Miranda's Big Mistake - Jill Mansell [77]
`You have to have trust, that's the thing,' Miranda blurted out. `Absolute trust. No secrets. We don't have any secrets. from each other, do we? Because if we do, we should deal with them now. It's the only way.'
Greg smiled. The drinking session earlier had left Miranda pale, but he thought she'd never looked more beautiful. Hei dark eyes, huge and luminous, shone with emotion. Hei strappy little black dress fitted like a second skin. She smelled gorgeous.
And she was his, all his.
No way was he going to tell her about Chloe.
Not a chance.
`The only secret I have,' Greg said slowly, `is how much I love you. Because you'll never know.'
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it, touched by the tears glistening in her eyes. With his free hand, he took a small velvet box from his jacket pocket.
Her breathing quickened.
`Is that for me?'
`No, it's for that waitress over there, the one in the orange wig.'
Miranda no longer had fingers, she had bunches of pork sausages. Clumsily she struggled to open the lid. Oh God, this wasn't supposed to be happening… please, please let it be earrings…
The lid sprang open.
It wasn't.
Only one ring, and not the kind you'd wear in your ear. Actually, not even the kind you'd want to wear on your finger, Miranda had to admit.
Five minuscule diamonds and a lone emerald winked feebly up at her, set in a daisy pattern with a horrid gold filigree surround.
Oh dear, there was no getting away from it.
This was a truly tasteless ring.
`Don't worry if it's a bit big,' Greg assured her. `I can easily have it altered.'
It probably would be too big, of course, seeing as he had bought it for someone else. But Chloe had always claimed it didn't sit well next to her wedding band; she had simply given up wearing it, a couple of months into the marriage. It wasn't until after he'd moved out that he'd discovered it, at the bottom of his cuff link tin, stuffed carelessly out of sight like a spoilt child's unwanted toy.
Perfectly good ring like that, may as well make use of it,Greg had reasoned. Chloe might not have appreciated hi excellent taste, but he was sure Miranda would.
That wasn't such a terrible thing to do, was it? No, it was not.
It made perfect sense.
Nothing wrong with being thrifty.
`I don't know what to say. It's… incredible,' said Miranda.
The kitchen window was wide open and Florence's state of-the-art CD player teetered precariously on the sloping windowsill. Frank Sinatra serenaded the small but noisy gath ering beneath the mulberry trees. The threatened thunderstorm having failed to materialise, the night air was heavy with humidity and heat.
`I can't believe you're all still here,' Miranda declared `Don't any of you have homes to go to?'
As she made her way across the dimly lit back garden she almost tripped over a pile of empty wine bottles and Florence's discarded sun hat.
`Darling, it's your birthday!' Florence, definitely squiffy nudged Fenn and Chloe to move up and make way fo Miranda. `And we're all agog! So tell us, how did it go Except we've already guessed, of course, because it's ten o'clock at night and you're back here.'
`I gave him a million chances,' Miranda said flatly. `Not a dickie bird.'
`So that's that.' Bev shrugged. `He's a bastard after all.
`I could have told you that weeks ago.' Chloe sounded amused rather than upset.
`Does he know you know?' Danny's glittering dark eyes narrowed against the smoke from the candles flickering in glass bowls on the table.
Honestly, who does he think he is, the head of M15? Briskly, Miranda saluted.
`No, boss. Carried out your instructions to the letter, boss. Mouth' - she mimicked the action - `kept zipped.' `Well,' Fenn murmured, `there's a first.'
Bev was frowning.
`Didn't he wonder why you wanted to come back here?'
`I said I felt ill. Told him I'd see him tomorrow, when my hangover was gone.' Miranda picked up a half-empty glass and took an experimental sip. Actually, not bad. Maybe she was ready to start again.
`Aah, "Strangers in the Night",'