To look at him, who would ever think he could be lacking in self-confidence? People with carved cheekbones and perfect eyebrows should never be shy.
‘I’m glad you did.’ Oh my word, just listen to me; what a brazen hussy!
‘But now I really do have to go.’ He gave her one more brief kiss. ‘Before my sister dies of frostbite on our doorstep. What’s this?’
‘What’s what?’ Flo turned to try and see what he was looking at, but his hand stayed in her hair at the back of her head.
‘Don’t move, there’s something in here . . . OK, got it . . .’
They both looked at what he’d found: two grains of fried rice and a bit of noodle.
From the carpet. God, nits would have been less embarrassing. At least nits had a reason to be in her hair.
‘How did those get in there?’ Zander frowned, genuinely baffled.
‘I have no idea. I picked Jeremy up just before you rang the bell. He must have been stealing food off my plate and got some on his whiskers.’ Flo gave Jeremy a stern look and said, ‘No more leaving rice in my hair, OK? That’s gross.’
Jeremy twitched his ears at her. Blaming him was low, but Flo was sure he didn’t mind being her scapecat.
‘I’m going now.’ Zander put the offending items in one of the empty containers. ‘Definitely leaving this time.’
‘OK.’
He smiled. ‘Quite a night. Look, I have to fly to Toronto tomorrow on business. I’m going to be there for a couple of weeks. But as soon as I get back, I’ll be in touch.’
What was it she’d said earlier, about life taking an unexpected turn? Who would ever have predicted something like this happening? Best of all, when he said he’d be in touch, Flo knew he wouldn’t let her down.
Feeling all pink and glowy, she said, ‘Good.’
Chapter 14
Dear Rose,
Three things about me:
I adore my husband.
I can’t stand my mother-in-law.
I don’t look great in a bikini.
The truth is, my mother-in-law wishes I was prettier, more like her. She’s super-glamorous and I’m not. Her Christmas present to me was a cosmetic surgery voucher, and she’s already told me that once I’ve had the liposuction, she’ll give me another voucher for a nose job. (You can’t say she’s not generous!)
I’m happy with the way I look but fed up with the constant digs. Every year my in-laws pay for us to fly out to Barbados and join them at their holiday villa. I’m quite sporty and enjoy being active, but we’re expected to spend all our time with them just lying by the pool. By day we sunbathe, by night we eat and drink . . . and that’s it. I wish we didn’t have to go, but my husband says we’ll hurt their feelings if we refuse, and he doesn’t want to do that. Nor can we afford any kind of holiday ourselves.
Please help. I just don’t know what to do.
Love, Laura
Dear Laura,
Oh dear, I kind of feel sorry for all of you. It can’t be much fun for your mother-in-law, having to put up with a guest who is clearly bored out of her mind. Maybe she’s just being polite, inviting you to join them on their holiday, and would be secretly relieved if you said you couldn’t go.
Obviously her choice of gift is awful, but maybe it isn’t a personal dig; in her mind, she may genuinely be trying to help. Yes, I’m giving your mother-in-law the benefit of the doubt here, but some people just have different priorities in life.
Here’s my suggestion: tell your in-laws that you’re only able to take two weeks off work, and you’ve decided to use the time to have the plastic surgery. Then get a refund on the voucher and spend the money on a brilliant holiday for you and your husband. Tell your mother-in-law that you had the lipo, wait a few weeks, then proudly show off your new body. Tell her you’re thrilled with it. If she says she can’t see any difference . . . well, that’s her problem, not yours. (If she says she can’t see any scars, tell her that’s because the plastic surgeon was a genius.)
Have a great holiday!
Love, Rose
The queue for the check-in desk at the airport was ridiculously long, snaking like a maze and composed of hundreds of travellers in various stages of impatience.
Rory, already checked in for his brief flight to Zurich on a two-day business trip, was waiting to meet up with his colleagues. He watched as a small child took a bite of an egg sandwich, pulled a face and shoved it, unwrapped, into his Thomas the Tank Engine knapsack.
A group of men heading off on a stag weekend and keen to reach the bar in Departures were complaining noisily about the queue. Teenagers attempting not to look as if they were with their parents were plugged into their headphones and lost in a world of music. An overly loved-up couple, possibly on their honeymoon, were passing the time with their arms wrapped around each other, locked in an emotional embrace. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if they hadn’t also been kissing. Noisily.