Page 50 of Mad About You

Then, with Harriet feeling agonised to be in the way of a more private conversation, Gethin added: ‘I’d really like to see you again, Lorna. On a night when you don’t have to cook, as great as that was.’

‘You’re on,’ Lorna said. After a pause, where Harriet held her breath, she added: ‘I would like that.’

Lorna poured out more shots.

‘Did I reek of sincerity?’ she asked, as soon as Gethin had gone.

‘Yes, you did!’

‘It took considerable effort. No nervous jokes if he asks me out, I had told myself. What’s the catch here then? I like him, he seems to like me. I can’t wait for God’s great prank to be revealed.’

‘There isn’t one. You already know about Bubbles Hussein. Secret wife and kids?’

‘Doubtful. I’ve investigated him so much online it was practically a colonoscopy.’

‘Scott was at the wedding I did yesterday,’ Harriet said, gasping through the mouth burn from the Limoncello, the only way she felt able to force the words past her lips. ‘He was the best man.’

Lorna’s eyes widened. ‘Scott as in your ex?’

‘Yes.’

The mood was immediately extinguished, as if they’d snuffed a candle by pinching the flame with wet forefinger and thumb. There was a reason Harriet had held this back until the bitter end and it wasn’t just because she wanted to be hammered. He was still a sore topic between them, one they avoided. They had no other conversational No-Go zones as friends, but Scott was uniquely poisonous to the mood.

‘We didn’t speak other than to do hellos, as if we didn’t know each other. He was with his fiancée, who looked terrorised.’

‘No doubt,’ Lorna said quietly.

Harriet grimaced. ‘I’ve been stewing on what I’m going to do about it for twenty-four hours and I’ve made up my mind.’

‘Do about it?’ Lorna said, sceptical. ‘There’s something to do?’

Harriet explained her very simple, powerful and necessary course of action, to deepening furrows in Lorna’s brow, as she spoke.

Afterwards, Lorna shook her head, firmly. ‘Two things, one, that is mad. Secondly, I am too drunk to deal with this articulately. I’ll drive over tomorrow at midday for a walk in the park and we’ll discuss why you won’t do this. Deal?’

‘Deal to the walk, at least.’

Harriet might be drunk too, but the previous night she had lain awake until three a.m. thinking it through. Eventually, she’d got out of bed and written nonstop until five a.m. She had been a woman possessed. She had got so absorbed init, it looked like an epic once she’d finished, yet she couldn’t and wouldn’t edit it, either. Whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Harriet was absolutely sure of one thing: she would send this letter to Scott’s fiancée.

23

Harriet was still brushing her teeth when Lorna rang the doorbell at ten to twelve the next day – she wasn’t usually punctual, let alone early, and Harriet feared this was an ominous sign about Lorna’s fervour for her mission.

She heard Cal let her in, and decided that as Lorna was being attended to, she’d do her mascara and find her bits and pieces for their excursion.

Minutes later, as Harriet came down the stairs, Lorna was laughing, and – rather disconcertingly – it was Lorna’sreallaugh, earthy and guttural. Harriet had been so sure that Lorna would disapprove of Cal, she’d not even considered it could be otherwise. God’s sake, did Cal Clarke’s ability to beguile never end? Well, yes. Once you were in a white gown, in sight of a vicar.

‘You’ve got a friend! Who hasn’t punched me!’ Cal said, ready for a run, headphones round his neck, looking as fresh in his white t-shirt as a cleanly cut apple.

‘I was thinking about it, I won’t lie,’ Lorna said, hands in pockets of her dungarees, and she and Cal giggled conspiratorially together again.

For fuck’s sake.

‘Just checking I’ve got it right. Otley Road? The green frontage with the bay trees?’ Cal said.

Why was she encouraging him to go to her restaurant?!

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