Читать книгу Who Needs Men Anyway? - Victoria Cooke - Страница 13

Chapter Four

‘I didn’t know where else to go,’ Megan sobbed as I opened my door to her much earlier than she was due to arrive.

‘Oh, Megan, what’s the matter?’ I asked, bracing myself. She fanned her face with her hand, unable to speak, so I ushered her inside. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

She sat at the breakfast bar and I looked her over discreetly. She was a shadow of herself. Her eyes were marred by dark circles, and her face was pink and blotchy. Her sandy-brown hair looked unwashed and hung limply around her face. She scraped it back, taking a hair tie off her wrist to secure it in a messy ponytail, then slumped back into the chair, her frame swimming in an oversized sweater. She was usually so well turned out that it was a shock to see her like that but even in the state she was in, I couldn’t help but notice that she still looked pretty.

She glanced up. Catching me staring, she shook her head. ‘It’s Mike.’ Her voice trembled while I focused intently, ready to catch the pieces she was about to splinter into.

‘I caught him cheating on me!’ Her floodgates opened as I gasped and clasped my hand to my mouth for effect.

I furrowed my brows. ‘What? Are you sure?’ I asked, trying my best to appear shocked.

She nodded. ‘That’s why I left the other night at the hotel. I saw them at the bar and I didn’t know what to do. I just ran off and caught a bus home. I’m so sorry for leaving you there, Charlotte.’

She wrapped her arms around herself as I felt a pang in my chest. I wasn’t sure if the root cause was guilt or profound sadness, but I felt a sense of responsibility to Megan to make sure she got through it. Without speaking, I walked over to her and wrapped her in a hug, not caring that her tears soaked through my T-shirt, dampening my shoulder.

‘Oh, Megan, don’t worry about me. I just can’t believe it. I don’t know what to say.’ I patted her back.

She sniffled. ‘There’s nothing to say – he’s a bastard and that’s it. I can’t believe I was going to marry him.’ Her face was haunting, and my stomach churned seeing her in that state. A small niggling voice in the back of my head was questioning whether I should have stayed out of it in the first place. The affair could have fizzled out and they could have had a long and happy marriage had I not interfered.

‘I’m just glad I found out now and not a few years down the line when . . . well, if we’d have started a family, it would’ve been even worse.’ My body sagged slightly with relief. She was right there – I couldn’t imagine having children with someone who had cheated on me.

I rubbed her back. ‘Definitely.’

Once she’d sipped her tea, she calmed enough to be able to talk. ‘I’m so sorry for landing on your doorstep in this state unannounced. It’s just, well, my close friends and family never liked Mike, and a bunch of I told you so’s weren’t what I needed today.’

I smiled to reassure her that it was okay. To be honest, I might have turned to her if, God forbid, I ever found myself in that situation. My only other choice would be Kate and she isn’t usually overgenerous with her sympathy.

‘All my friends who do like Mike are his friends too, and I don’t want them involved in taking sides. Yet.’

‘I understand. Stay as long as you need. Has Mike left?’ I asked cautiously.

She nodded. ‘Yes, he’s apparently gone to a hotel. He said the whole thing was a mistake and I was the one he wanted.’ She let out a humourless laugh and allowed her shoulders to flop. ‘But he could be staying with her for all I know. Do you know the worst part of all of this? I know who she is. She comes to my Pilates class and we’ve chatted a few times. Can you believe that? She’s younger, prettier, it’s such a cliché.’ She shook her head in disgust.

I sat on the stool next to her and asked her softly what she was planning to do.

‘I don’t know. We had plans, and it’s like my whole future has been shattered.’ Her voice cracked as she spoke. ‘We were going to start a family and he’s thrown that away for some waitress with incredible core strength and flexibility.’ She shook her head. ‘One thing I know for sure is that I won’t be taking him back – he’s not the type of man who’d make a good father.’

She lifted her head and her watery eyes met mine. ‘You’re so lucky to have a partner like James. Someone who respects you and shares your life goals. Hang on to him.’

She was right: I was lucky to have a man like James, and it made me feel her pain all the more. I couldn’t imagine him ever doing anything like that – he didn’t have the time for starters but he loved me.

She left a short while after, saying she needed to be at home to sort out her next move, and I felt satisfied she’d be okay after letting out some emotion. Once she’d gone, I started to think about my relationship with James and what Megan had said about him being a great man and one to hang on to. I didn’t expect Megan would be coming back for my training session so decided to make an effort, and since Kate’s comments about my underwear the other day had been playing on my mind, I got in the car and drove to the Trafford Centre, heading straight for Selfridges when I arrived.

When I reached the Agent Provocateur concession, I froze, bewildered for a moment. It was a brand that people always talked about but none of the garments on display seemed to make much sense. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks.

