The following morning was fresh with a soft blue sky. The streets had been washed by the rain but were now dry in the morning sun. As Laura stepped out of her front door, she saw Daniel’s open-topped Mercedes turn at the corner and makes its way down towards the house. She went to the gate and waved as they came closer – Cherry was in the passenger seat.
‘Hello, you two.’
They pulled up outside the house and Daniel gave Cherry a lingering kiss. Then he jumped out, and to Laura’s surprise Cherry swung her legs over and shifted into the driver’s seat.
‘Thanks again for a lovely evening, Laura,’ called Cherry with a smile that didn’t seem to have any of the anxiety she’d displayed the previous evening; then she drove off quickly with a squeal of tyres.
Laura was taken aback. ‘What’s she doing?’
‘Going to work.’
‘But . . . but that’s your car.’
‘I’ve lent it to her today. We were late getting up,’ he explained, ‘and I didn’t want her to get into trouble at work.’ He smiled to himself; now that Cherry had discovered sex properly, she found she loved it, much to his delight.
‘Oh, right.’ Laura, if she admitted it, was a little put out. She’d bought Daniel the car for his twenty-first birthday. It had been a special gift, one that she’d thought about for ages beforehand and chosen carefully.
‘That’s OK, isn’t it?’
‘Of course! How do you know she’s a good driver?’
Daniel laughed. ‘Oh, Mum, don’t worry. I think she’ll be fine. Although that was a bit of a racing start,’ he said, watching as Cherry did another wheel spin as she turned out of the street.
‘Well, it’s nice that you have such a trusting relationship.’
‘Thanks again, Mum, for all the effort you put in last night. Fantastic steak.’
‘My pleasure.’
‘So what did you think?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Do you like her?’
‘Very much.’
‘She was nervous.’
‘I thought as much. No need to be. Long term, this one, is she?’
‘Hope so,’ he said, and made to go inside. ‘Do you fancy a coffee?’
‘Love to but I’ve already got a date. Bit of shopping then meeting Isabella for lunch.’
Daniel kissed Laura on the cheek. ‘Sounds good. Send her my best.’
‘I will.’ She waved to Daniel as he closed the door and then set off in the direction of the main junction, where she’d pick up a cab to take her to the King’s Road.
‘Love it,’ said Isabella. ‘It’ll do very nicely for an office meeting.’
Laura lowered the striped shirt.
‘I’m sorry, darling. It’s nice, it truly is, but where has all the fun gone?’
‘It is fun.’
Isabella pulled a face.
‘OK, this is fun,’ said Laura, plucking at her blue sleeveless dress.
‘Yes . . .’ said Isabella unconvincingly, looking kittenish in an emerald halterneck that set off her glossy red hair, ‘but what I mean is, when was the last time you bought something for a social occasion?’
Laura was silent. They’d come to their favourite restaurant, a small, select French place just off the King’s Road. They’d been coming for years and the waiters knew their preferred table and which special of the day they’d most likely enjoy. Secrets had been exchanged here, promises sworn on and confessions frequently applauded. They had been friends for twenty-five years and told each other everything.
‘You see?’ she said, waggling a finger.
‘Howard and I don’t go out anymore.’
Isabella put her hand on Laura’s. ‘No, well, he’s too busy with that trollop. Why do you put up with it?’
Laura folded her shirt and put it back in the stiff designer bag, not answering immediately.
‘Divorce him.’
‘No. Anyway, it’s what he’d want.’
Isabella sighed, knowing the conversation had been had many times before. ‘What else, then?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Other evening entertainment.’
Laura was aware she didn’t really have any. ‘Bridge night?’
‘Doesn’t count.’
‘By the time I’ve finished work, I’m exhausted. Friday night I just want to stay in.’
‘Well, there’s a reason to give it all up.’ Isabella couldn’t quite understand why she did work – it wasn’t for the money – but Laura loved what she did. It gave her a sense of identity and achievement, the fact she was successful in such a competitive, cut-throat industry. And most of all, it was hers. Her company had been a friend to her when Daniel was away studying and Howard was playing golf. She couldn’t think of giving it up.
She smiled at Isabella. ‘I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.’
‘Oh, trust me, darling, you soon would.’ She leaned forward mischievously. ‘Anyway, don’t you miss it?’
Laura laughed, but Isabella was not to be put off and waited for her answer.
‘Oh, I don’t know . . . I suppose so.’
‘I know the perfect man. I’ll set you up. Nothing too much – you can come to dinner, there’ll be a group of us, and I’ll sit him next to you.’
‘Who is it?’
‘You don’t know him.’
The thought of small talk with a stranger was as enticing as a visit to the dentist to Laura. ‘No, thanks. Anyway, that would just make me as bad as Howard.’
‘Oh, come on.’
‘No, honestly. Anyway,’ she said tantalizingly, ‘it’s not me going for romance at the moment . . .’
Isabella leaned in. ‘Who?’
‘He’s completely smitten. This could even be the real thing . . .’
Izzy clapped her hands in delight. ‘Not Daniel?’
Laura nodded.
‘What! Does this mean our great plans have been thwarted?’
‘Completely blown away.’ Their children had played together ever since they were babies. Brigitte and Daniel had waved rattles at each other as they lay on blankets while she and Isabella had attended whatever postnatal class, playgroup or personal training session they were up to that week. They had always joked their children would marry.
‘We met her last night,’ said Laura.
‘What’s her name?’
‘Cherry.’
‘Is that her real name?’
‘Less of the sarcasm. She’s very nice.’
‘Does she work?’
‘She’s an estate agent. In training.’
‘Right.’
‘We all have to train, Izzy.’
‘Of course.’
Laura laughed. ‘You’re not really upset that our machinations came to nothing, are you? Brigitte will find a very fine man.’
Isabella sighed and brushed this away. ‘I know. So tell me more. Where does . . . Cherry come from?’
‘She lives in Tooting.’
‘Tooting?’
Laura heard the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. ‘Isabella Rudd, you are such a snob. I’ve heard it’s got lots of great Indian restaurants.’
‘Darling, so has Goa. And I’d rather go there. So how long have they been dating?’
‘A week.’