It didn’t matter. I guessed Rose had told them all what’d happened last night, and now they’d all seen me hugging a woman for far longer than friends usually did.
Coincidence was not my friend. I saw Fallon’s face and was glad we didn’t have overlapping shifts for the next week because my life would potentially have been at risk.
“We should leave you to it. Happy birthday, Erin. It’d be great if we could meet again soon – I literally only know Carter so I’m desperate to meet more people.” Laurie smiled and gave Erin a hug. “And Harriet, Carter mentioned you might be able to help on the book front.”
There was an excited response from Harriet involving something about special editions and sprayed edges, but I wasn’t listening, I was fixed on Rose.
She looked beautiful, dressed in tight faux leather pants, with a sheer blouse tucked into them, I could make out every dip and curve, the swell of her breasts underneath and the smooth, sensitive skin of her neck where I’d kissed her last night. I kept my eyes rising to meet hers, and then realised she’d been staring at me as I’d looked her up, and she wasn’t happy. There was no smile, because now she knew half the secret I’d been keeping, and the half she didn’t know meant that right now, she hated me.
CHAPTER 8
Rose
There wasn’t much need for a car in London, but Harriet had one, and she had somehow persuaded a driving examiner to give her a licence. How, we weren’t sure, because we were definitely convinced she hadn’t passed legitimately.
I was quiet. I’d been quiet all week and immersed myself in work. Luckily, it was the week where I had a psychology conference planned, and I was one of the speakers over the two days, which narrowed down the chance of me seeing Carter at work. I was pissed off with him in more ways than I could name, and for the first time in seventeen years I felt like I didn’t know him.
And I didn’t want to talk about it.
“Harriet, I think you needed to indicate there.” Erin gestured an apology at a driver who was clearly not happy with Harriet’s driving skills.
“That was his fault. He should’ve given way automatically.” Harriet put her foot down on the accelerator.
“I feel like I’m in a really bad version of Thelma and Louise.” Fallon looked at me in the back seat. “Have you made a will, Rose?”
“Of course, I’m from a family of solicitors. Have you not?” I was studying my phone so I didn’t have to pay attention to Harriet’s driving. I’d decided I’d rather not spend the journey holding my breath, so I was developing my detective skills on social media instead, pending phone signal, which was intermittent at best.
“I have no will. That statement’s true in more ways than one. What time are we booked in for afternoon tea?” Fallon shifted in her seat, a long leg moving rather like a twitching spider, and she kicked me in the shin.
“Three. We should get there with time to spare, the rate Harriet’s driving.” I wasn’t quite sure, but she could’ve been related to a Formula One driver.
“If we get there at all,” Erin was fixed on the windscreen. “We have about twenty miles left where we need to clutch on and pray.”
“I’m never driving you anywhere again and that includes back to London on Sunday.” Harriet’s tone was sweet but cutting. ‘You can spend four hours getting the train back.”
“I might just stay in Stratford.” I’d found Laurie’s profile on Instagram and she looked as nice as she had been when we’d met her last week. Her profile was full of books, as mine was when I could be bothered to post anything, and there were reels about her shops and interviews with authors. She was exactly the sort of person we’d want to get to know as all four of us were readers and give us a book to talk about and we were at our most sociable – Harriet and I were at least; Erin and Fallon were more outgoing.
“Is that to avoid Carter?” Harriet nailed it.
“Yep. But I still don’t want to talk about it.” I really didn’t. He’d told me he was single, but not available which now sounded like something from a cryptic crossword where the answer was wanker. Carter had usually told me about girlfriends, never inloads of detail, but I knew if he’d gone on a date or how a relationship was going. He’d never struggled with dating. For him not to mention Laurie at all – that was strange in itself, or had he? He’d talked about someone he’d met who’d been upset, and I couldn’t recall her name.
“You need to stop sulking then,” Fallon said. “Either shit or get off the pan. We want you fully present and not living in your head.”
“Fair enough.” I already felt like I’d spoilt Erin’s birthday meal last Saturday, Carter’s unplanned appearance having caused ructions for the rest of the night. “Where are we staying?”
“A hotel near the theatre. Nice and central. We’re checking in, then heading straight for afternoon tea and champagne – our first trip to Stratford.” Fallon patted my knee. “First of many trips.”
“And we’ll celebrate each one with champagne,” Erin added. “Sounds like a good reason to come back.”
“It’s actually not that far. Just over two hours.” Harriet indicated left, demonstrating that she did actually know what an indicator was because we had been wondering, along with half the motorists we’d passed. “I wonder how long it would’ve taken Shakespeare.”
“Days,” I said.
“Imagine life before cars,” Fallon said, staring out of the window. “I’d be so less busy at work.”
“So would I. And if social media didn’t exist, I’d be even less busy.” I’d started working with a girl whose body dysmorphia was so acute, she wouldn’t walk near anywhere she could see her reflection. This was significantly impacting on her life and showing no sign of easing. At the moment, she was a day patient, coming to see me twice a week, but I suspected that she’d be admitted at some point in the near future. I just wished there was a way of preventing that from happening.
Harriet took a turn a little two quick, causing a roar from her passengers.
