“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; then she 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?” Isabella asked.
“It is fun.”
Isabella pulled a face.
“Okay,thisis fun,” said Laura, plucking at her blue sleeveless dress.
“Yes . . . ,” said Isabella, unconvincingly, looking kittenish in an emerald halter neck 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 favorite 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, that’s just 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.”
