God, had I really just said that out loud?
Alice smiled. ‘Sounds like love to me.’
I frowned. ‘But he’s got no idea that I like him. I’ve never so much as hinted because I’m terrified he’ll run a mile.’
‘But what if he doesn’t, Zoë? What if he feels the same but is paralysed by the same fears? Your friendship means a lot to both of you, but sometimes in life you just have to take a leap of faith.’
‘I feel like I’ve got myself into such a mess, though.’
‘What’s happened?’
I found myself giving Alice a rundown of Nick’s request to get close to Jess on behalf of Marcie, and how I’d lied to Simon about Nick’s identity.
‘The problem is, Nick wants me to organise another dinner. I hated lying to Simon and I can’t bear to do it again.’
Alice took a sip of her tea. ‘Nick is holding you to ransom over this?’
I nodded. ‘Although God knows what other hoops he’ll make me jump through next.’
‘Well, I can’t vouch for Nick, but it’s obvious that Simon genuinely cares for you. He’d understand that you had no choice. I think you should just come clean.’
‘And admit I lied?’
‘I’m sure he’ll understand.’
‘You make it sound so simple.’
‘Often the simplest solutions are the ones we forget to consider.’
*
Alice was right. Why hadn’t I seen it myself? Of course Simon would understand. As I walked back to my office I rang him.
He picked up after the third ring. ‘And how is the lovely Frixiepants this morning?’
‘I’m great, Si. How are you?’
‘Excited as a puppy. I’ve been googling fancy-dress shops.’
I laughed. ‘I had no idea you had such a dramatic streak.’
‘We need to get our costumes sorted early, or they’ll only have crappy ones left. The last fancy-dress party I went to I had to go as a court jester. No one looks good in yellow and red stripes, Zoë. And my hat had fucking bells on.’
I laughed. ‘Well, we’d better get organised, then.’
‘Glad you agree. Meet me outside Covent Garden tube at six o’clock,’ he said. ‘I’ll take you on a magical mystery tour of London’s best fancy-dress hire shop.’
Our jaunt to the fancy-dress shop could not have been more different from that morning’s antiseptic expedition for bridal wear.
First of all, they were playing Pearl Jam when we entered the shop. I loved Eddie Vedder more than was healthy, but his was not the voice to serenade you while you rifled through a technicolour display of sparkly costumes. Someone here had a sense of humour, as well as excellent taste in music.
‘Where did you seePJTwenty?’ said Simon. He didn’t need to askifI’d seen the film made for Pearl Jam’s twentieth anniversary.
‘Westfield. You?’
‘I went to Seattle especially,’ he said proudly.
‘You lucky sod.’
