Page 27 of Cover Story

Amber reappeared, crossing an acre of her bare, tanned legs in an ankle-length dress with a deep slit in it, and taking a drag on a Lost Mary, Watermelon Ice flavour vape.

She picked her glass up, tapped, ‘Salut!’ and drank.

‘I could hear some of your conversation just now, and your friend sounded likea lot,if you don’t mind me saying?’

‘Oof, is she ever.’

Bel recounted Shilpa’s fictional tantrums in colourful, amusing terms, and Amber snorted. They shared notes on hens, weddings and girl group holiday WhatsApp politics.

‘Mexico! That’s what, a three, four grand spend on a hen?’ Amber frowned, shading her eyes from the sun. ‘That is too much, in my humble.’

Bel agreed it was. She tried not to congratulate herself too early on her prediction that drama and alcohol were key British girl-bonding rituals, ones that might fast-track a friendship.

(Shilpa had been awestruck when she outlined it. ‘If it works, Amber thinks SHE befriended YOU? You are so Machiavellian, Macauley! LikeGame of Thrones, the shit stirrer guy, Lord Shitfinger.’ ‘Do you mean Littlefinger?’ Bel said. ‘Wait, yes.’)

And it turned out, Bel was absolutely right not to prematurely drown in pride, because a big fall was coming. A big fall in Tom Ford sunglasses and black Levis.

Sipping her second drink, she glanced up, and with an immobilising degree of horror, saw Connorwalking down the street towards them. A six-foot-tall, arrogant nightmare, slicing through her carefully constructed unreality.Connor Adams.What the fuck? This far from the office?! On a working day? On the day she starts playing her undercover role, properly?

It was such astonishingly bad luck, such an implausible comic beat, Bel took a few moments to absorb and process that this piece of cosmical ultra fuckery was definitely happening. That it wasn’t an uncanny lookalike, and that there was no arguing with it.

She couldn’t flee the scene with a sudden loo trip: he’d seen her, she was captive, and he would be within speaking distance any second.

Bella Niven had only a split second to work out what to do.

18

‘Hi …?’ Connor said, hesitantly, as he drew level, removing the glasses.

‘Hi yourself!’ Bel said, in a voice that implied this was funny, in a way they both understood.

She could see him taking in her hair, make-up, the violet sundress with gold platform sandals, the whole ‘not working from home, in fact, pavement boozing’ vibe, while not looking at all like Bel Macauley.Dissonant cues everywhere, confusion jangling like wind chimes. His knitted brow said: was Bel some sort of grifting sociopath, using the ‘Investigations Editor’ title to get ratted on the newspaper dime?

She had to leap, or it was game over.

‘Amber. This is Connor.My boyfriend,’she said, looking directly at him, enunciating clearly and confidently. She injected a note of shy girlish pride, inhabiting the role of A Woman Head Over Her Esska Heels: undoubtedly her most skilful acting yet.

Connor, understandably, stared at her in alarm, wondering if he’d misheard. Yet crucially, in the moments that followed, he made no response. Mute stupefaction was desirable– Bel could work with silence until Connor, she hoped against hope, caught up. It was a coin flip: surely he’d take some self-righteouspleasure in making her look ridiculous. She was at his mercy, and she didn’t fancy his stocks of mercy were high.

‘Pleased to meet you, Connor,’ Amber said. ‘I’m Bella’s new BFF. Laurent Perrier introduced us, hahahaha.’

‘I was hot desking in there,’ Bel nodded into the bar, ‘and got into a major Bridezilla spat with Shilpa about her hen do on FaceTime, tell you later,’ Bel said, with a theatrical eyeroll, ‘and I needed a drink. This absolute babe has bought me bubbles to cheer me up.’ She paused. ‘What are you doing here?’

Her palms were now slick with sweat. Ironically, it was a question she’d like answered, just absolutely not right now. Connor hadn’t been in the office this morning; she’d assumed he’d been sent out in the field.

‘Checking out Didsbury House Hotel for my brother’s imminent visit. He likes eyes on his options. I’ve got a day off in lieu today …’ Connor hesitated. ‘Remember?’

‘Oh, of course!’ Bel said. ‘Looking forward to meeting him.’

There was a tense beat where Bel realised the blindsided Connor couldn’t risk saying anything else without knowing the terms of her batshit fiction.

‘How long have you two been together?’ said Amber, curiously.

Bel quietly panicked that whether consciously or not, Amber was registering it was quite odd for a couple not to share notes on their whereabouts. If it didn’t bother her now, it might do later. It was too soon for unusual things to start happening. Bel had to bluster with enough force that it was forgotten.

‘Erm …’ Bel contorted her face, as if trying to do genuine calculations. ‘Where are we now, June? That’s eight months,give or take? We met at a Halloween party in London. What a night that was, Con.’

She let go a goofy, dirty laugh, in her Bella mode.Con.Well, quite.

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