Page 23 of Who’s That Girl?

I’m sitting here in the kitchen, sipping my tea and trying to remain very cool, but my jaw is nearly on the floor. For the last year I’ve been reassuring myself that all couples in their thirties are like Miles and me, having grown-up, comfortable sex in bed on a Saturday night, with the odd scented candle and some massage oil if I remember.

But now this discovery that my best friend – i.e. other people my age – were ‘getting in quickies’ on a daily basis before their kids came along is a bit worrying. Especially as recently I’ve been consoling myself that it doesn’t matter if me and Miles don’t have this incredibly passionate sex life, because once you’re married, you stop having sex anyway.

‘Well, you know, it’s like they say, “It’s quality, not quantity.” And Miles and I have really good-quality sex.’ I realise I’m sounding a tad defensive.

‘I’m glad someone is,’ she quips, pulling out a stash of colouring books and felt-tip pens for Ruby, while jigging Sam on her hip.

‘Do you want me to do anything?’

‘No, no, I’m fine.’ She smiles, stuffing loose strands of hair into her ponytail. For the first time I notice she’s got roots, which is so not Vanessa. ‘What about another cup of tea?’ I offer.

‘Actually, I might have a glass of Pinot Grigio and sit in the garden,’ she says conspiratorially. ‘Fancy one?’

About to say yes, I suddenly remember I have to go back to the office before I can go home and change my mind. Maybe alcohol isn’t a good idea. Plus I’m driving. ‘Better not.’ I shake my head. ‘I’ve been drinking a bit too much wine lately. In fact, I might go on this detox my client Melody keeps recommending.’

‘Another one?’ Vanessa looks at me, agog. ‘But you just did one.’

‘That was ages ago,’ I refute hotly.

‘It was last month. I remember because you came over for dinner but refused to eat anything.’

‘Oh, right, yes. That was the cucumber and cabbage diet,’ I say, remembering.

‘Can you only eat things beginning with C?’ she quips dryly.

‘Ha ha, very funny,’ I retort, but I can’t help smiling. ‘It’s this special juice made of cucumbers and cabbage and cayenne pepper. Melody kept raving about it, and it’s in her new book, so I thought I should try it. And anyway,’ I add, ‘that was a cleanse.’

Vanessa pulls a face. ‘And there’s a difference?’ Glancing at the empty wine rack, she pads over to the fridge.

‘A big difference.’ I nod. ‘I interviewed this nutritionist when I was writing Melody’s press release and she told me that a detox is cutting all the things that are bad for you out of your diet. Like, for example, wine and coffee and sugar.’

Tugging open the door of her huge stainless-steel fridge, Vanessa pulls a face.

‘And a cleanse means not eating at all. Though usually you supplement with juices,’ I add, as an afterthought. Gosh, this is all a bit confusing. ‘Though not orange juice obviously, as that’s full of sugar, but you can do all green vegetables, such as celery, and maybe some broccoli, and aubergine. Actually, no, that’s purple.’

‘Sounds yummy,’ she says sarcastically. Retrieving an opened bottle of white, she pulls out the cork. ‘Though I think I’ll stick with grapes for now. They’re green.’ A few drops trickle out into her wine glass and she tuts. ‘Damn. That was the last bottle.’

‘I can pop out for you if you’d like,’ I offer.

The door bangs and I hear footsteps approaching in the hallway. George, the cocker spaniel, who’s spent the whole time asleep in his basket, suddenly starts wagging his tail.

‘I have a better idea. Why don’t we both pop out?’ she suggests.

‘But what about the—’

I’m about to say ‘children’, but there’s screams of ‘Daddy’ and Julian walks into the kitchen. Tall and handsome with thick, light brown hair and carrying a briefcase, he walks straight over to their chair and high chair and scoops them both up, much to their delight. ‘Why hello, you terrible twosome!’ he whoops, smothering them in kisses and blowing raspberries into their necks.

I watch fondly. Julian is so good with them, and then I catch Vanessa’s face and instead of a glowing smile at this contented picture of a happy family, she’s got a pinched expression.

‘You’re home early.’

Julian stops blowing raspberries to look up at Vanessa. It’s almost like he’s just noticed she’s there. ‘I’m afraid I’m not staying. I just popped back for a fresh shirt. I’ve got to have dinner with a client. Totally last minute.’ He pulls an apologetic face.

‘Well, in that case I’m going out for a few minutes,’ replies Vanessa.

‘Out?’ He frowns.

‘Yes, Charlotte and I are going for a drink.’