I once caught my husbands talk with his mate and finally saw why he had really taken me as his wife.
Enough of the softsell, Ellie? Forgive my bluntness, but Im near my wits end! Its a proper con! Do you know that word? Keith paced an airy drawingroom, constantly fixing his immaculate sidepart. Victor is giving us a chance to get in on a plot before the foundations are even laid. In a year those flats will double in value! Well put in ten million pounds and pull out twenty!
Ellie sank into a deep armchair, clutching a cooling cup of tea. She wanted to close her eyes and simply listen to the quiet, yet for two weeks now Keith denied her that luxury.
Keith, ten million pounds is every spare pound I have. Its the safety net for the company. If anything goes wrong I wont be able to pay wages or buy fabric. You know the season is coming school uniforms, then the Christmas parties
Your endless stitching again! Keith rolled his eyes dramatically. Ellie, youre a clever woman, a businesswoman. Yet you think like a seamstress stuck in the workshop. Your mill isnt going anywhere. Opportunities like this come once in a lifetime. Victor is my best friend; he wouldnt feed me rubbish. Hes putting his own money in too.
Ellie sighed. She loved Keith his youthful spark, his bright eyes, his gift for smooth talk and sweet gestures. When they met three years earlier she was fortyfive, he thirtyseven. She owned a chain of tailoring shops and a modest garment factory, used to carrying the whole load herself. Her first husband had run off with a younger woman, leaving her with a teenage son and a mountain of debt. She had clawed her way out, built her business, raised her son. Then Keith appeared charming, lighthearted, never demanding that she become a iron lady and she melted.
He was a sales manager for a construction firm. He didnt reach for the stars, but Ellie never minded. What mattered was that he came home with a hot dinner, gave flowers for no reason, and whisked her away on seaside holidays.
Lately his projects grew more insistent. First a pricey car to match the husband of a business owner, then a push into cryptocurrency. Now the building scheme.
Keith, let me think it over, please. I need to check the documents and speak to a solicitor.
Which solicitor? Your ancient Arthur Benson? He belongs in the last century! Hell tell you to stash cash under the mattress. Ellie, we must decide quickly. Tomorrows the last day we can lock in this price. Victor is already holding the reservation for us.
Keith knelt before her, hands warm on hers.
Ellie, trust me. Im trying for us. I want us to live better, so you wont have to work all day. Well build a house, travel. All for our future.
She gazed into his deep brown eyes, yearning to believe that his care was genuine, not just a hunt for easy money.
Alright, she whispered. Ill go to the bank tomorrow morning, but I need time to arrange the transfer.
Youre brilliant! Keith leapt up, lifted her into his arms and spun her round the room despite her feeble protests. Youll see, well be millionaires! Ill call Victor this instant!
The next morning Ellie did go to the bank, not to withdraw cash but to verify the accounts. The inner voice that had once warned her against a dodgy supplier whispered again, Dont rush.
The day turned chaotic. First the main sewing machine broke down, then the tax office arrived for a routine audit. Ellie ran like a hamster on a wheel, signing papers, calming staff. By evening her head throbbed as if hammered.
She decided to head home early, skipping the office laptop, craving a hot bath and a bed.
As she pulled into her driveway she saw an unfamiliar black Jeep parked by the entrance. Probably a neighbour, she thought, and turned into her drive.
The flat was silent. She slipped the key into the lock, the muffled clink of glasses and low chatter drifting from the lounge.
Strange, Keith never mentioned guests, she thought, about to shout Im home! but something held her back. The tone was not that of friendly visitors it was too bold, too loud.
She slipped off her shoes, tiptoed down the hallway. The lounge door was ajar.
Well, brother! Did you finally pull her in? a coarse, hoarse laugh erupted. Ellie recognised the voice of Victor, the business partner.
Exactly! Keiths smug tone sounded unlike any hed ever used with her. I told you, the key is the right approach. A bit of whining about our future, a few compliments, a kneel here and there and the clients signed. Shell transfer the money tomorrow.
Ellie pressed her back against the wall, her heart pounding in her throat.
