Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 1
Pru was getting hassle from her spaghetti. It was playing her up. Twirling away valiantly, willing the stuff to stay on her fork, she wondered enviously what it must be like to be Liza, who seldom bothered to even glance down at her plate, yet whose spaghetti miraculously stayed put.
It was New Year’s Eve, four o’clock in the afternoon and already dark outside. In Liza Lawson’s Provencal-style kitchen, around the scrubbed pine kitchen table, sat Dulcie, Liza and Pru, lining their stomachs in preparation for the long night ahead.
Far too impatient to bother with Le Twirl, Dulcie had used the edge of her fork as a knife and hacked her spaghetti to bits. It might not be the done thing but it was efficient; her stomach was no longer empty and her plate was clear. Anyway, if you couldn’t do the undone thing in Liza’s kitchen, amongst friends, where could you do it?
Having finished eating, Dulcie pulled a battered exercise book from her bag. ‘Look what my mother found the other week during a clear-out.’ She held it up for them to see. Emblazoned across the cover, in loopy, eighties-style lettering, were the words PRIVATE, KEEP OUT and TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSTITUTED.
‘My little joke,’ Dulcie said fondly. ‘I was fifteen. Imagine.’ Resting her chin on the cupped palm of her hand, Liza grinned.
‘I was never fifteen.’
‘I spent ten years being fifteen,’ said Pru with feeling. When everyone else had graduated to tights, her domineering mother had refused to let her wear them. Pru’s recurring nightmare had involved walking up the aisle in white knee socks.
‘We were all fifteen,’ Dulcie reminded them, ‘and all at the same time. This is the whole point of having friends of your own age,’ she explained with exaggerated patience, ‘so you can share your experiences. Like when you had a crush on Simon Le Bon, they had one too. When you couldn’t sleep at night for worrying about that huge spot on your chin, at least you knew they were worrying about their spots as well. And when you weren’t sure about one or two of the facts of life, you always had someone to ask who wouldn’t laugh.’
‘I never had spots,’ said Liza.
‘And you both definitely laughed when I asked you about French kissing,’ Pru pointed out. ‘You told me it was to do with French letters and the boy having to wear a condom on his tongue.
Honestly, it’s a wonder I ever kissed anyone after that.’
Dulcie giggled, recalling her lecture on the subject and Pru’s solemn belief in every word.
‘Anyway,’ said Liza, ‘that was donkeys’ years ago.’ Reaching across the table, she filled their glasses with Pouilly-Fume. ‘And this is New Year’s Eve. We’re supposed to be making resolutions.’
‘That’s why I brought the book along.’ Opening it, Dulcie riffled through graffiti-strewn pages.
‘God, school must’ve been boring to make me doodle this much. Ah, here it is.’ Triumphantly she showed them the list. ‘January the first. My New Year’s resolutions are: 1. Buy a black satin shirt (long pointed collar).
2. Snog you-know-who.
3. Do more homework, especially maths.
4. Watch Top of the Pops every week.
5. Keep my room tidy.
6. Buy silver nail polish.
7. Join the Starsky and Hutch fan club.’
‘A black satin shirt with a long collar.’ Liza pulled a face. ‘Yuk.’
‘The ones about doing more homework and keeping my room tidy were in case my mother had a snoop.’
Pru was looking puzzled. ‘Who was you-know-who?’
‘D’you know, I haven’t the foggiest. I’ve been trying to remember. Isn’t it sweet, though?’ said Dulcie happily. ‘When I was fifteen those were my New Year’s resolutions. That was what mattered. Such innocence.’
‘Things are a bit different now,’ Liza mocked. ‘Sixteen years later. We’re ancient.’
‘Go on then.’ Dulcie closed the book. ‘What’s your resolution for this year?’
Liza’s humorous dark-brown eyes flicked from Dulcie to Pru.
‘Oh, I want to get married.’
She spoke with the easy confidence of one who knows all she has to do is take her pick.
‘How about you, Pru?’ asked Dulcie.
Pru took a gulp of wine. She thought of Phil, her husband, and the odd way he had been behaving recently. She hoped nothing was wrong at work.
