Miranda's Big Mistake - Jill Mansell [74]
Florence ran arthritic fingers over her haphazardly piled-up hair. Normally Miranda dealt with it, but this morning she had executed the task herself.
Actually, executed pretty much described the end result.
`It must be bad.' Florence grimaced. `I'm sure you don't make a habit of accosting strangers in the street, offering to snip them into shape.'
`We aren't in the street,' said Fenn. `And I gave up smoking six months ago. It's easier if I keep my hands occupied.'
`From what Miranda tells me, you certainly do that.' `From what Miranda tells me,' Fenn countered mildly, `you thought I was gay.'
Florence chuckled, unembarrassed.
`I'm an old woman. Male hairdressers always were in my day.'
`Well, I'm not. And you won't be calling yourself old by the time I've finished with you.' He watched her pull an eccentric assortment of combs from her hair and drop them into her lap. `Ready to go for it?'
`Why not?' Florence had endured months of badgering from Miranda, urging her to have her hair cut. `If you're sure you've got time.'
Like Bev and her beloved diary, Fenn never went anywhere without his scissors. As he slid them out of their case, he glanced across at the table, around which Miranda, Bev and Chloe were huddled like witches.
`I should think so. Anyway,' he assured Florence, `I'm a fast worker.'
Her eyes, bright as a bird's, met Fenn's.
`Miranda told me that too. Just do me a favour, would you, before you start?'
`What?'
`Take that champagne away from her.' Florence nodded in the direction of Miranda and the rapidly emptying bottle clutched to her chest. `At this rate she's going to spend the rest of her birthday flat on her back. Poor lamb,' she added sympathetically, `and not quite in the way she planned.'
Chapter 31
`Florence, hi. Is Miranda with you? Any chance of a word?'
Immediately recognising the voice at the other end of the line, Florence said cheerfully, `I'm so sorry, Miranda can't come to the phone right now, she's unconscious in the garden.'
`Blimey.' Danny Delancey sounded impressed. `All your own work, or did you get Lennox Lewis round to knock her out?'
`Cheaper than that. Two bottles of Moлt,' said Florence, `and one not terribly pleasant surprise.'
Will she be all right?'
`Oh, fine. Her friend Bev's out there now, covering her with Factor 15. So she's well oiled in every sense, ha! And Fenn's arranged for the restaurant to deliver the food here as soon as she wakes up. You could come over too,' Florence said brightly, `even up the numbers a bit. I'm sure Miranda will be pleased to see you… poor darling, so far it hasn't been the happiest of birthdays!'
Danny hadn't even realised that today was Miranda's birthday. Furthermore, he was struck by the difference between what Florence appeared to be saying and the tone of her voice. She was sounding distinctly jaunty.
`Hang on.' He frowned, mentally pressing Rewind. `What kind of unpleasant surprise?'
Oh dear, doing it again, thought Florence, and nobody likes a Told-you-so. Before Miranda woke up she really must practice being more sympathetic and less smug.
`Mr Right.' She glanced happily in the mirror at her chic new hairdo. `Seems he isn't so fantastic after all.'
`Really?'
Danny, she sensed, was being careful to keep his own voice neutral.
`I know, isn't it fabulous?' Sod diplomacy; if there was one thing Florence knew, for sure, it was that Danny was on her side. Gleefully she confided, `Turns out he was Mr Total Disaster all along.'
Uuurrgh.
Miranda, with enormous difficulty, peeled her eyelids open.
Uh oh, hangover. Now how had that happened?
More to the point, what on earth had been going on while she'd been er… resting her eyes?
Oh dear, as if waking up from a drunken stupor wasn't a bewildering enough experience on its own. Miranda, struggling into a half-sitting position, found herself in a far corner of the garden. The next moment she flinched as Danny