'Not true. I gave you a nickname, didn't I?'

'Calling me Barbie was unforgivable. Even Barbie Babe was tantamount to kicking my dog.'

Mia knew that Tash was right. Barbie might have a great wardrobe. But even if Mattel did give her a white coat, gla.s.ses or even an astronaut costume, the Barbie doll was never going to be a feminist icon or a contestant on Mastermind. Mia searched around for something conciliatory.

'Barbie marries Action Man, doesn't she?'

'No. Barbie marries Ken, a eunuch, and they split after forty happy, costume-changing years. Action Man stays a confirmed old bachelor,' said Tash crossly.

'Not when I played with mine,' replied Mia.

Tash looked at Mia and searched her face for any hint of sarcasm or malice. She found none. The ludicrous nature of her situation hit her. It seemed pointless arguing with this woman about plastic dolls and things that had been said about a faithless, two-timing, b.a.s.t.a.r.d ex-fiance. Tash started to giggle. She feared she was clinically hysterical.

'I'm exhausted, can we call a truce?' said Tash.

Mia had never wanted a friend more. Delighted, she beamed at Tash, and then stunned the breath out of her by leaning in and giving her an enormous hug. Just when Tash thought it was impossible for her to sustain any more shocks or surprises, Mia burst into tears.

'Jesus, Mia.' Tash hugged Mia tightly and stroked her back, as Mia seemed to have no intention of loosening her grip. 'What's wrong? Chill, girl. Take a deep breath, and tell me what the matter is.'

'Everyone is always telling me to chill, to relax, and to have more fun. But you know what? It's not as easy as that. It's almost impossible to have fun, or to be fun, for that matter, if you are unhappy.'

'And are you?'

'Desperately,' sobbed Mia.

Once again Tash found herself in a position where she didn't know what to do or say next. She was not a fan or a friend of Mia's. She'd offered a truce; she had not expected full-on familiarity. She'd been longing for friendship for months, and there had been no sign that Mia was ever going to reciprocate the wish. But suddenly the ice maiden had melted, all over the settee.

Tash sighed. She had problems of her own. She knew what it was to feel alone and miserable. She had discovered that her fiance was fooling around with a girl whom she had considered to be a good pal. She knew about hurt and betrayal and desperate unhappiness.

So.

'Is this about Jason?'

'You know?' Mia was horrified. Had Jason been talking about them to Tash? She imagined Tash and Scaley cosied up. Tash offering an ear and advice as Jase confided in her that Mia had made a complete fool of herself trying to trick him into impregnating her. Tash would have loved that.

'I don't really know anything,' said Tash, immediately dispelling Mia's fears. 'It was just something Lloyd said about you two being a team, a couple, even though '

'Even though we're not a couple.'

'Exactly.'

'We nearly were. Last night I s.n.a.t.c.hed defeat away from the jaws of victory.'

'Isn't that supposed to be the other way around?'

'I meant what I said.'

Tash looked confused. Mia took a deep breath and weighed up the risk. The chances were she wouldn't be seeing much of Tash after this evening, not now that Rich had c.o.c.ked everything up, so if she confided in her it didn't have to be a big deal. And even if she did see Tash in the future, say, they kept in touch and at this moment (admittedly it could have been the alcohol she consumed), Mia could imagine stranger things than keeping in touch with Tash say they kept in touch, despite Rich having been a p.r.i.c.k, confiding in Tash didn't have to be a big deal.

Suddenly Mia saw Tash in a new light.

In fact, she saw everything in a new light. Tash's life wasn't perfect. Right now, it was pretty b.l.o.o.d.y miserable and through no fault of her own. And poor Ted and Kate, their boat wasn't exactly sailing fortune's seas at this precise juncture in time. Lloyd had talked to Tash about her and Jase; that showed a level of concern. A level of concern she hadn't extended to him when he was very much in need of some mates. She had been very dismissive of all of these people. She'd jealously resented any good luck and happiness that they'd enjoyed. She'd held the illogical notion that there was only a limited supply of good things to go around a limited supply of soul mates, a restricted quant.i.ty of babies, a ration of contentment, company and love. It was as though she believed that every engagement or birth her friends and acquaintances announced diminished her opportunities of attaining similar bliss. It was a ridiculous notion. Nonsense. Quite beneath the intelligence of a rational woman.

