She was about to find out.
Down in reception, the doorman greeted her with a smile. ‘I’m going to a restaurant called Grilled,’ she said. ‘Can you tell me which direction I should head in?’
He looked down at her feet. ‘It’s probably not wise to walk in those heels or in this weather, madam,’ he replied, with the air of a man who knew such things...
‘In that case, taxi for one please.’
The cab took over ten minutes, almost as long as it would take to walk, because they had to negotiate the Glasgow one-way streets. She didn’t mind. This was agony enough, without adding sore feet and shivers to the mix.
When the taxi stopped outside it was five minutes to eight.
Turn around. Go back. Flee.
No, don’t.
She paid and got out before she could change her mind. Behind the smoked glass, decorated with hundreds of fairy lights, she could see a packed restaurant and it struck her that Lila could be in there right now, looking out, absolutely unaware that her half-sister was about to enter her world. Or she could be gazing out at the completely crazy person who had put two and two together and given Lila four million reasons for a restraining order.
She pulled her phone out of her bag and dialled. He answered on the first ring. ‘Todd, where are you when I need you?’
‘Oh my God, what’s happened? WHAT’S HAPPENED?’
‘Nothing. I’m just about to go into the restaurant and called you for a bit of moral support.’
His deflation was obvious. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, I’m near hysterical with suspense here.’
It wasn’t moral support, but it did make her laugh.
‘Just calm down there, dear,’ she giggled.
Todd sighed. ‘I can’t stand being out of the loop. If you can, put me on FaceTime when you get in there and then I can at least see what’s happening.’
‘I think that may be frowned upon in an establishment like this.’ She was fairly sure that would be the case. Now that she was here and could see the restaurant in all its glory, it was even more upmarket than she’d anticipated.
‘I don’t care,’ he exclaimed. ‘What are they going to do – ban you? You’re never going to be back there. And we’ve already covered the fact that I have bail money ready.’
‘Okay, I’m going to hang up now. I’ll see what I can do. Might be worth keeping an eye on Lila’s Facebook though – no doubt whatever happens will get reported on there.’
‘I’m on it. And Caro…’
‘Yep?’
‘I’m proud of you.’
She hung up before he said anything that would ruin her mascara.
The door of the restaurant opened as she approached it, and she nodded a thank you to the doorman.
The first thing that hit her was the noise. The second thing was that there were an inordinate number of men at two huge tables in the middle of the room.
‘Can I help you?’ a beautiful young woman behind a desk asked her.
‘Yes, I have a reservation under the name Anderson.’
The maître d’ checked her tablet, then smiled in acceptance. ‘For one?’
‘Yes.’ Caro caught the moment of scrutiny and realised this was probably an odd scenario – a woman, on her own, in a posh restaurant, on a Friday night. ‘Hopefully my husband is joining me later – his flight has been delayed,’ she blurted.
‘Ah, that’s absolutely fine,’ came the reply.
