On arrival at Primrose Café, I bought a mug of tea and went in search of Sophie. I found her sitting on the upstairs terrace, peering at her phone over the top of her enormous, black, beetle-like sunglasses. She looked up and smiled as I arrived.
‘Hi,’ I said, ‘sorry I’m late. Your puppet guy in Abbots Leigh had a window to see me this morning and I was there a little longer than expected.’
‘Ah, Henry, he was nice. Although, he did go on about…’ she paused and tapped her phone against her lower lip thoughtfully, ‘…stimulation through simulation, was how he put it.’ She wagged a finger at me. ‘So watch out.’
‘Well, he was strictly business this morning.’
‘Like you’d notice if he wasn’t.’ She laughed and looked again at her phone. ‘And you’re not really late. I was a bit early. I ordered you a fish finger sandwich on wholegrain.’
‘Brilliant, thanks.’ I sat down.
‘Sorry.’ She nodded towards her phone. ‘I’ll just be one second.’ She tapped the screen. ‘There. Done,’ she said. ‘So,’ she took a deep breath. ‘First things first: Jon’s girlfriend. Who is she and what’s she like?’ She made the enquiry casually enough, with no trace of the distress she had shown on Saturday night. Her expression now revealed nothing more than intense curiosity.
‘No idea, I’m afraid.’ I picked up my tea.
‘Oh, come on,’ she urged.
‘I know nothing,’ I said simply.
‘I don’t believe that for a minute,’ she grinned. ‘You two are as thick as thieves.’
‘Not about this,’ I said, sipping my tea, my hurt feelings at being shut-out by Jon now resurfacing.
‘Ooh, you sound a bit clipped,’ she said, still smiling. ‘What gives?’
I made a face and replaced my mug on the table. ‘We had a bit of a falling-out on Saturday.’
Her smile instantly transformed into open-mouthed disbelief. ‘You and Jon?’ She laughed uncertainly. ‘You’re winding me up.’
I leaned forward, placing my elbows on the table and resting my chin on my hands. ‘I’m not,’ I said quietly. ‘It was actually quite bad.’
‘Bloody hell, I just don’t know what’s going on at the moment,’ she said, her face aghast. ‘And you didn’t sort it out yesterday?’
‘Things got worse on Saturday when I tried to sort it out.’ I looked at her miserably. ‘So he hasn’t really left me anywhere to go.’ She sat back in her chair and looked at me; her eyebrows, just visible above her sunglasses, now knitted in puzzlement. I picked up my tea again. ‘It’s nothing for you to worry about. It’s my problem.’
‘And it was over his new relationship?’
‘It was over me mentioning his new relationship; which I know I shouldn’t have done. But then he wouldn’t let me apologise and when it was time for me to go home, he was actually quite cutting.’
Sophie shook her head. ‘Cutting?’
‘He made some dig about me always talking gibberish. I forget his exact words. But he was determined to stay angry with me and by the end of the evening, I just thought fine.’ I smiled sadly. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Doesn’t it?’ Sophie raised her eyebrows in surprise.
‘Well, it didn’t feel great at the time but if he doesn’t want it mentioned then I can do that.’ I shrugged. ‘He probably won’t give it another thought.’
‘I doubt that.’ Sophie delved into her bag and took out one of her plastic cigarettes, holding it up apologetically. ‘Still trying,’ she smiled. ‘So, who is she?’
‘Who?’
‘His girlfriend. When did they get together?’
I sighed. ‘I really know less than nothing. Jon hasn’t told me one word about her. Craig spotted the pair of them in a restaurant. Miriam gossiped to me. That’s how I know.’
‘And that’s it?’
‘’Fraid so.’
‘That’s no bloody good.’ She banged her fist lightly on the table. ‘We need details.’
‘Well, my chances of getting any are now nil. And,’ I added, noticing Sophie chewing on the end of the faux cigarette, as if formulating a plan, ‘I would seriously recommend against any digging on your part. He clearly doesn’t want to talk about the relationship.’ She continued to chew. ‘Sophie?’ She looked up. ‘I don’t think you should ask Jon about his girlfriend.’
‘As if I would!’ I eyed her sceptically. ‘I wouldn’t,’ she insisted.
‘And don’t hassle Miriam, either.’ At that her lower lip protruded. ‘She’s got enough on her plate.’
‘Like what?’
‘Not sure.’
Sophie rolled her eyes. ‘You,’ she said, ‘are shit at gossip.’
‘I know.’ I sighed.
She was silent for a moment and then reached across the table, patting my hand. ‘Don’t worry about Jon,’ she said quietly. ‘You’ll see him at book group next week, so that’ll be a chance for the pair of you to sort things out, if you haven’t already.’
I forced a smile. ‘I’m not worried about him. I’m sure everything will be fine,’ I said, attempting to sound blasé. ‘Anyway, enough about me and everyone else. How are you? I was worried about you on Saturday.’
She smiled grimly, put a hand to her cheek and bit her lip. ‘God, I made such a tit of myself, didn’t I?’
‘I don’t think anyone saw it like that.’
‘Oh, shut-up,’ she laughed. ‘Having a rant and then running off crying? If that doesn’t count as making a tit of yourself, I don’t know what does.’ She lowered her glasses and winked at me. ‘But you’re a love for trying to make me feel better.’
I smiled. ‘Look, the only person who made an idiot of themselves on Saturday was Eleanor Black.’
Sophie shook her head. ‘Can’t agree with you there,’ she said, repositioning her sunglasses. ‘She didn’t shout back and, brace yourself, she graciously accepted my apology yesterday.’
My jaw dropped. ‘You’ve spoken to her?’
‘Don’t sound so shocked. I phoned her yesterday morning. I got her answerphone. So I left her a message. I didn’t expect her to call me back but she did.’
‘But why did you call her in the first place?’
She looked both puzzled and surprised. ‘I was a real bitch to her, Alice, and, besides,’ she picked up her coffee, ‘I couldn’t leave what I’d done hanging over David and the business, could I?’
I blinked. ‘And she was OK about everything?’
‘Well, she sounded strained, like actually she wanted to kick the shit out of me. I mean, she certainly wasn’t Mother Theresa about it or anything. But she said she just wanted to forget about it all and that she would never mention it again. Asked me to tell David that too.’
I looked at her. ‘You know why that is, don’t you? Has David told you what happened after you left?’
She looked up sharply from her coffee. ‘No. I just thought she was being a grown-up and may have some genuine feelings for David after all.’ She sighed. ‘Made me feel even worse, actually. Thought I may have misjudged her and the situation a bit. I’ve been doing that a lot lately.’ She looked at me and took a thoughtful drag on her plastic tube. ‘But anyway, what happened?’
I recounted the tale of Damario, whilst Sophie appeared alternately appalled and delighted. When I finished, she shook her head and grinned. ‘That’s just…’ Her voice trailed away and she leaned back in her chair, tilting her face towards the sky. ‘David’s just…’
‘He’s lovely,’ I said. ‘And his integrity levels astonish me. I just wish he’d find the woman he deserves. And I also wish he could be assertive enough day-to-day, like he was on Saturday night, to find someone good enough for him and go for it.’
Sophie ceased her contemplation of the sky and turned her face towards me again, her eyes still hidden behind her sunglasses. ‘He deserves the very best,’ she said quietly, ‘and nothing less. As do you,’ she smiled. ‘Oh and look,’ she pointed over my shoulder, and I turned my head as a waitress emerged onto the terrace carrying my fish finger sandwich and a salad for Sophie, ‘here comes lunch.’