But, then, she hadn't been that intelligent or rational of late. How rational was it to plan to have a baby with your best friend and try to keep it from him? She'd been desperate and desolate. She was only a short step away from bitter and a bit barmy.

She needed to talk to someone, anyone, really. Only half an hour ago she would have thought that Tash was more anyone than someone, but something had changed. Tash had just broken up with her fiance, but she wasn't weeping and wailing or acting like a frantic shrew as Mia might have predicted from the young and immature Tash of her imagination. Tash was behaving with composure and dignity. She was even finding it in her heart to dig up some time and sympathy for Mia, although Mia knew she didn't deserve it. Jase liked Tash. Kate, Ted and Lloyd liked Tash. Rich loved Tash, despite his wandering d.i.c.k. There had to be something about her worth liking and, now the green scales of jealousy were peeling from her eyes, Mia had the first clue as to what those qualities might be.

'I came here to seduce him,' she started to explain.

69. Lloyd's Cavalry.

Tash and Mia were deep in conversation. It took until the end of the bottle of wine for Mia to explain exactly how much she longed for a child. It took another half bottle for Tash to pluck up the courage to suggest it wasn't a child per se that Mia wanted, but the whole shebang. She wanted a partner and a family. After another gla.s.s, Tash explicitly stated that, in her opinion, Mia wanted the partner to be Jason, and the whole pregnancy thing had been her subconscious trying to direct her.

Mia thought Tash was absolutely wrong way off the mark until they drained the second bottle. At that point Mia confessed that she'd had the same thought last night, but what should she do about it? Scaley must hate her now?

Tash and Mia were so deep in strategy and suggestion that they did not notice a new guest checking into the hotel, even though the tall, blonde Austrian woman with gamine limbs and tightly cropped hair was extremely striking.

Greta declined the offer of help with her bag. It was only small; she was only planning on staying until Sat.u.r.day. She asked for directions to Lloyd Walker's room and said, no, she'd rather they didn't inform him of her arrival, she wanted to surprise him. While, technically, this was a breach of hotel regulations, the receptionist was experienced enough to know this woman was not here to make trouble and she would be a welcome surprise guest.

Greta had had enough of sitting alone at home. Alone, it was too easy to feel hurt and vulnerable. It was her belief that the manufacturers of telephones put something in the handset of mobiles and land phones which distorted conversations. Conversations that were supposed to be jovial and encouraging, or conciliatory and tender, some-how transformed into conversations which were pitted with snide jibes and hostile demands. Greta wanted to put a stop to it.

It was a mistake for Lloyd to have come away without her. He was inclined to the maudlin and the sentimental. She understood that. He'd given a lot up to be with her, she knew that. And it wasn't easy, not for anyone. Of course, he lived with regrets, everyone did. But Greta did not believe that Lloyd ought to regret leaving his wife for her. Greta loved Lloyd. She loved him, very, very much. And she would make him happy again, if only he would let her. If he ever stopped feeling guilty and allowed himself to be happy again, she'd be by his side. And even if he never stopped feeling guilty, she would still be by his side. Because that is what she wanted, and that is what Lloyd deserved.

Greta knew that there was a reasonable chance that Lloyd would have called his ex-wife this week. He would have got drunk at some point (or, probably, at several points) and reasoned that it was a good idea to try to piece things back together with the mother of his child. He had said the same thing to her on a number of drunken occasions. That was the problem, when drink goes in, either truth or nonsense comes out, and it is sometimes hard to tell which is which. Greta knew that Lloyd wanting a reconciliation with Sophie was nonsense. Greta admitted that in a perfect world all marriages would be happy, enduring, fruitful marriages. The perfect world did not exist, not even in fairy tales. If it did, how come there were always so many step-parents in those old stories?

