Miranda's Big Mistake - Jill Mansell [94]
`Oh, ha ha, very good.' Bruce sounded annoyingly buoyant, she realised - how she hated that mixture of sarcasm and joviality in his tone. `Though not with the gigolo, one presumes.'
One presumes. Honestly, young people today, where did they pick up this kind of language?
`His name is Orlando,' Florence replied coolly. `And he isn't a gigolo. Why are you ringing, Bruce? If you want to speak to Chloe, she's in bed.'
`I paid a visit to your house this afternoon-'
`I know. Chloe has the shop keys, they're perfectly safe.'
`Mother, will you stop interrupting? This is important. Your so-called boyfriend Orlando is cheating on you.' Long pause. Yesss, thought Bruce triumphantly. At last Florence said, `What do you mean?'
`Orlando. And Miranda. I saw them outside your house, bold as brass. They were all over each other.'
`Orlando and Miranda? My Miranda? All over each other, you say? I don't believe it!'
Florence was genuinely stunned.
`And I do mean all over each other,' Bruce went on sanctimoniously. `We aren't talking about a quick peck on the cheek, oh no, this was serious. And then - I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Mother - they disappeared together. Into the house.'
`And then they disappeared together into this very house?' parroted Florence, her eyebrows practically turning cartwheels as she kept Tom Barrett abreast of developments. `You mean, to have sex?'
Tom, still wearing his cassock and white surplice, refilled Florence's glass with bourbon and tut-tutted in a vicarish way.
Bruce said, `I'm afraid so.'
`But that's fantastic!' Florence whooped, unable to conceal her delight.
`What?'
`Thank you, darling, I'm so glad you rang! You really have made my day!'
Bruce was still spluttering when Florence unceremoniously hung up, cutting him off in mid-quack.
`Well, well, would you believe it? That wicked, wicked boy! To think I actually fell for all that guff about having to take Miranda home because she was drunk.' Florence's face was a picture. `And all the time they were… ha!' She clapped her gnarled hands with satisfaction. `About bloody time too!'
Chapter 39
It took a while for Miranda to orientate herself. Her watch said seven o'clock, but was that morning or evening? She had absolutely no idea how long she had been asleep.
Help arrived, moments later, in the form of Chloe. Carrying a tray.
Miranda peered at it, searching for clues.
`Hi. Is that…?'
`Breakfast,' said Chloe.
Ah.
`Only tea and toast. I didn't know if you'd feel up to much.'
Miranda didn't know either. It was far too soon to tell. `You've been asleep for fifteen hours,' Chloe went on, plonking the tray down.
Good Lord, really? Testing her head, Miranda discovered that it hardly hurt at all. How amazing, she appeared to have slept right through her hangover.
Excellent news!
Feeling more cheerful already, she hauled herself into a sitting position and took a noisy slurp of tea. Gorgeous, made just the way she liked it, two and a half sugars and tongue-numbingly strong…
Hang on a sec.
`Why are you looking at me like that?'
`It's Florence.' Chloe's valiant attempts at keeping a straight face weren't going well. `She'd, um, like a word.'
`Florence is up already?' Miranda was astounded. This was unheard of.
`She made me come and wake you up.'
`Why?' Miranda peered suspiciously over the rim of her Bart Simpson mug. Something was going on here and she couldn't for the life of her imagine what it might be. `Why?' she persisted. `Is Florence ill?'
Florence couldn't really be ill, she knew that. Otherwise, why would Chloe be smirking?
`I think she's just dying…' said Chloe.
What?
… of curiosity.' Another pause, then the words came tumbling out. `She wants to know all the gory details about you and Danny.'
`Me and Danny? For heaven's sake, what kind of gory details?'
`Well, who made the first move.' Chloe's shoulders were shaking. `How many times you… er, did it. Oh, and she especially wants to know if he's fantastic in bed.'
Miranda dropped her toast. Up until that moment her brain had been merciful, sparing her the