much help?’
After a moment’s thought, Charlotte named what she considered a reasonable sum.
‘Well, if you think we could get along, your problem is solved. I’ll pay my share of the rent up front, I promise I won’t hog the bathroom or the kitchen—I’m not into cooking—and I’ll keep myself to myself as much as possible.’
Coming to a swift decision, Charlotte said, ‘That sounds fine by me.’
‘Great! By the way, my name’s Sojourner Macfadyen. But don’t call me Sojourner, or I’m afraid I’ll have to murder you.’
Smiling, Charlotte asked, ‘What shall I call you?’
‘Sojo will do fine.’
‘When do you want to move in, Sojo?’
‘The day after tomorrow?’
At Charlotte’s nod, she had added, ‘I think it’ll work, but in case it doesn’t…?’
‘Shall we say a month’s notice on either side?’ Charlotte had suggested.
It had worked well, however, and the two girls had become firm friends. Even when the shop began to make a small profit and Charlotte could afford to pay an assistant, Sojo had stayed on.
On more than one occasion, she had remarked, ‘When you’re ready for me to move out, just say the word.’
But, knowing she would miss the other girl’s company and lively sense of humour, Charlotte had been only too happy with the way things were…
‘Who is your date, by the way?’ Sojo pursued. Then, her voice sinking to a sibilant whisper, ‘Is it still the mystery man?’
Endeavouring to look the picture of innocence, Charlotte said, ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I mean the one you’ve been so cagey about.’
‘I’ve been nothing of the kind,’ Charlotte denied.
‘Oh, give me strength! For days now you’ve had stars in your eyes, and I’ll swear your feet have scarcely touched the ground, but you’ve never breathed a word about him… I presume it is a him?’
‘Of course it’s a him!’ Charlotte said indignantly.
‘Well, come on, spill the beans. Tell all.’
‘There’s not much to tell.’
‘Rubbish! You have the look of a woman who’s on the brink of falling in love. I want to know whether to hold you back, or give you a push.’
‘Do you need to do either?’
‘Of course. What are friends for? So what’s his name? Paul? David? Jeremy?’
Throwing in the towel, Charlotte said, ‘Rudolf.’
Sojo gave a croak of laughter. ‘Bit of a soppy name, Rudolf—’ she pronounced it Wudolf ‘—unless you’re a reindeer.’
‘His friends call him Rudy.’
‘Well, they would, wouldn’t they? Anything’s preferable to Wudolf. What’s he like?’
‘Rather special. He’s—’
‘You’re blushing!’ Sojo exclaimed. ‘Dear me, you have got it bad.’
‘Do you want to know or not?’ Charlotte asked with a show of exasperation.
‘I’m all ears… What an unfortunate phrase! But do go on.’
‘He’s slimly built and just about the same height as I am—’
‘I wondered why you’d taken to wearing flat shoes. Fair or dark?’
‘He has curly black hair and brown eyes.’
‘Handsome?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sexy?’
‘Very.’
‘Rich?’
‘He dresses well, and has what he describes as a ‘‘bachelor pad’’ in Mayfair.’
‘Definitely not poor, then. Been to his pad?’
‘No.’
‘I take it he’s asked you? Yes, I can see he has. What does he do?’
‘I discovered, quite by accident, that he’s with one of the leading merchant banks.’
Sojo whistled through her teeth. ‘He’s not one of their top men, by any chance?’
‘I don’t think so. But to say he’s only twenty-six, he seems to be fairly high up the ladder.’
‘So what’s his surname?’
‘Bradshaw. He’s only been in England for about three years. He comes from the States.’
‘How did you meet him?’
‘He wandered into the shop one morning, a few weeks ago, just to browse. We got talking, and then he asked me out.’
‘A quick worker. Been to bed with him yet?’
‘Certainly not!’
‘Want to?’ Sojo asked knowingly.
‘Yes,’ Charlotte admitted.
‘So why haven’t you? Don’t tell me he hasn’t tried to persuade you.’
‘I won’t.’
Feeling her cheeks grow warm again, Charlotte gave the other girl a forbidding enough look to prevent her commenting.
‘Well, if you both fancy each other like mad, why are you holding back?’
‘It’s too soon. Even if I am attracted to him, I can’t jump into bed with a man I scarcely know.’
Sojo sighed. ‘You’re so beautifully old-fashioned. I’m not sure you live in the real world. If you’re not careful you’ll end up a desiccated virgin.’
‘But we’ve only been out four or five times.’
‘Is that all? I’m surprised he doesn’t want to see more of you.’
‘He does,’ Charlotte admitted. ‘But he isn’t free as often as he’d like to be. In his line of work it seems social contacts are very important, and a lot of his evenings are taken up by business commitments—dining out with clients and suchlike. It was touch and go whether he could get
