The One You Really Want (36 page)

‘Sshh, keep still. You wanted to know how it tasted.' Willing her hand not to shake, Nancy carefully applied the stick of lipsalve to his mouth.

‘Mm. Mmm. Hey, this is
fantastic
.' Noisily licking his lips, smacking them together with relish, Connor peered at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. ‘Does it make me look like a girl?'

It was colourless lipsalve. ‘More like a big old rugby-playing transvestite,' said Nancy. ‘And the lights have gone green. Stop admiring yourself and drive.'

‘Come with me to this opening night.'

‘No.'

‘Why not?'

Because I fancy you so much I can't stand it, and you don't feel the same way about me. Because I don't want to make a fool of myself by giving my feelings away. Because you might spot a girl there who makes
your
heart skip a beat.

Thank goodness it was dark in the car. Slowly breathing in the smell of apricot lipsalve and expensive leather upholstery, Nancy said, ‘Because you look like a big old rugby-playing transvestite.' Then, after a pause, ‘I just feel like an early night, that's all.'

For the next few minutes Connor drove in silence. As they approached Fitzallen Square he said, ‘Have I done anything to upset you?'

‘No.' Her fingernails dug painfully into the palms of her hands.

‘Sure?'

Nancy wondered how he'd react if she turned to him and said, ‘Actually, yes, you
have
done something to upset me. You see, I have this monster crush on you and it would have been really nice if you could have returned the compliment, but I know that isn't going to happen because you don't find me remotely fanciable, because I'm
not your type
.'

Well, maybe some outbursts were better kept to yourself.

Aloud she said, ‘Of course I'm sure.'

‘Only you seem a bit . . . I don't know, distant.'

‘How can I be distant? I live next door to you.' Feigning a yawn, Nancy said, ‘I'm just tired.'

‘So we're still friends.' Connor pulled up outside their adjoining houses and switched off the engine.

‘Still friends.' And
only
friends, Nancy thought with a sigh of resignation. Just good friends and nothing more. Absolutely definitely nothing more.

‘Well, I'm glad to hear that.' Connor relaxed visibly. ‘I'd hate to think I'd done something awful.' Glancing up at the lit windows of Carmen's house, he said, ‘Hey, is Rennie doing anything tonight? Maybe he'd like to be my date, seeing as you've turned me down.'

‘Just because you're wearing apricot lipsalve,' said Nancy, ‘doesn't mean Rennie's going to want to be your boyfriend.'

Following her into number sixty, Connor asked Rennie if he felt like going along with him for the opening night of the new bar.

Rennie and Rose had just finished watching
Ninotchka
. Brightening, Rennie said, ‘Will there be girls there?'

Connor thought about it. ‘There is that possibility.'

‘In that case, sounds like my kind of bar.' Rennie hauled himself up from the sofa.

‘You've got that meeting with your manager tomorrow morning,' Rose reminded him. ‘You told me you had to be up at seven.'

Rennie winked, touched by her concern. ‘Rose, I'll make you a promise. If I'm not in bed by midnight, I'll come straight home.'

 

‘Mum, could you do me a massive favour?'

Never happier than when she was helping others, Rose said at once, ‘Of course I can, pet. What is it?'

‘I'm at the Chinese takeaway around the corner from Carmen's flat.' Nancy was sounding frazzled. ‘The thing is, I've lost my credit card, but I think I know where it might be.'

Rose had been scrubbing the kitchen floor, tiled in black and white like a chess board on the slant. Wiping her wet hands on her apron she said, ‘Up in your bedroom, on the dressing table?' because this was where Nancy usually left it. ‘OK, sweetheart, no problem, I'll find your card and jump on the tube. Tell the Chinese people I can be there in twenty minutes, I'm sure they'll understand—'

‘No, no, the takeaway isn't the problem. Carmen's paid for it.' Nancy sounded as if she was smiling. ‘I'm just worried about where the card is. Now, I used it this morning to book theatre tickets over the internet and I
think
I might have left it on Zac's kitchen table, because I was borrowing his laptop. But if I didn't leave it there, it could be really lost and that means I'll have to ring the card people and get it cancelled.'

