Page 32 of Someone to Love Tracy Corbett

The girl looked alarmed. ‘Didn’t I do your manicure this morning, Mrs Law—’

‘Wasn’t me.’ She was such a liar. ‘I’m Betty… Betty… er…’ She couldn’t think of a surname. ‘Betty… Boothroyd.’ Not ideal, but better than nothing. Connie just prayed the girl was too young to know who Betty Boothroyd was.

The girl took Connie’s hands and looked at her freshly applied manicure.

‘Chipped,’ Connie said, pointing to where she’d clawed at the flooring.

‘Shall I touch it up?’ Lucy had clearly recognised Connie, but was discreet enough not to say anything.

‘Do the whole thing, I don’t like the colour.’ The effort of putting on a strange voice was playing havoc with her throat.

‘Would you like to choose a different shade?’

‘You choose, I don’t mind.’ She glanced behind, checking that Tiffany hadn’t spotted her.

Lucy pointed to the colour chart. ‘How about a nice pale coral?’

Connie nodded.

While Lucy fetched the nail polish, Connie leant back in her chair, tuning into the conversation behind.

‘Fed up with dating losers,’ Tiffany was saying. ‘Most of the men in Essex have no prospects or ambition. A girl needs security, a proper man who’ll take care of her.’

A man like Kenneth, you mean?

It made Connie’s blood boil. Tiffany didn’t want Kenneth for any other reason than his money. Plus, he was old. Well, compared to Tiffany, anyway. The woman probably imagined bleeding him dry, burying him, inheriting his money and moving on to the next poor bugger.

Lucy returned with the nail polish. ‘Been anywhere nice on your holidays this year, Mrs Law… er… I mean, Betty?’

Connie pointed to her throat. ‘Infection. Can’t talk.’

Lucy looked alarmed. ‘Is it contagious?’

Connie shook her head. ‘Not if I keep my mouth shut.’

Lucy didn’t look overly happy, but began removing Connie’s old polish.

With an excuse not to talk, Connie could refocus on the conversation behind her.

‘My parents ran a betting shop,’ Tiffany was saying, ‘Cash rich, asset poor, as they say. Don’t get me wrong, we had a good upbringing – my parents done right by us. But I wanted more, you know what I mean?’

Connie didn’t hear the technician’s reply.

‘I know, right?’ Tiffany let out another giggle. ‘My first husband was a bookie, Vince. He used to work down at the races, made a fortune. Blew the lot on the stock market, stupid git.’

Tiffany had been married before?

This was news to Connie. Not that she knew much about the woman who’d replaced her. But still. Was Kenneth aware of this?

‘That weren’t why I divorced him, though. He was a randy sod, chased anything in a skirt. I weren’t having it. My man needs to keep it in his pants, I can’t stand cheaters.’

What a hypocrite! Tiffany had happily adopted the role of the ‘other woman’ when she’d set her sights on Kenneth, hadn’t she? So much for hating cheaters. She was the biggest cheat going.

‘Betty?’ Lucy was talking to her.

‘Sorry, what…’ Connie cleared her throat. She’d forgotten to lower her voice. ‘Sorry, what?’

‘Could you relax your hand?’ She nodded to Connie’s bunched fist.

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