‘Can I help you?’ the immaculate assistant asked as I turned to leave but my words were stuck. I could’ve just ordered online, I scolded myself. It was unlike me to lack composure, and I hated myself for coming over all feeble and pathetic. In an attempt to appear more confident, I quickly scanned the rail next to me and picked up a small black playsuit that looked sultry yet classy.

‘I was just after one of these.’

‘Ahh, the Gloria basque. It’s a popular item.’ She smiled, taking it from me. She looked at the tag then looked me over. ‘I don’t think this is your size. ‘What bust size are you?’

‘Er . . . 34C,’ I replied.

She nodded and said she’d be back in a moment. I relaxed a little as I waited and started to browse, idly flicking through the delicate fabrics. The assistant soon returned with my garment.

‘We had one in stock,’ she said, ‘and I’ve brought out the matching knickers and some stockings to complete the outfit. Would you like to try them on?’

I shook my head. ‘No, they’ll be fine, thank you. Where can I pay?’

‘Please, follow me.’

Thankfully it was an unusually quiet day but that didn’t stop my eyes darting about frantically as I followed her to the counter, but before I knew it, she’d carefully wrapped the items and placed them in a bright yellow bag. Just as I was tapping my four-digit PIN into the card machine a familiar voice caught my attention and I spun around to see the back of a woman called Ginny who was part of the golf club clique. ‘Emmy, hi,’ she wailed into her phone. ‘Yes, of course I am . . . No idea, I’m out shopping for something now . . . seven I thought . . . yes she’ll be there – Lauren was inviting all the WAGs.’ She chuckled as if she’d made a joke.

The assistant handed me my bag just as I caught the tail end of the conversation: ‘See you tonight.’

I scurried off before she saw me. Once I was safely back in my car, I couldn’t help myself, I had to check my phone for an invitation to whatever the gathering was. I knew before I looked that I wouldn’t be invited, not after the way Emmy had blanked me. I didn’t really care anyway but that didn’t stop my curiosity. Pulling my phone out to see the blank screen only confirmed my suspicions. I let out an even sigh. It looked like I was definitely out of the group. I don’t know what Lauren had told them all and I didn’t care. Strangely, I was quite relieved.

At around 6.30 p.m. I took a shower and let my hair dry naturally wavy. I applied some natural-looking make-up with toned-down smoky eyes and a red lip-stain before slipping into my spoils of the day. I puffed my hair up at the roots, using a bit of hairspray to keep the volume, and put on my Valentino studded sandals before looking in the mirror.

The flattering lines of the basque pulled in my waist, and there was enough bust support to give an ample-looking cleavage. My bigger than usual hair made my body look smaller, and the high-heeled sandals my legs longer. I didn’t mind admitting it – I still had it. My black satin robe lay on the bed so I put it on and tied the waist before going down to the kitchen, where I poured two glasses of Argentinian Malbec – James’s favourite. Then I sat and waited.

Seven came and went, and by seven-forty I’d almost finished my second large glass when I heard the door open and a waft of aftershave hit me. On standing, I felt tipsier than I’d realised I was and had to hang on to the bar stool and take a minute. I giggled. My cheeks had a fuzzy warmth, and any inhibitions I’d had in the shop earlier had been destroyed by the alcohol. I loosened the belt of my robe and turned around, letting it fall to the floor in front of him.

James’s face was a picture of surprise and bemusement. His lips parted like he was about to speak, but the words didn’t come. Seeing him, a powerful lawyer, lost for words gave me all the more confidence as I sashayed towards him, kissing him slowly when I got there. He returned my kiss, slowly at first and then quicker as he traced a finger up my arm and right down my back to underneath the cheek of my bottom.

‘You look amazing,’ he whispered close to my ear, sending a tingle down my spine, making me want him all the more. Then he sighed. ‘I’m sorry, I have a meeting with the judge tomorrow to present my case. I’ll be working on it all night.’ He let out a groan and pulled me in close, smelling my hair when he did.

Tears pricked my eyes as I buried my face in his shoulder, and I fought hard to hold them back when I pulled away. Unable to speak, I handed him his wine and tried to smile.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said again softly and planted a kiss on my forehead.

When he’d left the room, I allowed a tear to roll down my cheek. The mixture of humiliation and frustration was worth that at least. I drank the rest of my wine and tried to pull myself together. It wasn’t James’s fault, or mine – it was circumstantial and badly timed. I went upstairs and slipped into something that really was more comfortable – my PJs – and called Kate.

‘I tried your underwear idea,’ I said as soon as she answered.

She didn’t need any time to pause and process. ‘And?’

‘Well, it was badly timed. James doesn’t need me to do things like that. We understand each other. I wish I hadn’t listened to you.’

