“Two thousand pounds and thirty eight pence. As per your request, the card has now been cancelled.”

Katie murmured a couple of sentences, slammed the phone down and extended her legs in front of her, gyrating her foot around the table. Céline had spilled her cup of coffee the previous morning and Katie would have to get rid of that brown stain on the carpet.

She jerked out of her seat and read through her travelling documents, going back and forth between pages, skimming through a section only to pour over it in detail a few seconds later.

She called the insurance company.

“May I have your policy number please?”

“Yes. A three two B C nine. I have–”

“Your date of birth?”

“Twenty fifth January seventy eight. My bag has been –”

“Post code?”

“S E five nine N S. My credit card–”

“How can I help?”

“My credit cards have been stolen. I want to know if I’m covered.”

The customer service officer took the details of the incident and asked her to hold the line. Katie wrapped the corner of the cushion around her thumb and focused on the tick of the kitchen clock. Three ticks to breathe in and four to breathe out. The music in her ears stopped and the man asked if she could hear him.

“I am afraid your insurance policy doesn’t cover credit card fraud overseas, madam.”

***

Katie waited in the lobby as the receptionist helped an elderly couple with a big suitcase. He shoved the luggage into the lift and the wheels rattled as they rolled over the threshold.

“I hope you enjoy your stay at La Résidence du Soleil,” he said.

The couple thanked him and the door closed. He slopped back to his desk and propped himself up on his chair.

“May I help you?” he asked, without looking at Katie.

“Yes. I’ve got a problem. My bag has been stolen.”

“In the building?” He looked up.

“No, at a party.”

“I’m afraid I cannot do anything for you. You will need to report it to the Police.” He scribbled a short note, opened an ink pad and stamped paid on the invoice.

“Already done. My problem is I have no credit card right now.” He looked up again. “I need to discuss my payment options with you.”

“Well, well. When are you due to leave?”

“In three days.”

“The easiest option is to get someone, your boyfriend maybe, to do a bank transfer directly to us.”

“My mother is on holidays at the moment so I’m not sure-”

“What about your boyfriend?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Don’t you?” He took several sheets of paper and used his hand to square them up into a pile.

“I will get a friend to help me. What are the details for the transfer please?”

“Let me login into the system and I will take you through. It’s a bit slow today so be patient.”

“Sure.”

“So, when did this happen? Last night?”

“No, the night before.”

“You should have come to me yesterday.”

“I couldn’t. I didn’t know then that it had been stolen, I thought it was lost.”

A young woman walked in holding an apple and Katie pressed her hand against her stomach.

“Did you have much in it?”

“Three credit cards and about fifty euros.”

The woman now stood at the entrance, biting into the fruit with gusto.

“It’s not so bad. Cards can be cancelled.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? By the time I reported it, a lot of money had been taken out and the banks say I have to pay!”

“You did take a long time to report it, didn’t you?”

“Yes. That doesn’t make it right to steal my money though, does it?”

“It does not. Ah, here it is. Let me print this page out for you. Everything is on here, all you have to do is call your boyfriend and give him these numbers.”

“I don’t… Thank you, that’s very kind.”

“I hope you will enjoy the rest of your stay at La Résidence du Soleil.”

“Be assured that I am having the best time of my life,” Katie whispered.

“Pardon?”

“Nevermind. Thanks for your help.”

***

Half an hour later, Katie arrived at Sarah’s and knocked on her door six times. No answer. She then rang the neighbours’ bell. They didn’t speak English well but she nodded, smiled and encouraged them. Voices from Sarah’s TV reached them and they suggested Katie tried to catch her attention from the doors at the back.

A three feet high fence separated the gardens. Katie put her right hand on it and lifted her right leg over. Her left leg trailed behind and compromised her balance. The effort necessary to pull it up would quite likely send her down face first into Sarah’s garden. As she pondered how to get herself out of her predicament, the French man lifted her left leg with his left arm, while stabilising her body with his right arm. Sarah stood in the doorway, laughing. Katie ran inside her friend‘s apartment.

“They stole seven thousand pounds, wankers! Can you believe it? The bank says I’m not covered abroad, check with your travel insurance. Travel insurance says they don’t cover it innit. The police says unless they find them, I cannot get my money back. What am I gonna do? I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Oh shit, no way. There must be something you can do.”

