow. Be safe, daughter of mine.’
‘See you tomorrow, mum.’
She walks down the enameled corridor and goes into the main bedroom. It is very large with a huge bed. The décor is deep blue and silver. She kicks off her shoes and walks barefoot on the luxurious carpet towards the bathroom. The bathroom is a green marble and gold fittings affair. There is a Jacuzzi bath and a large shower cubicle. By the washbasin lush toiletry still in their packages have been laid out for her use. She unwraps a pale green oval of soap and washes her hands. Afterwards, she opens cabinets and finds them all empty. She goes back into the bedroom and walks through to the walnut dressing rooms. The built-in wardrobes are all as bare as the bathroom cabinets. So he does not live here. This is a place purely for sex.
She walks out of the bedroom and heads for the kitchen. It has been done up in sunny yellow with glossy black granite worktops and surfaces. There is an island in the middle and stools around it. When she was young she dreamed of just such a kitchen. She perches on one of the tall stools, swivels around a few times, and hops off. She goes to a cupboard and opens it. It is full of stuff— expensive stuff that is never found in her mother’s cupboards. Tins of biscuits from Fortnum and Masons, Jellies from Harrods, French chocolates with fancy names.
She takes a few down and admires the exquisite packaging.
She shuts the cupboard and goes to the fridge.
More exotic stuff: truffles, handmade blue cheeses, gooseberries, cuts of dried meats, wild smoked salmon, a dressed lobster, caviar… The vegetable drawer is packed with organic produce. Even the eggs have blue shells.
There are two bottles of champagne lying on their sides.
She takes one out and looks at the label. Dom Perignon.
‘Hmnnn…’ she says into the silence.
Carefully, she peels back the foil and the wire that holds down the cork. Holding the bottle between her thighs she twists the cork as she has seen the waiter do, but it takes many tries, and when it finally pops out, she has shaken the bottle so much, it sprays everywhere.
She cleans up with some paper napkins, then finds a glass in one of the cabinets and pours herself a drink.
Carrying the glass she goes back into the living room. She slides back the doors and steps outside. She stands there for a moment looking at the wonderful view of the park and surrounding area, but can feel no joy in her heart. Her thoughts are with her mother. She closes her eyes and prays that all will be well. Then she raises her glass to the sky. ‘Oh, Mum,’ she whispers, ‘be well again.’ Then she brings the glass to her lips.
There is not enough time to try the Jacuzzi bathtub, so Lana has a shower. The showerhead is wonderfully powerful unlike the weak one she is used to. The shower invigorates her and she goes into her shopping bags with some measure of excitement. The bruises from the night before mean that she is only able to wear the Versace silk shirt. She pulls on the tight leather trousers that end at her ankles and slips on the strappy stilettos. Then she does her eyes the way Aisha taught her to and paints her lips soft pink. She is so nervous her hands tremble slightly. She goes into the living room and pours herself another glass of champagne.