The One You Really Want

Except she hadn’t. As Nancy turned left out of the club and began to make her way towards the tube, Connor’s conker-brown Bentley pulled alongside the pavement. The passenger window slid down.

‘Hi, thought I recognised you.’ Eyes sparkling, Connor leaned across from the driver’s seat and beckoned her over. ‘Hop in and I’ll give you a lift.’

Oh God, difficult, difficult. Why did he have to be so nice? Why couldn’t she make herself not like him? What were those tap dancers doing in her chest?

‘No thanks, I’m fine.’ Nancy shook her head, frantically searching for a feasible excuse. ‘Um, I’ve got my return ticket for the tube.’

‘But I hate wasting tickets.’ Nancy pulled a regretful face. ‘And my mother always warned me not to accept lifts from strange men.’

‘I have sweeties too.’ Persuasively Connor patted the glove compartment. ‘Fruit pastilles, Dime bars - you name it, I’ve got it.’

‘Really, I don’t—’ As Nancy spoke, a lorry blasted its horn behind Connor, making her jump.

‘Come on, you’re holding everyone up.’ Leaning across still further, Connor swung open the passenger door. ‘They all think you’re a hooker now, haggling over the price.’

More horn-tooting. Oh, for heaven’s sake. Hastily clambering into the car, Nancy couldn’t help thinking that with her trainers, old jeans and wet hair escaping from her baseball cap, she’d be a low-rent hooker.

‘No.’ The cold night air had dried out Nancy’s lips; she fumbled surreptitiously in her bag for her stick of lipsalve.

‘Only I’ve been invited to the opening of a new restaurant on the King’s Road. God knows what it’ll be like.’ Cruising along, Connor squeezed the Bentley between two cabs as effortlessly as if it were a wafer-thin mint. ‘Full of braying Hoorays, probably, but you never know. Could be fun. Fancy coming along?’

‘No thanks,’ said Nancy, as casually as she knew how. What would be the point? Why was Connor inviting her anyway? Well, clearly because he didn’t have anyone else to ask at short notice.

‘No?’ Connor pretended to look hurt. ‘I’m not that awful, am I? Come on, don’t be mean, you can’t let me go on my own. There might be girls there after my body. Pestering me, pawing me, not giving me a minute’s peace.’

Now he’d turned to look at her. This was torture. Doing her best to breathe normally and not pant like a dog, Nancy repeated, ‘Apricot . . . lip . . . salve.’

Oh Lord, how was he proposing to find out? Nancy knew she couldn’t handle being kissed purely in the spirit of investigative research. What if she humiliated herself, got carried away, welded her body to his and shoved her tongue down his throat then refused to let go when he frantically attempted to prise her off?

‘Sshh, keep still. You wanted to know how it tasted.’ Willing her hand not to shake, Nancy carefully applied the stick of lipsalve to his mouth.

‘Mm. Mmm. Hey, this is fantastic.’ Noisily licking his lips, smacking them together with relish, Connor peered at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. ‘Does it make me look like a girl?’

It was colourless lipsalve. ‘More like a big old rugby-playing transvestite,’ said Nancy. ‘And the lights have gone green. Stop admiring yourself and drive.’

Because I fancy you so much I can’t stand it, and you don’t feel the same way about me. Because I don’t want to make a fool of myself by giving my feelings away. Because you might spot a girl there who makes your heart skip a beat.

Thank goodness it was dark in the car. Slowly breathing in the smell of apricot lipsalve and expensive leather upholstery, Nancy said, ‘Because you look like a big old rugby-playing transvestite.’ Then, after a pause, ‘I just feel like an early night, that’s all.’

For the next few minutes Connor drove in silence. As they approached Fitzallen Square he said, ‘Have I done anything to upset you?’

Nancy wondered how he’d react if she turned to him and said, ‘Actually, yes, you have done something to upset me. You see, I have this monster crush on you and it would have been really nice if you could have returned the compliment, but I know that isn’t going to happen because you don’t find me remotely fanciable, because I’m not your type.’

