Page 28 of Cover Story

‘Aww. Was it love at first sight?’ Amber said, looking to Bel and then to Connor.

‘Erm …’ he said, with a look of consternation. Was he going to give up?Sorry, I’ve missed a page here …

‘Difficult to say, thanks to the fancy dress,’ Connor said, after a throat clearing. ‘Harley Quinn costume. I was glad to find out the hair was a wig.’

She had another rush of adrenaline, this time in relief flavour.

‘I went all in,’ Bel agreed.

‘Remind me what Harley Quinn looks like again?’ Amber said.

Oh, fuck. Bel couldn’t remember at all. Was she in a superhero movie? Supervillain?

She opened her mouth and nothing came out.

‘Fishnets, bunches, hotpants and a baseball bat,’ Connor supplied. ‘Reflective of Bel’s complicated nature.’

Bel gave silent thanks to him, and that she’d gone for a spin on her forename as her alter ego.

‘Love it,’ Amber drawled, dragging on her vape pen and giving Connor an appraising, appreciative look. ‘What did you go as?’

‘Gomez Addams,’ Bel said, hastily, returning the favour.

‘Moustache, pinstripe suit,’ Amber said. Her eyes ran up and down him and Bel had to concede, his being superficially appealing was a useful distraction right now. ‘Want to join us, Connor?’

Bel opened her mouth, but Connor was there first:

‘I’d love to, but apologies for not stopping, I’ve got a to-do list as long as my arm. Nice to meet you, Amber. See you later,’ he addressed his Not Girlfriend. He paused. ‘Call me if you need picking up?’

Bel was, for now, brokenly grateful.

‘Sure. See you later, darling!’ Bel trilled, trying to keep the tense relief out of her voice.

‘Well,well done you,’ Amber said, as Connor cleared earshot range, and Bel’s heart rate started slowing. ‘He’sgorgeous.Where did you find him?’

‘Soho. Liked it, clubbed it over the head and dragged it back north,’ Bel said, as Amber gurgled.

‘He left his job?’ Amber said.

‘No, they let him move to remote, like me. He’s in finance.’ Bel waved her hand, ‘Pleasedon’t ask me what he does, exactly.’

‘I’ll never put you on that spot,’ Amber said. ‘When we’ve finished the bottle, I might make you tell me what he’s like in’– she cupped both hands round mouth to whisper– ‘bed, though.’

‘Oh, he’s an earthquake,’ Bel said, with a knowing look. ‘Never had better.’

Amber made anOh My Godswoonface. Bel smiled, sipped her flute and thought she’d be lucky to keep her lunch down.

‘You run this place? That’s so impressive, aren’t you twenty-something?’ Bel said, brightly changing the topic.

‘Thirty-five this month! I own it, but don’t admire me, I’m a rich kid. My family ran it first and my mum passed it on to me.’ She pushed a charm bracelet up and down her wrist, a distracted tic.

If Bel had thought Amber was any sort of soft touch, un-smart bimbo, an hour in her company had corrected that notion.

They talked Ci Vediamo, Amber’s career history, Bel’s concocted CV, which was in fact Shilpa’s: a first at Manchester Met in Fine Art.

With Bel making sure she was at turns effortful, interested, funny, sympathetic, and Amber insisting they moved on to piña coladas, the sense of spark was assured.

‘This has been so great, I can’t thank you enough,’ Bel said, when they decided it was time for Amber to check on her staff and Bel to find a carbohydrate.

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