around in a sequined tube top,’ she added, ‘whilst miming badly into a microphone.’
‘Oh my God, I’ve got it!’ Slopping wine on to the worktop, Ellie made the connection. ‘You’re one of the Deevas!’ OK, even more embarrassing; they’d never met before, she’d just seen Roo on TV.
‘Don’t feel bad. I prefer it when people don’t recognize me.’ Roo tweaked her spiky white-blond bangs. ‘Hence the hair. Anyway, that was way back. We grew up.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Well, kind of. And we moved on.’
Crikey, the Three Deevas had been huge seven or eight years ago. Billed as the girl band with claws, they had been sparky, feisty, and full of attitude, the natural successors to the Spice Girls. Their songs had been played everywhere, their first album a triumph. One black girl with blond hair, one white girl with black hair, and one Asian girl with super-long eyelashes and no hair at all.
Ellie searched her memory bank for more details. Dolly, Daisy, and Mya Deeva, those had been the names they’d gone by. Their first single had been the fantastically successful, ‘If I Loved You, I’d Remember Your Name’. It had to be bleeped because of the line, ‘Men are good for a shag and a new handbag.’
But music was a notoriously tough business. Eight months later, Dolly Deeva had blotted her copybook when she’d flashed her boobs live on children’s TV. Then Mya Deeva had fallen off the stage at a benefit gig and broken both legs. Finally, Daisy Deeva had given a tipsy interview to MTV announcing that she couldn’t sing in tune, Dolly Deeva wasn’t really a vegetarian, and their fat git of a manager needed to come out of the closet.
After that, the magic formula unraveled faster than an old sock. A year after they’d burst onto the scene, it was all over. The Three Deevas broke up and slid back into obscurity, and their fans found new girl bands to idolize.
Fascinated, Ellie said, ‘You were Daisy.’
‘Just don’t ask me to sing.’ Roo pulled a face. ‘Because I really can’t. Anyway, I’d much rather talk about you.’
But first they had to put a pan of spaghetti on the boil, to go with the sauce. As soon as that was done they headed back into the living room. Spotting the azure seas and white sandy beach on the still-frozen TV screen, Roo exclaimed, ‘Ooh, what were you watching? Mamma Mia?’
Before Ellie could react, she’d seized the remote control and pressed Play. Belatedly, Ellie said, ‘No, it’s—’
‘OK, not Mamma Mia.’ Gazing intently at the screen, Roo watched as Jamie chased Ellie into the water, pulling her into a jokey Hollywood clinch as a wave broke behind them, showering them in spray. Todd, manning the camcorder from a safe distance, called out, ‘You two, get a room.’
‘That’s you.’ Roo glanced back at Ellie, then at the box of tissues on the arm of the sofa. Realization dawned. ‘Oh no, you were sitting here all on your own, playing home videos, and getting emotional. Who’s the guy? Don’t tell me, let me guess. You’re not together anymore.’
Momentarily lost for words, Ellie said, ‘Um, well, no…’
‘Ha, knew it! And he’s the one who buggered off, that’s obvious, because otherwise why would you be watching this stuff? Now look, this isn’t doing you any good.’ Roo picked up the box of tissues, tut-tutted, and put them on the floor, out of reach. ‘Trust me, men aren’t worth it. You just have to get on with your life. OK, so he was a pretty one.’ She turned back to the TV and pressed Pause, freezing the screen to capture Jamie mid-leap in a game of beach volleyball. ‘But he left you, so don’t dwell on the good points. Be critical. Ask yourself what kind of bloke wears a T-shirt the color of baby’s poo. And what about those legs? They’re too skinny! And I bet he snored!’
Ellie hesitated, her mind racing. It was already too late to tell Roo the truth about Jamie; she would be mortified. What’s more, she would stop being irreverent and funny and treating her like a normal person. It happened every time, without fail. As soon as anyone found out she was a widow, their attitude towards her changed in an instant.
Sorry, Jamie.
Aloud she said, ‘OK, sometimes he snored.’
‘I knew it!’ Roo clapped her hands. ‘And spindly little legs like bits of spaghetti. Just concentrate on the bad points and you’ll be over him in no