Page 72 of Good Sisters

‘He’s very … Italian-looking,’ Julie said.

‘I see the nose,’ Sophie added.

‘He … he’s … he’s got kind eyes,’ Julie stuttered.

‘Yes, and … and … he looks robust,’ Sophie said.

‘I’d say he enjoys his pasta.’ Julie started to giggle.

‘And tiramisu.’ Sophie snorted.

‘And cheese.’

‘And cream.’

They cracked up.

‘Piss off.’

Marco was, let’s just say, on the chubby side.

Julie wiped tears from her eyes. ‘And a lovely shiny head.’

Sophie creased over.

‘You’re the worst sisters ever.’ I tried to be annoyed, but their laughter was infectious and it was a welcome release from all the tension I’d been holding.

‘Sorry, Louise, but I had an image of some tall, muscly Italian hunk,’ Sophie said, ‘but he’s small, round and bald. It’s a bit of a surprise.’

‘I thought a hot Italian stallion had swept you off your feet for that one night of passion,’ Julie said, through her giggles, ‘but it was the Italian Danny DeVito.’

‘Danny DeVito!’ Sophie whooped.

We laughed until our stomachs hurt.

‘Sorry,’ Sophie said, when she’d caught her breath, ‘it’s justthat you always go for really good-looking, well-groomed, successful men and Marco is … different.’

‘I’m not going to lie, I was surprised myself. But I guess in my wine haze I found him attractive.’

‘Hang on,’ Julie said. ‘I know I’ve just been slagging you, but he’s probably really charming and he does have kind eyes and it doesn’t matter what he looks like as long as he’s a good person.’

‘And, on a shallow note, Clara looks like you – apart from the nose, which is his nicest feature.’ Sophie grinned.

Julie drained her wine and ordered another. ‘I’m coming with you,’ she said. ‘I want to be there when you meet Marco. You should not be alone.’

‘Yes! Me too. I’m coming. No way you two are leaving me out of this,’ Sophie said.

‘Don’t be mad, you’re all busy.’

Julie snorted. ‘Busy sourcing stupid bloody scarves and hats.’

‘Busy dealing with delusional young women who all think they’re going to be the next Gigi Hadid. I’d welcome a break.’

‘Let’s do it, Louise, come on,’ Julie said. ‘Let’s go and find Marco together. Remember how supportive you were when I thought Harry was having an affair and it turned out he was just going to Paris to meet Christelle for the first time? Well, I want to be there for you, like you were for me.’

‘And you let me live in your apartment rent-free when we lost everything. I want to support you in any way I can,’ Sophie added.

I cleared my throat to push down the emotion rising inside me. ‘Thank you. I’d love you both to come along. I can tackle anything with you two by my side.’

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