Page 10 of Wife After Wife
“Me four?” said Charles.
“How’s your birthday been?” Harry asked.
He sensed Katie relax as Charles attempted to catch the attention of another barmaid.
“Lovely. I met Stepmama—we went up to Harvey Nicks and she bought me these.” She held up a foot, on which was a red lace-up ankle boot.
“Ye gods, that’s a breakaway from your usual look,” said Harry.
“I thought it was time I explored my wilder side.”
“Go, Katie!” said Cassandra. “No more Mrs. Nice Girl!”
“Steady on,” said Charles, returning with the drinks. “Katie’s the nicest girl I know. If she loses her nice, my faith in humanity will disappear.”
“Here’s Gemma and Jonathan,” said Cassandra as a tall, thin man with thick-framed glasses pushed his way toward them, followed by a matching thin, dark-haired woman.
“Hi, everyone! Happy birthday, Katie,” called Gemma, peering around Jonathan’s back. “Sorry we’re late, dreadful traffic.”
“Terrible,” said Jonathan. “Christmas should be banned.”
“Happy Christmas, Ebenezer,” said Harry, holding out his hand. Jonathan’s felt limp and slightly damp.
“Gemma, how the devil are you?”
She blushed. “Fine thank you, Harry. Lovely to see you.”
Gemma was pleasant enough, but rather boring. Harry was glad Katie got on so well with Cassandra, who was much jollier.
Although... he wasn’t sure how much the two girls shared about their personal lives. Charles had told him how Cassandra had discovered his latest affair, and Harry hoped she hadn’t told Katie. He didn’t want her thinking badly of Charles, didn’t want at some point to have to explain how Charles’s indiscretions had nothing to do with his relationship with Cassandra, that it didn’t mean he loved her any the less. Katie wouldn’t understand that, he felt sure.
His eyes moved back to Bennie, who was deftly filling glasses with one hand, while dropping slices of lemon into glasses with the other.
“Well, Harry?” said Cassandra.
“Sorry, what was that?”
Cassandra’s eyes fell on Bennie before narrowing and meeting his. “I asked what time the table was booked for.”
“Oh, eight. Plenty of time yet.”
“Jonathan, how’s the book trade?” said Katie. “What should I be reading?”
“The Bone People, of course.”
Harry bristled. The “of course” was unutterably smug. No doubt Jonathan would assume Harry and Charles were thrillers men.
“Is that the one that won the Booker?” said Katie. “I’ve heard it’s quite a difficult read.”
“Well if you want something easy, there’s always Danielle Steel or Jackie Collins.”
“I’m more of a Winnie-the-Pooh man,” said Charles.
“I’d recommend Sidney Sheldon and Freddie Forsyth for you boys.”
Good god. The man was insufferable. He knew the type—grammar school chippy.
Even Katie was looking uncomfortable now, and Harry sensed Cassandra getting hot under her turned-up collar.
