‘Look, I’m not as bad as you’re making out. I only took that money because there was an emergency and I desperately needed it. I’m actually a really nice person. Can’t we just forget about all that old stuff?’
I patted your thigh, for God’s sake.
Adele exhaled audibly. ‘None of us was expecting this to happen this evening. I’m grateful for what you did the other night, obviously. But I can’t pretend I’m happy to see you again. Giving you the money was what I needed to do at the time, but I never wanted Doug to find out.’
‘Trust me, neither did I. He overheard me on the phone and I really wish he hadn’t. That’s why I need to talk to him properly, to explain. Don’t worry, I won’t slag you off.’ As Lola said this she saw Adele wince at the turn of phrase, proving as it did how common she was and how wildly unsuitable for someone as well brought up as Doug.
‘Well, let’s just get through the rest of the evening without any more unpleasantness.’ Adele shook her coiffured hair slightly as if dismissing the thought of it from her mind. Cracking a thin pseudo-smile she said, ‘Shall we go through and join the others?’
‘I’ll follow in a minute, when I’ve just, um ...’ Lola pointed to the downstairs loo, dithered over what the polite word for it was, then wondered why she was bothering. ‘After I’ve had a quick wee.’
The cloakroom was small but stylish, all ivory marble and tasteful lighting. A bit too tasteful actually; Lola, touching up her make-up, had to lean right across the sink to get close enough to the mirror to check she didn’t have speckles of mascara on her cheeks.
Lost in thought about Doug and how she might win him over against his better judgement, Lola jumped out of her skin when her phone suddenly rang. Losing her precarious balance and about to topple nose first into the mirror, she put out a hand to stop herself and sent her make-up bag flying off the side of the sink.
‘Noooo!’ Lola let out a shriek of horror as the bag landed with a splosh in the toilet bowl. Not her make-up ... oh God...
It was too late, the contents of her cosmetics bag were already drowned. All her favourite things
– lovely eyeshadows, bronzing powder, eye pencils, her three very best lipsticks – were sitting there submerged in the bottom of the loo. And to add insult to injury her bloody phone was still ringing.
‘Gabe, I know you’re trying to help, but NOT NOW!’ Switching the phone off again, Lola surveyed the scene of devastation and let out a groan of despair. ‘Oh hell ...’
Then she jumped again, because someone was tapping cautiously on the cloakroom door.
‘Hello? Everything OK in there?’ It was a worried female, possibly Sally.
‘It’s all right. I’m fine.’ At the sight of her all-time favourite Urban Decay super-sparkly mocha eyeshadow, Lola could have cried.
‘Lola? Is that you? What’s happened?’
Seeing as it was Sally, Lola unlocked the door.
She didn’t have to say a word.
‘Oh no, poor you! Crikey, no wonder you let out a screech. I had my handbag stolen once.’ Sally squeezed her arm in sympathy. ‘I mean, having to replace my credit cards and stuff was a pain in the neck. But losing my make- up was just traumatic. When I found out my favourite mascara had been discontinued I practically had a nervous breakdown right there in Harvey Nicks.’
Despite everything, Lola grinned. ‘You’re making me feel so much better.’
‘Oh, sorry!’
‘And we can’t leave it in there.’ Bracing herself, Lola bent down and gingerly picked the unzipped make-up bag out of the toilet bowl then dropped it – splat – into the waste bin beneath the sink. ‘Typical that it had to happen before I had a chance to do my mouth.’
‘Well, I can help you there.You want to borrow lipstick? Just come upstairs with me.’
Everything in Sally’s bedroom was yellow and white and super-tidy. Sitting on the king-sized bed and gazing around, Lola said, ‘This is a great room.’
‘It’d be more great if it wasn’t in my mother’s house.’ Sally grimaced. ‘Not that I don’t love her, but it’s hardly ideal, is it? I’m thirty-six. I was living with my boyfriend in Wimbledon until a fortnight ago but we broke up so I moved in here temporarily.’
‘What happened with you and the boyfriend?’
‘Oh God, nightmare. I’m a walking disaster when it comes to men.’ Sally shook her head. ‘I paid for him to have his teeth bleached as a birthday present because that’s what he wanted. Next thing I know, he’s telling me he’s seeing the dental nurse. So that’s it, I’m single again, back with my mother and giving up on men. I’m going to buy myself a dear little cottage somewhere in the country and breed llamas instead. Knit my own socks and grow my own jam. Wouldn’t that be idyllic?’ She paused, holding up a fuchsia-pink Chanel lipstick and scrutinising Lola’s mouth. ‘What kind of colour are you after?’
‘Something rusty-bronzy rather than pink, if you’ve got it. Can you knit?’
‘Well, no, but I could always pay some sweet little old lady to do that for me. Rusty-bronzy, rusty-bronzy ...’ Sally was busily rummaging through the boxes on her dressing table.
‘If you’d rather live in Notting Hill, my neighbour’s off to Australia next week. He’s letting his flat out for a year.’ Lola couldn’t help herself; it was worth a shot and at least Sally didn’t work in an abattoir.
‘Is he? I haven’t been to Notting Hill for years. Oooh, I know the one you need ...’ Sally flitted out of the bedroom, returning moments later with a lipstick in a bullet-shaped gold case. ‘Here you go, it was on the bathroom shelf all the time. Is this more you?’
Lola took it with relief. Versace, no less, and a gorgeous, distinctive shade of russet-red with a brownish-gold lustre. ‘This is exactly me.’ Peering into the dressing-table mirror, she applied it with a flourish and smacked her lips together.’Perfect. Now I can face the world again. Does Dougie have a girlfriend?’