‘So, he was too busy? Again? What did you wear?’

‘A black Agent Provocateur thing with suspenders – the works. I looked pretty good, even if I do say so myself, but it didn’t work.’ I emphasised the last part.

‘I’ve never heard of Agent Provocateur underwear that doesn’t work. Are you sure you had it on right?’ I heard her sip what I assumed to be wine.

‘Well, I thought it looked okay.’ I’d not actually considered whether or not it had been on right. I was usually more of a Playtex woman – the more modern styles at least, not the frumpy old-dear ones. I just wanted something sturdy and no-nonsense that looked okay and I didn’t have to worry about.

‘That husband of yours needs to realise what he’s missing.’

I sighed before moving the conversation on. ‘My trainer, Megan, finally caught her fiancé with that mistress of his.’

‘Oh, the poor woman. How did that play out?’ Kate said, her interest clearly piqued.

‘She’s understandably devastated so I’ve offered my support.’

‘Does she have her revenge plan in order?’

‘I don’t think revenge is what she’s going for. She’s upset, humiliated, and her life is in tatters.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t let him get away with it.’ I heard Kate take another sip of wine.

‘I know you wouldn’t.’ I laughed.

‘Why don’t you see if she wants to come out with us for a drink next week? Thursday perhaps? That gives her over a week to get to grips with things. There’s a new champagne bar I’m dying to try and it’ll do her good to get out. Plus it would do me good to have a girls’ night and I need to see you dressed up in something glam because that mental image you left me with last week, of all the beige, is truly awful, and as a result, our friendship is currently on the line.’ I smiled. Kate was Kate.

‘I do have a slinky red dress I’ve been dying to wear . . .’

‘Oh thank God!’

‘I’ll drop Megan a text and see if she’s up to it.’

‘Great, I’ll see you Thursday.’ She blew a kiss down the phone and hung up.

***

Megan had reluctantly agreed to come out. There was a chance she felt obliged since I was technically her boss, but I didn’t feel too guilty since it was for her own good. We met earlier in a bar in Wilmslow as I thought pre-Kate drinks were probably wise. On Megan’s arrival, her dowdy appearance shocked me a little, but I hid my reaction, for fear of upsetting her. She had on a lilac dress that fit poorly and washed her out. She’d attempted some make-up, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best. Her usual natural beauty wasn’t shining through, and she looked frumpy. I was sure it was a reflection of how she was feeling and continued to say nothing, but she brought it up.

‘I look a mess, don’t I?’ she said as we sipped a glass of wine.

‘Not at all. A bit tired, perhaps – have you slept?’ I wasn’t going to agree aloud.

She shook her head. ‘No really, not since . . . before.’ I gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Will your friend mind a miserable face like mine putting a dampener on her night?’

‘Not at all. Kate is quite a character if you remember. She’ll maybe even take your mind off things for a few hours.’ Deep down, I hoped Kate would go easy on Megan. Once we’d finished our wine, we took a cab to the champagne bar in Alderley Edge where Kate was already waiting. In deep contrast to Megan, she looked amazing in a gold skimpy dress, which set off her tumbling ebony waves and tanned skin perfectly.

She was seated in a plush booth with white leather padded seats and a dark glossy table. It was lucky she’d found a table since the place was packed to the rafters, but knowing Kate, there would have been some eyelash-batting involved at the very least. She stood up to greet us as we walked over.

‘Ladies, it’s lovely to see you both.’ She air-kissed us before sitting back down and beckoning a waiter over. I introduced Kate and Megan since they’d only met briefly, and then sat down.

‘Well, don’t you look fabulous tonight?’ Kate said, casting her eye over me. ‘Now don’t let me see you in that jumble of beige and pearls again – or at least not for another forty years.’ She flapped her hands in my general direction before catching sight of Megan, who was looking around the room and adjusting her dress around the chest.

Before Megan had time to see the expression of horror creep across Kate’s face, I pursed my lips and shook my head at her, making sure she saw me. Kate waved a hand at me flippantly just before Megan turned back around to the table. All the arm-waving was starting to make me dizzy.

‘So, Megan, Charlotte told me all about your fiancé. I’m truly sorry. I do understand how hard it is.’ She leant across the table and patted Megan’s hand. To be fair to Kate, she almost did know, as her first husband had left her for another woman – but Kate wasn’t the type to sit around feeling sorry for herself, and I’d always felt the whole situation had been no more than a mild inconvenience to her.

‘Thank you,’ Megan replied quietly before returning to uncomfortable room-gazing.