Logic would dictate that it was easier the second time around, and it frustrated Greta, who had a supremely logical mind, that it was not. It was a lot harder. The blissfully ignorant are a recognized body; no one ever talks about the blissfully informed. Greta had hoped that once the divorce came through, Lloyd would believe that they had a clean slate, but he did not. He argued that the only way he could start again was to go back.

He was wrong.

It was impossible to turn back time or to push water back under the bridge. The English were so fond of their funny little idioms and sayings, yet they did not heed them. Greta walked purposefully into the lift and pressed the b.u.t.ton for the second floor. She was here to tell Lloyd it was time to lay down his baggage and move on. While she was at it, she might mention that it was time for him to cut back on his alcohol units, too.

70. Tash's Advice.

When Mia first offered to share her room with Tash for the night, it struck Tash as bizarre. Only hours before she would have been surprised at Mia offering her a cup of coffee, let alone a lifeline. Tash briefly wondered whether she ought to feel wary of sudden friendships. After all, she now understood that Jayne's intimacy was calculated and had never been born of genuine affection. Indeed, the opposite was true. Jayne had faked a friendship so as to be in a position to hurt Tash. It made her shudder.

However, Tash's embryonic friendship with Mia seemed very different. For a start, it was born out of months of hostilities, rather than seconds of attraction. Tash did not know why that should be a comfort, but it was. She did, at least, know something of Mia. In fact, after several hours of talking she believed she knew an awful lot. Mia spoke with dignified honesty and a sometimes painful but always indisputable clarity.

Throughout the evening Mia indulged herself. She dredged up her and Jason's history and paraded it in front of Tash for inspection. She had never treated herself to such girlie comfort before. She explained how they'd suddenly and almost inexplicably split up at college. Their break-up was precipitated by a breakdown in communication, more than anything else. Mia admitted that no one had ever come close to satisfying her emotional, physical and intellectual needs in the way that Jason had.

'Jason's never dated anyone seriously either, has he?' asked Tash.

'No, he's a terrible tart.'

'Or, it might be that he is also struggling to find someone who comes up to scratch, after you,' suggested Tash.

Both the girls were lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, which was illuminated by moonlight. There was a long silence. Mia weighed up the potential of Tash being right.

'Do you think so?' asked Mia.

Tash turned on her side and propped herself up on her elbow.

'Go and ask him, Mia,' she encouraged.

It was three in the morning. The girls had talked all night. Hostilities had halted, and new allegiances had been formed. They were behaving as though they were in a Cabinet room at a time of great crisis. They had no concept of time and little concept of reality. Everything seemed to be topsy-turvy. That night, opportunity had turned into probability. Love had turned sour. Mistrust had turned to friendship. Anything was possible.

'What would I say to him?' Mia asked.

For the first time, for as long as she could remember, Mia wanted advice. She was at sea and wanted to get to dry land. She hoped and thought Tash had the skills to get her there.

'Just be honest, Mia. Tell him that the baby stuff was real, but not absolutely considered. Tell him you want to give it a go. Tell him you want to be a conventional couple. The way I see it you have already wasted years, what more have you got to lose?'

'Precisely nothing,' said Mia, as she climbed out of bed and pulled on her clothes.

'Good luck,' said Tash, as Mia quietly closed the door behind her.

Friday.

71. Something Blue.

Tash was relieved to see Mia go. Not only did she believe that Mia and Jason had a genuine chance of making one another happy, but also, from a more selfish point of view, she needed the s.p.a.ce. It had been useful to stumble across Mia's confusion and for Tash to dive into her problems, rather than have to face her own terror. But now, at precisely three fifteen on the morning of what ought to have been her wedding, Tash wanted to think about her own situation.

She ought to have been asleep dreaming of the best day of her life. Or, if she was awake, it ought to have been because of giddy excitement, not the crucifying ache that throbbed in her gut which was keeping her awake now.

