preparing to defend an innocent gazelle from a couple of boisterous lion cubs. ‘Isabel, this is my sister Sally.’ In throwaway fashion he then added, ‘And her friend Lola!
Just to make crystal clear to everyone in the room how completely unimportant she was, how utterly irrelevant to his life.
To compound it, Isabel smiled widely and said, ‘Sally. I’ve heard all about you. Doug’s always talking about you!’
‘Is he? He’s kept very quiet about you.’ Sally unwound her lime-green scarf, flung aside her handbag and plonked herself down on the sofa. ‘So, how long have you two known each other?’
‘Glass of red?’ Evidently keen to be rid of her ASAP, Doug appeared in front of Lola with the open bottle and a clean glass.
Talk about brisk. What could she ask for that would spin things out a bit longer?
‘Actually, I’d love a coffee.’
‘Well, we’ve known each other for ages.’ Across the room, Isabel flipped back her ironed blonde hair and sat down cosily next to Sally. ‘We work together,’ she confided. ‘But we’ve only recently become ... you know, closer.’
It hadn’t been love at first sight then. That was something to be grateful for. Although it would be nice if she could have been a bit less pretty.
‘I was seeing someone else,’ Isabel went on, ‘but we broke up. After that, Doug and I just ended up getting together.’
Lola looked at Doug, sending him a telepathic message: we could do that, you and me .. .
‘Coffee.’ Doug’s tone was brusque; he didn’t appear to be telepathic. ‘Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make it.’
‘Actually I’ll come with you.’ Lola flashed him a sunny smile. ‘Then I can make sure you don’t palm me off with instant!
As she followed Doug into the kitchen, Isabel was saying cheerily, ‘... and I’m going down to Brighton tonight, to stay with my parents. That’s what Christmas is all about, isn’t it? Mind you, I’m going to miss Doug! I can’t wait to see what he’s bought me. He wouldn’t let me open it tonight.’
The kitchen was nice, black and white and boasting, among other items, a huge chrome Dualit toaster.
‘Still keen on toast, then,’ said Lola.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Inspecting the cupboards. What happened to the Pot Noodles? You used to love Pot Noodles.’
Exasperated, Doug said, ‘When I was seventeen.’
‘I bet you still secretly like them. Once a Pot Noodler, always a Pot Noodler.’ Lola carried on opening and closing drawers and cupboards; finding a secret stash of Hot’n’Spicys would bring her so much joy. ‘I bet you put on a hat and dark glasses, sneak off to some supermarket miles away, praying you won’t bump into anyone you know, and buy up trolley loads at a time. And then you have to smuggle them back to Kensington — imagine the shame if the neighbours found out!’
‘Will you stop riffling through my cupboards?’
‘Why, am I getting warm?’
‘Here, just take your coffee.’ Having sunk the plunger on the cafetiere in record time, Doug shoved a small cup into her hands.
Lola peered into the cup. ‘Bit weak.’
‘Too bad. Shall we head back through?’
‘What did you buy Isabel for Christmas?’
Doug looked exasperated. ‘I’m not telling you that.’
Sally, whose eavesdropping skills were second to none, said, ‘You’re not telling her what?’
when they returned to the living room.
‘I was wondering what he’d bought you for Christmas,’ said Lola, ‘that’s all.’
‘Anything’s fine by me.’ Sally beamed at Doug. ‘So long as he’s kept the receipt.’
‘Oh poor Dougie! I wouldn’t dream of taking back anything he bought me,’ trilled Isabel.
‘Whatever it was:
‘Remember when we bought each other the same CD? Parklife,’ Lola fondly reminisced without thinking. ‘God, we used to play that album non-stop. I can still remember the words to every song.’
‘Hang on, you mean you and Doug bought each other the same CD?’ Isabel looked confused.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise ...’
Lola shrugged and managed a smile that was both carefree and tinged with regret; it seemed a bit mean to announce that Dougie had been her first love.
‘Oh yes,’ Sally said helpfully. ‘They were boyfriend and girlfriend.’
‘That was a long time ago,’ Doug cut in. ‘Back in the days when I still ate Pot Noodles. As I was just explaining to Lola,’ he added pointedly, ‘our tastes change over the years.’
Isabel let out a high-pitched shriek of laughter. ‘You used to like Pot Noodles? Oh my God!’