‘Have you plotted your revenge yet?’ Kate drove her bulldozer right at Megan. I glared at her, and she shrugged as Megan turned back to us and shook her head. ‘No?’ Kate didn’t attempt to conceal her horror. ‘But it’s part of the moving-on process.’ Kate had gone in for the kill with her ex, making sure she squeezed as much money out of him as possible in the divorce settlement. In fairness, she had put her life on hold to be the ultimate ‘trophy wife’ for the seven years they’d spent together. Kate was on track to be some hotshot marketing person when she met Mr Money Bags and it was him who didn’t want a working wife – it wasn’t right for his image.

I tried to soften the conversation as the waiter deposited our drinks on the table. ‘Kate, it’s just been a few days. Megan is still coming to terms with it all.’

‘It’s okay, Charlotte. I have already thought about it. Do I scratch his car, slash his tyres, or publicly humiliate him somehow?’ She sipped her champagne, and Kate cut in, misreading her defeatist tone.

‘Well, it’s a start, but I think we can do better than any of those things.’ Kate tapped her fingers on the table, pondering.

Megan forced a smile. ‘I was just going to say that as I imagined doing those things, I couldn’t imagine feeling any better about myself or the situation. I’d probably feel petty and juvenile. I think I just want to focus on me for now.’

For a brief moment, Kate was silenced.

‘Well, I think that sounds sensible.’ I raised my glass.

‘I think the best way to hurt him is to move on and try to rebuild my own happiness,’ Megan continued, and I nodded in agreement. ‘He’s already begged me to take him back. He still wants to go ahead with the wedding.’

‘The only thing he should be in church for is his own funeral,’ Kate said, scoffing. ‘We could work on that though.’ She winked.

‘I think murder is frowned upon.’ I shot Kate a look – not everyone got her dark sense of humour. ‘You’re right, though. If he thinks you’re moving on, it will really get to him.’ I took a sip of fizz, realising that despite the awful circumstance that brought us together, I was actually having a lovely evening with two people I really liked.

‘Maybe we could get you a hunky male escort to go tile shopping with,’ Kate said wickedly.

‘I’m not sure my finances would stretch to that – my bills are about to double.’ Megan glanced down at the table before looking back up. ‘Besides, I think Mike would see through it and I’d just look pathetic – our bathroom and kitchen are new.’

‘We could start with something simple to cheer you up, like a shopping trip or a makeover. My treat,’ Kate announced. I shot her a look, willing her to avoid mentioning Megan’s appearance. She understood my glare – and ignored it anyway. ‘We can revamp this dowdy look.’ She waved her hands in the general direction of Megan’s dress. ‘And show him what he’s missing.’

We? I thought to myself. It appeared as though Kate had found us a new hobby.

Megan glanced at us both sheepishly. ‘I couldn’t possibly take advantage of your generosity, Kate, but I wouldn’t mind a shopping trip to take my mind off things. A bit of an image overhaul and some style advice might be nice. You seem like you have plenty.’

I put an arm around her in support. She was coping with Kate so well. I love Kate to bits, but she can be a bit much if you don’t know how to handle her.

‘So that’s a yes to shopping then?’ Kate pressed. Megan nodded. ‘To shopping!’ Kate raised a glass and we all clinked.

‘How about we meet up next Saturday, head into town, have a spot of lunch, and then grab a few drinks after?’ I suggested, glad of having something to look forward to.

‘I’d like that.’ For the first time that evening, Megan gave a genuine smile.

***

We met outside Harvey Nichols at Kate’s request. I’d tried to suggest the Manchester Arndale, but Kate had pulled a face. While we waited for Megan to turn up, I warned her, ‘Megan hasn’t much money. You know she’s my personal trainer and Mike is a tile warehouse manager, so her bank account balance won’t come with six zeros at the end like yours did after your divorce settlement.’

‘I said it would be my treat.’ Kate shrugged. Sometimes she was impossible.

‘Megan is proud. She won’t appreciate charity.’ I lowered my voice as Megan approached, walking heavily towards us. My unfounded motherly instinct kicked in, prompting me to dash over and give her a hug. ‘How are you?’ I asked, genuinely concerned.

She sighed. ‘I’m coping.’

‘Let’s put a smile on your face then.’ Kate linked her arm through Megan’s and marched her through the doors to Harvey Nicks. The smell of luxurious perfume hit us as we walked in. I don’t know if it worked for Megan, but it gave me a sense of instant calm, putting me in the right frame of mind to spend some money.

‘What perfume do you wear?’ Kate asked Megan as we browsed the concessions.

‘I’ve worn the same perfume for years – Armani Code.’

