I mean, we’ll miss you being here.’ Her gray-haired friend nodded eagerly. ‘But you’ll have a spare bedroom, won’t you, so Jim and I can come and stay with you both! We could pop over every couple of weeks!’
‘Well, ye-es…’
Roo hid a smile at the dark-haired woman’s less than enthusiastic response. Eavesdropping was one of her favorite pastimes; she just loved observing the way other people interacted.
‘So have you handed in your notice at work?’
‘Not yet. Zack’s up in Manchester today. I’m going to tell him tomorrow. He’ll be devastated to lose me, of course. We work so well together. Is this cheesecake a little more lemony than usual?’
‘Possibly. But he won’t have any trouble finding someone else, will he? I mean, he’s Zack McLaren. He’ll be inundated with offers from girls desperate to work for him!’
The dark-haired woman gave a snort of derision. ‘That’s not what he wants though, is it? He wants someone capable of doing the job, someone trustworthy who takes pride in their work. Not some simpering ninny in a short skirt.’
Roo, currently wearing a very short skirt, idly typed the name into Google Images and watched as a series of photos popped up on the screen. Zack McLaren, it appeared, was an entrepreneur. Bloody hell, the bossy old trout worked for this man? He was a looker. Covertly studying her, Roo took in the sensible slip-on shoes, the 1960s perm, and the hint of moustache on the woman’s upper lip. What was he thinking of?
Ten minutes later the woman daintily brushed cheesecake crumbs from around her mouth, finished her tea, and rose to leave.
‘Well, back to work. Lots to do in the office this afternoon. I tell you something,’ she added smugly, ‘Zack’s going to have his work cut out finding someone who matches up to me.’
Her friend nodded. ‘You’re right there, Barbara.’
‘I’m always right.’ Barbara beamed. ‘Anyway, I’ll be in touch, dear. Toodle-oo!’
How could Zack McLaren have employed someone who said toodle-oo? And whose ankles looked as if they were melting over the top of her shoes? Raising her sunglasses, Roo watched Barbara strut off up the road like a soldier on a route march.
Just before she was due to disappear from view, an idea popped into Roo’s head that sent little zings of adrenaline through her fingers. Hurriedly shutting her laptop, she jumped to her feet and set off in pursuit.
Barbara had turned the corner. By the time Roo got her in her sights again she was halfway down Ancram Street. Then she paused, took a key from her bag, and climbed the steps to a white stucco-fronted Georgian-style house with a pillared entrance and a cranberry-red front door.
This must be where Barbara worked. Unless she’d been lying about getting back to the office and was in fact meeting her secret lover for an afternoon of torrid, passionate sex.
OK, it was probably where she worked.
Reaching the house, Roo rang the bell. The box next to the glossy cranberry-red door emitted a squawk and an officious, ‘Yes?’
‘Barbara? I have a message for you.’
‘What kind of message?’
‘OK, it’s more of a proposal. Except not the marriage kind,’ Roo added. ‘Can I come in?’
The door was opened seconds later. Barbara stood in the doorway, her gaze flickering over Roo on the top step. Finally she said, ‘You were sitting outside the café just now.’
‘I was. Well spotted!’ Roo beamed; a bit of flattery never went amiss. ‘And I couldn’t help overhearing what you were saying about having to leave your job.’
‘Really.’ Barbara didn’t invite her in. ‘Where’s this leading?’
‘Well, wouldn’t your boss appreciate it if you could present him with a replacement when you tell him you won’t be working for him anymore? I think he would,’ said Roo. ‘And I think it was fate that had us both sitting outside that café today.’
Barbara’s pale eyes narrowed. ‘Well, it’s very kind of you to offer, but I don’t think you’re quite the type we’re looking for.’ She was gazing at Roo’s abbreviated skirt, silver Uggs, and turquoise T-shirt with I’ve Had Your Dad emblazoned across the front.
‘Oh God, no, it’s not me. Ha, what a thought!’ Roo waved her hands in horror; out of the two of them, it was a toss-up who was more appalled. ‘No, no, someone else. The absolute opposite of me, I promise. She works in a business center in Twickenham, but this would be so much handier. And she types like lightning…’ She waggled her fingers madly to demonstrate. ‘Honestly, you