No, it’s not. My boyfriend’s wife is being a royal pain in the arse by refusing to allow me to destroy their marriage, he’s not taking the initiative and doing it for me, and now there’s a fairly good chance I’m about to get fired. No, everything is not bloody okay.
‘Of course it is, darling,’ she assured him. Hair done, lipstick on, face the world.
‘I thought you’d be back home to change before we go out to dinner. I just got here and there’s no sign of you.’
She looked at the clock. Shit, it was after 7.30 p.m. Her first instinct was to just blow this whole thing off, but her parents would already be on the way. Nothing else for it. She’d have to go. She could eat, make some pretence about not feeling well, then come back here as soon as possible. No point in wasting a perfectly good restaurant booking. Besides, she was looking smoking hot, there was always some celebrity or another there, and the pics would go down a storm on her Instagram.
‘I’m sorry, honey, I just got held up with this meeting. Anyway, I picked up my pink dress from the dry cleaners this afternoon – you know, the Cavalli one, and it’s in the back of the car. I’ll just change and meet you there.’
She would just pop into the Hilton to get ready. It was the perfect work to party hack for someone with her social life. It was also another company perk she’d lose. Free membership of the gym in the basement of the Hilton. It was so close to the city centre that it came in handy for a quick swim, or a spa treatment, or getting dressed for a night out in a hurry.
Now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. It was all going to work out. No question. Lila Anderson didn’t do failure and she certainly wasn’t going to back down from getting what she wanted.
‘Ok, babe, try to get there as soon as you can.’
What was wrong with him? She’d get there when she bloody well got there. He was becoming entirely too high-maintenance. Just as well it was about to end because he was starting to seriously get on her nerves.
‘Will do,’ she said, managing to keep her voice light. The last thing she needed was an argument with him right now as well. What was the point? One more dinner, then back here, force the issue with Ken, and then they could just be together and none of this other stuff – Cammy, her job, the wife – would even matter.
She was so busy running the internal dialogue, that as she pulled out, did a U-turn and headed back towards the city centre, she didn’t notice Ken’s car coming from the other direction and slipping into the driveway in front of his empty house.
8 p.m. – 10 p.m.
25
Caro
Lila wasn’t here.
Caro’s eyes swept the room on a thirty-second repeat cycle. Nope, still not there – but she was getting slightly lecherous looks from one of the guys at the footballers’ tables.
The waitress came to take her order, and she decided that since she needed to stretch this out, she would go for starter, main course and then she couldorder a dessert later too if she needed to buy more time. She went for brioche, salmon steak, and a large still water on the side.
She was taking a sip when the door opened and Caro’s diaphragm flipped as a man entered. She knew him. It was Lila’s boyfriend, he of the defined abs and unlimited capacity for gift-giving.
She was fairly sure she lost the ability to breathe for several seconds as she waited to see if Lila was there with him, but he let the door bang behind him.
Bugger.
But she must be coming, otherwise why would he be here?
Okay, time to calm down and regroup. The boyfriend – from Lila’s pictures she knew his name was Cammy – was shown to a table in the window, a semicircular booth with a crisp pink table cover and a huge goldfish bowl full of lilies in the centre. It was the only table that had that adornment, so he must have requested it. What kind of guy thought about stuff like that?
Caro knew it would be on Lila’s Facebook page the minute she walked in here.#cheesyboyfriend #luckycow #imrollingmyeyes #eurgh.
Time passed achingly slowly. Lila still wasn’t here and the boyfriend was now on his second drink and looking a little agitated, his eyes flicking between his watch and the door. She had to admit, Lila had good taste. This guy could be on the cover of a magazine. He was even better looking than any of the football players, even if he didn’t seem to have their laid-back confidence. Though that probably came from public adulation and having millions in the bank.
The door opened again. Heart started pounding. It was… Nope, a group of four – maybe two couples – all now standing chatting to the maître d.
Caro really, really wished she’d ordered a gin. This wasn’t the kind of emotional stress that could be soothed with still water.
Her eyes caught a movement at the desk. The two couples were still there, but behind them, she could see the top of the door and it was opening. Yes! It was opening again and… Her eyes darted to Cammy. He’d spotted something, he was standing up, he was smiling, his arms beginning to open…
Why the bloody hell couldn’t those people move and let her see who had just come in? It took every ounce of self-discipline not to yell right over the restaurant for them to get out of the bloody way.
It was like slow motion. Like the old episodes ofBaywatch, where the lifeguard was running across the sands. Only in this case, it was Caro who was drowning and there was no one there to pull her out of the swirling riptide.
Cammy was stepping forward now. Eyes on the door. Someone small. A blonde. Yes it was…! No, it actually wasn’t. This woman was blonde, beautiful, but older than Lila. She searched her mental hard drive for a recollection. Her mother! It was her mum. Lila had posted countless photographs of them on cosy lunches, pamper days for two, weekend breaks, side-by-side sunloungers on tropical beaches. Things Caro and her mum had never done… and never would do now.