‘That’s the first thing that needs to go. New you, new fragrance, otherwise you’ll be reminded of your old life with every squirt.’ She was already picking up bottles and sniffing them. ‘Now, if Mike still has clothes and things at your house, I suggest you use whatever you have left in the bottle to spray everything he owns. When he takes it all away he’ll have a lasting reminder of you.’ She ignored Megan’s confused expression and focused on stalking the counters, squinting at the beautiful little bottles and randomly casting her eye over Megan before coming to a halt at the Viktor & Rolf display. ‘You look like a Flowerbomb girl,’ she said, before engulfing Megan in a cloud of the candy-sweet perfume.

Megan wafted her hand in front of her face, presumably trying to find some oxygen amidst the haze. ‘It’s a lovely smell,’ she said eventually before picking up the shiny, plump bottle. Then she gasped. ‘This bottle is a hundred quid!’ She placed it back on the shelf carefully, presumably embarrassed and petrified of breaking it.

‘Can I help you?’ a smartly dressed assistant asked as Kate continued her perusal, oblivious.

I could sense Megan’s discomfort. ‘Did you like the perfume?’ I asked. Buying her a little gift would be the least I could do, and she had such a sweet innocence about her, I had to agree with Kate that Flowerbomb was a good choice.

‘I did, but I can’t spend that much money on it.’

‘We’ll take a large bottle of the eau de parfum, please,’ I said to the assistant, who nodded once and took one from the drawer. Megan looked at me, bewildered.

‘Please, let me treat you – as a thank you for all your personal training and for going above and beyond the call of duty, coming on a Sunday and accompanying me to the equipment shop.’ She took a deep breath but didn’t reply so I hoped she’d let me off the hook.

The assistant handed the carrier bag over to Megan and she turned to me before we walked over to Kate. ‘Thank you, but you really shouldn’t have. I would have bought it myself.’

I gave her a small smile. ‘We’re here to cheer you up.’

As we approached Kate, she was chatting to an immaculate brunette with her hair scraped back in a high ponytail. When Kate turned to face us, she had a huge grin on her face. ‘Girls, this is Lucinda and she’s going to give us all a makeover!’ I eyed Megan warily. The night out we’d had was probably the first time I’d seen her wear any make-up before; she was actually one of the few people I’d met who looked better without it.

‘I’ve never had a makeover before, unless you count my engagement party when Mike’s cousin doused me in her entire MAC collection and got offended when I washed it off.’ Her facial muscles dropped slightly at the memory, and I could tell she was trying hard to remain composed.

‘We can do something else?’ I said, rubbing her arm but she shook her head.

‘No, if I’m moving on, then I have to try new things. Let’s do this.’ She forced a smile before pausing. ‘Wait, how much is it?’

‘It’s a promo – it’s free, dear,’ Kate said with a smile.

‘Brilliant.’ Megan beamed and made a beeline to Lucinda who had walked over to the concierge desk.

I pulled Kate aside, making sure Megan was out of earshot. ‘This isn’t free – it’s at least a hundred quid each.’

‘And the rest, but I’ve already paid, and didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s nice to be nice, Charlotte?’ Kate grinned.

After an hour of Lucinda picking out clothes for us, we each had an impressive pile of designer gear, which we tried on in between taking sips of champagne.

‘These are just to try on again after hair and make-up, right?’ Megan said, holding up a gorgeous Balmain leather jacket while eyeing the hefty price tag. Her eyes bulged.

‘Yes, of course,’ Kate said with a laugh that I knew to be her fake one. ‘Now come on, it’s makeover time.’

After our bouncy blow-dries and glamorous make-up, our own clothes didn’t do us justice.

‘Girls, we have to have at least one of those dresses!’ Kate said, dragging us back to the concierge desk. Megan shot me a worried look so I mouthed the words ‘don’t worry.’

In the changing area, Lucinda had three garments each for us – the favourites we’d selected earlier on.

‘Oh, ladies, you all look fabulous,’ she gushed, taking in our hair and make-up. ‘I’ll go and get some drinks and nibbles; you ladies try everything on and we’ll have a look at you when you’re ready.’

Megan came out first, wearing a navy, lace-trim, satin slip dress. It was simple but really worked for her; her shiny honey-brown hair and similarly coloured skin set the dress off perfectly, and the bit of contouring and understated smoky eyes had worked wonders for her. I noticed she couldn’t help glancing at herself in the mirror. I smiled, pleased she was happy.

‘Much better,’ Kate said, looking her over.

‘You look beautiful, as you always do,’ I said, ignoring Kate’s blunt remark.

She smiled nervously. ‘I do love my hair and make-up. And this dress is amazing.’

Lucinda returned with three champagne flutes. ‘Lucinda, we’ll take that dress,’ Kate said, pointing at Megan.

Megan’s eyes filled with horror and she shook her head. ‘I . . . I can’t,’ she whispered, so just Kate and I could hear.

