her,â she yelled. Sophie didnât know which was worse, Deniseâs rantings or Melissaâs betrayal.
Sophie hadnât spoken to Melissa for months. It was the longest they hadnât spoken. Then Christmas had come and her soft heart got the better of her when Melissa sent her a Christmas card.
Now that the divine Tony had done the dirty on Melissa, she had come running to Sophie for comfort. This new disaster was the trauma of traumas, Sophie decided as she watched her friend pace the room.
âThat tart is going to Spain with him. Can you
believe
it?â Melissa was bursting with rage. Her flawless paleskin was red with temper. âSophie, you simply have to come on holidays with me. Iâm damned if flabby-bum Jane is going to come into the salon sporting a tan and showing off photos of her and The Rat.
âWeâll go somewhere and get the best tan ever and find the most gorgeous hunks to take care of us. Our photos will make that rat pea-green with envy. Iâll make sure he gets to see them. But even if he comes crawling back on his hands and knees, heâs history, Sophie. Iâll go straight to the travel agent tomorrow and book a holiday for us.â
Melissa of course assumed that Sophie would drop everything and be thrilled to go on holidays with her.
âI donât know. Itâs very short notice. I wasnât planning to go abroad,â Sophie protested. âIâm a bit strapped for cash.â
âDonât be silly, Sophie. What do you mean short notice? Youâre not
doing
anything are you? You werenât planning on going away were you?â Melissa demanded. âIâm broke too. When I found out about The Rat and that two-faced so-called friend, I went out and blew a fortune on a little black dress. Itâs to die for, Sophie, but my Visa card is having a nervous breakdown. It will have to be a cheap holiday for me too. But who cares? You and I will strut our stuff on the beach and we wonât have to spend a penny,â Melissa said confidently. Her eyes were shining at the thought of her next conquest. She couldnât wait to letTony Jenkins see that he wasnât the only man in the universe.
A fortnight in the sun would be nice, Sophie thought dreamily. Lazing on a lounger with a big, fat blockbuster novel and an ice-cold beer or a glass ofchilled wine. Melissa could strut her perfectly toned and sculptured stuff. Sophie would be quite content to lie on her lounger, her flabby bits not being at all suitable for strutting.
Chapter Three
Two weeks later they were sitting in a bar at the airport. They were waiting to board a TransAer flight to Majorca. They had been delayed for three hours. Melissa was fit to be tied.
âThis is bloody daft. The plane hasnât even left Palma yet. Weâre going to be here for
hours
! Thatâs a whole day wasted. It will be the middle of the night before we get to ⦠Portal ⦠Portal ⦠wherever that place weâre going to is.â
âPortal Nous,â Sophie murmured.
âI hope itâs going to be a bit lively. Itâs three miles from Palma Nova. It was all I could get at such short notice,â Melissa fretted.
âIt will be fine, Melissa, stop panicking,â Sophie said, trying not to loose her cool. âNow letâs have coffee and a sandwich. Iâm a bit peckish.â
Her nerves were frayed. Melissa had whined and moaned non-stop about their delayed flight. Then sheâd started on about the awful betrayal she had suffered at the hands of The Rat. It was doing Sophieâs head in.
âOh no, not coffee! Letâs go and get pissed.â Melissa flung back her golden hair and stood up from the hard chair sheâd been sitting on. She was quite aware that every male eye in the lounge was upon her. She swanned towards the bar in her skin-tight white jeans and tightly fitting black halter-neck.
Sophieâs heart sank. If
T. A. Martin
William McIlvanney
Patricia Green
J.J. Franck
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Karolyn James
R.E. Butler
K. W. Jeter
A. L. Jackson