Let’s face it, when you were a manky-lunged twenty-eight-year-old perilously close to your sell-by date . . . well, you weren’t exactly overwhelmed with lustful attention from the opposite sex.
‘What are you thinking?’ said Luke.
Ha, no chance.
‘Just wondering what I’d look like if I was eighty-three. I really hope I wouldn’t wear wrinkly old tights and ugly slippers.’
‘Me too. Especially the tights.’ As he said it, they both heard the sound of rapid clattery footsteps on the pavement outside. The next moment the doorbell rang: DINGDINGDINGDINGDINNGGG . . .
Hallie pressed the intercom. ‘Hello?’
‘Happy new yeeeeear! It’s us! Are you asleep?’
‘Well I was, but some idiots just rang the doorbell.’
‘Let us in! Let us in!’
‘Is this how old people feel when their noisy grandchildren come to visit?’ Luke’s tone was dry as they listened to what sounded like a herd of cows galloping up the stairs.
‘It’s worse. Noisy grandchildren haven’t usually downed seven pints of cider and a load of shots.’
‘Ta-daaah!’ The door flew open and six of her friends burst into the room. Bea, swaying on her high heels, held her arms out wide. ‘You said you’d come back to the party and you didn’t! So we thought we’d bring the party to you! Happy new yeeeeeaar!’
When she’d hugged and kissed everyone, Hallie said, ‘There’s wine in the fridge downstairs if you want to go and get it. And more glasses in the cupboard next to the sink.’
‘Why’s Luke here? Are you OK?’
‘I’m fine. He’s just been keeping me company. We watched the fireworks together.’
‘And I’d better be going.’ Luke rose to his feet. ‘I’m still on call. Getting a couple of hours’ sleep might be an idea.’
‘Bye. Thanks.’ Hallie gave a little wave while her stomach did a secret backflip. ‘See you again soon.’
‘Oh, you opened it!’ Bea had spotted the mini bottle of Moët. ‘And it’s empty – you drank it all!’
Confused, Hallie said, ‘Was it not meant to be drunk?’
‘It was really expensive,’ Bea wailed. ‘You were supposed to save it for a special occasion!’
‘Sorry.’ Hallie loved Bea to bits, even if she did sometimes fail to think things through. Because who knows how many special occasions some of us have left?
‘That’s OK, I forgive you. Don’t do it again, though.’ As Luke attempted to squeeze past her, Bea’s arm shot out, barring his exit. ‘Hey-hey-hey, not so fast, Dr Hilton. I think there’s something important you’re forgetting, don’t you?’
‘What?’ Luke looked baffled.
‘This!’ Throwing both arms around his neck, Bea planted a kiss on his unsuspecting mouth, and this time Hallie’s stomach did a much bigger and frankly jealous triple somersault.
‘Mwah.’ Beaming and swaying, Bea let him go. ‘Happy new year. Sorry, just had to do that! Couldn’t resist!’
Chapter 8
‘Look at this.’ Rory showed Tasha the text that had just come through on his phone: Mate, where are you? You’re missing a bloody brilliant party. Get yourself down here NOW!!!
‘Who’s it from?’
‘My oldest friend, Joe. Now watch this.’
Tasha watched as he began to compose his reply. It was five o’clock in the morning, and she was still struggling to believe the last seven hours had actually happened. What she’d expected to be an entirely uneventful New Year’s Eve had turned out to be the most eventful, most extraordinary, most utterly magical one ever. She felt as if she were in a dream.
OK, this really had better not be a dream. That would be too cruel.
Superstitiously, she pinched her left wrist, just to make sure. Ow, good.
Rory finished writing the text and angled the phone so she could read it: Joe, I’m not missing out on anything. I’m with an amazing, incredible girl. This is it, she’s the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. Will you be my best man?
Every centimetre of Tasha’s skin tingled as she read it. OK, the best man bit was a joke . . . maybe the third sentence was a joke too, but that didn’t matter. It was enough that he thought she was amazing and incredible.
Aloud, she said, ‘You’re going to frighten the life out of him.’
‘True.’ Rory pressed send.
‘Poor Joe.’
‘And I meant it.’ He looked at her. ‘In case you were wondering.’
‘You did?’ Zinnnggg . . .
‘Every word. I don’t even know how I know. I just know.’