Someone knocked on the door. Great. That was all she needed.
‘Keep eating, please.’ Lauren checked her watch. ‘We’ll be leaving for school in five minutes.’
Ignoring Charlotte’s comments about the merits of laundry-delivery services in London, Florence moaning about her tummy ache, and Freddie not wiping his hands before smearing margarine over his Lego truck, she answered the door.
It was a shock to find Glenda Graham standing on her doorstep. The woman didn’t normally come to her home. No one else knew about the loan, and she wanted to keep it that way. Even more alarming was the sight of her two bulky sons hovering in the background. Vincent and Quentin often helped out backstage with the plays, but they never said much, and didn’t exactly radiate friendliness, so she’d always kept her distance. She’d certainly never invited them to visit her home.
‘Hello, Lauren, love. How are you this fine morning?’
As much as she didn’t appreciate Glenda’s intrusion, knowing this would be their last interaction stopped her from making a fuss. The sooner she paid the last instalment, the quicker she’d be debt-free. ‘I’m well, thank you, Glenda. A little rushed, we’re running late for school.’
‘Then I won’t keep you. I know how it is trying to juggle the demands of family.’ Her smile was sincere. Lauren felt a little bad for never having warmed to the woman. It was probably down to owing her money. ‘Never a borrower nor a lender be,’ her dad would constantly tell them growing up. It was an admirable sentiment, and one she didn’t disagree with, but asking a utility company to wait for their money while she saved up wasn’t feasible or realistic.
She withdrew the folded notes from her back pocket. ‘It’s all there, but please check it.’ She handed Glenda the money.
Glenda’s mass of grey corkscrew curls sat on top of her head like a large hat, wild and frizzy. ‘No need, I trust you.’
‘Thank you.’ Maybe dealing with Glenda hadn’t been so bad after all. She’d trusted her to pay up each week, and respected her wish for discretion … well, until today at least. ‘I really appreciate you helping me out.’
‘My pleasure, love.’ Glenda counted the notes, despite having just said she trusted her. She handed the money to Vincent, who repeated the count before pocketing the cash.
It wasn’t worth getting upset about. The debt had been repaid. Lauren could finally move on with her life.
She was about to close the door, eager to get her kids to school, when Glenda said, ‘Same payment, same time next week.’
Lauren wondered if she’d heard correctly. ‘But that was the last payment, Glenda. Twenty weeks at twenty-five pounds per week. I’ve been keeping track. I can show you the payment dates in my diary if you want to check?’
‘No need. But the debt is far from paid. You still owe interest.’ Glenda removed a small black book from her oversized leather handbag.
‘Interest?’ Lauren’s heart rate began to increase. ‘But … but I didn’t realise there’d be interest?’
Glenda smiled. ‘Oh, love, all loans are subject to interest. You’re a smart girl, surely you knew that?’
‘Well … yes, if I was borrowing from a bank, but we’re friends … aren’t we?’
Glenda squeezed her hand. ‘We are indeed, good friends. Which is why you get mates’ rates.’
Lauren’s head was spinning. ‘Mates’ rates?’
‘That’s right.’ Glenda’s slow smile revealed a discoloured front tooth. ‘If you can’t help out your friends when they’re in trouble, it’d be a pretty bleak world, wouldn’t it?’
Lauren nodded, but she was on autopilot.
‘Which is why I only charge two hundred and fifty per cent.’
A rush of cold raced up Lauren’s spine. ‘But that’s extortionate!’
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