Ten million? Victor asked.
Ten. Shell drain it clean. The old fool. She really believes were building a posh development.
Maybe in our dreams, Victor chuckled. She wont see through it? The paperwork?
Paperwork? Shes clueless. Ill slip her a loan agreement for a oneday shell company, and shell sign. She trusts me like the Almighty. Shes smitten Keithy, Keithy
A clink of glasses punctuated the banter.
Heres to your acting skills! Victor toasted. Dont you feel a pang of conscience? Shes a decent woman, wellkept.
Wellkept Keith sneered. Look at her neck, her hands. No amount of cream can hide the flaws. Every night I lie in bed, close my eyes and picture Sophie. By the way, Sophies already packing her suitcases. As soon as the cash lands well be off to Bali. Ill tell Ellie Im off to a site visit, and off I go. Shell be left to whine while I disappear.
Hardhearted, Victor said, admiration in his voice. What if she files?
She wont. Shes proud, would rather hide than admit a young scoundrel duped her. The loan will be legit, just the company will go bust. Business risk, love.
Ellie slid down the wall, her legs giving way, a chill running through her as ice replaced blood. The words of Keith, who had just yesterday kissed her hand, hammered into her mind like hot nails. Three years she had lived in a dream, thinking it was happiness, only to discover it was a longterm investment with a final liquidation.
A surge of fury rose to smash the table, to claw his smug face, to scream till the windows shattered. Yet she stood still. Years dealing with 1990s gangsters and 2000s bureaucrats had forged a steel spine. A hysteric outburst would be a gift to an enemy; it would betray weakness, and she was no weak woman.
Slowly, controlling each breath, she rose, gathered her shoes, and slipped out as silently as she had entered.
On the landing she summoned the lift, descended, and sat in her car. Her hands trembled on the wheel, but her mind was frighteningly clear.
Bali Sophie the shell company, she thought, looking out at the windows of her flat where two vultures now divided her skin.
She started the engine and drove not to her mothers for a sob, nor to a friend, but to the office. In the safe lay her passport, the companys articles and seal.
Two hours later she returned, bags of takeaway food and a fine bottle of whisky in hand. She burst through the door, keys clattering, bags thudding.
Keithy! Im home! she cried, her voice bright with triumph.
Keiths head popped up from the lounge, a forced smile playing on his lips, a flash of panic in his eyes.
Ellie! Youre early. Weve got a meeting with Victor. Thought wed celebrate your wise decision.
She entered, radiant.
Victor, good to see you! Ive just stocked up on treats, lets celebrate!
Victor, a bulky man with restless eyes, rose.
Mrs. Whitmore, my respects! Glad youre with us. Keith told me you agreed? Excellent. Big money favours the bold.
Yes, Ive thought it through, Ellie began placing the food on the table. Enough of clutching at gold. Its time to grow. Keith opened my eyes.
She moved to him, kissed his cheek. He tensed then relaxed.
Youre my clever one, he purred, hugging her waist. I knew youd back me.
Of course, love. Tomorrow we head to the bank. Ive ordered cash. Safer than transfers and fees. Ill withdraw it all and hand it to Victor under a receipt.
Victors eyes gleamed.
Cash is perfect! Proper British style. I respect that.
The evening blurred. Ellie smiled, poured whisky for the men, listened to their toasts to a bright future. She watched Keith and wondered how she had missed the falsehood in his grin, the cold calculation in his gaze. Love truly blinds; betrayal sharpens the eye.
When Victor staggered out, humming a tune, Keith embraced Ellie.
Ready for bed? Big day tomorrow.
Yes, darling. You take a shower, Ill tidy up.
Lying beside the man who had plotted her ruin, Ellie never closed her eyes. She heard his even breathing and, in her mind, said goodbyenot just to him, but to the naive trust that had lingered since she first heard his laugh behind the door. She was bidding farewell to her own gullibility.
In the morning she woke him with a kiss.
Get up, millionaire! The moneys waiting.
Keith sprang up, brighter than ever, donned his best suit and a splash of cologne.
Ready! Ellie, you have the passport?
