Page 61 of The Devil's Torment

We arrive at the restaurant a few minutes early, but by the time the greeter shows us to our seats, Eloise and Briony turn up. We order mimosas (a virgin one for Imogen), and as soon as the server retreats, the interrogation begins.

“Okay, missy, spill.” This from Eloise. “And don’t even think about leaving out any details. We want to hear everything. Length, girth, you know, the whole enchilada.” She grins. “And whether you even left the bedroom.”

“We can get to all that.” Briony waves her hand in the air. “What I want to know first is how DefCon 6 panned out.”

“DefCon 6?” Eloise wrinkles her nose, then presses her palm to Briony’s forehead. “You been smoking weed again?”

“I donotsmoke weed,” Briony protests. “Not since university and that one bad joint. Remember? When I ended up in A & E and had to explain to my parents why I missed an important exam?”

“Oh, yeah.” Eloise laughs. “I’d forgotten about that. Never seen a face turn as green as yours did.”

“It’s not funny, Eloise,” Briony says, pouting. “I could have died.”

“A slight over-exaggeration,” Eloise replies, ever the practical one. “But can we get back to the question? DefCon 6?”

I quickly update them on my visit to Anthony Davidson’s offices, and Nicholas’s Neanderthal reaction to me being out of his sight. When I end with, “We worked it out,” Eloise barks a laugh.

“Oh, I’ll bet you did.” She snaps her fingers at no one in particular. “Garçon, a rubber ring over here, please.”

“Eloise,” I warn, giving her a dig in the ribs, We’re not even in a French restaurant. She sticks out her tongue at me. “Will you quit.”

“Only when you give us the tea.Allthe tea. Not the decaf version.”

I’m saved from answering by our server coming over, although if the red tinge to the poor man’s cheeks is anything to go by, he’s heard this entire conversation. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s been back there in the server’s area begging someone else to take this table.

We give our lunch orders, and the second he’s gone, three pairs of eyes turn on me. I send a pleading look at Imogen. “You’ll rescue me, won’t you? After all, we’re related now.”

“Not a chance.”

“Traitor,” I mumble.

Avoidance tactics won’t work. I know these girls. They won’t rest until I give them the gossip.

“Babe.” Eloise angles her head to one side, feigning sympathy. “It’s like ripping off a plaster. Better to get it over with in one go, then the pain is done.”

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. When I open them, those three pairs of eyes are still on me, but now they’ve progressed to propping their elbows on the table and resting their chins on their hands.

Lord, save me.

“We had a lovely time. He took me to Croatia, where the sun shone every day we were there. He likes to sail and has a boat over there. I didn’t get seasick, which was a relief. The food was lovely, and the country and its people were absolutely amazing.” I shrug. “What else do you want to know?”

“Well, none of that bullcrapola for starters.” Eloise rolls her eyes. “What was he like?”

Freaking wonderful. Amazing. All my dreams rolled into one delicious package.

“He was nice to me.”

“God, help me with this one.” Briony throws her hands in the air.

“What? I’m serious. I thought he’d be… cold, I guess, but he wasn’t like that at all. He was… courteous.”

“Courteous?” Eloise rolls her eyes again. “This avoidance play you’ve got going on won’t work, babes. The sooner you dish the dirt on the sex, the sooner we’ll leave you alone.”

“Why is my sex life interesting to you?”

“Because we’re not getting any,” Briony says.

“Speak for yourself,” Imogen chimes up. “I’m more than, ahem, satisfied.”

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