Read Online The Exchange by Carrie Williams - Free Book Online Page B

sit down in front of her three-mirrored dressing table and dab at my face with her powder-puff before coating my mouth with a slick layer of her lipstick. This was the ’70s, and the colour I remember applying most often was a vibrant orange. I never did my eyes, but I’d dab at her little pots of navy and silver shadows with my fingers and rub them over the backs of my hands to test out the effects.
    That carried on, but while I still love dressing up, I’m not swimming in money, and I party too hard, and sometimes I realise the effect I achieve is more Courtney Love on a bad day than offbeat starlet. Today, however, I was Courtney in Versace: a bit ruffled, but sexily so. I’d teased out my ringlets a bit, and my nude-beige dress, knee-length and covered with appliqué white, pink and scarlet flowers, was actually quite downplayed. My lipstick and eye make-up were correspondingly muted.
    As I walked in, Tatiana gestured from a table. I had to admit it, she looked good, her platinum-blonde hair offset against an expensive white trouser suit. Silver bangles and a heart pendant at her throat twinkled unobtrusively.
    ‘Rochelle,’ she said, standing up and walking around the table to kiss me on both cheeks. Her hands clasped my shoulders firmly, in a gesture I felt was a little territorial. I wriggled free, sat down. She did so too. I busied myself opening and scanning the menu; I knew it was rude, but suddenly I wasn’t in the mood for this. Whatever
this
may be. And of course I felt pretty shifty about what had happened with Morgan.
    ‘It’s great to see you again,’ she said, leaning across the table and thus forcing me to look up and meet her gaze. ‘What an unexpected pleasure that it be so soon. I’m almost glad my friend cancelled now. Old friends are great, but it’s always nice to make new ones – to extend one’s circle. Don’t you think?’
    On her breath I caught a whiff of wine, and looking down I saw that she had almost downed a large glassful while waiting for me. It wasn’t for me to judge, but I did find that noteworthy given that we’d all been drinking the night before – and also given that I hadn’t arrived late, for once in my life.
    When the waitress appeared by my side, I ordered a sparkling mineral water. I wanted a clear head for the job interview – if that’s what it was going to be. But I also wanted a clear head for this lunch. Something wasn’t quite right, and I needed to have my wits about me.
    Tatiana had fallen silent now, and I became convinced that she was studying me, although I was avoiding looking at her again in favour of the menu. I had a very strong feeling, all of a sudden, that I had fallen into a kind of trap.
    I was just wondering whether to make an excuse and nip out to the street to call Kyle and question him about Tatiana and Morgan, when she spoke again.
    ‘I’m having the red mullet,’ she said. ‘How about you?’
    I’d barely been able to read the menu, my thoughts were so fast and panicky, so I read out the first dish my eyes alighted on and then put the menu down.
    ‘So …’ I said, thinking that it might, after all, be better to cut to the chase and found out exactly what Tatiana wanted of me.
    An almost flirtatious expression spread across her smooth, radiant face. ‘
So
…’ she echoed, and then she faded away as she waved to someone she’d spotted coming in the door.
    ‘I don’t believe it,’ she said. ‘How the devil are you, Roger, my old mucker?’
    A man strolled over, hands in his pockets, a roué’s smile on. ‘Tats, darling!’ he said. ‘You’re looking just fabulous. How’s the old man?’
    ‘Oh, he’s the same old Morgan,’ she said, and as she did so, she turned her head in my direction and winked at me. It was all I could do not to let out a gasp. Was she implying, I wondered, that she knew what had happened between Morgan and me? I remembered seeing, through my drunken haze, her sniffing his fingers as they