the silver tape holding the frame together. From the look on Emily’s face she’d seen it too. I tried to get a better look but the mass of people and newspapers got in the way.
‘What do we do?’ she whispered, her teeth gnawing her lip. ‘Is it him?’
‘I can’t see properly. Can you? Don’t catch his eye.’
‘You’re taller, you look.’
Taking a deep breath, I sneaked a glance over my shoulder. A gap appeared in the crowd. The hand obscuring his face had moved. My shoulders relaxed as the tension whistled simultaneously out with my breath. I stepped aside so that Emily had a clear view. The man by the door, huddled into an old trench coat like a cold war spy, had wispy grey hair in a comb over and was well into his sixties.
Relief made us giddy and silly. Our sniggers grew to wholesale giggles and by the time we got to our last stop, they’d turned into peals of laughter. The rest of the carriage thought we were idiots and as the passengers thinned, George Smiley glared at us over his horn rims.
‘Can you believe it?’ snorted Emily as we doubled over on the street again. ‘Talk about neurotic nellies. Totally harmless and we’re nearly wetting ourselves. Bet half of London tapes their glasses together.’
‘It’s certainly made me forget my headache.’
‘And me, Miranda. We deserve a glass of something. Let’s stop at the offy and I’ll get a bottle.’
For once, Emily and I were united in rare accord. Sometimes she could be very generous. Not just with wine, frequently she tried to press her clothes on to me, even though most of her tops would go round me three times and her trousers only reached mid-shin. No such problems with her accessories though and she owned a fabulous selection.
Luxuriating in the hot water, which I’d just topped up for a third time, I was tempted to ignore the polite knock at the door.
While I’d been in the bathroom I’d heard Daniel arrive.
Was it him at the door? Emily was more likely to have hollered through the glass.
‘Hi, Olivia.’ I closed my eyes.
As if everything else wasn’t perfect enough. Why did he have to have a lovely deep voice, too?
‘We’re getting an Indian takeaway. Do you want something?’
‘Yes, please. Can I have a chicken dhansak?’
Behind the closed door Daniel chuckled. Did he have to do that? Even that was attractive.
‘Creature of habit.’
‘Sometimes I have prawn pathia,’ I yelled back. Sticking to the same thing was much easier. It saved having menu envy.
‘Anything else, modom?’ he teased.
‘No thank you, Jeeves. That will do nicely.’
‘No wonder you’re so skinny, woman.’
‘Slender,’ I admonished, thinking it was a good job he didn’t have X-ray vision. Throughout my life I’d grown up to the refrain, ‘Aren’t you lucky? You’re so thin.’
No, I’m not. Being thin has its downsides. My knees are dead ringers for large knots of wood on a twig and I look like a boy from behind. Glumly I looked down. As for my boobs; they’d been described as a pair of nasty mosquito bites. Of course, whenever I moaned about them, Emily would pat her 36 double Ds complacently.
‘Grub up in about twenty minutes,’ he said.
I heard a muffled confab with Emily before the front door slammed shut. I stretched lazily in the water and gave myself a stern talking to. You have to pull yourself together. Think of him as an ordinary bloke. Ordinary. Well, not ordinary. Think brick walls. Not about that chip in his tooth when he smiles or … the time we once kissed.
I closed my eyes and in a rare moment of weakness let the memory come burrowing out of the hole from where it was normally firmly tucked.
We’d both had a bit to drink. Well, I’d had quite a lot. Still reeling from Mike’s betrayal, I’d spent that particular evening proving for his benefit what a great time I was having without him. Daniel decided, for the welfare of both my liver and dignity, to intercede and insisted on taking me
‘What do we do?’ she whispered, her teeth gnawing her lip. ‘Is it him?’
‘I can’t see properly. Can you? Don’t catch his eye.’
‘You’re taller, you look.’
Taking a deep breath, I sneaked a glance over my shoulder. A gap appeared in the crowd. The hand obscuring his face had moved. My shoulders relaxed as the tension whistled simultaneously out with my breath. I stepped aside so that Emily had a clear view. The man by the door, huddled into an old trench coat like a cold war spy, had wispy grey hair in a comb over and was well into his sixties.
Relief made us giddy and silly. Our sniggers grew to wholesale giggles and by the time we got to our last stop, they’d turned into peals of laughter. The rest of the carriage thought we were idiots and as the passengers thinned, George Smiley glared at us over his horn rims.
‘Can you believe it?’ snorted Emily as we doubled over on the street again. ‘Talk about neurotic nellies. Totally harmless and we’re nearly wetting ourselves. Bet half of London tapes their glasses together.’
‘It’s certainly made me forget my headache.’
‘And me, Miranda. We deserve a glass of something. Let’s stop at the offy and I’ll get a bottle.’
For once, Emily and I were united in rare accord. Sometimes she could be very generous. Not just with wine, frequently she tried to press her clothes on to me, even though most of her tops would go round me three times and her trousers only reached mid-shin. No such problems with her accessories though and she owned a fabulous selection.
Luxuriating in the hot water, which I’d just topped up for a third time, I was tempted to ignore the polite knock at the door.
While I’d been in the bathroom I’d heard Daniel arrive.
Was it him at the door? Emily was more likely to have hollered through the glass.
‘Hi, Olivia.’ I closed my eyes.
As if everything else wasn’t perfect enough. Why did he have to have a lovely deep voice, too?
‘We’re getting an Indian takeaway. Do you want something?’
‘Yes, please. Can I have a chicken dhansak?’
Behind the closed door Daniel chuckled. Did he have to do that? Even that was attractive.
‘Creature of habit.’
‘Sometimes I have prawn pathia,’ I yelled back. Sticking to the same thing was much easier. It saved having menu envy.
‘Anything else, modom?’ he teased.
‘No thank you, Jeeves. That will do nicely.’
‘No wonder you’re so skinny, woman.’
‘Slender,’ I admonished, thinking it was a good job he didn’t have X-ray vision. Throughout my life I’d grown up to the refrain, ‘Aren’t you lucky? You’re so thin.’
No, I’m not. Being thin has its downsides. My knees are dead ringers for large knots of wood on a twig and I look like a boy from behind. Glumly I looked down. As for my boobs; they’d been described as a pair of nasty mosquito bites. Of course, whenever I moaned about them, Emily would pat her 36 double Ds complacently.
‘Grub up in about twenty minutes,’ he said.
I heard a muffled confab with Emily before the front door slammed shut. I stretched lazily in the water and gave myself a stern talking to. You have to pull yourself together. Think of him as an ordinary bloke. Ordinary. Well, not ordinary. Think brick walls. Not about that chip in his tooth when he smiles or … the time we once kissed.
I closed my eyes and in a rare moment of weakness let the memory come burrowing out of the hole from where it was normally firmly tucked.
We’d both had a bit to drink. Well, I’d had quite a lot. Still reeling from Mike’s betrayal, I’d spent that particular evening proving for his benefit what a great time I was having without him. Daniel decided, for the welfare of both my liver and dignity, to intercede and insisted on taking me
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