‘What do you want to do?’
Another shrug. ‘I don’t know. Go home, I suppose.’
‘Are you sure? Phil might be there. Stay with me tonight.’ Liza felt rather heroic; she had been enjoying herself tremendously. Now it looked as if she was going to have to miss the rest of the party and take Pru back to her flat instead.
Dulcie cannoned through the door.
‘He’s gone. I just hit him again, out in the car park. And I told that stringy cow to fuck off too.’
Her green eyes glittered. ‘I said if she ever sets foot in your house again she’s dead. Oh Pm, I’m so sorry it had to happen like this. And they could have ruined the party—’
She went to fling her arms around Pm, still sitting stiffly on her chair.
Pru flung the contents of her glass into Dulcie’s face. At least that was her intention but her aim was off. Most of it splattered against the mirror above the basin.
‘What the ?’ Dulcie staggered backwards, stunned by Pru’s reaction. It was like being spat at by a nun.
‘You planned all this, didn’t you?’ hissed Pru. She began to shake. ‘Wait until ten o’clock, you said, for an extra- special surprise. Two late arrivals. For God’s sake, Dulcie, what did you think you were playing at?’
Liza stared at Dulcie. Surely she hadn’t .. .
‘Oh come on!’ Dulcie howled, mopping helplessly at her wet left shoulder and brandy-spotted dress. ‘They weren’t the surprise! Do you seriously think I’d do something that crass?’
Nobody said anything. Dulcie stamped her foot in frustration. Some friends she had.
‘Well I bloody wouldn’t. What I’d planned was brilliant, the answer to a problem nobody else has had the guts to solve. And dammit’ – she checked her watch – ‘if we don’t get out there we’re going to miss the whole thing. It’ll happen without me.’
Pru rose to her feet.
‘Dulcie, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I just did that.’ She looked worried. ‘Is your dress okay?’
‘I can’t believe you did it either.’ Dulcie broke into a grin. ‘And my dress will be fine. Just as well it wasn’t egg flip.’
‘Come on, let’s go. We don’t want to miss your big surprise,’ said Pru with a ghost of a smile.
‘What is it, a Chippendale for Liza?’
Bibi looked pretty shell-shocked when she arrived on James’s arm and realised whose party he had brought her to. Rushing over to welcome them, Dulcie saw her eyes flicker around the hall in search of banners screaming: 40 TODAY!
To allay Bibi’s fears and prevent her dragging James back out to the car, Dulcie greeted her with a kiss, whispering in her ear, ‘Don’t panic, all under control.’
She wasn’t completely insensitive. It wasn’t as if she was going to jump up on to the stage with a loud-hailer yelling, ‘Hands up all those eligible for a bus pass.’
Oh no, that would be downright naff.
Subtlety was the key, Dulcie had decided. She wasn’t going to say anything at all. Just wait for the revelation to casually slip out.
It casually slipped out sooner than she had expected. Having recovered from the Pru-and-Phil incident, everyone had taken to the dance floor with a vengeance. Dulcie and James were telling Bibi about the panic over the buffet and Dulcie’s trolley dash around Marks & Spencer. Patrick returned with drinks for Bibi and James.
Suzannah Somers was the effervescent wife of one of Patrick’s old rugby friends – from way back, when he’d had time to play rugby. She tapped Patrick on the shoulder.
‘Hello, birthday boy! Dulcie, you don’t mind if I borrow him, do you? My hopeless other half dances like a gorilla with gout.’
‘Feel free.’ Dulcie waved an indulgent arm in the direction of the dance floor.
The DJ was playing something weird Patrick had never heard before. Looking worried he said,
‘Don’t expect miracles.’
Suzannah giggled. ‘Come on, you used to be a terrific dancer! Mind you, that was in the good old days. Before you turned forty.’
James gave Suzannah an odd look. Unable to help herself, Dulcie choked on her drink. Bibi turned white.
Patrick’s laugh was loud and unconvincing. ‘Suzannah, someone’s been spiking your shandies.’
Since the best course of action was clearly to get her out of earshot, he grabbed her hand and began hauling her on to the dance floor. ‘Forty, ha ha ha. That’ll be the day.’
At that moment the music stopped. Suzamah, by this time deeply puzzled, said loudly, ‘Patrick, are you drunk? Of course you’re forty. That’s why we’re all here.’
Patrick couldn’t bear it. He danced with Suzannah to something by Babylon Zoo, whoever they might be. If this toe-curling situation had something to do with Dulcie – as he suspected it had –
then Dulcie could sort it out.
Chapter 8
‘What’s going on?’ said James, who was even more confused than Suzannah. ‘Patrick isn’t forty.
He can’t be. He’s thirty-two.’
