‘OK, but call me later?’
‘I will. Oh God! I didn’t ask you how your evening went!’
Colette gave a melodic laugh. ‘It was wonderful. Unlike you, I didn’t fall into bed with him though, so he’s taking me to dinner tonight.’
‘Ha ha, but good. You seemed pretty interested.’
‘I really like him.’ Her voice was serious for a moment. ‘We sat talking until half past three this morning. He’s… well, I’m not going to count my chickens but yes, I like him.’
Colette had been burned badly once before which had ended the marriage she’d truly thought would last forever. It had taken a long time for her to put herself out there again and this was the first time I’d heard her take anyone remotely seriously. I remembered Finn’s reassurance that Greg was a good bloke and hoped he was right. The thought of Finn’s voice kicked off a whole bunch of other memories that liquified my stomach and sent flashes of heat to places they had no business being this early on a Saturday morning stood at the entrance to the Tube.
‘Got to go, Col. I’ll ring you later.’
‘OK. Love you.’
‘Love you too.’
‘So?’ It was Sunday afternoon and Colette and I were huddled in a coffee shop in Finsbury Park.
‘So, what?’
‘Are you seeing him again?’
‘Who?’
She peered at me with a steady look over the rim of her swimming pool-sized hot chocolate.
‘No. I’m not.’
‘Why not? You obviously like him. And hedefinitelylikes you.’
‘It was a mistake. Ahugemistake.’
‘Huge, eh?’ Colette grinned wickedly and I shot her a glare.
‘Not like that.’
‘Oh, really? Well, that’s disappointing.’
‘What?’
She made a gesture with her little finger.
‘No!’ I said, grabbing her hand and shoving it down out of sight whilst simultaneously subtly scanning the place to see if anyone had noticed. ‘It was…’ Colette raised her brows in anticipation of my reply. ‘More than adequate.’ She shook her head, laughed and returned to her cake. My friend had the ability to maintain her slim figure with apparently little effort. She swore by the French ‘magic soup’ method of detox. I tried this once and couldn’t even get a cupful down. How anyone could claim it was delicious was a clear misrepresentation. I’d swallowed some of the ‘soup’ (also known as leek water), gagged and bunged the leeks in a pan with potatoes and cream and made something edible instead. Fair enough, it didn’t have the same bloat reduction properties as the original claimed but it was bloody delicious. And I certainly didn’t have to worry about calories this weekend. I must have burned about ten thousand on Friday night.Oh God, what had I been thinking?
‘Ooh, it was obviously way more than adequate. You’re blushing!’
‘I am not blushing. Don’t be so ridiculous. It’s warm in here.’ I made a point of pulling a book out of my bag and fanning myself with it.
She gave me a look that I knew of old. She wasn’t going to argue with me but there would be no convincing her she was wrong, so I didn’t bother. And, on this occasion, she was right.
‘So why aren’t you seeing him again?’
‘Because I’m not looking for anyone and I’m certainly not looking for someone who picks up women in bars for one night stands.’
‘He might think it was you who picked him up?’
‘It wasn’t! I don’t do things like that. I’d had way too much to drink. Why didn’t you stop me?’
