A Desirable Residence - By Madeleine Wickham Page 0,93

round the table, holding those gorgeous painted mugs, looking like something in an advert. Duncan caught her eye, and waved, saying something to Ginny and Piers. Ginny’s head immediately shot round. She didn’t look that pleased to see Alice; in fact, she was looking really tense. But Alice supposed that was just because of the audition. Meeting. Whatever.

‘You look wonderful!’ she said enthusiastically to Piers as he opened the kitchen door for her. ‘Really brown! How come?’

‘He doesn’t look that brown,’ snapped Ginny. ‘It’s just a bit of a glow. Just to liven him up.’ The sunbed had been her idea, and now a tingle of worry was growing in her stomach. Did he look too tanned? Summer Street was, after all, a very British soap opera.

‘Well, I think it looks brilliant,’ said Alice honestly. She stared at Piers. ‘And that blue shirt looks really good.’

‘This shirt is great,’ said Piers, tugging at it fondly. ‘I always do well in this shirt.’ He caught Ginny’s eye and grinned. For a moment her expression remained tense. Then suddenly she broke into a smile.

‘Sit down, Alice,’ she said, patting a chair. ‘Are you on your way to school?’

‘Yes,’ said Alice. ‘I just thought I’d come and say good luck. Not that you need it,’ she added hastily.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Piers, grinning. ‘You can never have too much luck.’

He looked really good, thought Alice wistfully. Really good-looking and confident, just like a famous actor . . .

‘Have you had breakfast?’ enquired Duncan, standing at the stove. ‘Would you like my famous scrambled eggs?’

‘Yes please,’ said Alice joyfully.

‘And some coffee,’ added Ginny, passing her the cafetière. ‘Help yourself to a mug,’ she added, gesturing to the shelf behind Alice.

Afterwards, Alice couldn’t work out how it could have happened. One minute, she was grasping firmly hold of the handle of the cafetière and turning round in her seat to pick up her favourite mug with a mermaid painted on it. The next, Piers was yelling furiously, and clutching a sleeve dripping with hot coffee.

‘Alice!’ yelled Ginny and Duncan simultaneously. Then Duncan, seeing Alice turn very pale and then very red, added, ‘What a shame! Quick, Piers, off with that shirt. Is your arm OK?’

‘It’s fine,’ said Piers shakily. He gave Alice a smile. ‘Don’t worry!’

Alice stared at him in shattered disbelief.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. She looked at his wet, reddened arm in horror as he peeled back his sleeve. His shirt was stained brown in patches. She didn’t know what to say.

‘How could you do something so stupid?’ Ginny’s voice hit her ears like whiplash.

‘Ginny!’ Piers’s voice filled the kitchen with reproof. Alice shrank in her chair. She couldn’t believe she’d done such an awful thing. She should have stayed safely at home. ‘It’s not a problem,’ Piers was saying. ‘I’ll just go and change my shirt.’

‘But is your arm OK?’ Alice didn’t dare look at Ginny’s face. She sounded absolutely furious.

‘My arm’s fine,’ said Piers firmly. Alice risked a glance at him. His mouth was set straight, and his eyes were forebodingly dark.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’

‘For God’s sake!’ said Piers in mock-irritation. ‘It’s not such a disaster.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I’d better go and find another shirt.’

‘But that was your lucky shirt,’ wailed Ginny as he stood up.

‘Well, I’d better wear one of my unlucky ones then,’ said Piers evenly. Ginny sagged down into her chair when he had gone.

‘I don’t believe it,’ she said brokenly.

‘Come on, Ginny!’ said Duncan. ‘Brace up! Piers is fine.’

‘But it’s such a bad omen,’ persisted Ginny.

‘Bullshit!’ said Duncan robustly. ‘It could have been a lot worse. What if he’d spilled coffee over himself in the waiting-room at the television studios?’

‘Yes, but . . .’ began Ginny. She stopped. Alice knew what she was thinking. But he didn’t spill the coffee over himself, did he?

‘Ginny, I’m really sorry,’ she said tremulously. ‘I don’t know how it happened.’

‘It’s OK,’ said Ginny, relenting slightly. ‘It was just an accident. Accidents happen.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Piers is going to miss his train if he doesn’t hurry up,’ she said fretfully.

‘I thought he was catching the eleven o’clock?’ said Alice without thinking.

‘Yes, well, he decided to catch the earlier one, didn’t he?’ said Ginny shortly. She sighed. ‘Look, Alice, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted at you. It’s just . . .’ She swallowed, and pushed a hand through her hair. ‘This is quite an important day for us.’ Alice nodded mutely,