‘How can I be distant? I live next door to you.’ Feigning a yawn, Nancy said, ‘I’m just tired.’

‘So we’re still friends.’ Connor pulled up outside their adjoining houses and switched off the engine.

‘Still friends.’ And only friends, Nancy thought with a sigh of resignation. Just good friends and nothing more. Absolutely definitely nothing more.

‘Well, I’m glad to hear that.’ Connor relaxed visibly. ‘I’d hate to think I’d done something awful.’ Glancing up at the lit windows of Carmen’s house, he said, ‘Hey, is Rennie doing anything tonight? Maybe he’d like to be my date, seeing as you’ve turned me down.’

‘Just because you’re wearing apricot lipsalve,’ said Nancy, ‘doesn’t mean Rennie’s going to want to be your boyfriend.’

Following her into number sixty, Connor asked Rennie if he felt like going along with him for the opening night of the new bar.

Rennie and Rose had just finished watching Ninotchka. Brightening, Rennie said, ‘Will there be girls there?’

‘You’ve got that meeting with your manager tomorrow morning,’ Rose reminded him. ‘You told me you had to be up at seven.’

Rennie winked, touched by her concern. ‘Rose, I’ll make you a promise. If I’m not in bed by midnight, I’ll come straight home.’

Never happier than when she was helping others, Rose said at once, ‘Of course I can, pet. What is it?’

‘I’m at the Chinese takeaway around the corner from Carmen’s flat.’ Nancy was sounding frazzled. ‘The thing is, I’ve lost my credit card, but I think I know where it might be.’

Rose had been scrubbing the kitchen floor, tiled in black and white like a chess board on the slant. Wiping her wet hands on her apron she said, ‘Up in your bedroom, on the dressing table?’ because this was where Nancy usually left it. ‘OK, sweetheart, no problem, I’ll find your card and jump on the tube. Tell the Chinese people I can be there in twenty minutes, I’m sure they’ll understand—’

‘No, no, the takeaway isn’t the problem. Carmen’s paid for it.’ Nancy sounded as if she was smiling. ‘I’m just worried about where the card is. Now, I used it this morning to book theatre tickets over the internet and I think I might have left it on Zac’s kitchen table, because I was borrowing his laptop. But if I didn’t leave it there, it could be really lost and that means I’ll have to ring the card people and get it cancelled.’

‘Oh, you’d need to.’ Rose, who didn’t trust credit cards one bit, immediately began to worry; you heard such terrifying stories of thieves running up horrific bills on other people’s accounts. ‘Shall I ring Zac and ask him if your card’s there?’

‘I already tried. No answer. He must be out.’ Lowering her voice Nancy said, ‘Hang on, I’m just moving into the street so I’m not overheard. OK, this is why I need a favour. Could you take my spare key and go over there? Let yourself in through the shop, switch off the burglar alarm and just shoot upstairs to the kitchen. Zac won’t mind. Then you can ring me from there and let me know if you’ve found the card.’

It would be cold outside. Rose was still in the hallway pulling her woollen gloves on and tucking the ends of her scarf inside her coat when the front door opened. Rennie, back from a day of meetings with his manager and agent, was wearing a sea-green shirt, faded jeans and a thin gold chain round his neck in place of a scarf. How he’d never succumbed to pneumonia, she couldn’t imagine.

Rose enjoyed being teased by Rennie. The infamous pole-dancing club had featured on last night’s news.

‘Cheeky boy. There’s a baked ham in the fridge if you’re hungry, and a Dauphinoise that just needs heating up.’

Rose explained about the missing credit card, concluding, ‘I’ll be back in half an hour.’

‘It’s dark and it’s freezing outside.’ Rennie jangled his car keys at her. ‘Anyway, you shouldn’t be out on your own. You could get mugged.’