Page 25 of The Honeymoon Affair

Well, yes, I do. I’m wearing black, which always suits me, and I’ve gone for a kind of sixties cocktail look to embrace the spirit of the evening. I’m wearing red shoes and long red gloves, although I’ll have to get rid of the gloves soon, because as more and more people join the party, I can feel myself getting hotter and hotter. I’m hoping that’s just the heating system and not me, because I started the HRT the day I got the prescription from the doctor and so far it’s been miraculous – the hot flushes have stopped and I’m feeling a lot more energetic which is a good thing for sure.

‘Charles not here tonight?’ asks Penny.

I give her the same reply as I gave Graham and Avery.

‘I wish I had the time to sequester myself away,’ she says.

I give her a sympathetic smile. Although her book has had rave reviews and prize nominations, and sold reasonably well too (a welcome bonus!), Penny can’t afford to give up the day job yet. Her main income is from her work at an online travel company. She’s great at social media, though, and such a lovely writer as well as a lovely person that I’m convinced she’ll soon have a massive breakthrough.

‘Have you posted anything yet?’ I ask.

She grins and shows me a few pix of the evening, with various hashtags that include #Celebration #BookNight #BookLovers and, of course, #NotSoGentleKisses, the title of her book.

‘Do you want me to take a photo of you?’ I ask.

‘Let’s do a wee selfie,’ she says, and pulls me towards her.

She gets the angle of the phone exactly right so that we both look glamorous and sparkling, although it’s very clear that she’s sparkling with youth whereas I’m entirely dependent on my make-up, which needs a bit of refreshing. I find a place to deposit my champagne glass and tell Penny I’ll be back to her shortly.

It’s surprisingly quiet in the bathroom, and I sit in one of the stalls to cool down for a moment. I remove my gloves and take out my phone, and even though I’m totally not a fan of using the phone in the loo, I send a text.

Are you still working?

I’m not really expecting a reply, but the answer comes straight away.

Researching

How’s it going?

The effects of multiple cocktails on the human body are very interesting

Are you drinking?!?!?!?!

Not as much as I could

FFS, Chas, I’ve told everyone you’re sequestered and working hard

I am. This particular research is essential to the plot

I replace my phone in my bag, give the loo an unnecessary flush, leave the cubicle and wash my hands. I reapply my lippy and mascara before brushing my hair. Then I walk outside and find a quiet place in the lobby before FaceTiming Charles’s number. He answers as a voice call with no video, and I can hear the sound of calypso music in the background.

‘Is everything all right?’ I ask.

‘Of course. There’s no need to keep checking up on me. I told you that before.’

‘I know. It was you talking about cocktails that made me . . . well . . .’

‘You’re like my mother, you know that, don’t you?’

I shudder. Charles’s mother might be eighty years old, but she’s an absolute witch. Or perhaps a word that rhymes with witch.

‘My only concern is that everything’s working out for you. It was a big gamble taking six weeks away.’

‘What you really mean is that you hope I didn’t simply splurge on a six-week holiday in the sun when my deadline is looming.’

‘Sort of,’ I admit.

He laughs. I haven’t heard him laugh like this in ages. I feel myself relax.