Miranda's Big Mistake - Jill Mansell [114]
`I mean it,' Danny went on. `Any other time. You'd been hurt by Greg. You're still hurt.' He shrugged, to show he understood. `These things take a while, they're bound to. But, say, in the future, when you're over him… well,' this time he smiled, `if you asked me again then, I wouldn't say no.'
Hey, Mr Romantic! Am I really hearing this?
Miranda gazed blankly at him, trying to figure out what it was she felt like. Then it came to her. Like a six-year-old endlessly nagging her parents for a puppy and being fobbed off with `Not now darling, maybe next year.'
Her whole body tingled with indignation. This was outrageous. What a nerve. Talk about patronising. Did he seriously think this was making her feel better?
A consolation bonk in the year 2003, Miranda marvelled. I must make a note of it in my diary.
Honestly, he was lucky there were innocent children about. Otherwise she'd be tempted to rip his eyebrows off.
Chapter 46
Miranda heaved a sigh and took a swallow of orange juice, wishing it was wine. Danny's infuriating remarks had really got to her, but at the same time she knew that - in his own way - he was actually trying to help. He wanted to make her feel better, to boost her poor battered confidence. It wasn't his fault he'd got hold of completely the wrong end of the stick.
`You don't understand.' She made an effort to be patient. `I'm not upset about Greg, or about you. I'm perfectly happy, I promise.'
In reply, Danny glanced at the handkerchief screwed up in her fist.
`I had dust in my eye!' She hurled it back at him. `For pity's sake, Danny, I'm happy! Why can't you believe me?'
`Fine, fine.' He made calm-down movements with his hands.
A woman at an adjoining table whispered excitedly to her husband, `Ooh, lovers' tiff.'
`He's not my lover.' Miranda swivelled round, keen to put the couple straight on the matter. `I do have a lover, but he's not with me tonight, and to tell you the truth, he's a damn sight better-looking than this one here.'
The couple looked startled.
`Miranda, stop it.' Danny sounded reproachful rather than offended. `No need to get carried away.'
`I'm not, I'm just stating a fact.' Miranda's smile was triumphant. `You don't believe me, do you? You think I'm a sad old spinster with no one in her life, but actually you couldn't be more wrong. I do have a boyfriend, as it happens, and he's crazy about me, so there!'
Oh dear, a bit juvenile, that last bit, the kind of playground riposte that usually accompanied sticking your tongue out and going naa naa na-na naa.
Danny clearly thought so too.
`You don't have a boyfriend,' he said slowly, as if breaking this news to a particularly dim psychiatric patient. `I do.'
`Miranda-'
`I'm seeing Miles Harper.' Having blurted the words out without thinking, Miranda spun round in horror to see if the couple at the next table had overheard. Phew, they'd gone, scuttled out in a hurry by the look of things, without even finishing their drinks.
Oh well, she'd started so she may as well finish. Anything, anything, Miranda thought wildly, to wipe that irritating, pseudo-sympathetic look off Danny's face.
It did. He started to laugh instead.
`I am.' Heroically suppressing the urge to scream, she lowered her voice. `I couldn't say anything before because obviously it's a bit of a delicate situation. But it's true, Danny, I swear it is. He came into the salon and kissed me in front of everyone. Then he took me out that night and the next day we went to Wimbledon… and every spare
moment since then, we've been together… He's brilliant, and it isn't just a fling, either. He's serious!'
Oh well, a bit of embroidering the facts never did any harm, did it?
`Funny, I haven't seen any mention of this in the papers,' said Danny.
`I told you.' Miranda spoke with pride. `It's a delicate situation.'
`Yet you went to Wimbledon together, you say?' `Nobody recognised him. He was in disguise.'
`Centre