‘Divorce his arse if you’re unhappy.’ Humour and challenge glitter in her gaze. ‘But can you have the wedding party first? I’ve got a killer dress to wear. Don’t want it to go to waste.’
I exhale an exaggerated huff.
‘What do you want me to say, Kate? That he did a bad thing? Sure he did. But did he do you wrong?’
‘But—’
‘Sit down, babe. Those diamond shoes must be killing your feet.’
‘Why don’t you get fucked?’
‘I will. Tomorrow. I’ve got a date with Rob. And, language, Katherine! I’m glad to see you haven’t goneallposh.’
‘Not much,’ I mumble, pulling a loose thread from the knee of my jeans. Designer jeans with the knee purposely frayed.
‘Come on, drink up.’ She gestures to my barely touched glass. ‘I want to visit this cellar of yours when you’re done.’
I take a sip. ‘I think I must be coming down with something.’ I screw up my nose. ‘It doesn’t taste right.’
‘Just your tastebuds have gone posh, then?’ she says, examining the empty bottle. ‘Cost me seventydirhams, this.’
‘I’ll maybe have green tea.’
‘My arse!’
‘What? I think my stomach’s a bit off.’
‘You need whiskey, then.’
I shudder, because I so don’t.
‘Suit yer’ self.’ She looks around. ‘Where’s the kettle?’
‘In the other kitchen.’
‘Go and ask Arthur to put it on, then.’
‘I prefer my tea without chunks, thanks. Phlegm,’ I qualify.
‘Jeysus, she can’t be that bad!’
‘She hates my guts. Seriously, I’ve taking to hiding my toothbrush from her in case she decides to clean the toilet with it.’
‘Really, Kate,’ she says laughing. ‘You can’t let the woman employed to wash your jacks get the better of you.’
‘That’s not it. She’s been with Kai since he was a littlie—she’s almost part of the family.’
‘Chick, get a grip. You need taking in hand, my girl.’
Bleurgh. Just bleurgh.
If my stomach felt a bit iffy before, now it definitely does, my head filled once again with those bleach-worthy images: the begonia apron, the luridly pink handprints. I can physically sense the smile slipping from my face, replaced by a look, no doubt, that resembles spoiled milk. Why? Because right now, I could almost blow chunks.
‘What? What did I say? Do the family love her that much? All I meant was someone needs to show you the go with this domestic staff business. Anyone would think I’d asked to practise taxidermy on your cat!’
‘That’s not it. Oh god,’ I say, sagging heavily against the kitchen bench, holding one hand to my mouth. ‘You wouldn’t believe if I told you.’
‘Believe what?’
