“Cushions are a necessity, not a luxury.”
Table service was prompt, and their waiter poured the wine. Lisa’s bracelets jangled as she raised her glass for a toast. “Here’s to new friends.”
Nell clinked glasses with the three of them. Mattie caught her eye and mouthed, “Thank you.” Nell smiled, the short but sweet exchange helping her to relax.
Lisa gestured between Nell and Mattie. “Have you two realised that both your names are in song titles? ‘Waltzing Matilda’ and ‘Nellie the Elephant.’”
Mattie giggled loudly, and her face lit up. Lisa’s joke seemed to break the shackles that the stress of the book launch had imposed.
“Me, waltzing? Not on your life. And Nell is no elephant.” Mattie’s lips curled naughtily. “No trunk.”
Nell felt her cheeks blush. She chose to believe it was because she was centre of attention. “I hate that song. The cool kids sang it at me in the playground all the time. It didn’t help that I wasn’t exactly slim.”
“Kids can be right sods, but they surprise me too, usually when I least expect it.” Lisa smiled at Shona. “I met this one at a netball match.”
“She was a player, I was the referee,” said Shona. “Although she seemed to think she was the boss. Foolish woman.”
“Iamthe boss, lady.” Lisa wagged her finger at her wife. “I can get a class of thirty teenagers to turn silent in one look.”
Shona snorted. “By boring them into submission with yet another historical fact that no one actually needs to know.”
“Ah, but they mightwantto know it.”
“Need and want are two very different fish.” Shona waggled her eyebrows.
Mattie made a gagging motion. “You’re going to put me and Nell off our salmon.”
Nell laughed. It’d been by chance that they’d ordered the same dish, and they’d shared another smile over it. Just being around these women lifted Nell’s heart. This kind of friendship, with women who freely loved women, gave her a wholly unexpected sense of belonging. She’d missed out on so much all these years. She ate delicious creamy salmon pasta and mostly listened to the three friends as they chatted, but gradually she felt comfortable enough to initiate conversation. Shona was intelligent and cut to the chase, whether it was discussing the merits of electric cars or the best spin bowler in the England women’s cricket team. Lisa was more of an observer, taking time to consider and share her thoughts. They all shared a love of exploring the outdoors, and Nell shared an embarrassing-for-her story about falling face-first into a lake while trying to climb into a kayak.
Lisa raised her glass again. “I’m glad you ditched your conference for us, Nell.”
“Here’s to borrowed shirts,” said Mattie.
“Borrowed? Stolen, more like,” Nell said.
Shona laughed as they clinked glasses. “I’d watch this one, Nell. I let her borrow a jumper once, and I never got it back.”
Mattie rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t my fault that my bag was lost in transit. You can blame the airline for that. Anyway, the legal definition of theft is taking something with the intention of permanently depriving the owner of it. Isn’t that right, Chief Inspector Abraham?”
“It is,” Nell said, trying to keep a straight face but almost certainly not succeeding.
Amusement lit Mattie’s face. “There you go. Not guilty.”
Nell gestured at Mattie’s swirly green, black, and white patterned shirt. “I like this. I’m presuming it’s someone else’s though.”
“How rude,” said Mattie. “It’s mine,actually. I love it, but it’s too psychedelic to wear on screen.”
“And my kidnapped shirt is where?” Nell asked and pressed her lips together to stop from grinning.
Mattie slapped her hand over her mouth. “I forgot to bring it. It’s still in my closet.”
Lisa snorted. “Youforgotit?”
Shona waggled her eyebrows. “A likely story.”
Everyone laughed, but Mattie dropped her fork onto the plate with a clatter. “I was stressed, okay?”
Shona laughed louder. “You?—”
