Read Online Here Come the Girls by Milly Johnson - Free Book Online Page B

had to wash the bus down and then had to heat up his tea in the microwave; he’d had liver and onions and peas. Not ‘gorden’ peas but marrowfat ones out of a tin.
    ‘Blimey, I bet the time just flies by on a date with him,’ said Roz, then she called across the aisle to Olive, fidgeting in her seat. ‘Ol, will you calm down. You’re safe.’
    ‘Yes, I’ll be calm in a moment or two,’ said Olive as the bus gained speed and headed down the slip road of the M1. She held out her hand, steadily posed to prove her nerves were intact. ‘Look, now I’m calm – see?’
    Clive thrilled them some more with talk about where he was going to stop on the motorway to pick up some more passengers, and to inform them that there was a toilet at the back of the bus and how to flush it (by standing on the button on the floor). But he was stopping in ten minutes for a toilet break anyway.
    ‘Crikey, I know my pelvic floor is knackered but I’m sure I can last longer than that,’ said Ven.
    ‘How can it be knackered – you’ve had no kids!’ said Olive. None of them had. Ven, because she had never found Mr Right to have them with, Olive because she had never fallen pregnant naturally with David. Roz had never been that maternal. Manus hadn’t been that bothered either; he was happy enough just as a couple. At least, that’s what he used to say. As for Frankie, well, Frankie was a different case entirely. Once upon a time they were going to have four kids each and all sixteen children would be best friends – like they were.
    ‘Does she know we’re going on your birthday cruise?’ asked Roz suddenly, as yet another annoying thought of Frankie Carnevale popped into her brain.
    ‘Frankie, you mean?’ Ven asked, though she knew who Roz meant because she reserved a special tone of voice for the rare occasions when she referred to her once best friend.
    ‘Yes, her .’
    ‘Yes, I told Frankie,’ replied Ven, opening up a bag of Cadbury’s Eclairs.
    ‘Wasn’t she pissed off that she was left out?’
    ‘I’ll make it up to her,’ replied Ven.
    ‘What, by bringing her a bottle of wine back?’ laughed Roz. ‘Anyway, I don’t know why I’m asking about her .’
    ‘Give it a rest, Roz,’ said Ven quietly but firmly.
    Roz shut up. Slagging Frankie off was now a long habit and really didn’t have any place on a journey towards a luxury cruise. Especially when dissing her to a mutual friend who had chosen her above Frankie to fill the third place. Roz played with the thought of putting herself in Frankie’s shoes and being told that she wouldn’t be going on a cruise because someone else took priority. Frankie would have taken it better than Roz would, had the situation been reversed.
    ‘Have you seen her recently?’ she asked, trying to sound a bit less negative.
    ‘A couple of weeks ago. I went down to see her.’
    Roz was about to rear up at the thought of Ven going down to Derbyshire and not telling her. Then she remembered she had said ages ago that she didn’t want to know anything about Frankie. As usual with Roz, there was no pleasing her these days. She was suddenly curious, though.
    ‘Is she single?’
    ‘Yeah, she’s been single for ages.’
    ‘What happened to that bloke she moved down to be with?’
    ‘Bloke? Oh yes, well, they . . . they split up not long after.’
    Oh dear , Ros sniggered to herself.
    ‘Is she still in Bakewell – where the tarts come from?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Ven, ignoring the barb tagged on at the end. ‘She’s got a little cottage.’
    ‘Thought she had a big house!’
    ‘She sold it and found a smaller place to rent.’
    ‘What the heck did she do that for?’
    ‘She wanted to free up some capital when she lost her translating job,’ said Ven, being careful what she said.
    ‘Oh, so she’s not working now,’ said Roz with more than a touch of smugness.
    ‘She’s doing some freelance work, here and there,’ said Ven, chomping down on her toffee. ‘She’s