“Why on earth would you want to do that?”
“Because it’s stirred up feelings I’m not even sure I should be feeling at my age. I’m too old for all this.”
“Firstly, there’s no such thing as too old — unless you’re a banana. And secondly, feelings are good. So what — you’re nervous? That means you actually like her, and this could be something. But if it isn’t, chalk it up to experience and move on. The point is, you’re finally ready to put yourself out there. Just relax and have fun.”
“But what about underwear?”
Penny blinked. “Sorry, what?”
“Should I get something sexier than the plain ones I have?”
Penny glanced around before looking back at her with a half-cocked grin. “Babe, you’re in entirely the wrong shop if you want to buy sexy underwear.”
“Well, yes. I’ve gathered that, although I’m pretty sure the sales assistant was just hitting on me.”
Penny’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
Catherine nodded with a grim smile and took a sip of tea.
Penny leaned in and whispered, “You know, I once had sex in an M&S fitting room?”
Catherine spluttered her mouthful, laughing as she mopped the mess with a napkin. “What?”
“You heard me.” She sat back, looking pleased with herself.
“I mean, how? When?… no, why?”
“Oh, years ago.” Penny waved the questions away. “And we’re not here to talk about that. Why are you suddenly so worried about underwear? Were you this bothered when you were seeing me?”
“Well, no. I suppose I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“So, why are you thinking about it now, you slutty little minx?”
Catherine mock-gasped. “It isn’t like that. It’s just that I’ve seen her underwear, and I don’t want to be a disappointment… besides, you’re a fine one to call me slutty, Miss-Have-A-Shag-in-Sparks!”
Penny cackled. “Wait! When did you see her underwear?”
“Oh, it was hanging out on an airer when I went in to feed the cat.”
“Look, babe, you’re overthinking. Try to relax. If things progress to the bedroom and she’s got her prioritiesstraight, she’ll be more interested in what’s underneath your underwear, right?”
Catherine nodded. Penny was right. Penny was always right. But still, this didn’t make her feel any better.
“You’ll text me, won’t you? Let me know you’re okay? Unless you’re having too much fun, of course.” Penny winked.
Catherine resisted the urge to give her annoying friend a dead arm. She wouldn’t be having any fun because she’d be too worried about her knickers to think about anything else.
Catherine rolledup the sleeves of her white linen shirt, which she’d paired with some slim-fitting herringbone checked trousers. She exhaled a shaky breath and scrunched her fingers in her hair; she’d gone for a slightly ruffled look — effortless-looking effort. She applied a generous swipe of concealer around her tired eyes and a liberal spritz of her favourite perfume, hoping that Jules might appreciate the warm, woody fragrance.
Okay, shoes or no shoes?She quickly settled on her suede mules, which she reserved for around the house, but they were trendy enough to look good with the rest of her outfit. And she wasn’t really leaving the house, after all.
Once again she wriggled her hips to adjust the unfamiliar underwear which was riding up ever-so-slightly and making her way too aware of everything down there.Nothing like a pair of uncomfortable knickers to kick-start your libido.
After parting ways with Penny earlier, Catherine grabbed the first sort-of-sexy matching set of underwear she’d spotted in her size, not wanting to linger for too long and risk being ogled by the sales assistant again. She scurried to the till downstairs and waited in line, only to be called up by a dough-faced woman whose thin eyebrows disappeared into her hairline as she scanned the lingerie.
“Do you need a bag?” She held up the offending items and may as well have announced over the tannoy that she, Catherine Truscote, was buying sex knickers.
“No, they’re for a friend,” Catherine said in a panicked yelp.Oh God! Why did I say that?
