Page 60 of Matilda’s Summer of New Beginnings

Rosie didn’t even look pregnant yet. She was still in her patchwork dirndl skirt, but every so often, when they thought I wasn’t watching, Damien would place his hand on her tummy and nuzzle into her neck. She didn’t seem to be complaining, but I personally would have smacked his hand — anyone’s hand — away if they tried to touch me like that. Maybe I’d change if I was ever in that situation — but the PDAs, conscious or not, had me counting the days until I could move out and leave them to it. This weekend was part of my plan. I had things I wanted to do, things I needed to do — and I couldn’t wait for the next day. Just as I had told Jay that afternoon.

‘Oh God!’ Rosie suddenly muttered. ‘It’s Polly. She’s heading over to the pub.’

‘Yes. I told her to meet us here,’ I said.

‘What? But she scares the life out of me!’ Rosie screeched, staring at me wide-eyed.

‘And you scare the life out of her,’ I scolded.

‘What?’ Rosie scrunched her face up disbelievingly, while I stood up and waved at Polly, letting her know where we were. I’d done the final fitting for her outfit after the tearoom had closed, and convinced her to join us. I really did think she and Rosie would hit it off if only they gave each other the chance.

‘The way I see it,’ I told Rosie, ‘is that you both need to know how very unscary the other one is. Polly has body hang-ups just like we do. And she thinks you’re a classy fashionista in a power-packed job,’ I added for good measure.

‘I am so not that woman!’ squealed Rosie. ‘I think my job title would be something like “runner” if I had a job title. I just flit around photo shoots most of the time and soothe bruised egos.’

‘Well then. Soothe Polly’s. Compliment her legs — it would mean a lot to her. Honestly.’

‘She does have long legs,’ added Damien, gaining himself a glare from the pair of us. ‘What? What’s the problem?’ he asked. ‘I’m a heterosexual male and I can still find long legs on a woman attractive. If Tom Hardy walked in here, Rosie would fling herself down in front of him and declare undying love to his tattoos. I haven’t got any, but it doesn’t mean I get annoyed with Rosie liking tattoos.’

‘Stop being so damn reasonable,’ Rosie said nudging him playfully. ‘Anyway — I don’t have to pretend to compliment her, because her legs really are bloody amazing.’ Rosie swung her head around to face Polly, who was walking slowly and warily towards us.

‘Oh! Wow. I love those skinny jeans!’ Rosie suddenly said, pointing to Polly’s ripped ones. ‘They really suit you. There was a model in one of our summer shoots who wore something very like them, but she didn’t rock them as much as you do. Your legs look amazing! Hello again Polly. How are you? Matilda says you’re doing fab in the tearoom. Come and join us and tell us more.’

Good old Rosie.

Polly, bless her, hovered for a moment, then a little smile tilted her lips. ‘I got them at the supermarket,’ she responded. ‘I didn’t know they were based on designer ones. It’s the only place I can get some that are long enough to fit.’

‘You’re not shopping in the right places then,’ said Rosie. ‘Let me pull some strings at work. I’m sure we’ll have some samples we can sell you very cheaply — if not give them to you . . .’

I slid out of my seat to buy a round of drinks and nudged Damien to come and help me, but I was no longer worried about Rosie and Polly getting on after this . . .

* * *

All in all, we had a very pleasant evening. Rosie and Polly were soon chatting happily, and that left me and Damien to have a conversation. And there seemed to be one thing that was weighing on his mind more heavily than anything else — the exhibition at Machismo.

‘I’m not really feeling it any more, Tilds,’ he told me, pulling a face. ‘I think, if I was given an alternative, I’d ditch that place.’

‘You don’t have to have an alternative. You can ditch it anyway,’ I told him.

‘But it’s the only option I’ve got at the minute. And I wouldn’t mind trying to get a bit of an extra income, because that’s always welcome.’

‘I suppose your boyish good looks, the modelling, and that job you have that nobody seems certain of aren’t exactly steady income.’

‘The modelling, no.’ He had the grace to smile, embarrassed. ‘But I’ve got a proper job now, managing a new art supply shop and framers in Soho. I didn’t want to tell you until my probation was up in case it jinxed it for me — but I passed and it’s all good. So it’s pretty steady, and I can get you a discount if you want. But it would be cool if the manager had an exhibition, don’t you think?’

‘Very cool,’ I agreed. ‘And well done. You’ve grown up quite a bit, my friend.’ I held my palm up for a high five, and he obliged. It felt so good to be properly back on our old familiar terms again.

Even if he had knocked up my best friend. But, I suppose, she’d had a hand in it as well, so to speak.

Whatever. All was good, and we were back to how we should have been. It felt nice.

But I still missed Jay, because he would have been the perfect addition to that almost perfect evening in Padcock.

Chapter Twenty-Four

And then it was here at last! The day of the Padcock Summer Fayre, the day of my first “exhibition”, and the day when I’d see Jay again — maybe not all day as he’d said, but surely I’d see him for at least some of it. And I’d also get to see him sing again, and not just in a karaoke fashion.

I couldn’t believe how excited I was about the day. It was rather bonkers, but as I stretched my toes out in my lovely cosy holiday bed and found a cool spot right at the bottom of the covers, I couldn’t help but grin widely.