Miranda's Big Mistake - Jill Mansell [119]
Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. All he had to do now was make sure nobody else found out that it had.
`So who is this chap you've been seeing?' said Chloe. Miranda shook her head.
`I can't tell you.'`Why not?'
`I just can't, okay?'
Chloe gazed in horror at Miranda's reflection in the mirror.
`Not Greg!'
`Oh, come on, do I look that stupid? Of course not Greg.' `Who, then?'
`Wait until Monday.' Miranda had been insulted quite enough for one night; she certainly didn't need another snotty lecture from Fenn. 'I'll tell you then, I promise.'
Either that, or emigrate.
The phone rang at seven thirty the next morning while Miranda was on the loo. Typical. Knickers at half-mast, she almost broke both legs crashing downstairs to catch it on the third ring, because third rings were lucky.
Snatching up the phone in the nick of time, she gasped, `Yu-yes?'
`Hey, heavy breathing, my favourite kind. Don't stop, do some more.' Miles sounded cheerful. `You know, you could charge fifty pee a minute for that.'
Did you finish with Daisy?' It was no good, she simply couldn't be laid-back and casual about it - she had spent the night wide awake and with her heart on springs.
`Still trying. I'm doing my best but she isn't taking it terribly well.'
`What's she doing?' Miranda struggled to haul her knickers up; not easy with only one hand.
`Trashing my flat.' As Miles spoke, there was a crash in the background. `Jesus, and I'm supposed to be out of here by eight.'
Miranda felt dreadful, as if it were all her fault. He had to be at Silverstone for the all-important qualifying laps and now, thanks to her, he had this to contend with, a madwoman smashing up his home.
Another louder crash made her jump.
`I'd better go,' said Miles.
`Good luck.'
He sounded amused. `With the practice laps, or getting rid of Cruella de Vil?'
He's doing all this for me, thought Miranda, her heart bounding like a gazelle.
`Both.'
There was a click on the line as someone picked up the extension.
`That's her, isn't it?' screamed a hysterical voice. `You're bloody talking to her now! How dare you DO THIS TO ME, YOU BAST-'
Abruptly the line went dead. Miranda put down the receiver and pulled up her knickers. There was no point trying to ring back - all she could do was go off to work, say nothing about this to anyone, and wait.
Nine hours later, Chloe let herself into the empty house and read the note Florence had left on the table out in the hall:
Darling Girls,
Have been whisked away by a wicked vicar with a fetish for old women in support tights. Gone to Edinburgh, back in a week. Don't do anything too naughty while we're away!
Florence had taken on a whole new lease of life since she started seeing Tom. And it was all thanks to Greg, thought Chloe, marvelling at the sneaky tricks fate could play.
She made herself a cup of tea, tore the wrapper off a Wagon Wheel and wandered through to the sitting room, dying to examine her reflection in the mirror above the fireplace and admire her new, improved hair.
Hooray, it still looked great. All day in the shop, customers had been complimenting her on the cut. Now, swinging her head this way and that - and watching the hair swing too - Chloe experienced a surge of gratitude towards Fenn. The 1960s Shetland pony look had gone for good; he had improved her beyond recognition and boosted her confidence no end.
And she knew he loved Thai curries. Maybe if he wasn't doing anything tomorrow afternoon she could make one for him as a way of saying thank you.
Still busy swishing her hair from side to side, Chloe picked up the ringing phone.
`Hello?'
`I know you're the one he's been seeing,' hissed a furious female voice, `but you're not having him, okay? He's not yours, he's mine, all mine.'
Click, brrr.
Chapter 48
Chloe had never been on the receiving end of an anonymous threatening phone call before. Shaken, she realised