‘Oh, you'd need to.' Rose, who didn't trust credit cards one bit, immediately began to worry; you heard such terrifying stories of thieves running up horrific bills on other people's accounts. ‘Shall I ring Zac and ask him if your card's there?'

‘I already tried. No answer. He must be out.' Lowering her voice Nancy said, ‘Hang on, I'm just moving into the street so I'm not overheard. OK, this is why I need a favour. Could you take my spare key and go over there? Let yourself in through the shop, switch off the burglar alarm and just shoot upstairs to the kitchen. Zac won't mind. Then you can ring me from there and let me know if you've found the card.'

‘OK pet, I'll do that. Give me the number for the alarm and I'll go straightaway.'

 

It would be cold outside. Rose was still in the hallway pulling her woollen gloves on and tucking the ends of her scarf inside her coat when the front door opened. Rennie, back from a day of meetings with his manager and agent, was wearing a sea-green shirt, faded jeans and a thin gold chain round his neck in place of a scarf. How he'd never succumbed to pneumonia, she couldn't imagine.

‘Rose. Are you sure they've offered you a job at Spearmint Rhino?'

Rose enjoyed being teased by Rennie. The infamous pole-dancing club had featured on last night's news.

‘Cheeky boy. There's a baked ham in the fridge if you're hungry, and a Dauphinoise that just needs heating up.'

‘Where are you going?'

Rose explained about the missing credit card, concluding, ‘I'll be back in half an hour.'

‘It's late,' said Rennie. ‘Come on, I'll give you a lift.'

‘Really, I'll be fine,' Rose protested.

‘It's dark and it's freezing outside.' Rennie jangled his car keys at her. ‘Anyway, you shouldn't be out on your own. You could get mugged.'

‘And then who'd slice the ham and heat up the Dauphinoise?'

Rennie's green eyes sparkled. ‘There is that too.'

It was as warm as toast inside Rennie's black Mercedes. Rose, feeling as cosseted as the Queen, stroked the wonderfully comfortable leather upholstery and carefully fastened her seat belt. Glancing up, she saw Marjorie Brough-Badham standing stiffly at the window of number sixty-two, gazing down at them.

Rose couldn't resist giving her a regal little wave. Marjorie didn't wave back. Feeling snubbed, Rose watched her turn away from the window. Next moment the curtains were swished shut. It was like a door being slammed in her face. Well, that tells me, thought Rose as Rennie fired the ignition and ear-splitting music blasted through the speakers.

‘My goodness, what a racket.' Rose shuddered and reached forward to turn it down. ‘Who's singing
that
?'

‘Me,' said Rennie. ‘We're choosing tracks for the new album.'

‘Oh pet, I'm sorry. I'm sure it's lovely.' Patting his arm, Rose said, ‘Now put your seat belt on.'

In the car it took only a couple of minutes to reach Levine Street. Zac's shop was in darkness as Rennie pulled into a free space across the road.

‘I won't be long,' said Rose.

‘I'll come with you. Can't stand waiting in cars.' Rennie hopped out of the driver's seat. ‘Besides, I want to see how Zac's getting on with my scary jacket.'

In the shop doorway Rose peeled off her gloves and took the key from her pocket. Peering at the numbers written on her hand, she carefully repeated them aloud and took a couple of deep breaths because other people's burglar alarms were always a bit nerve-wracking.

Once inside, she found the box easily enough and keyed in the code. Phew, done. Now she could relax.

‘Hey, how about this?' Rennie was gleefully holding a shimmering silver shift dress decorated with huge purple lip-prints against himself. ‘Does it suit me?'

‘Put that down,' Rose scolded. ‘Zac doesn't want your grubby fingerprints all over his clothes.'

Rennie raised a playful eyebrow. ‘Actually, I think you could be wrong there.'

Rose did her best not to blush. When Nancy had told her that Zac was that way inclined, she'd been shocked. It was one thing seeing people on the TV who were gay, like Dale Winton and that little leprechauny Irish one, but somehow it had never occurred to Rose that she might know a homosexual in real life.

Frankly, if she weren't so fond of Zac she might have felt a bit funny about it.

Rennie was now investigating a pair of white trousers trimmed with black pom-poms. Rose, chivvying him towards the stairs, said, ‘Come on, you. Nancy's waiting to hear if we've found her credit card.'

