‘Nairn . . . oh.’ Julia’s face cleared. ‘My grandmother’s at Nairn House.’
Flo nodded. ‘Beryl. She has photos of you in white frames lined up on her living-room wall. I see them every day.’
‘Right.’ Julia managed a wry smile. ‘Busted. I really am sorry.’
‘Just a wild guess,’ said Flo, ‘but was it Lena who put you up to doing this?’
Embarrassed, Julia nodded. ‘She’s a friend. Well, more a friend of a friend. Her chap Giles plays cricket with my husband. The moment she heard I belonged to an amateur dramatics group, she decided I had to come and see you and pretend I was Zander’s other girlfriend. The thing is, once Lena gets an idea into her head, she doesn’t give up. I didn’t want to do it, but she isn’t an easy person to say no to.’
‘I’ve noticed,’ said Flo.
‘She can be a bit scary, to be honest.’
‘I’ve noticed that too.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Julia said again.
‘It’s OK.’
‘From all the things Lena’s been telling us about you, we thought you were a complete monster. But you don’t seem . . .’
‘Very monstery?’
Julia pulled a face. ‘Well, yes.’
‘Lena doesn’t like me. Nor does Giles,’ Flo added.
‘Giles is ghastly. I can’t stand him.’
A new message popped up on Flo’s phone: Dying of curiosity here! Why did you want the pics?
Flo smiled; she’d asked Margot to pay a visit to Beryl’s flat, take the necessary photos and send them to her. She messaged back: Bumped into Beryl’s granddaughter and recognised her, that’s all. Thanks for doing it!
Seconds later, Margot’s reply appeared: My pleasure! Think I might become an international spy when I grow up.
A couple of hours after Julia had left, Flo’s phone rang.
‘Hello,’ said Lena. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m great. Why?’
‘I just wondered if you’d heard the rumours about Zander. I’m not a great one for spreading gossip, but I thought you should know what people are saying.’
‘Gosh. What are they saying?’
‘Well, I don’t know if it’s true, but apparently he’s been seeing someone else behind your back.’
‘Ah, you mean Julia,’ said Flo. ‘Yes, she came to see me tonight. It is all true.’
‘Oh!’ Taken aback, Lena said, ‘So . . . that’s awful, then. Poor you! You must be devastated.’
‘Well, I was a bit shocked when she first told me, but then I stopped and thought about it, and I decided it wasn’t so bad after all.’
‘Are you out of your mind?’ Lena sounded as if her eyebrows had disappeared into her hairline. ‘My God, he’s cheating on you! How is that not bad?’
‘Yes, but I love him. And I think he loves me. So I’m not going to let it bother me,’ said Flo. ‘I’m sure he’ll get tired of Julia soon, then I’ll have him all to myself.’
‘So he’s sleeping with another woman and you’re just going to put up with it? That is ridiculous,’ said Lena. ‘He’s making a fool of you!’
‘I don’t care,’ said Flo. ‘I’ll win in the end. He’s worth it.’
Outraged by the failure of her plan, Lena said, ‘Well you’re a complete loser,’ and furiously hung up.
Flo put the phone down and realised that she was smiling to herself. Was she turning into Lena? Talk about one-upmanship. And telling lies was naughty.
Oh, but sometimes being naughty was fun.
Arriving back at his flat at midnight, Zander unlocked the front door and knew at once from the mingled scents of burnt toast and Chanel No. 5 that Lena was home.
He experienced the familiar sensations of resignation, bafflement and despair. What must it be like to have a sister who didn’t perpetually make life difficult?
‘Hello! You’re late! Does it smell of burnt toast in here? I tried to cover it up with perfume . . . I don’t know why the stupid toaster always does that to me. Are you hungry? Would you like some toast? There’s a little bit of apricot jam left if you—’
‘I’ve spoken to Flo.’ Zander gave her a steady look as he took off his jacket. ‘I know it was you.’
As he’d known she would, Lena looked utterly mystified. ‘Excuse me? I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘Look, this is me. I know I’m not cheating on Flo. Who else would even want to make up a story like that?’
And as quickly as she’d denied it, Lena shrugged and said, ‘Oh please, she’s ridiculous. She wouldn’t even care if you did have an affair with someone else. Talk about pathetic. Anyway, I hate her.’