Miranda's Big Mistake - Jill Mansell [15]
you'll never guess what kind of car he drives.' Her dark eyes flashed with renewed outrage as the words tumbled out. `Only a BMW.'
Fenn tried not to smile. Poor Miranda, she was positively fizzing with indignation. All her illusions, so brutally shattered.
`Well, it happens.' His tone was mild.
`I gave him a scarf and that pair of gl-' in the nick of time she stopped herself, `er… glasses, an old pair of sunglasses.'
Nodding slowly, Fenn said, `I see, sunglasses. Always useful.'
`I can't believe I was so stupid. The whole time he must have been laughing at me. Can you believe it?' Miranda seethed. `A bloody BMW.'
`So did you say anything to him yesterday?'
`Well, a bit, but his little boy was there. Anyway, I've thought of a whole load more things to yell at him today.' In fact she had lain awake half the night coming up with bigger and better insults. In the end there were so many she'd had to write them down. `Look, here's my list.'
It was a big list. Fenn could just imagine her standing over the poor fellow in the street, bawling, `Wait, wait, I haven't nearly finished yet!'
`Well, good,' he told Miranda mildly. `But I'd prefer it if you confronted him in your own time, not mine.'
He wasn't there at lunchtime.
`Look on the bright side,' said Bev, whom Miranda had dragged along for moral - and physical - support. `At least you won't have to share your lunch any more.'
This didn't console Miranda. There was a nasty feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. She was beginning to suspect she'd blown the whole operation.
`I bet he's moved to another pitch.' Gloomily she shoved her hands into her pockets. `Damn, I should have kept my mouth shut yesterday.'
There again, keeping quiet had never been her forte. Bev was just relieved that she'd be getting back to the salon with her expensive false nails intact. She wrapped a consoling arm around Miranda's shoulders.
`Hey, cheer up. Maybe you've frightened him into going straight.'
By ten to six the last client had left. Miranda was in the back room unloading the tumble dryer and folding a mountain of parmaviolet towels - the Fenn Lomax signature colour - into neat piles.
Well, neatish.
When Bev put her head around the door there was an odd expression on her face.
`Someone's here to see you.'
Miranda looked at her. It was actually a really weird expression; Bev seemed half enthralled, half perplexed. `Who?'
`He didn't say. And he doesn't know your name either, he just asked to speak to the girl with the magpie hair.' Hastily, because Fenn would only give her grief if she didn't, Miranda semi-folded the last of the towels before bundling them up on to the shelf. She hadn't mentioned it to Fenn - well, you don't, do you? - but one of his clients this morning had come into the salon with her son, who had
shown definite signs of interest in her. He'd been good fun. Good-looking, too. And - Miranda had discovered - he was a policeman!
She'd always had a bit of a weakness for men in uniform.
And now he's off duty, she thought with a rush of excitement, he's come to find me again.
Whisked away from your workplace, hmm, very Officer and a Gentleman, daydreamed Miranda. And how apt, seeing as he actually was a police officer!
Although maybe not a terribly bright one, if he hadn't even remembered her name.
Hup, the last of the towels flew through the air, landing - more or less - on the top shelf.
`It's okay, I think I know who it is.' Eyes shining, Miranda pushed her magpie hair behind her ears and presented herself to Bev for inspection. `Do I look all right?'
`Fine,' Bev was still bemused, `but-'
`Don't be surprised if he picks me up and carries me out of here,' Miranda fantasised happily. `You can all clap and cheer if you like. Oh, but don't say: Is that a truncheon in your pocket or are you just pleased to see her? because it might be a truncheon and that would be really embarr-'
`Will you stop wittering on and get out there?' Exasperated, Bev gave her a hefty