Tasmina Perry - Gold Diggers

‘I have to say, Erin, you’ve really pulled it out of the bag this time.’ Richard adjusted his bow tie in a self-satisfied manner and smiled over to his girlfriend. It was true that Erin was attracting a number of admiring glances from Richard’s colleagues at the White, Geary and Robinson annual dinner – not that there was a huge amount of competition, she thought. The Park Lane Hilton was awash with bottle-green taffeta, burgundy velvet and ill-fitting cummerbunds, so Erin’s silk peacock blue DKNY evening dress made her look like a supermodel.

‘Glad you like it,’ said Erin, stroking the fabric. ‘It cost six hundred quid. I don’t think I’ve spent more than that on anything except rent.’

‘Bloody hell!’ whistled Richard. ‘Have you won the lottery and not told me?’

Erin had received her first pay-packet earlier that week and, after nearly fainting at the size of it, had decided to go to Knightsbridge on a shopping spree. At first she couldn’t believe how much designer clothes cost. It was ridiculous! Still, she had to admit it was worth every penny: the blue was stunning against her alabaster skin and it clung to every new curve. She had lost eight pounds since she had left Cornwall; working for Adam meant there wasn’t time to eat. Richard disappeared to check the seating plan and returned with two flutes of champagne.

‘Fuck me!’ he whispered gleefully, ‘we’re only sitting on the managing partner’s table!’

‘I take it that’s a good thing,’ said Erin, laughing at his boyish enthusiasm.

‘Erin, Charles Sullivan is only one of the highest-earning lawyers in the City,’ he hissed, ‘bills millions for the firm. Millions!’

He was beginning to sound like David Attenborough describing some lesser-known species of the Amazon rainforest.

‘Well, I hope he’s a good laugh if we’re sitting with him for dinner.’

‘A good laugh?’ Richard spluttered. ‘Erin. We’re talking invaluable networking opportunities here. One good word from him and I can pick and choose which department I go to when I qualify. I tell you, it’s a job well done here, Erin. Thank you, Adam Gold. Speaking of which, where the bloody hell is he?’

As if hearing Richard’s words, Adam walked into the room. His presence was like a shock of sex appeal in the otherwise sober company of the lawyers and their partners. The cut of his dinner jacket seemed a little more sharp, his shirt more crisp, his tan glowing among the papery English complexions. All heads and eyes swivelled to look at him. Erin felt a bolt of pride as he came up to her and Richard.

‘Sorry I’m late. I was caught in the office. Had a few calls to make to New York. Shall we go in?’

‘Thanks for coming,’ whispered Erin as they strolled into the dining hall, ‘I really appreciate it.’

‘Well I hope he’s going to buy you something very nice for this,’ said Adam, nodding his head in the direction of Richard.

Adam was seated between Erin and Charles Sullivan. Charles was a powerfully built man with a shock of grey hair and a deep voice. In the legal world, he was something of an ageing matinée idol. Erin enjoyed watching the interplay between two successful businessmen. Charles Sullivan was clearly angling for work, gently promoting the firm at every opportunity, but he avoided anything direct, choosing safer subjects of conversation like shooting and golf. Richard, however, was less subtle, leaning over Erin and barging his way into the conversation wherever possible.

‘I assume you’ve moved to London because you intend to float the business on the stock exchange,’ asked Richard with an air of authority.

‘And why would you assume that?’ asked Adam, with just the hint of amusement in his voice.

‘Well, with the introduction of REITs, isn’t every property company to go public?’

‘What’s a REIT?’ asked Erin.

Richard rolled his eyes. ‘A Real Estate Investment Trust. Property companies convert to REIT status to become tax efficient.’

‘Well, thank you for the lesson, Richard,’ said Charles, his smile loaded with warning. ‘But I hardly suppose Adam is going to let us in on his plans for Midas, is he?’

‘It’s also a little more complicated than that,’ smiled Adam politely.

Erin could see that he was trying to stop the direction of the conversation without wanting to be rude. Richard, however, was like a small dog with a big bone, yapping and jumping, wanting everyone to see how clever he was. Erin looked at Richard with a sinking feeling of what? Disappointment? Embarrassment? When she had first got together with Richard, she had been in her final year of her degree and he was beginning the legal practice course in preparation for his traineeship. All her friends at Uni had considered him to be quite a catch, but at first she hadn’t really seen it. It wasn’t that he was particularly good-looking – there were certainly sexier men at college – but slowly she saw that Richard possessed a self-confidence, a worldliness and a purpose lacking in most of the men she met at the students’ union. Richard talked about the future and his place in it when most students mumbled about indie bands and scoring ‘a quarter’ and she quickly found his considered opinions on politics and economics incredibly attractive. He was a real man, not some lank-haired teenager. She was also seduced by his family, who owned a big red-brick rectory in Worcestershire. She loved the sense of having a big, close-knit family; there were his mother and father, Brian and Margaret, and three brothers, who all worked in the city. But at the same time, on her rare visits home with Richard, she had felt inadequate, as if Richard was out of her league. She’d asked him once what he had seen in her.

‘Fantastic knockers,’ he’d said with apparent sincerity. ‘Whatever happened to that tight black T-shirt you used to wear?’

She’d laughed it off at the time. But here and now, sitting next to Adam Gold, the scales were slowly falling from her eyes.

‘I’m just going to the bathroom,’ she whispered as Richard swirled his teaspoon around in his coffee with the air of a prime minister listening to his cabinet.

‘Yeah, sure, honey,’ he said absently, waving his hand. ‘Take your time.’

The bathroom was quiet, with only a few cubicles occupied, so Erin had the mirror to herself as she dabbed some blusher on her cheeks. Then she noticed another woman standing a few feet away, just watching her. It unnerved Erin a little. The woman had a long, horsey face and the glassy look of someone who had drunk too much. Finally Erin nodded to her. ‘Hello,’ she said, wondering perhaps if she had met her before.

The blonde stepped towards Erin, a little unsteady on her feet. ‘Richard Pendleton’s girlfriend, yes?’ she said with an accent Erin could only describe as phoney-Sloaney. ‘It’s good to finally meet you.’

‘Really?’ Erin was surprised that Richard spoke about her with his workmates and she suddenly felt a little guilty about her uncharitable thoughts at the dinner table.

‘Well, never particularly wanted to meet you before, no,’ said the woman with a twisted smile. ‘But obviously now I’m curious.’

‘Curious about what?’ asked Erin, feeling a sudden fluttery sense of foreboding.

‘Why, curious about you,’ she laughed malevolently. ‘Richard’s little girlfriend tucked away in Cornwall.’

Erin didn’t want to be rude to any of Richard’s colleagues, but this woman was clearly hostile for some reason. ‘Is there a problem?’

The woman laughed. Erin noticed that her lips and teeth were stained purple from the wine. ‘No, no problem, not any more. Not now you have the ear of Adam Gold. This firm would kill to get a slice of the Midas legals and there’s no way they would have got Gold here tonight without you. So Richard is officially Charles Sullivan’s blue-eyed boy. No wonder he’s gone running back to you.’