How could he have done it to her? How could he have lied and cheated? And exactly what had he done to her? Was he having an affair as Jayne claimed? Or was it something in his past, still terrible but perhaps not quite so insistent? What did he mean when he said the kiss and the grope meant nothing? How could a kiss and a grope mean nothing? Was he referring to the kiss in the cinema that Mia had seen? Or was there another kiss and grope? The questions fell in and out of her mind. They jostled with one another, demanding consideration. Each question she answered only pushed another to the front. What sort of man had a ten-year s.h.a.g-buddy? What was it about Jayne that made Rich go back and back? What was it about her that meant he never wanted to stay? Why hadn't he told her about Jayne? Was she his back-up? Did he love Jayne? Did he love her? Did she love him? Did it matter either way?

Tash finally fell asleep at six in the morning, only to be awoken by Mia's alarm clock at seven. There was a split second when Tash's heart sang. It was her wedding day. Oh, my G.o.d, she was the happiest woman on the planet, and then almost in the same instant she remembered where she was sleeping and why, and her heart broke all over again.

She dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. She needed to eat breakfast. She didn't feel much that way inclined, but she had to call the Registrar and cancel the wedding and she had to talk to the chef and the maitre d'. Rich wouldn't think to cancel the arrangements; he'd had so little to do with making them. Too busy getting his end away. b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

The shame and disappointment overwhelmed her. Tash started to weep, but there was no one to wipe her tears, so they washed down the plug hole with the soapy suds.

Lloyd was waiting for her in the breakfast room.

'I'm very sorry, Tash,' he said, as he leapt up to hug her. Tash leant into his chest, grateful for the hug and the warmth of another body.

'Does everyone know?'

'Rich is in a very bad way. He came to my room last night to look for you.'

'I was with Mia.'

'I guess he didn't think of that.'

'No,' smiled Tash, 'I don't suppose it was expected.'

'Sit down. I'll get your breakfast.'

Lloyd scuttled to the buffet table and piled a number of pastries on to a plate. He grabbed a yoghurt and ordered some toast and fried breakfast from the chef. He wanted to be a help and would have been mortified to realize that he was appearing insensitive as he whistled the tune of 'Oh What a Beautiful Morning' under his breath. A song long banished to the deepest recesses of his mind, as long ago as junior school.

'You seem very perky, Lloyd,' said Tash, as she accepted the plate of pastries.

'Do I?' Lloyd was stricken. 'I'm so sorry.'

'Don't be,' Tash grinned. 'I'm not one for spreading misery. Hit me with it, what's going on in your life?'

Lloyd felt a little shamefaced in light of Tash's personal problems; on the other hand, he really, really wanted to tell someone. And Tash was the someone he wanted to tell.

'Greta flew in last night.'

'Wow!'

'Exactly. She flew all this way to see me. She said she was missing me.'

'And from the look on your face this morning, you've clearly missed her.'

'Yes, I had. I was confused for a while. I knew I was missing something. Grieving over a lot of things, but I didn't know exactly how much I missed Greta, not until last night.' Lloyd beamed. 'I thought I wanted Sophie back.'

'I've wondered whether that was the case.'

'I just wanted a fresh start, but Sophie won't give me that.'

'Or can't,' pointed out Tash.

'Yes,' conceded Lloyd. 'But Greta can, and she wants to. It's not that I'm swapping one woman for another.' Lloyd broke off and looked apologetically at Tash. He wanted her to understand the nuance of emotion.

'You're just trying to be happy, Lloyd. Good for you. Nothing would ever be fixed if you stayed unhappy and regretful for ever.'

'That's what Greta said.' Lloyd beamed again.

Tash realized that this was the first time she'd seen him throw out a genuine smile. It was so wide you could have driven a truck through it.

'We had a "big talk".' Lloyd pencilled inverted commas into the air with his fingers, clearly embarra.s.sed.

'That is so great,' smiled Tash. 'I'm only sorry there won't be a wedding for her to join.'