enough, several sympathetic glances from the fitting room queue followed them to the front of the shop.
‘She still doesn’t get it. Just because I have a phone with me doesn’t mean I can chat for ages.’
‘It’s your dad, isn’t it?’
Sam nodded, momentarily speechless.
Sophie shrugged. ‘You’ve never exactly had a whispery voice, and there were only a couple of inches of plywood between us.’
‘Cancer, apparently. Liver secondaries.’
‘Oh, God.’ Sophie paled visibly. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s not like we’re close. I haven’t seen him in years.’
Sam couldn’t have been any more matter of fact. This had to be it. First Richard, then her diary, now her father. Everyone knows these things come in threes. Come in threes? Now she was sounding like Gemma.
‘Sam, come on—give yourself a break. Don’t be so bloody stubborn.’
‘Gemma didn’t even tell me she’d called again this morning.’
‘Do you want me to go with you?’
‘I mean, how hard is it to write down a phone message?’
‘Sam?’
‘She must have to take messages at work all the time. If she’s not going to bother, I’d rather she didn’t answer the phone in the first place. Anyway—right—shoes. Where next? What do you think? King’s Road? It’s still only three-thirty. We’ve got plenty of time. Let’s just get a cab. My shout.’
Sophie dragged her into the nearest Starbucks. ‘It’s totally acceptable to be upset. In fact, it’s recommended. And you only have one father.’
‘Actually, I have two. Look, I’ll have a think and take a view. But today you, my friend, need white shoes, and it’s my job not to leave your side until we complete our mission.’
‘So I’ll wear flip-flops. You’re not going to get away with using my wedding or your work as an excuse to hide from the rest of your life—partnership race or no partnership race. What about going tonight?’
Silence. Sam’s face was expressionless, and for a moment Sophie wondered whether she had crossed the invisible unconditional-support-versus-advice friendship divide.
‘I’m seeing EJ.’
‘She’ll understand.’
‘I haven’t seen her for a couple of weeks and I really want to—’
‘You’re right. You should tell her.’
Sam didn’t want to correct Sophie. But she’d only been going to say ‘see a film’. One step at a time.
Sophie had her diary out. ‘Well, Mark and I have a lunch tomorrow, but I could go with you first thing.’
‘Thanks, Soph, but honestly there’s no need. You’ve got quite enough on your plate as it is. And I will go. Soon. I just need a bit of time.’
‘Don’t leave it too long.’
‘He’d better be on his best behaviour.’
‘He’s got cancer.’
‘Which is why I’m going…’
Sophie reached over and gave her a half-hug. Not that it was really reciprocated, but it made her feel better for a start.
A doyenne of denial, Sam gathered her bags and got to her feet. ‘Now, come on. King’s Road or Knightsbridge? Your call.’
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