floor in a dead faint by now if she hadn’t already been sitting down.
‘All right, well, that’s good.’ Her expression cautious, Vivien’s smile faltered. ‘I can understand why that seems like such a big thing. You’ve been wearing that ring around your neck for four years—which is probably four years too long given that the rat who gave it to you didn’t turn up for the wedding—but you’ve finally seen the light and sold it, and I think that’s great. Nothing to worry about. No reason to hyperventilate. Do you need to breathe into a paper bag or something?’ She looked at Kelly dubiously. ‘You’re the same colour as a whiteboard, and I’m rubbish at first aid. I closed my eyes in all the classes because I couldn’t stand the revolting pictures. Am I supposed to slap you? Or do I stick your legs in the air to help blood flow? Give me some clues here. I know the whole thing traumatised you, but it’s been four years, for crying out loud!’
Kelly gulped and clutched her friend’s hand. ‘Sold.’
‘Yes, yes, I know! You sold the ring! Just get over it! Now you can get on with your life—go out and shag some stranger to celebrate. It’s time you realised that Mr Greek God isn’t the only man in the world.’
‘For four-million dollars.’
‘Or we could just open a bottle of—what? How much?’ Vivien’s voice turned to a squeak and she plopped onto the floor, her mouth open. ‘For a moment there I thought you actually said four-million dollars.’
‘I did. Four-million dollars.’ Saying the words aloud doubled the shaking. ‘Vivien, I don’t feel very well.’
‘I don’t feel very well either.’ Vivien gave a whimper and flapped her hand in front of her face. ‘We can’t both faint. We might bang our heads or something, and our decomposed bodies would be discovered weeks from now, and no one would even find us because your place is always such a mess. I bet you haven’t even made a will. I mean, all I own is a load of unwashed laundry and a few bills, but you have four-million dollars. Four-million dollars. God, I’ve never had a rich friend before. Now I’m the one who needs to breathe.’ She grabbed a paper bag, emptied out two apples and slammed it over her mouth and nose, breathing in and out noisily.
Kelly stared down at her hands, wondering if they’d stop shaking if she sat on them. They’d been shaking since she’d switched on her computer and seen the final bid. ‘I—I need to pull myself together. I can’t just sit here shaking. I have work to do. I have thirty English books to mark before tomorrow.’
Vivien pulled the bag away from her face and sucked in air. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You never have to teach small children again. You can be a lady of leisure. You can walk in there tomorrow, resign and go for a spa day. Or a spa decade!’
‘I wouldn’t do that.’ Shocked, Kelly stared at her friend, the full implications of the money sinking home. ‘I love teaching. I’m the only one not looking forward to the summer holidays. I love the kids. I’ll miss the kids. They’re the nearest I’m ever going to get to a family of my own.’
‘For crying out loud, Kel, you’re twenty-three, not ninety. And, anyway, you’re rich now. You’ll be a toy girl, or a sugar mummy or something. Men will be queuing up to impregnate you.’
Kelly recoiled. ‘You don’t have a romantic bone in your body, do you?’
‘I’m a realist. And I know you love kids. Weird, really; I just want to bash their heads together most of the time. Maybe you should just give me the money and I’ll resign. Four-million dollars! How come you didn’t know it was worth that much?’
‘I didn’t ask,’ Kelly mumbled. ‘The ring was special because he gave it to me, not because of its value. It didn’t occur to me it was that valuable. I wasn’t really interested.’
‘You need to learn to be practical as well as romantic. He might have been a bastard, but at least he wasn’t a cheapskate.’ Vivien sank her teeth into one of the apples that she’d tipped out of the paper bag, talking as she ate. ‘When you told me he was Greek, I assumed he was a waiter or something.’
Kelly flushed. She hated talking about it because it reminded her of how stupid she’d been. How naive. ‘He wasn’t a waiter.’ She covered her face with her hands. ‘I can’t even bear to think about it. How could I ever have thought it could have worked? He is super-cool, superintelligent and super-rich. I’m not super-anything.’
‘Yes you are,’ Vivien said loyally. ‘You’re—you’re, um, super-messy, super-scatterbrained and—’
‘Shut up! I don’t need to hear any more reasons why it didn’t work.’ Kelly wondered how anything could possibly still hurt this much after four years. ‘It would be nice if I could think of just one reason why it might have worked.’
Vivien took a large bit of apple and chewed thoughtfully. ‘You have super-big breasts?’
Kelly covered her chest with her arms. ‘Thanks,’ she muttered, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
‘You’re welcome. So how did Mr Super Rich make his money?’
‘Shipping. He owns a shipping company—a big one. Lots of ships.’
‘Don’t tell me—super-big ones? Why did you never tell me this before?’ Munching away, Vivien shook her head in disbelief. ‘This guy was multi-millionaire, wasn’t he?’
Kelly rubbed her foot on the threadbare carpet of her tiny flat. ‘I read somewhere he was a billionaire.’
‘Oh, right—well, who’s counting? What’s a few-hun-dred million between friends? So—don’t take this the wrong way—how did you meet him? I’ve been alive the same number of years as you and I’ve never met a single millionaire, let alone a billionaire. Some tips would be welcome.’
‘It was during my gap year. I trespassed on his private beach. I didn’t know it was private; I’d left my guide book somewhere and I was in a bit of a dream, looking at the view, not reading the signs.’ Misery oozed through her veins. ‘Can we talk about something else? It isn’t my favourite subject.’
‘Sure. We can talk about what you’re going to do with four-million dollars.’
‘I don’t know.’ Kelly gave a helpless shrug. ‘Pay for a psychiatrist to treat me for shock?’
‘Who bought the thing?’
Kelly looked at her blankly, worried that her brain appeared to have stalled. ‘Someone rich?’
Viven looked at her with exasperation. ‘And when do you hand it over?’
‘Some girl emailed me to say it would be collected in person tomorrow. I gave them the address of the school in case they turn out to be dodgy.’ She pressed her hand to the ring that she wore on a chain under her shirt and Vivien sighed.
‘You never take it off. You even sleep in the thing.’
‘That’s because I have a problem with my personal organisation,’ Kelly said in a small voice. ‘I’m afraid I might lose it.’
‘If you’re trying to hide behind the “I’m untidy” act, forget it. I know you’re untidy, but you wear the ring because you’re still stuck on him, and you’ve been stuck on him for four years. What made you suddenly decide to sell the ring, Kel? What happened? You’ve been acting awfully weird all week.’
Kelly swallowed hard and fiddled with the ring through her shirt. ‘I saw pictures of him with another woman,’ she said thickly. ‘Blonde, stick-thin—you know the type. The sort that makes you want to stop eating, until you realise that even if you stopped eating you still wouldn’t look like that.’ She sniffed, ‘I suddenly realised that keeping the ring was stopping me from moving on with my life. It’s crazy. I’m crazy.’
‘No, not any more. Finally you’re sane.’ Vivien sprang to