Kate, the champers obviously getting to her, waved off the remark. ‘It’s on me. You just have to have it. Today, think of me as your fairy sugar-mamma.’ I was surprised she didn’t hic at the end. I started to feel a little embarrassed on both Kate’s and Megan’s behalves and slipped into my cubicle to try on the teal Missoni maxi-dress I’d loved earlier while Megan continued to protest about Kate’s gift. With my hair and make-up done, it looked even better and it wouldn’t be long before the Emsworth, Haiden & Haiden summer ball. I popped my head around the curtain. ‘And this please, Lucinda.’

Next, it was Kate’s turn. She stepped out in a white, form-fitting Versace dress that ended just above her knee. It was plain apart from two gold rings – one on the shoulder and one on the waist. Her tanned skin and dark hair contrasted perfectly.

‘I think you have yourself a winner there,’ I said, but I needn’t have.

‘I know.’ She smiled while smoothing the dress down over her curves and admiring herself in the mirror.

‘You look like George Clooney’s wife,’ Megan exclaimed.

Kate smiled. ‘Shame he didn’t meet me first.’ With that, she turned back and went into her cubicle.

While we were waiting for Kate, I started to send James a text message, just to see what time he’d be back from the office. Yes, he was at the office on a Saturday. When I looked up, I saw Megan trying on the Balmain leather jacket and turning from left to right as she admired it through the mirror.

‘You love it, don’t you?’ I asked.

‘I do. I’ve never had anything so expensive on my body before. Not even my engagement ring is worth this much.’ She shook her head. ‘The leather is so soft.’

‘Well, if there was ever a time to treat yourself, now would be it,’ I said.

‘You have to have it. It’s like it was made for you!’ Kate said, bursting out of the fitting room.

‘So, what are we having, ladies?’ Lucinda asked.

‘I’m taking these,’ Megan blurted out, holding up the dress and the jacket in one hand and a credit card in the other. I glanced at Kate. ‘Don’t worry, the account is in Mike’s name, and he’s recently cleared the balance,’ Megan said, grinning.

‘I’m beginning to like you.’ Kate smiled, placing an arm on Megan’s shoulder.

An hour or so later, we were sipping Singapore Slings and dancing in one of the trendy bars that had popped up in Wilmslow. Megan was even seeming to enjoy herself, which meant I could relax a bit too.

‘All right, ladies?’ A doughy man in navy jeans and a white shirt invaded our dancing triangle. ‘Can I buy one of you gorgeous ladies a drink?’ I looked him over wondering if he’d be a good option for Megan to have a bit fun with. With his fleshy face and leering grin, he wasn’t.

I was about to shoo him away when Kate piped up. ‘Rule number one, you don’t just barge into a group of women having fun. Rule number two, you pick one girl and politely flatter her; you don’t chance all three.’ She shook her head and turned her back to him. ‘I bet he has the gall to complain about being single too!’ I started to feel a bit sorry for him.

‘Ooh, we have a feisty one here.’ He looked amused. ‘Okay then – you, I’ll buy you a drink.’ He prodded a finger towards her ample bosom and smirked as he cast a lewd eye over her perfect figure – a gesture she would definitely not appreciate.

Her nostrils flared. ‘How about you buy yourself a taxi home and a shirt that doesn’t gape around your swollen middle,’ Kate snapped, seemingly not taken with his charms.

He pulled a face and sauntered off, making a beeline for the next group of women.

‘Well, if that’s what the fish in the sea are like these days, I think I’ll stay single for the rest of my life,’ Megan said allowing her features to sag in defeat.

‘It’s not just the fish in the sea that pose a problem.’ Kate nodded towards the group of girls that our lecherous laddie had just approached. ‘It’s the competition. Look at them – it’s like a Victoria’s Secret works do over there.’

She was right: women seemed to have come on leaps and bounds recently in make-up artistry, creating cheekbones, eyebrows, and a flawless finish that defied nature and made Photoshopped magazine pictures seem plausible. Of course, for this one night only, we looked pretty darn good too but the women she was talking about were something else. There was a certain air of ‘supermodel’ style about them.

Today’s role models are a tough act to follow. Instagram and Snapchat ‘celebs’ promoting buff bodies and clean eating make for a tougher aspiration. I’d thought clean eating was washing your salad before chucking it in a bowl until Megan told me it was the latest fad diet. Admittedly, I’d then tried it – desperate to keep up.

‘You can’t tell how old anybody is any more,’ Megan said.

‘That’s because people have fillers and Botox and get their lips done,’ Kate chimed in.

‘You’re one to talk.’ If it was available, Kate had tried it – not that I was a stranger to the odd minor filler here and there.

‘Well, I’m forty; I’m talking about younger women. I mean, look how skinny they are – where do they keep their organs?’ She was gawping at the same waif-thin, seemingly ageless group at the bar that Megan had pointed out.

