Page 58 of The Last Love Song
‘In all my years of teaching, I’ve never come across a better mathematical brain. When it comes to figures, you leave the rest of us standing. Plus, you’ve shown in your business management modules how analytical you can be. Put simply, you’re good at making logical decisions.’
‘In the classroom,’ nodded Helen. ‘I don’t know how I’d cope in the real business world.’
‘Brilliantly, I’d say. Find the idea, Helen, and start your own business. Something small to begin with – don’t gamble with every penny – and trust your instincts. I think you’ll do extremely well.’
‘You seriously think I could run my own business?’
Tony nodded. ‘Absolutely, no question about it. And you have the liquid funds to put into it. If I had your kind of money, I certainly wouldn’t be teaching in a business school, I’d be out there practising what I preach.’ He drained his glass.
‘What kind of business appeals to you?’ Helen asked.
Tony chuckled. ‘Oh, I’ve always had this dream of running a record company and discovering the Next Big Thing. Who hasn’t?’ He shrugged. ‘Or maybe I’d start a travel agency. Overseas holidays are going to become a huge market in the next few years – you wait and see.’
‘Last orders at the bar, folks!’ called the landlord.
‘Want one for the road, Helen?’
‘No thanks. I’ve had too much already.’
‘Righto. Maybe you need something to eat?’
Helen shook her head. She was feeling decidedly sick and the thought of food made her feel worse.
‘Excuse me, I...’
Ten minutes later Helen returned from the ladies’, looking pale and withered.
‘Oh dear, Helen, I’m sorry. I’ve encouraged you to drink too much.’
‘It’s okay. Could you...could you call me a taxi? I think I’d better go home. I really don’t feel very well.’
‘Of course. I’ll take you home myself.’
‘Sorry, I...’ Helen sprinted to the ladies’ again. When she came back she saw Tony waiting for her by the door.
‘There’s a cab for us outside.’
‘Thanks. I only hope I can make it.’
Tony thought for a moment. ‘Look, my place is five minutes from here in a taxi. I’ll take you there and you can go home when you feel better.’
Helen nodded, too weak to argue.
Ten minutes later, she was studying the bowl of Tony’s lavatory. She couldn’t believe there was anything left inside her to throw up. She staggered out into the living room where Tony was pacing the floor anxiously.
‘How are you?’
‘Okay. Maybe if I lay down for a while, I might feel better.’
‘Sure. Here, let me help you.’
Tony led Helen through to a small bedroom.
She lay down on the bed thankfully, and tried to keep her head from spinning. ‘I’m sorry, Tony, I’m really sorry.’ She promptly fell asleep.
Helen woke up feeling disorientated. She looked around the room, the gloomy light of early morning seeping in from behind orange seersucker curtains.
Helen felt her brain playing a tom-tom against the back of her temples. She stood up from the bed cautiously and then walked slowly into the sitting room. Tony was lying full-length on the sofa, snoring softly. In a daze, she tried the broom cupboard and the kitchen before finally locating the bathroom. She splashed water on her face and used Tony’s toothbrush to freshen her mouth. Feeling a little better, Helen crept back to the bedroom. She was just about to drop off when she felt the bed sink down to her right.
