Page 65 of Secrets at the Little Music Shop

Saskia threw me a glance I couldn’t have read with a dictionary. ‘In business, Jemima, one has to be reliable. Absolutely and without question, one has to be professional.’ Another look. ‘And, may I point out, this isn’t your problem or your concern and I would appreciate you keeping your rather pointy little nose out of things.’

Rosie and I gaped at one another. Saskia must be rattled for her insults to have become so overt.

After a moment’s consideration, Saskia looked me over again. ‘I know this is just a tiny bit personal, darling, but you’re not expecting, are you?’ My mouth fell so far open that from the side I probably looked like a basking shark. ‘You do seem to have put on some weight.’ I tried, but I couldn’t help myself and glanced down at my stomach. Saskia gave a small smile of triumph. ‘But then I shouldn’t think that darling Benedict could be responsible, he seems like a man with a rather more, how should I put it, subtle taste in women.’ Like an unconscious reflex she ran a hand through her hair. ‘And he really is the most adorable kisser.’

Did she think I didn’t know? Or was this a rather pathetic attempt to make me jealous? Or just paranoid?

‘I’m going to make some coffee.’ Rosie pressed Harry to me. ‘And possibly inhale some kind of glue. Chat amongst yourselves.’

‘Chicken,’ I hissed at her but she rolled her eyes at me and fled into the kitchen.

‘Oh, this is a shame, having to leave without the cards.’ Saskia pulled her Blackberry from her bag and consulted it. ‘Oh, well. And I find myself having to double my order, too. Rosie is certainly in for a busy weekend!’ A scythe-like nail pressed a button. ‘Please ask Rosie to excuse me, won’t you? I am rather pushed for time.’ A sideways smile. ‘Oscar has his induction today and I need to rush home for my hat.’

‘He’s five, Saskia. He’s starting school. For most mothers it’s check that his socks are level and that he’s got his lunchbox. You make it sound like the winners enclosure at Goodwood.’

This time I got a chilly stare. ‘The two have a surprising amount in common, Jemima. Although I do realise that the words “surprising amount” and “common” are used rather differently around you. Now excuse me.’ She turned around and lifted the Blackberry again, obviously using it to block me out.

‘I don’t know what you’re playing at,’ my voice was cool, my tone level. ‘But one day someone’s going to stop you, Saskia.’

‘Playing?’ Saskia tapped a couple of keys then snapped the lid down. ‘I wasn’t aware that life was a game, Jemima.’ She stood up, hands smoothing down the sides of her skirt where the silk had creased and ruffled deep gouges like ravines. When she spoke again, it was almost a whisper. ‘No. It most certainly is anything but.’

She swivelled so that her hair twisted a circle around her face, pulled a cutely clothes-matching purse from the table and headed for the door. I couldn’t put my finger on the emotion I felt when I realised there were tears smudging the edges of her mascara’d eyes.

After a decent interval, Rosie poked her head back through the door. ‘Thank God she’s gone.’ She flung herself down onto the sofa. ‘She’s trying to make out that I’m bonkers, what with her “I’m sure I told you”, and “but we arranged . . .”.’

Her emphasised speech was uncannily like Saskia’s. ‘Very good. Have you been practising?’

‘Yeah. I sit up at night doing Saskia impressions and feeding Harry lemons so that he’ll grow up associating her with bitterness. He’ll thank me for it when he’s eighteen and she’s trying to get into his trousers.’ Rosie took the baby from me. ‘Now. You’ve only apologised for leaving about, what, five hundred times, so I’d like at least another thousand and possibly some Hail-Mary-type penances, stat. Oh, but that’s after you tell me what’s put such a smile on your face . . . and if it’s anything Glaswegian-related then I’m afraid you can just bugger off back to Kilt-and-Haggis Land, ’cos I’ve got good money resting on you staying put back here.’

I said nothing but let my half-smile do the work for me.

‘Oh God, oh God.’ Rosie danced around the room, with Harry nearly making himself sick trying to keep focusing on her face. ‘You and Ben. Oh, this is just so fantastic!’

‘Steady on. We’re not exactly choosing curtains you know. It was only . . .’ I tailed off, realising I didn’t know what it was. ‘I’m not settling down with him. I stand by what I said, what I’ve always said; no men until I’m a person in my own right.’ But I could hear the hollowness of my words this time, and my smile had become so broad I was nearly swallowing my own ears. Ben and me. Yes.

‘But you must think you’re nearly there, otherwise you wouldn’t have done it, would you?’ Rosie twirled her son about in a makeshift waltz. ‘Years of no sex, and you broke it with Ben. That’s fantastic,’ she repeated, whilst Harry made threatening belching noises. ‘Am I allowed to tell Jason?’

‘Tell me what?’ Jason loomed over the threshold like a bad smell. Complete with a bad smell.

‘Jem had sex with Ben Davies.’

‘Rosie! I didn’t say you could tell him.’

‘Oh right, you try keeping anything from Mr MI5 here, especially if there’s sex involved.’ Her words were a little sour.

I looked from one to the other. ‘Rosie? Jase?’

They both shook heads. ‘Nothing. Honestly, Jem, nothing.’

‘Now, come on, give us the grief — did he tie you up? Gotta be a bondage kinda guy, trousers like he wears.’

‘Jason, you have to tie your women up otherwise they’d see sense and go home.’

‘Jemima, when they sees what I got in here—’ Jason clutched at his groin. ‘They don’t want to go nowhere.’

‘Shutupshutup.’ Rosie waved us both down with the hand not gripping Harry. ‘I want to know all about it. Where, how, why?’

‘And what wiv,’ Jason added, leeringly.

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