Page 11 of Wife After Wife

“I readThe Bone People,” said Cassandra. “No way would I recommend it to someone who’s been through so much this year.”

“Hear, hear,” said Charles. “A pox on depressing stories. Give me good old Wodehouse any day.”

“You should all read the new Margaret Atwood,The Handmaid’s Tale,” said Gemma.

“Already have. Excellent if terrifying read,” said Harry.

“Talking of dystopian future scenarios, did you know this pub was George Orwell’s local?” said Jonathan, attempting to grab back the highbrow ground.

“Yes, but he was a bit shit really,” said Harry. “I mean—1984issolast year.”

Everyone laughed, except Jonathan.

“Look, quick—a table,” said Cassandra.

As they made their way over, Katie took Harry’s hand and squeezed it. “Game, set, and match to you, darling. And... thanks for organizing this.” Her smile was the sweetest thing.

CHAPTER 5

Harry

Harry had just dropped Katie off at the Lisle Gallery, which was run by Charles’s brother Angus. He hoped the interview would go well, though he suspected the job was already in the bag.

He’d finished at Rose Corp. for the Christmas break, and they were off to Gloucestershire that afternoon. As he nosed the TVR back onto Wardour Street, he was reminded of his last visit to Soho. He glanced at the dashboard. One o’clock. Their bags were packed and the Christmas shopping was done. Or rather, Katie had done it all and he’d bought her the matching earrings.

He had some time to kill. Maybe he’d have a quick drink before heading back to Fulham.

The noise level in the Dog and Duck was deafening as he pushed his way toward the bar. When he spotted Bennie’s shaggy blond head, he was at once delighted and dismayed. He was prepared to admit she was the reason he’d come in, but had a premonition his future life would be less complicated had she not been working today.

He should turn around, right now. He stopped, and a woman crashed into his back.

“Excuse me, please.” The voice was cross.

“Sorry there, I’ll get out of your way.” Harry smiled.

“Oh.” The woman’s eyes widened, and she blushed. “No problem. Happy Christmas!”

Harry changed direction, heading toward the gents.

As he came out again he was still conflicted. Go right, toward the door, or left, toward the bar? He stood still as his conscience argued the toss with his less cerebral instincts.

Then all at once it was out of his hands.

“Harry!” Bennie had appeared in front of him, several glasses in each hand. “Can’t keep away, eh? I’ll serve you if you can fight your way through. It’s a bleedin’ madhouse today.”

“Hello again... Bennie, isn’t it?” Like he didn’t remember. “Great. I’ll just sharpen my elbows.”

Harry parked himself in the corner of the bar with his copy of theTimesand a pint of best. Katie was taking a taxi home after her interview, so as long as he was home by three, he should be fine.

Bennie somehow managed to serve the stream of Christmas revelers and stay cheerful, and popped across to chat during occasional lulls.

She intrigued him. She was streetwise, sassy; so different from most of the girls he knew.

“You remind me of Madonna,” he said. “In a good way.”

She hopped onto a stool and looked up at him through lashes thickly coated in mascara. “Madonna’s pretty cool. Have you seenDesperately Seeking Susan?”

“Can’t say that I have. Not really my cup of tea.”