‘We can only try,’ said Amy, putting a grateful hand on Will’s shoulder. ‘We definitely owe Georgia that much.’
‘See you on New Year’s Eve then,’ he said finally. ‘Dress up.’
‘It’s a date,’ she said as she pulled up her coat collar and went back into the cold.
Amy huddled in the doorway of Daniel’s house, her shoulders hunched against the rain, which came down in hissing silver ribbons, backlit by the street lights. She had run all the way from High Street Kensington tube, but her speed hadn’t seemed to make any difference: her jeans were sticking to her legs, her thin trench coat – never the best choice for a torrential downpour – was sodden and heavy with dripping water. She felt like she’d been dunked in a swimming pool.
‘Surprise!’ she said in a monotone, as Daniel opened the door.
‘Amy! Good God, what have you been doing? You look like a drowned rat.’
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Just what I needed to hear.’
‘Sorry, come on, get inside before someone calls the coastguard.’
She caught a glimpse of herself as she walked past the mirror in Daniel’s hallway. Oh no, she thought. Her hair was plastered against her forehead in a kind of weird Hitler fringe and her mascara had run, making her look like a refugee from an eighties goth band. Great.
Daniel ran upstairs, taking two steps at a time, and came down with a towel, which he started rubbing over her head.
‘I didn’t even know you were coming.’
She had been playing phone tag with Daniel all day, but he wasn’t picking up, and she’d figured it was best just to come straight over. The bijou mews house just off the High Street had been a present from Daniel’s parents for his thirtieth birthday, and the bathroom still had that just-finished sheen. In fact, so did the whole house – Daniel was something of a neat freak – and Amy couldn’t help but notice how it was the polar opposite of Will’s flat: sleek and shiny, with designer furniture and stark black and white prints on the walls. Even the glossy magazines next to the toilet were arranged in a dentist’s-waiting-room-style fan.
‘I’m sorry, Dan, I couldn’t get in touch and I needed to see you.’
‘Is everything okay?’
She puffed out her cheeks and felt the emotion of the day start to get the better of her.
‘Hey, hey,’ he said, stepping forward to kiss her. ‘Come on, what’s wrong?’
‘Long story.’
‘How about I order Chinese and you can tell me?’
She nodded weakly and looked around the room as he went to the phone. There was a computer games console sitting on the coffee table, next to a copy of the Telegraph. She felt her nerves calm a little as she surveyed the picture of bachelor bliss. Arriving on his doorstep unannounced had unsettled her. She wasn’t even sure why – did she expect him to be entertaining a beautiful blonde on the quiet? – but still, she had been reassured to see nothing out of the ordinary.
She peeled off her wet jeans and put them on the radiator just as Daniel walked back into the living room with a bottle of wine and two glasses.
‘What’s this? Naked takeaway?’
‘I will if you will,’ she flirted back.
He smacked her bottom playfully and handed her a wine glass, which he topped up with red. Then they both sat back on the sofa and she spun around so that she could rest her feet on his lap. He stroked her bare legs and she felt the stress drain out of her.
‘I’ve told Gid we’ll be there about eight on Monday night.’
‘Monday night?’
‘New Year’s Eve. The party.’
‘Shit,’ she muttered. ‘About that . . .’
He sipped his wine and frowned.
‘What’s up? Got something better to do?’ he said playfully.
‘I don’t know about better. I have to be somewhere else.’