I say. Sam’s face goes all airy as she cottons on immediately. I make big warning eyes at her not to let on that I’ve mentioned him and luckily our telepathic powers connect in an instant.
‘Oh, how lovely to meet you.’ She extends her hand without so much as a glimmer of knowing.
‘Shall I get some drinks while you two find seats?’ Tom offers, sounding like the perfect gentleman.
‘Thank you,’ I say. And without hesitation, Sam and I nod at each other before heading off.
‘Ohmigod Georgie, he’s hot, hot and more hot.’ Sam clutches my arm. ‘Bloody hell, I can see what you mean,’ she squeals, performing a little skip the minute Tom is out of earshot. ‘He looks like he’s just stepped out of a Hollywood movie.’
‘I know, but I can’t believe it. Why didn’t you tell me Nathan knew him?’
‘I didn’t know. I’ve not heard him mention him before, but I can get the lowdown on him now,’ Sam says, triumphantly.
‘No! Yes! Oh I don’t know. He’s way out of my league.’
‘No he’s not. Yes he’s bloody gorgeous, but no man is out of your league, do you hear me?’ Sam hisses, pretending to be cross.
‘I hear you. But be discreet. Just find out if he’s attached … a girl can dream after all, can’t she?’
Finding a Moroccan mini-sofa thing, Sam sits and I carefully perform a small Houdini contortion act to get down low enough to sit next to her. As I wriggle around trying to get comfortable, the miracle suit presses on my bladder, so I have no option but to haul myself into a standing position to go in search of the Ladies.
‘Where are you off to? They’re going to be back soon.’ Sam clutches my arm.
‘Sam, it’s no good, I’m busting for the loo,’ I groan.
‘I’ll come with you, I could do with a lippy touch-up,’ she replies, even though her cerise gloss is still immaculate. ‘Let’s wait for them and then we’ll go.’ She smiles.
‘I’m not sure I can.’ Wincing, I lean forward and put the bottle down on a low table. Sam has the same idea and leans over too. The sudden shift in the weight on the cushion propels me forward and I’m launched mercilessly onto the little dance floor. The drink flies out of my hand, shoots up and splatters all over my face. I attempt to get up but just can’t bend enough. The floor is really slippery so I end up writhing around like an amateur contortionist. I try again to scrabble up onto my feet.
Sam meanwhile has managed to get up and is now bent over in hysterics as she tries to pull me up. Her laughter is infectious, which just makes it worse as I beg her to stop. Within seconds, one of the models appears. He’s towering over me with a look of utter disgust on his pinched face.
‘Would you like some assistance?’ he drawls in an effeminate Aussie voice that completely belies his physical appearance. Feeling mortified, I shoo him away and manage to control myself a bit, but then start panicking. Tom is going to come back any second.
‘This is all your fault, plying me with cocktails. Get me up before I pee all over the place,’ I bellow over the music in Sam’s direction. I reach up to grab Sam’s hand and instantly feel like dying. Tom is standing right behind her. A quizzical grin smoulders across his chiselled face, and tucked in the crook of his beautiful elbow is an ice bucket. Four glasses are clutched in his left hand, and I wish I could just crawl away and evaporate somewhere quietly. It’s Nathan who moves forward from behind Tom, Sam, and the small crowd that’s now gathered around me. Bending down he scoops me up into a fireman’s lift over his shoulder and carries me over to the Ladies. I can see everybody staring and I feel hot with embarrassment.
‘There you go.’ Nathan lets me down.
‘Oh my God. Are you OK?’ Sam says. Her face is covered in concern as she elbows her way through from behind Nathan’s broad back. We push through the chrome door into the Ladies. ‘What’s that on your back?’ Sam asks worriedly, as she spins me around to inspect the bulge.
‘The bloody suit; the poppers have ripped off.’
‘Thank God it’s only that,’ she breathes. ‘For a moment I thought you’d broken something or an organ had popped out even,’ she says, dramatically. ‘Here.’ She rifles in her gold clutch and pulls out a massive safety pin. ‘For emergency purposes. It’ll have to do,’ she adds, after I look back at her with horror. Quickly realising that she’s right, I rush into a cubicle and sort myself out.
Back out by the washbasins, I survey the damage. Mostly superficial, fortunately, despite my impromptu shimmy across the dance floor. With a wet hand towel, I dab the mascara lines away and then reapply some face powder, carefully blending as I go. Another coat of mascara and fresh lipstick and I’m ready. I take a deep breath, push my hair behind my ears and turn to Sam.
‘Come here,’ she says kindly, and I step forward. She puts her arms around me. ‘Will you be OK?’
‘I think so. Did you see the look on his face?’ I reply, cringing at the memory.
‘Yes, but you just hold your head up high and work it, baby. He’s reeeem,’ she says in her TOWIE accent to make me smile. ‘Go grab him.’
‘Hardly, after that pantomime performance.’
‘Oh so what.’ Sam shakes her hair back. ‘Men love a girl with a sense of humour, so just laugh it off. You look a billion dollars.’
‘Thanks, Sam. You’re a true friend, do you know that?’ I say, perking up and giving her a quick hug.
‘Well, I do my best. When I haven’t got my foot in my mouth of course,’ she grins, and then adds, ‘Georgie, look I’m really sorry about the other day, your dad and all. I didn’t mean to hurt you.’
‘I know you didn’t,’ I say, patting her arm. ‘It’s forgotten,’ I finish, magnanimously, glad that we’ve cleared the air.
‘Actually, I was wondering …’ She peers at me.
‘What is it?’
‘Err, I just wondered whether you’d spoken to him recently?’ she adds, nervously. I hesitate for a second.
‘Strange you should ask, because I slipped up and answered the phone …’ I reply, feeling uncomfortable. Sam gives me a look as though she’s unsure whether to say anything else. ‘Tell me?’ I prompt.
‘Oh nothing, I …’
‘Come on, please just say it.’
‘If you’re sure?’ she says warily.
‘Yes I’m sure. Now will you please just get on with it?’ I smile encouragingly.
‘Well, I was just thinking that it’s such a shame that you two can’t sort things out. Alfie means the world to me, he’s all I have, and I couldn’t bear it if he and I fell out,’ she says, sounding panicky. She looks away.
‘It’s OK, you’ve got me too, and Nathan … he seems really smitten, maybe he really is your “one”,’ I
