Page 71 of Who’s That Girl?

‘I’ll come with you,’ I say, pushing back my chair.

‘What is it with women going in pairs to the toilet?’ wonders Julian aloud as we leave the table.

‘So we can talk about you, sweetie,’ jokes Vanessa.

At least, I think she’s joking, but when we get into the ladies and I thank her once again for my present, she instructs, ‘Just make sure you eat lots of pastries and have lots of sex in Paris. Someone has to.’

‘Oh, come on,’ I protest. ‘I know what you and Julian are up to.’ Nudging her in the ribs, I smile knowingly, thinking of the contents of Julian’s shopping basket.

‘Up to?’ she huffs derisively. ‘I don’t have the energy to be up to anything. I’m exhausted. The only thing we’re up to is arguing over who’s going to get up and see to Sam when he wakes up crying for the third time in the middle of the night.’

‘But I thought …’ I trail off as I flash back to yesterday. Now I think about it, Julian did seem kind of jumpy. Nervous, almost. As if he didn’t want me to see him. My mind cuts back to Vanessa’s comment about him having an affair with his secretary.

‘Thought what?’ asks Vanessa, and I see her looking at me quizzically.

‘Oh … um … you looked closer, that’s all.’ Quickly I scrub that image from my mind. I’m being totally ridiculous, just like Vanessa was.

‘I don’t think so.’ She smiles wanly. ‘I’ve barely seen him this week. He’s always at work. It’s almost like we’re two strangers, like we don’t know each other any more,’ she finishes, her shoulders slumping defeatedly.

God, I hate to see Vanessa looking so sad.

‘I know what you need,’ I say cheerfully, changing the subject.

‘A new husband?’ She smiles ruefully.

‘No, silly, a new lip gloss,’ I chivvy, digging a handful out of my handbag.

Vanessa’s eyes light up. Since having Sam, she seems to have stopped wearing make-up. She says it takes too long to apply. It’s the same with her hair. Instead of blow-drying it straight, she now ties it up in a knot. ‘Ooh, where did you get this?’ she says, pulling off the top.

‘One of the perks of working in PR.’

‘By the way, I meant to say …’ She pauses to wand her bottom lip. ‘Isn’t that the barman we saw in the shop?’

At the mention of him all the cells in my body jerk to attention. It catches me by surprise. Why is it that someone so annoying can have this effect on me? ‘Unfortunately.’ I grimace, quickly brushing the thought away.

‘Mmm.’ Pressing her lips together, Vanessa smiles wickedly. ‘I wonder what he’s offering for dessert.’

‘Whatever it is, maybe we can share?’ I quip, and then laugh as she punches me playfully on the arm.

Five minutes later and a newly lip-glossed Vanessa and I make our way back to the table.

‘Ah! Just in time,’ says Julian as we reappear.

‘For what?’ I ask, glancing around.

‘Champagne!’ announces Miles as the barman appears with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and four champagne flutes and sets them down on the table.

‘Ooh, is this the bit where we start singing “Happy Birthday” really loudly and embarrass Charlotte in front of everyone?’ grins Vanessa.

‘No, it’s not,’ replies Miles, shooting her a look.

‘Spoilsport.’

Next to me, the barman is deftly easing the cork from the neck of the bottle, and as he starts pouring the champagne, I notice a small tattoo etched on the underside of his wrist. I stare at it for a moment, trying to make it out.

‘It’s a frog.’

I snatch my eyes away, only to meet those of the barman staring at me, staring at him. ‘Oh, right.’ I nod, feeling a hot flash of embarrassment.