Love Is.... Haley Hill

in of late, I knew it would be unwise to leave him unsupervised in a licensed premises for even the briefest amount of time.

      After I’d quickly changed my clothes, I looked down at the loose knit jumper and White Company trousers I’d selected, and wondered why I was dressing for the life I wanted rather than the one I had. I briefly considered digging out my old skinny jeans and Topshop T-shirts that I’d packed away in our spare wardrobe, but there was no time. I slathered on some lip gloss, tucked Rupert into his carry case, and set off to meet Matthew.

      Just as I walked out of the house, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen, half expecting it to be Victoria complaining that a stray leaf had blown into her espaliered apple trees or else Matthew telling me to meet him at the nail bar instead.

      As it turned out, it was an ex-client of mine, Harriet. She and Jeremy were the first couple I matched. But if I’d known seven years ago in the grounds of an eighteenth-century chateau in Versailles that I was committing to their relationship for a lifetime too, I might have reconsidered. Or at least insisted on some kind of matchmaker prenup.

      Harriet was sobbing when I picked up. ‘He’s done it again, Ellie.’

      I sighed. ‘Oh dear.’

      ‘I’ve just been through his receipts.’

      ‘Are you OK?’

      She sniffed. ‘No.’

      ‘So what is it this time?’

      ‘Three grand.’

      I’m not sure what was more disheartening. The fact that her husband Jeremy had spent three thousand pounds on strippers in one night. Or that Harriet, bred of Cheltenham Ladies’ College, had begun using the term ‘grand’ like a character from a Martina Cole novel.

      ‘Where?’ I asked.

      ‘The Windmill Club.’

      I tutted.

      ‘Can I see you, Ellie? I really need to talk this through.’

      I glanced down at Rupert. He wagged his tail. ‘Sure,’ I said, trying to sound as upbeat as I could.

      ‘I’ve got an hour or so before I have to pick the kids up. Where are you?’ she asked.

      ‘I’ll be at Barnes Bistro in ten,’ I said. ‘I’ll have a friend with me though if you don’t mind him chipping in? He’s a little eccentric but can be quite insightful sometimes.’

      She took a moment to reply. ‘That’s fine. See you there. Thank you, Ellie.’

      Matthew was seated at a table and talking to a waiter when I arrived.

      ‘I want the biggest Brie and Parma ham baguette you have,’ Matthew explained.

      ‘I’m afraid we only have one size of baguette, sir.’

      Matthew rolled his eyes. ‘Well, how big is it?’

      The waiter measured out a sizeable-looking baguette length with his hands. Matthew scrunched up his nose. ‘I’ll have two,’ he said, ‘and some fries. And a bottle of rosé.’

      I held my hands up. ‘I’m not drinking today.’

      Matthew grinned. ‘I wasn’t ordering for you, sweet-cheeks.’

      I ordered a mineral water and a seafood salad, then told Matthew that Harriet would be joining us.

      ‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘My first attempt at “me time” is being sabotaged by a whiney housewife.’

      I sat back in my chair and stared at him, trying to fathom what was going on under that bouffant quiff of his.

      ‘Are you OK?’ I asked.

      He looked up to the sky as if to ask why he had been saddled with such an unintuitive friend.

      I glared at him. ‘Of course I know you’re not OK. I’m just trying to decipher if you’re having a bit of a wobble, or if you’re about to totally go off the rails.’

      He laughed. ‘Don’t stress. It’s all manageable.’ His grin widened. ‘At least with a bottle of rosé.’ Then he snatched the bottle from the waiter and began pouring himself a glass.

      Once he’d finished his first baguette and most of the rosé, his mood seemed to settle. He even made a few jokes that weren’t entirely at my or the waiter’s expense. I speared the final prawn off my plate and looked around us. For once I hadn’t even noticed the small children and babies dotted around me. I hadn’t engaged a new mother in conversation, hoping her fertility might somehow rub off on me. I hadn’t even remarked about how cute the kids’ menu sounded. I glanced down at Rupert’s carry case and smiled. His eyebrows twitched and he let out a tiny yelp. He was in a deep sleep. I imagined him dreaming about chasing leaves and bounding around the courtyard. What a sweet little world he lived in, full of exciting things to discover and adventures to be had.