Katie paced from the sofa to the TV set in the opposite corner and Sarah kept up with her a couple of steps behind. As she marched through the room, Katie folded and unfolded several times an old receipt she had found in her back jean pocket. She then tore it in small pieces and Sarah handed out a waste basket to her.

“That’s what I’ve been trying all day but it seems like there’s nothing. Wankers, wankers! Can I make a phone call? I need Fiona to send me some money.”

“I can help you if you need it.”

“Thanks but it would be complicated to pay you back, you live here now.”

“The offer’s there, if you change your mind.”

Katie sat on the sofa with the phone in her lap and called Fiona. She uttered several sentences and didn’t stop for breath, until Fiona interjected.

“Hold on, hold on. You’re going too fast. Let me get this straight. You need money? How much?”

“About two hundred and eighty euros. Well, I need two hundred and thirty for the place and about fifty for transport and food.”

“I’ll wire you three hundred.”

“Thank you so much.”

“No problem, that‘s what friends are for.”

“I thought friends were here to make you laugh and forget about all your lousy girlfriends.”

“That too. So, do you feel better now?”

“I do but I’m still so angry.”

“I am too. I bet they thought they were being smart, stealing your bag like that. I don’t understand how people can steal from someone they’ve met at a party and not feel any guilt about it.” Katie resumed her trek around the furniture and walked into the coffee table. She winced and sat on it to rub her knee.

“I know, that’s fucked up. But I’m such an idiot too, to leave my bag there. I should know better, I’m from Peckham, damn it!”

“Don’t blame yourself. At the end of the day, you did nothing wrong.”

“But I wasn’t careful enough.”

“Maybe, but you are still the victim here. It wasn’t your most street-wise moment but don’t you start thinking it’s your fault, because it’s not.”

“I bet it would never have happened to me in London, I always know where my bag is.”

“I know.”

“It’s so ironic innit? Never had anything stolen in south London and there I go on holidays to one party and I lose everything. What am I gonna do?”

“Take it one step at a time. I’m sure you can make a deal with your bank, they’ll understand the situation.”

“I can’t tell Mum, she’s going to kill me!”

“Don’t be silly. Of course you will tell her.”

“I can hear her now, saying how forgetful I’ve been. She might think I’ve started drinking again.”

“She knows you can drink one evening without falling back now.”

“And Matt? That wouldn’t happen to him.”

“But only because he never goes on holidays. Or to parties.”

They both laughed. “Yes, you’re right,” Katie said. “Bad things only happen to those who have fun, don‘t they?”

“Have you got anything you can sell? Any designer clothes? You can sell almost anything on eBay these days, I do it every time I‘m strapped for cash.”

“I have a few bits and pieces but nowhere near enough to make seven thousand pounds. I need to make more money.”

“Maybe you can ask for a rise?”

“Yes, I will, but office juniors don’t get paid much you know, not like smart people with a degree like you”

“A degree means nothing these days.”

“So imagine what not having one means. Like I’m less than nothing.” Katie stood up again, poked at her chest then gestured a thumb down sign to Sarah.

“No it doesn’t. Your boss would be lost without you.”

“Maybe but she never praises me. It’s like I work hard for a tenth of her salary.” Katie hit her head with her right hand three times, in a manner similar to Homer Simpson’s legendary doh and smiled as Sarah laughed.

“You have to make her realise you deserve more.”

“But I don’t. They all have degrees and MAs and whatnots, and I’ve got nothing.”

“You’re smart. You’re as smart as many people who have gone to Uni.”

“Thanks but I doubt she sees it this way. She always corrects me on my English.”

“So you don’t speak the Queen’s English? Who cares? It doesn’t mean you cannot do your job well, and take on more responsibilities.”

“Thanks. In the meanwhile, if you hear of any better paid job I can do, let me know.”

“I’ll keep my ears open in the law firm, you never know.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I wanted a dull job!” Katie winked at Sarah who had just sat on the armchair in front of her. “Only kidding, yeah? If you hear of anything, let me know.”

Katie stayed at Sarah’s for the evening and they ate Pringles and drank red wine in front of the TV. At midnight, she went back to her holiday home, crashed on her bed with her clothes on and kicked away her shoes as she closed her eyes.

***

The following day, Katie visited Sarah again. They stood in the kitchen and discussed everything but the stolen bag.

