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Authors: Geraldine Fonteroy
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and gave it a good brush.
Transformed into a young, hip mum with flowery mini-skirt, tight white T-shirt and cute flip flops, Jessica flounced out of the toilet and made a point of heading to accessories, where she purchased an unaffordable tiny hairclip for Rachel, just to deflect attention.
Then, she walked out of the store, past Luxury Leather, where the young sales assistant was being illogically berated by the security guard for being so stupid, and back to the station. Walking in through the entrance, she immediately exited and headed for the car park once more.
It was done.
Taking gulping breaths of air, Jessica wondered how she’d actually managed it – her hands were shaking so dramatically that she could hardly place the car key in the lock.
Never mind all that. She was two hundred quid richer, wasn’t she? That was the important thing.
Two hundred pounds less to pay off that Visa bill.
And a quite a few steps closer to spending an eternity in hell.
CHAPTER TEN
CHELSEA JORDAN SEEMED SURPRISED to see Jessica, despite the meeting having been pre-arranged. ‘Well, well, well. Who would have thought it?’
How come Frieda hadn’t called with the tale of Jessica’s success? Jessica had bent her new friend’s ear – well, associate was probably a better description – for over an hour the night before, until Ronald banged on the door and asked if she was planning to hog the only working toilet all night.
Jessica smiled sweetly at her nemesis-turned-business-partner. ‘I thought you knew I was coming.’
Chelsea held out her hand impatiently. ‘Can I have the stock please?’
‘Oh, sorry.’ The two leather jackets, now in plastic to protect them from the muck in the back of her car, were presented. Chelsea cast an experienced glance over the goods, and finally proclaimed that ‘the new girl done good’.
‘That’s two hundred pounds, right?’
Amused at Jessica’s desperation, Chelsea, blonde highlighted hair bouncing with mock enthusiasm, drew a cross over her heart. ‘Right away, I promise. Give me your account details.’
Already prepared, Jessica passed over the Visa account details. ‘You can pay into that account, right?’
‘Sure, can’t see why not. What bank is it?’
‘Lloyds.’
‘Consider it done. Now, want to choose another job? We’ve had a load come in just this morning. Word of our business is spreading.’
‘Not surprising. Those coats are worth over five hundred pounds each. It’s a bargain for someone.’
‘Sure is. If I dared to tell hubby about it, he’d have to admit the whole scheme is bloody genius.’
Or that you were bloody insane.
Chelsea beckoned her new accomplice into a slick study with the kind of shiny, brown, modern furniture Jessica hated. There was a nasty set of steel and glass shelves too, she noticed.
The BIB typed in a password and brought up a file in Excel. ‘Here we go, pick something else.’
This list was more eclectic that the last, with a number of hardware items (electric saw and drill) and foodstuffs (caviar and champagne from Harrods). No way was Jessica going to run the gauntlet of security at Harrods.
‘I’ll try the Apple iBook.’ It was six hundred pounds worth – about half the price of a new one.
With a raised eyebrow, Chelsea questioned the choice. ‘You sure? That’s high profile stuff. It takes a sophisticated approach.’
Good point. My approach can hardly be described as ‘sophisticated’. ‘Can someone help me?’
Sighing deeply, as if Jessica had just asked to borrow her only car indefinitely, Chelsea tut-tutted for a few moments, then revealed: ‘Rita is best at this sort of thing. She’ll except a cut for helping you, though.’
Of course she would. Of all the BIBs, Rita was the biggest bitch.
‘How much?’
The heavily made-up blonde shrugged. ‘Ten per cent is the going rate.’
‘Oh.’ That wasn’t so bad.
Consulting the computer again, Chelsea said, ‘You should take the two
Transformed into a young, hip mum with flowery mini-skirt, tight white T-shirt and cute flip flops, Jessica flounced out of the toilet and made a point of heading to accessories, where she purchased an unaffordable tiny hairclip for Rachel, just to deflect attention.
Then, she walked out of the store, past Luxury Leather, where the young sales assistant was being illogically berated by the security guard for being so stupid, and back to the station. Walking in through the entrance, she immediately exited and headed for the car park once more.
It was done.
Taking gulping breaths of air, Jessica wondered how she’d actually managed it – her hands were shaking so dramatically that she could hardly place the car key in the lock.
Never mind all that. She was two hundred quid richer, wasn’t she? That was the important thing.
Two hundred pounds less to pay off that Visa bill.
And a quite a few steps closer to spending an eternity in hell.
CHAPTER TEN
CHELSEA JORDAN SEEMED SURPRISED to see Jessica, despite the meeting having been pre-arranged. ‘Well, well, well. Who would have thought it?’
How come Frieda hadn’t called with the tale of Jessica’s success? Jessica had bent her new friend’s ear – well, associate was probably a better description – for over an hour the night before, until Ronald banged on the door and asked if she was planning to hog the only working toilet all night.
Jessica smiled sweetly at her nemesis-turned-business-partner. ‘I thought you knew I was coming.’
Chelsea held out her hand impatiently. ‘Can I have the stock please?’
‘Oh, sorry.’ The two leather jackets, now in plastic to protect them from the muck in the back of her car, were presented. Chelsea cast an experienced glance over the goods, and finally proclaimed that ‘the new girl done good’.
‘That’s two hundred pounds, right?’
Amused at Jessica’s desperation, Chelsea, blonde highlighted hair bouncing with mock enthusiasm, drew a cross over her heart. ‘Right away, I promise. Give me your account details.’
Already prepared, Jessica passed over the Visa account details. ‘You can pay into that account, right?’
‘Sure, can’t see why not. What bank is it?’
‘Lloyds.’
‘Consider it done. Now, want to choose another job? We’ve had a load come in just this morning. Word of our business is spreading.’
‘Not surprising. Those coats are worth over five hundred pounds each. It’s a bargain for someone.’
‘Sure is. If I dared to tell hubby about it, he’d have to admit the whole scheme is bloody genius.’
Or that you were bloody insane.
Chelsea beckoned her new accomplice into a slick study with the kind of shiny, brown, modern furniture Jessica hated. There was a nasty set of steel and glass shelves too, she noticed.
The BIB typed in a password and brought up a file in Excel. ‘Here we go, pick something else.’
This list was more eclectic that the last, with a number of hardware items (electric saw and drill) and foodstuffs (caviar and champagne from Harrods). No way was Jessica going to run the gauntlet of security at Harrods.
‘I’ll try the Apple iBook.’ It was six hundred pounds worth – about half the price of a new one.
With a raised eyebrow, Chelsea questioned the choice. ‘You sure? That’s high profile stuff. It takes a sophisticated approach.’
Good point. My approach can hardly be described as ‘sophisticated’. ‘Can someone help me?’
Sighing deeply, as if Jessica had just asked to borrow her only car indefinitely, Chelsea tut-tutted for a few moments, then revealed: ‘Rita is best at this sort of thing. She’ll except a cut for helping you, though.’
Of course she would. Of all the BIBs, Rita was the biggest bitch.
‘How much?’
The heavily made-up blonde shrugged. ‘Ten per cent is the going rate.’
‘Oh.’ That wasn’t so bad.
Consulting the computer again, Chelsea said, ‘You should take the two
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