Sal laughed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘Oh, that’ll be no problem. Especially if he’s hot!’
‘Sal!’ Nina laughed.
‘Seriously though, you said he was interested in history?’ Sal said. ‘I could definitely give him a tour of the Roman theatre.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on Jean-Luc AND Sal,’ Bess said, winking. ‘I’ll keep them both on a tight rein.’
‘Spoil sport,’ Sal quipped.
‘And you think it’s OK?’ Nina said, suddenly doubtful. ‘With the Rory thing, I mean? It’s still his house too, after all.’
Bess snorted. ‘Did Rory set any ground rules before he left? No, he did not. He relinquished his rights to say what goes on there when he moved into that flat. It’s your house as far as I’m concerned and you should be able to do what you like.’
‘Other than start a crack den.’
‘Oh, crack dens are over. So 1990s. You’d make more money converting it into a meth lab,’ Sal suggested.
Nina laughed. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
‘We’re always on hand for more sound financial advice, should you need it.’ Bess said, popping up her toast and beginning to butter it.
They were quiet for a moment, the sound of a knife scraping over the rough surface the only noise in the room.
‘Thank you, by the way,’ Nina said.
‘No worries. It’s not like your house is a thousand miles away.’
‘Plus, we haven’t really done anything yet,’ Sal said.
‘No, not just for that. For everything, you know. You’re good friends.’
‘Right back at you,’ Sal said, touching her hand gently.
Bess was silent for a moment. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said, but her voice sounded slightly choked.
‘Well,’ said Nina, ‘you are. And I don’t know what I’d do without you guys to prop me up.’
‘Well, same,’ said Bess, turning, her eyes slightly glistening.
‘Are you OK?’ Sal asked, looking at Bess with concern.
‘Ignore me,’ Bess said. ‘It’s just nice to hear somebody say that. The boys – I know they love me, and I know they appreciate everything I do, or they will one day – posthumously, knowing my luck – and I know Steve does too. It’s just you get into this role and then… well, you work bloody hard. And it sometimes seems as if nobody notices you at all.’ She roughly flicked a tear from her eye. ‘And as you can see, night shifts wreak havoc on my emotions.’
She walked to the table and plonked herself down.
Sal stood up and wrapped an arm around her back. ‘Well, we should say it more then,’ she said. ‘Because you’re brilliant.’
‘Seconded,’ said Nina, reaching out a hand briefly. ‘And you are appreciated. You really are. By all of them, I’m sure. And definitely by us.’
Bess nodded. ‘Well, likewise,’ she croaked. ‘Now, can we talk about something else before I end up going to work looking like a puffy-faced old hag?’
Nina smiled. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Enough sentimental claptrap. Let’s talk about how I’m going to accost my crush of twenty-three years ago and convince him to take me back, despite the fact that I abandoned him over two decades ago.’
‘Now that,’ said Sal, ‘sounds like a completely run-of-the-mill task.’
As they laughed and drank coffee, Nina felt a dip of misgiving in her stomach thinking of what she’d just said. They were her own words; it had been her own joke. But somehow, describing her forthcoming adventure in that way had put a dampener on her mood. Was she completely and utterly mad to be doing what she was doing? And would it all end in tears?
12