Page 40 of Mad About You

‘One friend is a wingman, and to be expected. Two is three lads total, which is a gang. It says, “don’t get any ideas”.’

‘Let me ask you this: if Gethin had a restaurant and had invited you, wouldn’t you take us, on your first visit? Hedge your bets?’

‘Yes, but.’

‘What?’

‘You can prove anything with this sort of smart arsery, Hatley! I don’t need it; I need your help. You and Roxy have to come in that night. Please tell me you don’t have a wedding.’

‘You’re in luck, this week’s is a fashionable Friday at the town hall and reception at Issho’s.’

‘Yasssssss! You and Roxy have a table, also at around half eight, nine, and then if things go well, all six of us do a lock-in. That way, if I’m being mugged off here, I didn’t act like I had any expectations.’

‘It sounds like he wants dinner and you’re casting forWest Side Story. Is it not a little bit obvious if you’ve got us in at the same time he’s got them in?’

‘It would’ve been, had I not had the reactions of a ninja and as soon as he said he was bringing pals I said smoothly,oh that’s a coincidence, this’ll be fun, my mates are in that nighttoo.Gethin is not dealing with an amateur.’

‘Haha. Lucky I could make it then.’

‘Seriously though, this is bringing it all rushing back. All the flirting and the signals, then suddenly a big air horn of nope.’

‘Wasn’t the air horn you falling down a manhole, thinking he’d ghosted you, when in fact you’d ghosted him?’

‘I knew you’d throw that “fact” in my face.’

Harriet updated Lorna on her meeting with Jon, and how he started quoting literary greats on the perfidy of women.

‘Unbelievable. He is a possessive shit in bad denim who has never really respected you. That’s from Jane Austen.’

‘I know. I mean, I appreciate he’s really cut up and didn’t see our break-up coming …’

‘Stop making excuses for him. Punching your landlord isn’t OK. Accusing you of infidelity based on nothing isn’t OK. Proposing to you as a form of entrapment isn’t OK. He is misaligned.’

Harriet couldn’t find an error in this.

‘You’ve got to stop planning for the Jon you thought you had and start dealing with the Jon you actually have. Who appears to be an absolute danger.’

It was no good – indicting Jon always led Harriet to the same place.

‘Lorna …’

‘Yes.’

‘Is this definitive proof I have the worst judgement in men?’

‘No, you don’t. What you have is trust, that has been abused. Men aren’t your fault.’

19

It couldn’t possibly be Jacqueline Barraclough’s ‘little town runaround’ sports car that was backing into the drive early that evening, boxing Harriet’s Golf in, could it? Why would she be here? How could she be here?

Harriet’s stomach went on spin as a familiar silver-blonde head emerged from the driver’s side. Harriet had no time to escape: she was visible through the front room’s bay window.

The doorbell bing-bonged and a gut-churned Harriet opened the door to Jacqueline, wearing an imperious expression. Sunglasses with rhinestone-encrusted arms were pushed up into her hair and she was clad in a seashell-pink silk jersey sweater, thrown over a starched white shirt with turned-up collar. She was wearing a rose-gold locket which she’d once shown Harriet contained infant photos of Jon and Martin Junior: ‘my babies, always near my heart’.

Harriet sensed she was not about to be asked how she was settling in.

‘Hello, Harriet.’

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