Page 32 of Matilda’s Summer of New Beginnings

RING ME!!!!!!!! the text said. But before I could actually follow that command, the text alert blinged again, showing an enormous series of emoticons, ranging from sad faces, to angry faces, to confused faces and everything in between.

THIS IS HOW I FEEL!!!!!! came the next message.

Oh dear. I quickly texted back: Something kicked off at work?

YES. ME.

Then before I had a chance to actually dial her number, my phone rang. I didn’t know a ring tone could sound urgent, but this one definitely did.

‘Hello?’ I said. ‘Rosie?’

‘Matilda!’ came the surprisingly shouty response. ‘I’m so sorry!’

‘What on earth for?’ My stomach turned over and I stared at my coffee cup. What the heck was Rosie going to tell me?

‘It’s Damien!’ she wailed.

‘Damien?’

‘Yes. He’s — I’m — ugh! God!’ I heard her take a deep breath. ‘He’s in my magazine. I had to tell you.’

I stared at the phone. That wasn’t a bad thing, was it? Really? I mean, hadn’t Edie said that Darling! magazine had great social columns and apparently advertised art exhibitions? Like I say, I rarely read it, so I wouldn’t know the finer details.

‘If he’s got that exhibition coming up, then I’d kind of expect some publicity?’ I said hesitantly.

‘It’s not the exhibition he’s in it for.’

‘Okay.’ I was still failing to see what the issue was. I was hoping that Rosie would enlighten me.

‘He — ugh — he did some modelling for us in March. Remember? I suggested it. And, well. He did it.’

I blinked. Then the corners of my mouth twitched into a smirk. Damien — a model!

‘What did he model?’ I asked. ‘Beanie hats? Oh God, yes! I do recall that you were talking to him about it. Ha ha!’

‘No! No, he did a fashion spread. Like, proper fashion. High-end fashion.’

‘Wow.’ I stopped sniggering and let that sink in for a moment. I mean, I could see him doing a fashion spread, to be honest. I imagined he’d look pretty cool, especially if it was, say, photographed in monochrome. He’d definitely be able to work that look, particularly if there was lots of black and white and general moodiness going on. It galled me slightly to admit it but Damien could look quite sexy. Perhaps the brand he’d modelled for even had beanie hats. ‘And? Why has that made you so cross, Rosie?’

‘Because he looked damn good in it!’ she wailed.

See? I knew he would.

‘And?’ I asked.

‘And — and . . .’ Her voice trailed off into a pitiful whisper. ‘. . . one thing led to another.’

‘Ohhhh . . .’ I suddenly saw where this was going.

‘And, well, we decided to give it another go.’

‘Yes?’ I asked cautiously, already suspecting that I knew the answer.

‘And we were trying to keep it secret,’ she continued, ‘but . . . but . . . it sort of got out at work this week.’

‘In Cheshire? On that photo shoot?’

‘That’s the thing. We weren’t in Cheshire for work. We weren’t doing a photo shoot. We were together having a holiday. That’s why he didn’t bother you that weekend. It was all a cover so you didn’t suspect. I’m so sorry.’