Of course. All set.
They drove to the bank. Keith jabbered the whole way, sketching plans, describing the house theyd build. Ellie nodded, watching the scenery.
At the bank they were ushered into a VIP suite. A manager, a friend of Ellies, laid out bundles of cash ten million pounds in five thick packets.
Keith stared at the money, mesmerised, his hands inching toward the table.
Shall we sign for the release? the manager asked.
Yes, Ellie replied. Proceed.
She signed the withdrawal slip. The cash slid into her bag.
All right, off to Victors office! Keith urged as they stepped outside. Hes waiting with the notary.
Hold, Keith, Ellie called, stopping by her car. I have a surprise for you.
A surprise? What now? he fidgeted. Ellie, theres no time!
Its quick. Get in.
She opened the boot, hauled out a large sports suitcase and set it on the pavement before him.
Whats that? Keith asked, bewildered. Are we going to Bali? Right now?
Ellie laughed, short and sharp.
No. Youre going where? To Sophie? Or straight to mums?
Keiths smile faded. He turned pale.
Ellie, what are you talking about? Whos Sophie? What do you mean?
The Sophie you were planning to flee to with my money. The one you picture when you lie in bed like going to work. I heard everything, Keith. Yesterday, when I came home early.
Keith opened his mouth, but no sound emerged. He looked like a fish flopping on the shore.
I heard every word. Old fool, the oneday company, how youll dump me.
Ellie, this was a joke! Victor and I were just drunk! Youve got it all wrong! He lunged for her hand, but she recoiled.
Dont touch me. Never touch me again. In this suitcase are your things the underwear, socks, the cheap suits you bought before me. Im taking the car its registered to the firm. Your cards, linked to my account, I blocked half an hour ago.
You cant! Were married! Half the money is mine!
These money? Ellie tapped the bag of cash. No, love. Thats the companys cash. I withdrew it for business needs. You have no claim. As for our assets you told Victor, Shell stay silent. Im not silent. Im clever. Ive already sent our conversation to the same oldtimer solicitor. Yes, theres a recorder in the lounge I installed it to watch the housekeeper, but it caught a rat like you.
Keith staggered back, realizing the game was lost. The mask of the loving husband fell, revealing a frightened, pitiful swindler.
Ellie, please! It was a setup! Victor pushed me! I love you, truly! Dont throw me out! I have nowhere to go!
Go to Sophie. Maybe shell take you. Without money she wont need you.
Ellie slid into the drivers seat, locked the doors and rolled down the window.
Goodbye, Keith. Divorce papers will be mailed. Dont think of coming near me or my business. As you said, everythings in hand. I may not send you to prison, but Ill make your life so miserable that Bali will haunt you only in nightmares.
She floored the accelerator, leaving Keith on the car park, suitcase in one hand, emptiness in the other.
Ellie drove through the city, tears streaming down her cheeks. The pain was raw, brutal. Hopes shattered, faith in people broken. Yet through the anguish rose another feeling relief.
She had shed a parasite, saved her enterprise, refused to be crushed.
The suitcase of ten million pounds sat beside her.
Nothing, she thought, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Ill invest in new equipment. Buy those Japanese machines Ive dreamed of. Then Ill take a holiday. On my own. Bali? No, perhaps Italy. There men appreciate women of any age, not just their wallets.
That evening she sat at the kitchen table with her son, James, now a grown, steady man, listening intently.
Mom, Ill give him a proper beating, he said calmly, clenching his fist.
Dont, James. Honor enough. He punished himself. He lost everything chasing a phantom. We have everything we need.
She poured herself tea, took a bite of a cake from her own boutiquebakery shed opened a year ago, and for the first time in days tasted food again.
Her phone buzzed a message from Keith: Ellie, lets talk. Ill explain everything.
Ellie pressed Block. She then opened the contacts, found Victors number and blacklisted him too.
Life went on. She promised herself to stay beautiful, for now she bore no lies. Eleanor Whitmore knew it was better to be alone and strong than to live with a man who kept a penny in his pocket. Love would come again, but shed check passports and credit histories first.
