Miranda's Big Mistake - Jill Mansell [149]
`Suing the six-year-old?' said Fenn.
`No, the manufacturers of the pogo stick, for not warning him that if he pogoed, he might fall off.'
`She's amazing in the flesh,' Bev confided to Johnnie when he phoned half an hour after Magdalena's arrival. `So glamorous, even with her head tipped over a sink, and the smoothest neck I've ever seen - damn, there'sanother call waiting, so what time are you coming round tonight?'
`Seven thirty. Six hours to go.' Johnnie grinned, he couldn't help it; these days he was so happy, he'd taken to counting the hours like a teenager. `Shouldn't you be taking that call?'
`Let them wait. I'd much rather talk to you.'
`Don't let your boss find out.'
Since there was no chance of that happening, Bev wasn't scared.
`Fenn's locked away in the VIP room with Magdalena Rosetti. Getting up to goodness knows what.'
`Lucky Fenn.' Johnnie laughed, then added, `But I'd rather be locked in the VIP room getting up to goodness knows what with you.'
Finally, after a couple more minutes of playful banter, Bev whispered, `Better go now… love you… 'bye,' and took the call that was, irritatingly, still hanging on waiting to be answered.
Honestly, talk about inconsiderate. Was making an appointment to get their fringe trimmed really the high point of some people's lives?
Had they never heard of true love?
`Yesss, the Fenn Lomax salon, how may I help you?' Bev said smoothly in her best don't-mess-with-me-I'm-thereceptionist voice.
`Well, well, at long last,' drawled a woman, employing similar don't-get-uppity-with-me-I'm-the-operator tactics. Will you accept a reverse-charge call from a Miss Chloe Malone? She needs to speak to a Miss Miranda Carlisle.'
`Miss Carlisle isn't here, she's on her lunch break.'
Reversing the charges? What was going on? Fenn wasn't going to be thrilled when he heard about this. Bev thought fast, then said graciously, `But I'll accept the call.'
The operator, sounding bored and not in the least grateful, sighed and said, `Putting you through.'
`Chloe?'
`Bev?'
`Chloe, what' s happening? Miranda's not back from lunch yet, but I can take a message for her.'
`Oh. Right. Okay.' Chloe's voice was high-pitched and she sounded distinctly on edge. `Can you tell her I think I'm in labour, so if she could make her way to the hospital after work, I'll meet her there?'
`You think you're in labour?' Bev was mystified. `Good grief, don't you know?'
`I probably am. It's hard to explain… oh God, and there are kids with skateboards banging on the glass…'
Fenn, emerging from the VIP room, tapped Bev on the shoulder and said, `Coffee for my client, please. Black, two sugars.'
Not even hearing him, Bev frowned into the phone - banging on the glass? - and said, `Hang on, where are you?'
`In a phone box on Dempsey Street, in Barnes. Look, I'm really sorry about having to reverse the charges, but-'
`A phone box?' echoed Bev, appalled. `God, you can't give birth in a phone box - too unhygienic for words!'
Fenn, about to tap Bev on the shoulder again, stopped and stared at her.
`Who are you talking to?'
`And they smell of wee,' Bev went on, wrinkling her nosein disgust. `Chloe, if you're in labour, you really should ge to a hospital, they have clean sheets there and everything - oh, hang on a sec.' Realising that she was the focus o-Fenn' s attention, Bev apologetically covered the receiver `It's Chloe,' she stage-whispered. `You know, Miranda'; friend. She wanted to let Miranda know - ooh, ouch!'
Fenn snatched the receiver out of her hand before she could finish the sentence. His jaw set, he said tightly, `Chloe what the hell is going on?'
Charming, thought Bev, bend my finger right back, why don't you? And don't even think of saying sorry, oh no just gaily inflict a bit of GBH then barge in on some phone conversation that has absolutely nothing to do with you
'Tell me where