“Do you want to go for a walk on the beach?” Sarah asked.

“Nah, I don’t want to see anybody right now.”

“OK, not to worry, we can do something else.”

“I’m… sorry…” Katie burst into tears.

“Oh, come here.” Sarah took Katie in her arms and stroked her face. “Don’t cry darling.”

“I’m sorry, it’s difficult.”

“I know, I know.”

“I’m so scared.”

“I know. I know.”

Once Katie had stopped shaking, Sarah leant on the stool behind her.

“Have you not told your mum yet?”

“No.”

“You’ve got to tell her.”

“I will, but I want to sort some things out first.”

“Like?”

“Like, I should call Elaine.”

“Elaine?”

“My boss.”

They moved to the living room and Katie sat on the threshold of the back door, her feet basking in the sun. Sarah grabbed a book, brought over the wireless phone to Katie and settled in one of the garden chairs.

“Thank you so much Elaine. Let me know when you hear from Steven.”

Katie touched Sarah’s leg with her own and smiled as Sarah looked down at her.

“I will. As I said, don’t you worry, I’m sure he will agree to it.” Something beeped at the end of the line. “Just got an email from him indeed.”

“So?”

“Oh dear. Oh dear.“

“What?”

“I’m afraid he’s not too keen on the idea.”

“Not too keen as he wants to negotiate?”

“Not too keen as he doesn‘t want to. I don’t understand, I really don’t.”

“Let me speak to him.” Katie stoop up and started pacing the garden.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Elaine said.

“Why? I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“He’s really not keen.”

“What did he write?”

Katie was now in front of Sarah. She clenched her fist and hit the table.

“I don’t want to say but there’s not much hope.” Elaine said.

“Tell me what he wrote.”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes.”

“He wrote ‘Absolutely not’.”

“Absolutely not…” Two ambulances drove by outside. The air filled with the sound of their alarm and the usual clamour of the building stopped. Soon, they were gone and the whispering of neighbours and passers-by became a sea of noises, a torrent of words, an avalanche knocking on Katie’s eardrums.

“Katie, are you there?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, I really am. I will try to have a chat with him tomorrow but I doubt I can change his mind, you know him.”

“I know. It’s fucked up, it’s fucked up!”

“You’ll find a way, I’m sure. I’m afraid I have to go now, there’s a client on the other line. See you on Monday and enjoy the rest of your holidays.”

Katie rubbed her forehead several times. She rubbed it so hard that the thin flesh between her skin and her skull started to prickle. Sarah broke the silence after one minute.

“Are you alright?” Sarah asked.

Katie didn’t answer.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, no. You heard. Steven, that wanker, said no.”

“Maybe he will change his mind.”

“No he won’t, I hate him. I shouldn’t have put Elaine on the spot like this, there’s nothing she can do now.”

“Maybe Steven is having a bad day, he might reconsider when you get back.”

“He’s not PMT, if that’s what you mean.” Katie laughed faintly at first, then with more conviction as Sarah joined in. “Oh dear, I don’t want to imagine how he would behave if he was, he’s enough of a bitch as he is!”

They laughed for a full minute. Or maybe only ten seconds but they laughed enough for Katie’s shoulders to relax and she stretched her arms in several directions.

“Joking aside, maybe your boss can talk to him on Monday. Didn’t you help her close a deal on a house last month?” Sarah asked.

“Yes I did. Not that I got any credit for it mind, but she knows I helped.”

“Well, it’s her turn to help now.”

“You are right, she should back me up. I’ve not had a pay rise in two years.”

“They totally owe you one.”

“They do. I’ll get it sorted on Monday, or else I’ll tell them where to go. Such a bunch of snobs in there anyway.”

“You could stay here, live with me. It’s an easy life-”

“Sarah! Don’t even go there.”

“No, not like that. You could stay in the spare room.”

“You know it would never work,” Katie said.

“Wouldn’t it?”

Katie held Sarah’s stare.

“I know, I know,” Sarah said.

Katie went to the kitchen and put the kettle on. She kept her hands on the warm handle until it almost burnt.

“I’m gonna have to get an evening job. Or a week-end job. I’m fucked, so fucked.”

“What?” Sarah shouted from the garden.

“Nothing. How many sugars do you want in your tea? I always forget.”

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