Read the book: «Hidden Sin: Part 3 of 3: When the past comes back to haunt you»

Chapter 18

Paula glanced up at the small staff-room wall clock, willing the hands to move faster towards two. She’d come in early, but with Mr Hunter having been so accommodating about her reducing her hours, she didn’t think it fair to push it by asking to leave early as well.

Her friend Susie, still on lunch, begged to differ. ‘Just go,’ she said. ‘It’ll be well past two by the time he gets back. And if you don’t leave now, you’re going to miss your bus. And your chance to progress the cause for women everywhere. It’s almost your civic duty to get down there and state your case. And I’m sure that, old fart that he is, Mr Hunter would agree.’

So she’d left work, feeling better that she’d shared it all with Susie, because her attitude towards strippers and pole dancers was unequivocal – as it would be, given that Susie’s former fiancé had been caught in flagrante with a bloody lap dancer. So it at least put the lie to Paula’s early-hours concern that it might be her, and not the men, who was out of step with the real world; that she was being prissy and old-fashioned; that some girls did feel empowered by that kind of work. No, her resolution – that she would not back down on this – had been the right one.

She knew digging her heels in again might mean she would have a fight on her hands – God, Mo could even sack her if he felt like it – but she felt strangely calm as she hopped off the first bus at the interchange and ran into the baker’s to pick up a pasty.

She didn’t suppose she’d be eating again till teatime at least and, having foregone breakfast in favour of arguing (though not that unpleasantly) with Joey, needed something to soften the sharp edges of the hangover that were still hammering gently at her temples. In a day full of mistakes – that dress; what had she been thinking? And sitting there snivelling with bloody Mo – staying up with her mam till the small hours, drinking lager, had to rate as the worst. Even if the hangover, which had woken her too early, and still fuming, had at least helped to crystallise her thinking. Whatever impression she’d given to Mo the previous evening, she was now doubly resolute. She mustn’t budge on this. Not an inch.

And Joey, whose call she’d refused to take when she got home, had clearly had second thoughts too. Not about the strippers exactly; as he’d said when she’d deigned to call him back on her break this morning, Mo and Nico could and would do exactly as they pleased. But about his own stance. If Paula didn’t want any part in it, then so be it. He’d tell Mo he didn’t want any part in it either. He was a prize idiot (his term), and she was worth way too much to him.

She ate the pasty on the second bus and made the club just on time, where inside the bar, Joey, Mo and Nico were sitting around one of the tables chatting, and thankfully drinking coffee rather than alcohol. The mood seemed light, which was a relief – they all greeted her amiably enough – but she still took a deep breath before walking over to join them.

‘Afternoon,’ she said cheerfully as she pulled a chair across from an adjacent table. ‘Did you decide to do all the bookkeeping for me?’

Mo slid the pile of green-backed books towards her. ‘Not at all,’ he said, smiling. ‘Just been looking at some totals. Don’t worry – we’ve left the donkey work for you.’

She pulled them towards her. The bookkeeping didn’t feel like donkey work to Paula. She’d felt proud to be entrusted with it, not least because of the trust – she was now privy to the amount of money the club was making, which was pretty impressive. She enjoyed the work for its own sake as well. Numbers had always been her strong point, and she derived great satisfaction from poring over all the receipts, wages and till rolls and transferring the information into neat, unblemished columns in the gold embossed Sage accounts books. She did a professional job, and she knew that was important. Mo had told her more than once that her accounts needed to be 100 per cent accurate, as they were going to be looked at by the taxman and their accountant.

She reached for the other paperwork and the plastic packets that held all the invoices. ‘Business is good, then?’ she asked, scooping all the various bits up. In truth, though the figures all seemed very impressive, she still didn’t have a full picture of just what it might cost to run a huge place like Silks. The size of the figures were, for the most part, pretty mind-boggling.

‘Oh, indeed,’ Nico agreed, winking at Mo as he spoke. ‘Very good.’

A few papers fluttered to the floor as she tried to make a pile of them. ‘Well, in that case, maybe I can put in a requisition for a desk,’ she said, wondering quite when the elephant in the room was going to come up.

‘We can do better than that,’ Nico said. ‘As of next week you shall even have an office. Billy’s working on fitting it out as we speak. On which note –’ He stood. ‘I need to speak to my wife. She is a very expensive woman, and I need to indulge her, so she’ll be very pleased to know just how good.’

‘Even without the strippers,’ Mo said, once Nico was safely out of earshot.

‘Mo, look,’ Paula began, but he held a hand up to silence her.

‘There’s no need to worry your pretty little head about that further.’ He glanced at Joey. ‘Assuming I’m allowed to use a phrase like that?’

‘For God’s sake, of course you are,’ Paula began. ‘Mo, it’s just that –’

‘It’s fine, babe,’ Joey told her. ‘Me and Mo have had a chat about everything, and –’

‘And the subject is now closed,’ Mo said firmly. ‘Well, at least for the moment. It was just one of many ideas we’ve been throwing around. But as we’re doing so well already – well, we don’t even really need it, do we? And the last thing I want to do is cause trouble between the two of you, for the sake of a few grand, so, as I say, consider it forgotten.’

‘Really?’ said Paula. Could it really be that easy? Joey obviously had more influence over Mo than he’d thought. More than she’d thought. While Joey and Mo knuckled down to sorting out the stocktaking and the following week’s brewery order, she took her bookkeeping to another table feeling much lighter of heart, even if somewhat bemused.