‘Oh, no, not the dog as well!’ said Gib, much struck by the story unfolding.
Kate nodded firmly. ‘Yes, a little terrier. Called Ruffy,’ she added as an afterthought. ‘And you see that’s why he’s never been able to forgive himself. He’s shut himself away from the world ever since then, unable to face anyone.’
There was a moment’s silence, interrupted by Phoebe bringing the coffee back to the table.
‘Kate has a very rich fantasy life,’ she explained kindly to Gib. ‘You’ll get used to it.’
‘Well, she convinced me,’ he said. ‘I think you should leave the poor guy alone and stop hassling him for an interview!’
‘I wish I could,’ sighed Phoebe. ‘I’m sure that in reality he’s really dull and avoiding interviews is just a way to try and make himself interesting. I think I’ll tell Celia that I’m following leads, and hope that eventually she’ll forget him.’
She held up the cafetière. ‘Who’s for coffee?’
‘Any messages?’ Kate asked hopefully, dropping her bag onto the table. It was over a week since their welcoming dinner for Gib, and she had come home to find Phoebe and Bella draped over the armchairs and nursing a glass of wine each as they grumbled about their respective bosses.
‘No,’ said Phoebe. ‘And before you ask, yes, the phone is working! No post has been discovered under the doormat, there have been no emails or telegrams or bunches of flowers that accidentally got delivered to the wrong address six weeks ago. You’ve got to face it, Kate,’ she said more gently. ‘Seb’s not going to ring.’
‘But why is he being like this?’ wailed Kate.
‘Because he’s vile,’ said Bella firmly. ‘Phoebe’s right. Seb is never going to love anyone but himself. It suited him to string you along for a while, but he’s obviously found someone new to exploit.’
Kate slumped into the sofa with a sigh. ‘You don’t think he was knocked over by a bus and lost his memory?’
‘No.’
‘Or had to go to his grandmother’s funeral on a deserted island where all the phone lines are down and they’re cut off because of storms?’
‘What, for six weeks?’
‘Well, maybe he’s part of some top secret government programme where he’s not allowed to contact anyone and—’
‘No, Kate.’
She sighed again. ‘I know, I know, it’s probably not that. You’re right, he’s not going to call.’
Her eye fell on the cordless phone that was lying half buried under a pile of papers at the end of the sofa, and Phoebe and Bella both jerked upright as she reached for it.
‘Kate, you are not going to ring him!’
‘I’m just checking to see if anyone else called,’ she said with dignity, pressing 1471. She listened to the number on the recorded message and her mouth drooped. ‘No, it wasn’t Seb. Some Bristol number I think.’
Phoebe dropped her head back with a groan. ‘That’ll be my mother. She wants to talk to me about Ben’s wedding.’
‘You’re not really going to go to that, are you?’ asked Bella curiously.
‘I’ve got to,’ she said. ‘Ben’s family and mine are so close, it would be like his sister not being at his wedding.’
‘Still, they can’t expect you to celebrate your fiancé marrying somebody else,’ said Kate.
‘They don’t know it wasn’t a mutual decision to break up,’ Phoebe confessed. ‘They were all so happy when Ben and I got engaged, I just couldn’t bear to tell them. I love Penelope and Derek. Ben’s parents are closer than any of my own aunts and uncles. They would have been devastated if I hadn’t pretended that Ben and I had both agreed that it wasn’t going to work.’
‘They must have had a clue when he told them he was going to marry Lisa, surely?’
‘He didn’t tell them immediately. They might have suspected something, but I think they’d prefer to believe that I’m quite happy with the situation, so if I don’t turn up they’ll realise immediately that’s not exactly the case.’
Phoebe ran her fingers through her hair in a hopeless gesture. ‘Then they’d be upset, and it would spoil the wedding for them, and I can’t do that to them. As it is, Penelope and Mum are desperately worried in case I’m embarrassed, or Ben is embarrassed, or Lisa is embarrassed …’
She sighed. ‘I think they’re secretly afraid that I might make some kind of scene when it comes down to it. I’m dreading going to the wedding on my own. It’s bad enough at the best of times. You know what people are like about single women in their thirties, and it’s going to be worse at this wedding since there’ll be so many old friends there who all knew me when Ben and I were together.
‘I know I’m going to end up looking like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. Either people are going to be edging warily around me and making sure any stray bunnies are safe, or they’ll be desperately sorry for me. I’ll spend my whole time being told cheerily that it will be my turn next,’ she finished gloomily.
‘It’s dire, isn’t it?’ said Kate with heartfelt sympathy. ‘It’s either that or being asked if it isn’t time you were thinking of getting married—like you’ve got some kind of choice in the matter!’
Bella had been pondering the problem. ‘What you need,’ she said, ‘is a man.’
‘Tell us something new!’
‘No, I’m serious. You should take a fabulous lover to show off at the wedding.’
‘Oh, yes, and fabulous lovers are so easy to find!’ said Kate sarcastically. ‘Didn’t you hear the announcement? It’s now official: there are now no single, straight men over thirty at all in London, let alone any with a modicum of intelligence and financial stability. And as for trying to find one not suffering from a morbid fear of commitment … forget it!’
‘Maybe not,’ said Bella, ‘but there’s nothing to stop Phoebe inventing one.’
CHAPTER THREE
FOR a moment there was utter silence, and then Kate looked at Bella with new respect. ‘That’s a brilliant idea, Bel!’ she said.
Phoebe was less impressed. ‘I don’t see that an imaginary lover is going to do me much good, however fabulous he is!’
‘The whole point is that he doesn’t seem to be imaginary,’ said Bella. ‘All you need is to hire someone to pretend to be a lover as fabulous as you want!’
‘You don’t mean hire a male escort?’ Phoebe stared at her, appalled. ‘I couldn’t do that!’
‘I’m not suggesting that you pick up some gigolo,’ said Bella reasonably. ‘I bet you’re not the first woman to need an escort in this kind of situation. There must be some reputable agencies that supply presentable types who are used to going along to weddings and official dinners. You’d have to pay for it, of course, but there wouldn’t have to be any funny business.’
‘Yes, and since you’re paying him, you could get him to say whatever you wanted,’ Kate added eagerly, picking up the idea and running with it with typical enthusiasm.
‘He’s bound to be good-looking if he works for an escort agency, so you could pretend he’s incredibly rich and successful, too. You can tell everyone that he utterly adores you, and asks you to marry him every day, but you’re not sure whether