‘You’re forty-three! And haven’t seen a double-figured dress size in your life. You’re basically an older version of those girls but still you look as good.’ Kate was exasperating sometimes and I was beginning to wonder if she’d start quoting Snow White villains in her next breath. Megan had stood in a bemused silence throughout our exchange.

‘An eight, not a double zero. The only curves those girls aspire to would have to be made from silicone.’

I smirked. Kate was a handful but she wasn’t a bitch. ‘Oh my goodness, you’re jealous.’

‘I’m not, I’m—’

‘Don’t worry, Kate, you’re still the fairest in the land,’ I said in a mock-babying tone, earning myself a weary glance.

‘You could always join in Charlotte’s PT sessions with me,’ Megan said, looking over at me nervously. She was sweet. And brave.

‘Are you kidding?’ Kate scoffed. ‘This body hasn’t exercised since 1994! I dread to think what would happen if I lifted more than a glass of champers.’ We giggled but I knew there was something off.

Changing the subject, I turned my attention to Megan. ‘Do you think you’d want to meet someone else? In time, I mean.’ I’d assumed she’d want to but hadn’t considered the possibility that Mike had put her off men for good.

‘I don’t know. I’m still processing what’s happened so it’s hard to think about it at the moment. I’d like to think I’ll meet someone who treats me right. I always liked the idea of being married.’

Kate snorted. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

I shot her a glance.

‘Oh come on. Who likes being married?’

‘James is a wonderful man,’ I said. I was surprised by what she’d asked.

‘That doesn’t answer the question.’

‘Of course I like being married,’ I said for clarity.

‘And I didn’t get the chance, but I wanted to.’ Megan shrugged.

‘Are you saying you’re unhappy with Carl?’ I asked, feeling we were getting to the bottom of her issue.

‘I’m just saying, things can fizzle out a little.’ She drained her glass. ‘I’m going to the bar.’ She stalked off.

‘Well, that was odd,’ I said to Megan.

‘All marriages have those phases, I imagine,’ Megan said. Mine hadn’t, but I kept that to myself.

‘I suppose. So, doesn’t anyone in here take your fancy?’ I asked, changing the subject.

She cast her eye around the room at the many carbon copies of intrusive-dancer-bloke from earlier. ‘Hmm, not really. I suppose I’m awaiting my very own Tom Hardy.’

‘Tom Hardy? Really?’ I giggled. I think it was the wine as girly chat was never my forte.

‘Well, who would you be holding out for? If there was no James.’

It had been a long time since someone had caught my eye. I thought for a moment, flicking through a mental database of stereotypically handsome gentlemen who would seem acceptable: Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, George Clooney, and so on. I could only think of James – nobody else came close. ‘Paul Newman,’ I blurted out eventually before adding, ‘in his time.’

Megan pulled a face to say it was an acceptable answer just as Kate returned with three mojitos.

‘Sorry that took a while – the barman had all the gusto of a sedated sloth! Anyway, what was that about Paul Newman?’ she asked, handing out the drinks. Apparently she’d cooled off.

‘He’s Charlotte’s dream bloke,’ Megan answered on my behalf. Kate scrunched her nose.

‘Well, who would you pick then?’ I asked.

‘Well George C, obviously. Though there’s something about Jack Nicholson,’ she mused.

‘I get that,’ I said.

‘I’d go with Leonardo DiCaprio,’ Megan said. ‘He’s basically a younger version.’ She giggled.

‘Oh, dear girl, you’ll realise one day. The mature ones are the best ones,’ Kate said.

‘I’ve literally no idea what she’s on about,’ I whispered to Megan. I really didn’t – Carl was two years her junior. Her ex-husband, however, was a much older man.

‘Carl doesn’t notice me any more,’ Kate said suddenly.

‘What do you mean?’ I asked, opting for a more sympathetic tone this time.

‘I don’t know. His face used to light up when he came in from work and he’d wrap me up in those big burly arms and kiss me like it had been an eternity since we’d last embraced . . .’ She smiled, wrapping her arms around herself.

‘You’ve read too many romance books! And those things don’t last for ever, Kate. Life happens and we have to get on with that too. Is this what your downer on marriage and younger men has been about?’ She could be so petulant at times.

‘Maybe. I don’t know. Carl just comes in from work, asks about dinner, then slobs out in front of the television. Henry used to twirl me around and whisk me off at the drop of a hat; he made me feel like I was a princess.’

‘You and a string of other women,’ I countered. ‘Something has to be said about fidelity.’

‘I know.’ She shrugged. ‘I just wish Carl was more like James – he’s so attentive.’

‘James isn’t very attentive at the moment, though, is he? Work has possessed him,’ I said. ‘Maybe you should take a little of your own advice and get some saucy undies to spice things up a bit.’ I sipped my mojito to avoid looking smug.

