said cats were more rewarding and alcohol was overrated.’
Lottie gave a snort of laughter. ‘She was wrong.’ She waved her glass. ‘Come on, start pouring.’
Bella did, but shook her head at the other glass that Lottie pushed towards her.
‘Not for me, thank you. You’re right, I need to acclimatise, I think. I only had a couple of glasses last night and it made me really weird.’
Lottie flumped back on to her high stool. ‘Ah-ha! This is where you tell all about the mud. Come on then, give.’
Bella leaned against the door and gave her an edited version of the Great Ivy Disaster, dwelling on the unreasonable number of plants in the courtyard and skirting lightly round the rescue activities of Silk Shirt.
But Lottie was no fool. ‘You’re looking shifty. There was a man, wasn’t there?’
Bella shook her head. ‘No, there wasn’t. I fell into the ivy all on my own.’ Well, it was the truth, she told herself. Silk Shirt had not appeared until she was already on the floor.
Lottie stared at her for a moment like a Junior Inquisitor with something to prove. Then she seemed to get bored. ‘If you say so. So – apart from attacking the ornamental plants, did you have a good time?’
‘Yeah, it was great. Good music, great dance space. Fabulous art. It was lovely to dance again. I talked to some nice people, too.’
‘But …?’
Bella shifted her shoulders uncomfortably. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I just sort of overdosed on people, somehow. All of a sudden I felt I couldn’t hear for everyone talking, could hardly breathe for all the bodies. So that’s when I went out into that courtyard place.’
Lottie was picking at a ‘3 for the Price of 2’ sticker on the juice carton. She did not look at Bella. ‘And you didn’t enjoy that?’
‘Apart from making a spectacle of myself, you mean?’ said Bella bitterly.
Lottie glanced up then. Her eyes gleamed with triumph. ‘See? I knew there was a man. You can’t hide anything from me.’
‘Oh, rats.’
Lottie waited.
Eventually Bella sighed. ‘OK. Somebody came along and dug me out of the compost heap. He was very nice and I was – well, a bit drunk and soppy, to be honest.’
‘Did you make a pass at him?’
‘No, I did not,’ said Bella, outraged.
‘Then you didn’t make a spectacle of yourself,’ said Lottie cheerfully.
Bella shook her head in disbelief. ‘You know, you have a very black-and-white view of life.’
‘Just being practical.’
‘Huh?’
‘I know you. If you’d made a pass at him, you’d want to avoid seeing him again. Depending on who else he knows, that could be very limiting. You’ve got a social life to revive prontissimo. The Christmas party season is coming. What’s his name?’
Bella glared. ‘We didn’t exchange business cards.’
Lottie pursed her lips. ‘He didn’t tell you his name? Not a good sign. Did he ask yours?’
‘Look,’ said Bella crisply, ‘he got me up, dusted me down, waved me goodbye. No big deal.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I say so. Now – are you going to climb into that fizz until it meets over the top of your head, or can I take you out for a burger?’
Lottie said she couldn’t face a burger and she didn’t really want to go out. She wanted to slob around in sweatpants and read the papers. But if Bella was offering to cook her famous Eggs Benedict, she, Lottie, wouldn’t say no.
Bella recognised an olive branch when she saw it. ‘I’ll go and get the necessary.’
Lottie pushed off to shower and Bella slid the end of a spoon into the neck of the Cava bottle and put it back in the fridge. Then she made a careful list of all the things she would need for Eggs Benedict plus the other essentials that Lottie had somehow let get away from her, like milk and coffee, grabbed her friend’s coat again and went out.
It was a bright golden day and the low sun hit Bella straight between the eyes. Dazzled, she raced to the corner shop, promising herself that she would unearth her sunglasses before she came out into this light again. She came back with a stripy plastic bag full of food and a copy of every newspaper that the shop sold. By that time, Lottie was dressed and in a much better temper.
Bella cooked and they had a companionable afternoon brunch in the kitchen, before tucking themselves up in front of the fire and dividing the newspapers between them, sharing the good bits. From time to time