‘I’ve never met anyone so efficient.’ Bibi shook her head and looked sorrowful. ‘The whole trip lasted ninety-five minutes.’
‘Good grief.’
‘She’s a lovely girl,’ Bibi added hastily, ‘don’t get me wrong. Absolutely charming.’
‘Just not shopping-compatible.’ Dulcie nodded to show she understood, valiantly forcing herself not to say anything bitchy.
‘That’s it. We might not be shopping-compatible but she’s still terribly nice.’
‘Oh yes, ‘I know what you mean. Terribly, terribly nice.’
‘Mmm.’
‘For example, that amazingly ugly man over there with the huge wart on the end of his nose makes me want to start telling Quasimodo jokes,’ said Dulcie, ‘but if Claire was here now, I just know she’d say, 'Oh, I didn’t even notice that massive wart, ‘I was just thinking what lovely kind eyes he has.' ‘
‘She would,’ said Bibi solemnly. ‘She certainly would. Claire was the one, actually, who told me that you hadn’t meant to split me and James up. She said ‘I should make things up with you, heal the—’
‘Oh please!’ wailed Dulcie. ‘Pass the sick bag. I’ve heard enough about Saint jolly-nice Claire for one night.’
Bibi watched Dulcie – now well on the road to recovery – scrape her bowl.
‘More ice cream? More vodka?’
‘Yes please.’
‘Feeling better?’
Dulcie nodded.
‘I was so jealous,’ she admitted shamefacedly, ‘when I saw the two of you together.’
‘It was nothing. Just a one-morning stand,’ said Bibi with a grin.
‘Still, Patrick seems happy enough with her.’
Bibi attracted the attention of their waiter. When she’d reordered, she shrugged.
‘That’s men for you. Talk about going from one extreme to the other.’
Was this a compliment or not? Dulcie was still trying to puzzle it out when Bibi went on casually, ‘I mean, look at James. One minute he’s with me, the next he’s having a fling with some mini-skirted blonde in her twenties.’
Dulcie squirmed, her skin prickling with guilt.
‘Oh God.’
‘Doesn’t matter. It didn’t last long anyway.’
‘How do you know?’
‘He’s living in the flat above Margaret Taylor, in Devenish House.’ Bibi managed a slight smile.
‘She’s kept me up to date with his ... er ... comings and goings.’
More guilt, a great tidal wave of the stuff this time. ‘I did this, thought Dulcie. It’s all my fault.
‘Do you still miss him terribly?’ Her voice was small. Bibi said nothing for a moment. She studied her immaculately polished nails. Then she nodded.
‘Yes.’
‘But ... have you tried contacting him? I mean, have you seen him at all?’ Dulcie persisted.
‘Of course ‘I haven’t.’ Bibi’s eyes were full of pain but she spoke with dignity. ‘What would be the point of that? Dulcie, I didn’t end it. James was the one who dumped me.’
But there were a million other things to talk about. The conversation moved on. Unhappily for Dulcie it didn’t take long to get around to Liam McPherson.
‘Anyway,’ said Bibi when they had finished discussing Pru and Eddie’s wedding, ‘while we’re on the subject of perfect men, what happened to that dishy tennis pro of yours?’ She lowered her voice. ‘And what was all this I heard about you expecting a baby?’
Dulcie swallowed hard. She wasn’t proud of that little piece of deception. God, she did some stupid things sometimes.
Bibi was looking at her with a mixture of concern and sympathy.
‘We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, darling. But sometimes it helps.’ She paused then said delicately, ‘Was it a miscarriage, or did you ...?’
‘I wasn’t pregnant. ‘I just pretended to be,’ Dulcie confessed with a sigh. What the hell, she may as well admit everything. Bibi knew her well enough; she wasn’t likely to be too shocked by the depths to which her errant daughter-in-law was capable of sinking.
Bibi looked confused.
‘You mean ...?’
‘I was desperate,’ said Dulcie bleakly. ‘Liam was up for itwith any woman who so much as smiled at him in the street. He couldn’t keep his tracksuit bottoms on if his life depended on it.
But you hear about some men who are totally transformed when they become fathers,’ she ploughed on,
