am I going to do about Angus?’
‘Psychic, you!’
She smiled. ‘I thought he might come up sooner or later.’
‘I thought he already did.’
‘Have you got a soft spot for him?’
‘No.’
‘Lying cow.’
‘Fuck off!’
‘Well, to set your mind at rest – although, if you will let me be so bold, if you would dump Mr Trevelyan and go out with the dumpy yet delightful Mr McConnald I would be the happiest best friend alive – he phoned me to apologize.’
‘To apologize? Why?’
‘Because he wasn’t going to phone me. To which I said it was quite all right, I didn’t mind a bit.’
‘No, no, hang on. I don’t understand. He phoned you to say he wasn’t going to phone you?’
‘Yes. So if I was hanging around the phone, I could stop and get on with my life. Which of course I wasn’t. So we had a nice little chat and said our goodbyes. An extremely civilized end to a one-night stand, I have to say.’
‘That is too weird. I don’t know whether it’s extremely polite or a damning indictment of today’s decadent society.’
Fran checked her make-up in the mirror and I joined her, still wondering.
‘What are you going to do now?’ she asked.
I winced. ‘Oh God. Apologize to Amanda, I suppose. I must be off my head. They’re probably all pissing themselves laughing at me.’
‘The only way you could make those girls laugh would be to tell them Anthea Turner’s put on three stone. Do you want to stay?’
I weighed it up.
‘Did you get it on tape?’
‘If it works, then yes.’
‘Well, I suppose there’s no reason to stay, then.’
‘Not really.’
I thought longingly of the dessert trolley.
‘There’s always pudding,’ said Fran.
I clapped her on the shoulder.
‘Will there always be pudding, Fran?’ I asked gravely.
‘There will always be pudding, Mel. I promise.’
I took a deep breath and walked out there. All the girls were huddled together, obviously talking about us, ignoring their spiky-looking salads. Our main courses were being kept on a hot plate by our faithful waiter.
I walked over and grabbed the back of my chair for support.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said to Amanda, as sincerely as I could.
‘Oof, don’t worry about it for a second,’ she said, waving me to sit down. I smiled gratefully.
‘You’ve been a little naïve, haven’t you, darling? I shouldn’t expect it to stop now, just because we’re supposed to be grown-up!’ She tinkled the patented Amanda laugh. Beside her, I watched Fran bare her teeth.
‘Now! More champers all round! I absolutely insist.’
‘Rah rah rah!’ shouted the other girls, all of one mind. A half-witted one.
The waiter brought main courses for Fran and I, and we tucked in, letting the girls get on with discussing their boyfriends’ cars. Suddenly, there was a near hush in the restaurant. Looking up from my trough, I turned round to see what the matter was. Weaving between the tables was one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever seen in real life. Almost six foot tall, her shiny, pure blonde hair glimmered in the lights. She was dressed in pale, slim-fitting, elegant flowing things, and appeared to float rather than walk. The ratio of her legs to the rest of her body was about 2:1.
‘That’s who I’m going to look like when I’m grown-up,’ I whispered to Fran, who nodded violently. Behind her was a gorgeous, gorgeous bloke, wearing an expensive – but not showy – suit. He looked vaguely familiar.
Amanda stood up, wearing an eager expression I didn’t often see her use.
‘Lili! Darling!’ she screeched in her ladylike fashion. It was the most emphatic ‘darling’ I’d ever heard from her. ‘Over here!’
Lili’s swan-like neck moved a fraction, and she swept her eyes over our measly group. The empty spaces had been taken up by latecomers, noisy City boys showing off. Her eyes passed over me without even looking; I had obviously fallen below some imaginary bar whereby one became actively invisible.
Her white teeth glistened for a second as she bestowed the merest hint of a radiant smile. Amanda, amazingly, was all nerves and practically pleading.
‘You’ve met Jacintha, of course, from Freud’s … Araminta from Carlton … Please, take a seat. I’ll pour you a glass – I see you’ve brought a friend, ha ha.’ I could almost hear her accent crack.
Lili bent down elegantly, her white hands long and tapered. ‘Oh, we can’t stay, we’re off to Philippa’s bash. We just popped in to see everyone’ – her deep voice sounded pointed – ‘and now we’re off.’ She bestowed fifteen alternate kisses on Amanda’s cheeks then turned and floated off in a cloud of rare and precious perfume. The broad shoulders of the man disappeared as he gently guided her elbow across the floor.
I stifled a sudden terrible urge to giggle. Well, just when you thought you were pretty far down in the food chain, you discovered a whole new layer you’d never even dreamt of.
‘Who the hell was that?’ demanded Fran, chewing the last of her lamb.
‘Oh, isn’t she great?’ said Amanda, her eyes wide.
‘Well, from that in-depth and emotional meeting, I’d say she’s a bit of a stuck-up cow, actually.’
Amazingly, one of the blondies – I think it was Mookie – giggled independently, then blushed bright red and stared at her carpaccio.
Amanda sniffed. ‘Well, you would say that about one of the most important fashion people in London. And she came to my hen night.’
Fran and I looked at each other. ‘She didn’t come to your hen night!’ said Fran in amazement. ‘She did a Red Arrows fly-past of your hen night.’
I kicked her on the ankle. But Amanda seemed unperturbed.
‘Darling, she showed. That’s all that matters.’
Fran looked at me, but I simply shrugged. Nothing Amanda did made any sense to me.
As the main excitement of the evening was
