Perfect Strangers

He laughed, his blue eyes flashing.

‘Listen, can I get you another drink?’

‘Yes, that’d be nice, one of those silver things, please.’

Wow, he’s good-looking, she thought as she watched him move through the crowds. And rich enough to bid on a car he obviously didn’t even want. Her mother would be very pleased.

‘Soph, you’ll never believe it!’ Francesca rushed up to her, her eyes frantic. She looked close to tears.

‘What? What’s happened?’

Francesca held up her mobile. ‘I just spoke to Charlie. He’s had his briefcase snatched.’

‘Oh no. Is he okay?’

Francesca nodded and bit her lip.

‘Yes, he’s fine, but he’s shaken up, I can tell.’

Sophie pulled her into a hug.

‘It’s okay honey, as long as he’s not hurt, that’s the main thing.’

Her friend pulled back.

‘No, you don’t get it,’ she snapped. ‘That’s not the bad part – he wants me to go and give him my set of house keys.’ Sophie immediately saw that what she had assumed was teary concern for her fiancé was in fact fury at Charlie’s poor timing.

‘You’re not leaving?’

‘I have to, apparently,’ said Francesca, throwing her hands in the air. ‘He’s with clients from Hong Kong and he doesn’t know what time he’s finishing.’

‘Why doesn’t he just come to yours when he’s finished?’

Fran pulled a face and shook her head. Sophie had always thought her friend wore the trousers in her relationship with Charles, but it was clear now who was in control.

‘Come on, let’s go,’ said Francesca, turning towards the exit.

Just then, Sophie spotted Nick weaving back through the crowd holding two drinks in the air, and she caught Francesca’s arm.

‘Listen, Fran, do you mind if I stay? I can come out and find a cab with you . . .’

Francesca frowned. ‘I can’t leave you here.’

‘Why not? I’ll be fine.’

Over Sophie’s shoulder, Francesca spotted Nick approaching and her face twisted.

‘Oh, I see, it’s like that, is it?’ she said tartly. ‘It’s all right for some, isn’t it?’

Sophie knew she forgave her friend for too many tantrums, too many sarcastic remarks – at the end of the day, she was grateful that Fran did not abandon her when she moved out of Chelsea, and with it her old lifestyle. But this time she was going to put her foot down.

‘Come on, Fran. Don’t be like that. We’ve just got here.’

‘Fine. You stay and have all the fun,’ said Francesca bitterly before striding off.

‘Fran!’ called Sophie. ‘Don’t . . .’

‘Is there a problem?’ said Nick, handing her a drink.