puffy, pasty look she’d had when she left England last November.
She decided to take a stand. ‘I think I look pretty good, actually. I’ve got cheekbones, for the first time in my life.’
‘Huh. That’s not all you’ve got. I could cut myself on those shoulderblades.’
‘What?’
‘Look at yourself,’ begged Lottie. She took Bella and turned her round, so that she could see over her own shoulder into the mirror. ‘You’ve got a backbone like a kipper.
‘Bloody, bloody Francis!’ she spat, her eyes bright. ‘He manipulated you, ran you ragged. Then on top of that he went and starved you.’
Bella put an arm round her friend’s shoulders and hugged her.
‘Don’t worry, Lotts. Give me a week in the same town as Maison Paul’s chocolate doughnuts and I’ll be back to the pudding you know and love.’
Lottie fished for a tissue but said tartly, ‘Well, I certainly hope so. And I’ll book you an appointment with Carlos, too. He’ll have a heart attack when he sees your hair.’
‘OK,’ said Bella peaceably.
‘And you need to reactivate your cellphone. Gotta keep in touch.’
Peaceable was one thing. Doormat was another. ‘You know, you’ve got very bossy.’
‘Bossy? Nonsense. I’m a decisive manager,’ corrected Lottie loftily. She fled as Bella threw a pillow at her. ‘And get your nails done,’ wafted back from the sitting room.
So Bella went out and bought everything from the skin up, including a party dress for tonight, and a woolly hat, scarf and gloves for immediate use. A nice guy in the phone shop tried hard to get her mobile working again but in the end he had to give up. He wanted to sell her the latest one but her credit card was still in suspension until she rang them up and told them she was back in the country and her mother’s maiden name. So she reluctantly shook her head at an all-singing, all-dancing Formula 1 of a phone and settled for a plain old replacement. The shop guy sympathised with her credit card hiccup and threw in a pink and glittery clip-on cover for the new phone, as consolation. He even transferred the SIM card for her, and handed it over with a flourish.
Bella went back to the flat in triumph.
She found Lottie wedged into a corner of the kitchen, waiting for the microwave to ping while leafing through a thick, glossy magazine. She looked up as Bella came in.
‘Hi there. Did you buy this copy of Mondaine?’
Bella put down her carrier bags and unwound the new woolly scarf. ‘Yup. I had to break into a fifty-pound note at Waterloo last night. It was the most expensive mag I could find.’
Lottie nodded enthusiastically. ‘I’ll bet. We take it at work, but I never get to see it. People pounce on it as soon as it comes in. Have you looked at this piece on the Top Ten Eligibles? Just gorgeous.’
‘The men or the article?’
‘Both.’ The microwave pinged and Lottie removed a frothing mug of hot chocolate. ‘Do you want one?’
Bella didn’t really, but she said yes to be sociable. She looked at Mondaine’s gallery of gorgeous guys for the same reason. Shedding the cherry red hat and gloves, she fluffed out her hair and peered over Lottie’s shoulder.
‘Who’s that?’
‘Milo Crane. From Si Fy the Movie.’
Bella looked blank.
‘You must have heard of him. He’s the newest hottie on the block, ever since the movie came out.’
‘Haven’t seen it. Don’t forget, I was fifty miles away from the nearest internet connection, Lottie. TV and films didn’t figure at all.’
Lottie shuddered. ‘Unbelievable. Well, who do you know out of this lot?’
The photographs were works of art: a lithe fast bowler stretching up to a cloudless sky; the newest software billionaire, endearingly scruffy, staring blankly at a screen where his company’s share price was rocketing; Richard, Prince of Wales at some ceremony, looking startlingly handsome in a scarlet uniform that any one of his ancestors of the last three centuries could have worn, gleaming gold-embellished sword and all.
‘All of them except Milo,’ said Bella, somewhat reassured.
Lottie put her head on one side. ‘Fabulous photo of the Prince, don’t you think?’
Bella considered. He looked eager and determined. ‘Full of va-va-voom,’ she conceded. ‘But you’d want to stand well clear of that sword.’
Lottie choked. ‘I suppose so. But he’s still mega-fanciable.’
‘If you say so.’ The microwave pinged and Bella took out her own hot chocolate.
‘Don’t you think so?’
Bella shrugged. ‘Royals in military fancy dress don’t do it for me. I overdosed on The Prisoner of Zenda