‘Oh!’ Prudence gasps with delight. ‘She’s the one that got her claws into that tasty bit of stuff from JBW? The millionaire? We saw him there, remember? And they were in the papers!’
‘Beckett something or other; that’s him. They say he’s richer than a millionaire.’
‘What comes after a millionaire?’
‘Are you being serious?’ From Prudence there’s no reply. She can’t be a teacher, can she? ‘He comes from old money. Now, there’s a man I’d let take meanywhere, if you know what I mean. And I bet he doesn’t have a dick like a pencil.’
‘Oh, no. Luke took you in the cupboard and you didn’t even have fun?’ Prudence sounds thrilled, despite her faux-sad tone. This pair can’t be friends, surely?
‘He was all talk and no substance.’
‘Babe, little men need love, too.’
‘I know,’ she says with a resigned sigh. ‘I’m meeting him after she’s gone. I believe it’s good to keep your options open.’
‘You’re gonna see him after he blew you for his ex?’
‘He’s finishing with her as we speak. Besides, the bitch already has her man.’
Only, I don’t. And now I’m beginning to wonder if this is part of the reason, while also wondering if I’ll get away with killing him.
‘No!’ Prudence cries suddenly, as though she’s just heard her dog died. ‘I’ve just realised where I’ve seen him before.’
‘Who, Beckett?’
‘No, Luke. He fucked Amelia a couple of months ago. He even called later crying because his ex is pregnant. Her family are absolutely threatening to get out the shotguns. They’ve got to get married—her uncle is the Archbishop of Canterbury or something!’
‘Really?’
‘He’s something religious, anyway. I told Amelia; sounds like he’s just chasing a pity fuck. But you know what they say. If you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas.’
‘Good job we screwed standing up,’ she says with a snigger.
‘Where’d she meet him anyway?’
‘That dating app she’s just signed up for.’
My stomach hits the floor. This is like some great big cosmic clusterfuck.
‘Was it E-Volve?’
‘Nah, it was that other one. The swipey one.’
‘Tinder?’
‘That’s it.’
So much for sisterhood. So much for evolving. And so much for fucking romance!
But at least my purse yields a squashed and very sorry looking tampon from the bottom of my bag as the pair of nitwit’s finish retouching their makeup. Once they’ve left, I wash my hands and stride out to the bar.
Oops. I mustn’t forget Luke’s pint of beer. What the hell, I’m feeling generous. I’ll order him two.
He looks up from his phone as I approach the table, he’s eyes merrily twinkling at the pint glass I carry in each hand.
‘Are you joining m—’ He doesn’t get any farther than that, unless you count a lot of yelledJesusandfucksas he jumps from his seat. To be fair, I did order the really cold stuff. And I had the bartender put ice in.
‘What the fuck, Olivia!’ he yells, on his feet now and standing like a scarecrow, his head bowed, his arms held out and all of it dripping.
