was still wearing the brooch. Not only that, she had named her cat Chrissy. It would only freak her out more if she knew.
Eloise took a breath. ‘So, what if Juliet wants to see you again?’ Chrissy shook her head. ‘But it’s obvious that’s why she’s trying to get in touch with you, Mum.’
‘I don’t want to see her.’
‘Well, what about the brooch, and the cat? I mean the cat brooch that she still—’
‘Will you stop going on about that bloody thing?’ Chrissy put her hands to her temples. ‘You’re driving me insane.’
‘Why though, Mum?’
‘Because I bloody stole it, if you must know! Okay? Happy now?’
‘Oh.’
Eloise was stunned, her brain overloaded. ‘So … so Juliet doesn’t know that?’
‘Of course she doesn’t know.’
And then it seemed almost comical. What was a stolen brooch between friends? Hardly the crime of the century, even if the brooch was ugly as sin. Eloise smiled to herself. Things had suddenly got a whole lot easier as far as she was concerned.
‘I’m going to have a bath,’ said Chrissy, pressing her hands into the small of her back. ‘Before I seize up.’
‘I’ll run it for you.’
Eloise almost knocked the wineglass out of her hand in her eagerness to please. She darted into the bathroom where the hot tap began its slow, pitiful trickle, and she placed a stack of travel magazines on the side to try and tempt her mother.
She appeared a little while later, wrapped in a towel.
‘Lovely smell,’ she said. ‘What will I do without you, eh? All your special baths and breakfasts in bed. You’re so good to me, Eloise.’
Eloise felt her cheeks ignite on hearing those words. ‘Well, I try,’ she said, moving out of her way.
‘And that’s the best any of us can do.’ Chrissy skimmed the water, shaking the drips off her fingers. ‘Perfect, thanks.’ Then she picked up the magazines and handed them to Eloise. ‘They’ll just go crinkly in here.’
Eloise forced a smile. ‘Okay. Well, enjoy,’ she said, closing the door.
Her mother would be in the bath for the next hour at least. Eloise looked down at her phone.
‘On my way. Hope that’s okay
J
xxxx’
She stared at the words. They didn’t make any sense.
She was about to send a reply when the doorbell went.
Please. Don’t let it be.
‘Juliet?’
***
She was exactly as she was on her website. But what was she doing here? On their walkway, outside their flat, the Mancunian Way rumbling on behind her? Juliet Ricci, big shades, big hair with red streaks. Vivid red linen dress with long slits up the sides. Massive bottle of champagne in her hand.
On completely the wrong day.
Juliet put a cigarette to her lips, cheeks sucked in drawing heavily on it, nodding her head as she contemplated Eloise. Eloise noticed the silver cat brooch pinned to her dress. The late evening sunlight gave it a sparkle. It certainly didn’t look cheap. Juliet dropped the cigarette onto the walkway, crushing it with her shoe. Then she flung her arms open wide. Eloise resisted, terrified this might lead to some loud ‘it’s so lovely to meet you’ greetings. She managed, somehow, to communicate: PLEASE DON’T DO THAT.
‘You must be the beautiful Eloise,’ Juliet whispered. Her voice was even deeper and more sensual in real life. She kissed Eloise on both cheeks. Her skin was soft.
‘Bella ragazza. You look so like your mother when I knew her.’ She took a step back to inspect her further, chewing one arm of her sunglasses. ‘Does she know?’
‘I – I don’t understand. Why are you here now, Juliet?’
‘You didn’t get my messages?’
She came closer, smoothing down Eloise’s hair where she had been nervously scrunching it. Juliet’s nails were red and immaculate, she smelt of roses, jasmine, musk.
Eloise could feel herself shaking. ‘I got one text. But—’
Juliet placed her hand on her shoulder. ‘I was in London and decided to fly up this evening. I messaged you to say that I didn’t think it was a good idea to meet for the first time anywhere public. Much better here.’ She gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘We really don’t know how she’s going to react, do we?’ Taking another step back, she asked: ‘Is she in?’
‘She’s – she’s in the bath.’
‘What do you think, should I wait?’
‘Well—’
‘Okay,’ said Juliet, putting her shades back on. ‘Don’t worry, Eloise. I’ll see you Monday evening as planned. But I’ll come here. Okay?’ Juliet kissed her on both cheeks again. ‘You are even more beautiful than your mother was.’ She put her finger on her lips, then pressed it gently to Eloise’s nose. ‘Best not tell her that. Ciao.’
She smiled, waving her fingers like they were playing the piano mid-air.
‘Bye.’ Eloise felt her racing heartbeat slow as Juliet’s heels click-clacked away from her.
Holding the bottle of champagne out to the side, she stopped, spun round, and was heading back again.
No! Go! Before Mum sees you.
‘I nearly forgot,’ she said, handing over the bottle.
This time she disappeared, the sound of her heels fading into the rumble of traffic.
Eloise had no time to reflect because her mother was shouting from the bathroom: ‘Who was that, Eloise?’
‘No one. Just someone got the wrong flat again. Delivering pizza.’
‘You should’ve kept it, I’m starving.’
She put down the bottle, ridiculously heavy, and picked up the crushed tab end off the floor, breathing in Juliet’s perfume. There was lipstick on the tip. She ran her finger over it, making a red streak on the back of her hand.
‘You smoking?’ said Chrissy.
Her mother was standing right behind her, pulling the belt through the loop of her bathrobe.
‘Erm … Yeah.’
She managed to shut the door quickly on the bottle of champagne, still out on the walkway.
‘I knew I could smell it. You’re a fool, Eloise.’
‘I hardly ever,’ she replied, darting into the kitchen to dispose of the evidence.
Chrissy went to sit down. She was about to turn on the TV but Eloise stopped her.
There was still so much more Chrissy needed to tell her. And time was running out.
Bristol: 1988/89
Dan arrived in a howling gale the first weekend in November. She waited for him at Temple Meads, pacing up and down in an effort to keep warm, but also to calm her nerves. So much had changed. She had changed. She couldn’t say how exactly, she just knew that she had. But as soon as Dan stepped off the train she was certain that her feelings were the