Miranda's Big Mistake - Jill Mansell [19]
`Of course.'
`And tons of make-up?'
`Well, ounces maybe. No need to go too mad.'
Was he laughing at her?
`And I could have my hair looking nice?'
Solemnly Daniel Delancey nodded.
`So they'd definitely know I wasn't ugly and desperate.' Miranda heaved a sigh of relief. `That's fine then, I'll do it.'
`Great.'
Belatedly, a horrid thought struck her.
`Oh! Except there's one bit you mustn't show.'
`Don't tell me,' Daniel Delancey intercepted her with a grin, `the stolen gloves.'
Miranda was indignant. `How did you know?'
`Tony and I ran through a few of the tapes this morning. That was his favourite bit.'
`Well, he can't use it,' Miranda said firmly.
`I did warn him.' Another broad grin. `I had a feeling you might say that.'
The bill for the meal was astronomical. Miranda determinedly didn't feel guilty; if Daniel Delancey was involved in making TV programmes, he must be rolling in it.
Anyway, there was the small matter of the other lie he had told her. A totally unnecessary lie, Miranda thought, considering that when he'd said it, his cover had already been blown.
`You still haven't told me why you and your landlady were out on the heath yesterday, drinking wine out of Waterford crystal glasses.'
He was driving her home in his scruffy BMW. Miranda, sitting next to him nursing the two glasses on her lap, cast a sidelong glance at his profile.
`And you haven't told me yet why you said you weren't married.'
The traffic lights ahead turned red. He braked and turned to look at her.
`Because I'm not.'
He sounded genuinely surprised. Fine, Miranda accepted that. You didn't have to be married to have a child.
`Okay,' she persisted, `but you were with your son yesterday. Why did you say you weren't his father?'
`Eddie, you mean? I'm not his father.'
Men, honestly. You couldn't trust them further than you could kick them.
`I heard him,' Miranda said pointedly. `He called you Daddy.'
Daniel Delancey's mouth was twitching. The lights turned green and he let out the clutch.
'Eddie's my sister's son. I'm his uncle. He was calling me Danny.'
Chapter 8
`Verity and I are throwing a small party this evening.' Bruce popped his head around the door of the back room, where Chloe was on her knees unpacking stained-glass lampshades. `Nothing elaborate, just a spur-of-the-moment thing-'
`You'd like me to look after Jason for a couple of hours?' Chloe looked up from her sea of bubble-wrap.
`No, no, Jason's staying overnight at a friend's house,' Bruce assured her. `That isn't why I mentioned it. Actually, we wondered if you and Greg would like to come along. Seven until ten, drinks and canapйs. Nothing elaborate, just a friendly gesture,' he explained, `to welcome our new neighbours.'
Since discovering last night that their new neighbours were a bank manager and his accountant wife, Bruce had decided a welcome party was definitely in order. It never did any harm to be on excellent terms, socially, with a bank manager.
`Well?' he prompted, wondering why Chloe wasn't saying anything. `Is that a yes?' To encourage her, he added, `We haven't seen Greg for a while.'
You're not the only one, thought Chloe, breaking into a light sweat.
Still, maybe this was the opener she needed. Bruce had to know sooner or later, and she'd been having palpitations wondering how to announce it.
Oh, by the way, Bruce, I've been dumped.
Chloe licked her lips. He was still peering down at her. `Bruce, the thing is, Greg and I aren't together any more. We've… um, separated.'
There, done.
Oh bugger, thought Chloe, as her eyes filled with tears. `Good grief.' Bruce took a step backwards. Tears weren't his thing at all. `Why?'
`Oh, you know,' Chloe mumbled. `Things just weren't working out.'
`Well, I'm sorry to hear that. Can't… er, be easy.'
It was Bruce's turn to nervously lick his lips. We must look like a couple of cannibals, Chloe thought.
`I'll be okay.'
He shifted from one foot to the other.
`Do you… um, want to talk about it?'
Alarmed, she shook her head.
`No, no, really, it's fine.'
Bruce was hugely relieved.