‘Me too. I’m delighted to have met you,’ he said, hugging her.
‘Same here,’ Hilary smiled, and his hug was warmly reciprocated.
‘Now we can have a real heart to heart,’ Colette exclaimed, delighted to see the back of the interloper. She had enjoyed impressing him with her tales of London life, but she was finally glad to have Hilary’s undivided attention.
Oh no! thought Hilary. She was tipsy and tired, ready for bed. But Colette was re-energized and went into the house to locate another bottle of wine. ‘Only a small glass for me,’ Hilary protested weakly.
Ignoring her, Colette filled both glasses to the brim and sat down and said, ‘Now what do you think? Should I have a facelift in London or New York? It would probably be better to have it in London so I’m fresh when we move Stateside? And do you think I should get a boob job done? Pinky and perky are beginning to droop a little,’ she moaned, thrusting her pert bosom upwards.
‘They look fine to me,’ Hilary slurred. She wanted to put her head on her arms and lie down on the table and fall asleep.
‘No they are not,’ Colette assured her. ‘When I’m wearing a strapless dress I can feel the tug of gravity.’ But her words wafted off on the balmy breeze as Hilary’s head sank to her chest and she gave a tiny snore.
Jonathan leaned back against the leather upholstery and let the sounds of Dean Martin singing ‘Amore’ wash over him. The taxi driver was listening to a late-night programme on the radio and was not inclined to talk, for which Jonathan was utterly relieved. He hated chatty taxi drivers.
Today had been a cracker of a day. A real surprise. The course had been interesting and informative but meeting Hilary had been the icing on the cake. She was the biz. He smiled to himself as the taxi whizzed through Fairview, the park dark and uninviting on his left a contrast to the bright lights of the thronged pubs and restaurants on his right.
It was a shame that friend of hers had called. What a diva! She had spent two hours monopolizing the conversation and he could see that Hilary was a tad cheesed off with her. And what a name-dropper! He had pretended interest out of politeness, and there were times when Colette had been interesting but she hadn’t allowed anyone else to get a word in edgeways. It seemed she might be moving to the States, so perhaps he would never have to see her again. A relief, he thought. Especially as he just knew he and Hilary were going to be great pals. And he was definitely going to up his game in his lighting design on his latest commission. Actually he couldn’t wait, Jonathan thought happily. He had some terrific ideas about how to progress his new project and his future career and Hilary was definitely going to be a part of it.
It certainly wasn’t the evening she’d anticipated, Colette thought grumpily, waiting for the taxi she had called to arrive. Hilary was up in bed snoring, and she had been left to blow out the candles and bring the dishes and glasses into the kitchen and lock up. She was damned if she was cleaning up, although she did note that Jonathan had cleared up after cooking her meal, and he must have filled the dishwasher because there were no other dishes on the counter. He was a poncy little upstart who didn’t know his place, no matter what Hilary said. He’d made himself at home and was far too familiar for someone Hilary hardly knew, in Colette’s opinion.
The taxi driver flashed the lights when he arrived, seeing her looking out the window, so she gave a wave and switched off the sitting-room lamps and walked into the hall. She thought she should leave the light on in case Hilary came downstairs later. Her friend was well jarred and she could easily fall down the stairs in the dark. Colette pressed the keypad to set the alarm and closed the front door behind her.
‘The Shelbourne,’ she said crisply, settling herself into the back of the taxi.
‘Off to a party, luv? Nice night for it,’ the driver said chattily.
‘No,’ she said curtly, hoping he would take the hint and shut up.
‘Nice houses around here,’ he remarked, undaunted, driving along The Middle Third.
Colette ignored him and sat staring out of the window. She was fed up. She’d wanted to talk things over with Hilary. She’d wanted her best friend to be impressed with the great new opportunity that was opening up for her and Des. She’d wanted Hilary to offer advice and assure her that everything would work out well for them. Instead she’d had to entertain a stranger that she didn’t particularly take to and make small talk for the entire evening.
Jealousy had raised its familiar head too, Colette admitted ruefully. When she’d seen how comfortable Hilary was with Jonathan, who had been lounging in the chair out on the patio when she arrived, she had been miffed to discover they’d only just met. And spouting all that guff about setting up in business together. That was drink talking for sure, she thought derisively. Hilary had enough on her hands with her father’s shop. There was nothing of the go-ahead career woman about her. She was far too laid-back.
Jonathan should have left, no matter what Hilary said. He should have known that she was only being polite when she’d pressed him to stay. And Hilary should have wanted to be on her own with Colette. It was ages since they’d seen each other! It was