As they climbed the staircase Rose noted with approval that before leaving the flat Zac had left a couple of lights on in order to deter burglars. The kitchen was to the left, with the door closed. Hearing a faint scuffling noise, she realised that Zac had left Doreen at home.

‘Honestly, what a hopeless guard dog,' Rose chided. ‘Not a single bark.' Raising her voice before opening the door in order not to startle the little dog, she called out, ‘It's all right, sweetheart, only me!'

The next moment her heart leapt into her throat as the door was abruptly yanked open. With her fingers already closed round the doorhandle, Rose found herself yanked along with it. Catapulting into the kitchen, she collided with Zac who had never looked more petrified in his life.

‘Jesus, oh my
God
,' Zac gasped. ‘
Rose!
What's going on?'

There was a frying pan clutched in his right hand. Her own heart racing, Rose clasped her chest and stammered, ‘I thought the flat was empty . . . Nancy told me you were out.'

‘I could have killed you.' Zac was hyperventilating, his face chalk-white and his hands trembling violently. ‘I thought you were a burglar. If you hadn't called out I'd have hit you over the head with this.'

The frying pan was Le Creuset, no laughing matter. Wobbly with relief that he hadn't swung it at her, Rose said, ‘Oh pet, I'm so sorry. Could I sit down for a moment, get my breath back?'

‘Um . . . well, I was just on my way out.' Zac shifted awkwardly, evidently not keen on the idea.

‘Sit down, Rose.' Taking charge, Rennie steered her towards the kitchen table and pulled out one of the chairs. ‘Nancy rang you, but there was no reply.' As he said it, Rennie's gaze flickered from Zac to the silver mobile phone lying on the table. ‘She tried your mobile too, but it was switched off. Where's Doreen?'

‘What? Oh, in the bedroom. Having a little sleep.' Wiping his perspiring hands together, Zac blurted out, ‘I still don't know what you're
doing
here.'

‘Oh sweetheart, what must you think of us?' Rose's forehead pleated apologetically. ‘Nancy's lost her credit card. She thought she might have left it here in the kitchen. Have you seen it?'

‘No.' Wildly Zac shook his head. ‘Credit card? No, definitely haven't seen it. Sorry. Right, was that all? Only I really do have to go out!'

Rennie, sauntering over to the far side of the table where a slew of papers and magazines were scattered, began picking up each one in turn -
Vogue
,
Harpers
,
Car Weekly
- and flicked through them. Nothing. Then he moved Zac's laptop, which lay open and switched off next to a couple of discarded coffee mugs.

The credit card, which had slid beneath the laptop, was revealed. Clasping her hands, Rose exclaimed, ‘Oh thank heavens, there it is!'

Zac looked relieved too. Relieved, thought Rennie as he passed the card over to Rose, but still downright twitchy.

‘Good, good.' Zac began making chivvying gestures in an attempt to persuade Rose out of her chair. Hurriedly he said, ‘Well, if that's all—'

‘OK if I use the loo before we head off?' Sliding past him, Rennie made his way swiftly across the kitchen.

‘No!' yelped Zac, lunging after him. ‘
No
, that's not the bathroom—'

Too late, he caught up with Rennie as he pulled open the door.

‘
Oh God
,' Zac groaned, slumping against the fridge and covering his face.

‘Sorry, my mistake.' Rennie beamed at him over his shoulder. ‘I thought it was a bathroom. Turns out it's a broom cupboard. And you'll never guess what else you've got in here.'

A sound like a mouse being strangled issued from Zac's throat. Concerned, Rose said, ‘Whatever's the matter, pet?'

‘You know when customs officers open the back of a lorry and dozens of illegal immigrants come tumbling out?' Rennie's tone was conversational. ‘That's just how I feel now.'

Rose was bemused. ‘What?'

‘Come on out,' said Rennie. ‘It can't be comfortable in there.' He opened the door more widely and Rose's mouth dropped open as Brigadier Brough-Badham emerged from the broom cupboard.

‘Good gracious. Oh my
goodness
,' Rose gasped. ‘What's going on? Zac, do you know who this
is
?'