Page 59 of One Bed

‘I’m not seeing your psychic, Golly.’

‘Why not?’ Golly asked, genuinely perplexed. ‘Why wouldn’t you want to know what your future holds?’

‘I’m hoping my future will be the same as it is right now. Writing, reading…’ Bea folded her arms and tapped her foot, instantly irritated when Golly stuck her finger in her mouth and mimicked gagging.

Bea knew she was going to regret her next question but couldn’t stop it leaving her mouth. ‘And what is wrong with my life?’

‘It’s more boring than watching bowls,’ Golly retorted. ‘You don’t see anybody, you don’t date anybody, the only person you everreallytalk to is me…’

‘I talk to other people,’ Bea protested. ‘I’ve been remarkably social this weekend.’

‘When I say talk, I mean open up. We’re not meant to be alone, Beatrice, we need friends, and you, more than most, need someone to confide in.’

She’d talked to Gib and opened up to him a little.Huh.So that was weird. She didn’t second-guess herself with him, talking came naturally. He knew more about her than most. More, in some ways, than Golly did.

‘And, child, I’m happy you are having your engine revved. I was worried your guava had closed up.’

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was why Bea never touched that particular fruit.

Bea looked around, hoping that no one had overheard Golly’s observation. Her lady parts weren’t something she wanted to be discussed in public. Or anywhere.Ever. ‘Will you please keep your voice down? And stop commenting on my sex life!’

‘You haven’t had a sex life up until this week.’

Gaaaah!

Golly grinned, placed her palms together and bowed. ‘When blue-moon events happen, they will be spoken about.’

‘Oh,shut up!’

Golly laughed, delighted she’d managed to rile Bea. She sipped her drink and raised one perfectly pencilled-in eyebrow. ‘What did you come to talk to me about, Bea-darling?’

Bea closed her eyes, trying to remember why she’d stormed across here. Oh! Right. The bed situation. Man, this was going to be fun.

It was her turn to act, just a little. ‘I’msosorry to hear about your couch, Golly.’

Confusion. Excellent. Exactly what she was aiming for. ‘What couch?’

‘The delightful Art Deco one that was in the cottage? Jack was just telling me his assistant made a mistake and instead of ripping the fabric off another couch, he ripped the fabric off yours and binned it,’ Bea lied, without blinking. After all, she’d been trained by the best.

Golly’s red lips dropped open, utterly dismayed. ‘No!I love that couch. It took us years to source that fabric, it was printed in the thirties and inspired by Sonia Delaunay’s designs. Youhaveto be mistaken, Bea-darling, Jack would’ve told me.’ She looked around for Jack, a little frantic.

Got you!

Bea placed her fists on her hips. ‘So you didn’t burn the couch because it had woodworm?’

Golly’s mouth snapped closed, and she wrinkled her nose. It was her classic ‘I’m busted’ look. ‘Um…’

‘Um … you lied to me?’ Bea said. ‘Um … you had the couch removed from the cottage to ensure that Gib and I shared a bed? Um … you’re a matchmaking, interfering old hag?’

Golly sniffed and lifted her nose. ‘Matchmaking and interfering I’ll agree with, but I object to you calling me a hag!’ She gestured to her outfit, a scarlet wraparound ballgown that highlighted her incredible cleavage. On what planet was it fair that Bea’s seventy-year-old godmother had better boobs than her?

‘What were you thinking, Golly?’ she quietly asked.

‘I thought I’d give you and Gib a little push. He’s a lovely boy, and you’re a lovely girl and you both need a bit of fun.’ Golly’s smile turned wicked. ‘And judging by what I saw on the dancefloor, pushing you together seems to have worked. So, how did it happen? Did he barge in on you in the shower? Did you see him in a towel? Did you find yourself spooning in the night?’

Yes, yes, and yes. But that wasn’t the point!

‘You’ve read, and edited, far too many romances!’ Bea cried. ‘We’re both in our thirties and we’re perfectly capable of managing our own affairs!’

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