Page 56 of Cover Story

Bel offered them Old Fashioneds, and they were off.

If you were going to play-act, it was helpful to have an alluring stage, and Bel’s showy flat helped her feel as if she and Connor were the Gatsby aspirationals they were imitating. Bel spoke of a holiday in the Hamptons that Connor hadn’t attended and he described a sports car he once owned and they made separate histories sound entwined. Bel realised she and Connor didn’t have a single photograph of themselves together and thought: all Amber needs to do is ask to see a picture, and we’re cooked.

‘Do you own this place? It’s absolutely lush,’ Amber said, looking up at the candelabra on braided cord, after she and Rick had eaten a gratifyingly large amount of Greek lamb and potatoes, amid much praise for the cook.

(‘So good, Bella leaves me in the dust with her abilities,’ Connor had agreed, and Bel glowed before remembering all compliments tonight were voided by the treachery.)

‘God no, I don’t know what it would cost but think it’s well beyond our means,’ Bel said. ‘The rent is steep enough.’

‘I’ve still got my flat in Stoke Newington and I rent it out,’ Connor said. ‘My plan is a property pension. Do you two rent or own?’

Oh bravo, Bel thought, clocking what he was doing. She got up to clear plates.

‘Mmm, need another drink for this! Hah,’ Amber set her glass back down, which Connor refilled. Rick’s wines were strong and fruity and tasted to Bel like some potent fairytale sleeping draught. ‘I live rent-free in my flat in Didsbury but that’s the nepo baby thing I mentioned, Bella. And it’s tiny. I know, diamond clogs too tight.’

‘That sounds ideal!’ Bel laughed. ‘Nepo, not the clogs.’

‘It might be if my mum wasn’t … my mum.’

Rick wore a look of practiced neutrality, a war vet’s stare, having clearly heard this speech many a time.

Bel made an uncomprehending face. Connor made no eye contact while whispering sweet nothings to a bewitched Gertie, cleverly taking the pressure off.

‘You don’t get on?’ Bel said.

‘I call Gloria the tractor because she rolls over you and crushes you, no matter what you do. She’s got a Wikipedia, if you’re nosy, and it’s not easy reading,’ Amber said. ‘But, I took the freebies, didn’t I? So I should shut up. As my mother regularly reminds me.’

Bel had an urge to fill the quiet that followed and instinctively held back, while Massive Attack soundtracked the brief pause instead.

‘There’s a bigger place in Didsbury she might let us have oneday but it’s an Airbnb for now. I call my life the big carrot and the big stick. She needs someone reliable to run Cee Vee and that’s me. I’m not allowed to go get another job, on the hook waiting for the house. I should’ve said no when I was twenty-one, but now I’m used to the disposable income and I’m not skilled to do anything else.’

‘We’re not exactly badly off, though,’ Rick said, rubbing an eye. ‘Let’s not wash our stained pants in front of the nice new people, eh?’

‘I know,’ Amber sighed. ‘I’m being honest.’

It struck Bel they were collectively a good few shades drunker than they thought.

Bel smiled. ‘Please don’t fret about pant washing. We’ve all got family dramas.’

‘Some of our pants are more stained than others,’ Rick said, and Bel laughed.

‘I worry you’re all triggering Gertie,’ Connor said.

‘Do the Air Beeb guests behave themselves?’ Bel asked. ‘We thought about it for Connor’s flat but worried we’d get the lager lads.’

‘Mostly pretty good, actually. They’re not the problem.’ Amber dropped her voice. ‘It’s my mum’s friends having affairs and swinging and so on I can’t hack.’ She mimed two fingers to throat. ‘All meant to be respectable and married. Me and Rick call the house the Waitrose Brothel.’

‘Woah! There I was thinking Boomers behave better than us! What, do they book in saying they’re having a bunga bunga party?’

Amber helped herself to another scoop of ice cream and added the sultana garnish.

‘Damn you for making this, it’s too good.’ She spoke through a full mouth, hand held over it: ‘It’s always euphemisms about working in the city and “need somewhere to stay overnight” but here’s the thing: Ring video doorbell. Had to set it up due to the numbers of robbing scrotes. Unfortunately for them, I know who they’re turning up with. Get the alerts on my phone so it’s like …’ Amber gestured rollercoaster face pulling at her handset. ‘Why’s “Uncle” Brian with someone who isn’t “Auntie” Angela? Aargh.’

Bel pantomimed amazement.

‘If your mum does give us the house, I’m gonna ask for a deep professional clean,’ Rick said.

They moved to the sitting room, positioning Gertie on a beanbag. Bel had an urge to drag the chatter back to the Airbnb again, but this had already been such a win, she knew she shouldn’t be greedy.

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