‘All my undies are saucy!’ Kate retorted, causing Megan to splutter into her own mojito.

***

The next morning, I awoke alone in bed feeling dehydrated and tired, both of which reminded me why I usually drank in moderation. Binge-drinking was so late Nineties it should be considered a retro activity, or shelved under ‘never again’. A glass of water sat on the bedside table; James must have fetched it for me before he went downstairs – he really is attentive. I drank the whole glass and checked the time. It was just approaching 10 a.m.

The smell of sweet pastry roused me, and I trudged downstairs, snuggled up in my UGG dressing gown – the perfect attire for a chilly spring morning. James was in the kitchen, baking. ‘Mmm, those smell good,’ I said as I walked up, wrapping my arms around his neck. He picked his phone up off the counter and stuffed it into his pocket before turning to face me. At least he could push work aside for me sometimes.

‘I thought you might be in need of something stodgy after your night out.’ He kissed me on the forehead.

‘I don’t know why I do it. I blame Kate.’ I took a delicious bite of a hot pain au chocolat. ‘These are almost as good as mine!’

‘Careful, my baking is already a rarity.’

‘True.’ It seemed a while since we’d spoken like this, like we used to, so I thought I’d jump on the opportunity to suggest doing something nice together. ‘How about a walk today? We could go to that woodland path we’ve talked about.’

‘I’m sorry, darling. I’m still swallowed up by this case. It won’t be for much longer now.’

I drew a deep breath to remind myself to keep calm. His work paid for our wonderful lifestyle after all, and the case would soon be over. Instead of giving a reply, I simply smiled and went to sit and eat in the orangery. Looking out over the garden always gave me a sense of calm.

After breakfast, I loaded up my laptop. Talking to Megan the night before had given me an idea. She’d mentioned wanting to meet someone when the time was right and I thought I could help that along a little by setting her up with an online dating profile. That way, when she was ready, I’d already have some options lined up.

I scoured her Facebook page for a suitable photograph. There was dressed-up ball-ready Megan, sporty workwear Megan, Halloween Megan, old baby pic Megan . . . All that was missing was ginger Megan and we’d have had the full Spice Girls set. I opted for the ball picture then at the last minute changed it for the one of her in sportswear. It was a nice Sweaty Betty yoga set that I’d bought her for Christmas the previous year. She had a minimal amount of make-up on as usual and looked gorgeous, and her hair was tied back neatly. It suggested effortless beauty.

The ‘Me & You’ website was very easy to use, and once Megan’s picture was loaded in, there were just some tick boxes and a few paragraphs to write. Her interests were pretty similar to mine on a general level so I ticked everything I would have.

✓ Sports

✓ Socialising

✓ Bars

✓ Walking

✓ Film

✓ Music

✓ Dining out

The next section asked about personal preferences. I had no idea, but Mike wasn’t particularly attractive and she’d always seemed to like James so I just ticked anything that was relevant to him:

✓ Brown hair

✓ 6'0" or above

✓ Medium build

✓ Similar interests

Next, I had to fill in a paragraph about ‘myself’, or in this case, Megan. For a moment, I considered how hard this would be to write about yourself and felt glad I’d never had to do my own profile. Internet dating was a new concept to me. When I’d met James, people used it to look up information and that was it really. There wasn’t any online dating.

I waffled on about being a personal trainer and liking to stay in shape, which was really a huge euphemism for ‘hot body and active in the bedroom’ wasn’t it? Did men want anything more than that? I didn’t think so. The final thing to do was set the distance. I tapped at the keys, having no idea how far Megan would travel for love. Deciding local would be best I set it to within three miles.

Once I was finished, I scanned the page over and clicked ‘save profile’. I was convinced that when Megan was ready to start dating men, there’d be a bank of interested parties to choose from. I closed my laptop, feeling pretty smug with myself.

The walk-in wardrobe was thick with James’s aftershave. The unmistakable fresh scent of his Creed Aventus lingered heavily in the air. It was my favourite, though why he was wasting the expensive stuff on a trip to an empty office for a few hours was beyond me. Still, little else compared that delicious scent so I sort of understood. Part of my attraction to him was that he took pride in himself.

My phone buzzed as I walked out of my wardrobe, finally dressed.

Sorry I’ve not been around much lately. How about a date night? Love U, J x

My heart leapt. It had been far too long. My fingers were tapping back before I’d even thought about a reply.

I’d love to. What did you have in mind? X

I hit send and my chest came over all fluttery while I planned what I’d wear.

We could go out for dinner . . . or you could show me that sexy little number again ;) x

A smile spread across my face. At least I didn’t have to worry about what to wear.