Mimi simply held Prendergast’s gaze until the editor sat back and laughed. But the laugh was an effort to mask disquietude, and it did not convince.
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“You mean Stone reckons Merchant could use his networks to become some kind of international Svengali?”
“That’s the implication. He is very keen to meet with Merchant to discuss the idea. Could you set it up?”
“Hang on. I know Merchant is our ultimate boss, but I’m still not sure I like the sound of this. Why would I want to help Stone with what sounds like an old-fashioned evil plan to take over the world?”
“Need it be evil?” Mimi smiled sweetly. “Think of all the charitable, compassionate impulses that could be manipulated. We could build an ideal world.”
“Merchant isn’t about an ideal world.”
“All the same, he owns the satellites.”
“Listen, Mimi, I’ll tell you what I think. This is a pretty straightforward ruse for your man Stone to solicit Merchant for cash for his tin-pot invention. Okay. So far, so predictable. But I think it will at least give Merchant a laugh or two. And in this economy, a laugh is exactly what we need. I’ll set something up for you.”
“Thanks.” Mimi shook hands with Prendergast and left, nursing the remains of the coffee.
“Well played.” John’s voice in her ear was approving. “Though you needn’t have made me look quite such a nutcase. Ah well. The job’s done, and that’s what matters. Now get to the chemist. And don’t forget the lubricant.”
Mimi called the lift, on her way to that vital lunch break shopping trip, only to find that Liam was the sole other occupant of the elevator car.
“Do I get my explanation now?” he asked, his face sour.
Mimi worked on looking as if her hackles were rising. “Explanation? What, I owe you all that, do I? I’m not your girlfriend, Liam. It was strictly friends with benefits, and the benefits are finished now. Jury’s out on the friendship too.”
“What?” Liam looked so flabbergasted that she had to turn her head away.
“I know you, you, um, were just using me to get closer to Anna. I’m not a mug, you know. I’m not second-best.”
“That’s…what? That’s bonkers. Have you been talking to Stone? Because he’s got the wrong end of the stick. He jumped to conclusions, and… Mimi, listen.” Liam grabbed hold of her wrist.
“Let go of me.”
The door opened at the ground floor, and a group of expectant elevator riders took a step back, curious and perturbed by the little tableau in front of them.
Liam dropped Mimi’s wrist and let her march out first. He must have seen the beady eye of the security guard on him, so he slunk out and appeared to decide against following Mimi straightaway.
Mimi breathed a sigh of mixed relief and guilt, putting her head down and making her determined way up Leather Lane towards the shops.
She picked up her mobile and dialled John’s number, wanting to hear his actual voice rather than its disembodied version floating around her head. She wanted to feel normal for a moment or two—was that so much to ask?
“What do I tell him?” she opened abruptly.
“You seemed to do very well without my input. You gave him enough for him to make his own inference. Now he thinks we’ve been in touch and we’re the jilted lovers, conspiring in our heartbreak. You don’t need to tell him anything more.”
“I feel terrible. He doesn’t deserve it.”
“Pah. I don’t want to waste another second’s thought on him. He’s irrelevant. That’s all. Are you at the shops yet?”
“I’m on my way.”
“Plenty of lubricant, don’t forget. And a bumper pack of condoms. Large size, of course. Perhaps some massage oil. Would you like that?”
“I don’t need a shopping list. I’m fine.”
She was in the chemist shop now, browsing the racks of intimate goods, keeping her eyes well down.