Page 101 of The Honeymoon Affair

Her eyes narrow.

‘It’s amazing, really, that you’re such good friends,’ I add. ‘Steve – my ex – wanted us to be friends, but quite honestly, once it’s over, it’s over, don’t you think? Otherwise it becomes a bit controlling.’

‘I suppose it depends on how mature you are about it.’ She places a sliver of cheese on a cracker. ‘And given our professional relationship, Charles and I have to be mature about it.’

‘I guess so.’

‘After all, we talk almost every day.’

I say nothing.

‘It’s good that we all get on.’ She smiles.

They might. We don’t. And we don’t have to. There’s nothing that says I’m obliged to like her, or speak to her, or have her in my home. I’m aware of a charge between us, a crackling tension that seems entirely about who has the greater claim on Charles. I’m annoyed at myself for feeling it, because nobody should have a claim on anybody. But I definitely feel like Ariel is staking out some kind of territorial advantage here.

‘I can see you might think it a bit awkward that I’m in such close contact with him,’ she says. ‘But it’s only while he’s working on his book. After that, you’ll hardly see me.’

That’s good. I don’t want to see her.

‘So Freedom Friday ends once it’s done?’

‘Well, we do tend to have a glass or two in the summer,’ she admits. ‘It’s nice to sit on the patio and crack open a bottle of bubbly. He’s always thrilled when I sign a new client, and we like to celebrate our mutual successes. But it’ll be even more fun with you there too. You’ll be good for him, I know. Charles can get very self-obsessed sometimes. Oh, by the way . . .’ She reaches into the enormous bag she left beside the sofa. ‘As promised, that signed Janice Jermyn. And a proof copy of her new one too.’

‘Oh.’ Despite myself, I feel my eyes light up. A signed copy is lovely to have. And a proof of the new one is a real treat. I see from the cover that it isn’t out until the summer, and I feel privileged.

‘Thank you,’ I say, and mean it.

‘You’re more than welcome. If there are any other books by my authors that you’d like, just say the word.’

‘I don’t want to impose on you.’

‘Next time you’re here, drop down to the mews,’ she says. ‘It’s a bit damp outside to go there now, but you can take anything you want.’

‘You’re very kind.’

‘Not at all.’ She smiles at me, then lifts her glass. ‘We’re friends, right?’

‘Friends,’ I say, although I wonder how true that is.

It’s nearly an hour before Charles joins us. We’ve made quite a dent in the bottle of wine, although Ariel has drunk more than me. She’s been telling me stories of her life in London and giving me titbits of gossip about celebrities she’s met. She’s a good storyteller and she knows quite a few famous people who’ve written books. Or had them ghostwritten, she says. It’s a bit of a thing for celebs now. Some have done very well. Many, she confides, have sunk without trace.

‘Which is why it’s important to nurture an exceptional talent like Charles,’ she says as she fills a glass for him. ‘He’s the real deal, you know.’

‘Thank you.’ Charles sits beside me on the sofa. At least Ariel wasn’t able to claim it this time, what with me having been asleep on it earlier. I move a little closer to him.

‘Are you going to the Seán Óg launch next Thursday?’ Ariel asks him. ‘It’s in the National Library.’

‘Another tome about the Famine?’ Charles groans.

‘It’s very good,’ she says. ‘So I’ve been told.’

‘That man loves exploiting misery. I suppose I should turn up, though. I’m guessing all the usual suspects will be there.’ He looks at me. ‘You’ll come?’

‘I’m working from eleven till seven next week,’ I say.

‘That’s a shame,’ says Ariel. ‘It starts at six thirty.’

‘Get a cab,’ says Charles. ‘There’ll be at least half an hour’s schmoozing before Seán says anything. Besides, he’ll go on for ages and then read from his book. If you’re unlucky you’ll catch the end. Please come.’