herself taking in his scent. She wondered what that aftershave was. Was it even aftershave? She shook her head as if to empty it of such thoughts.
By the time the movie had ended in its gory, funny glory, they were both practically supine on their beanbags, groaning and squinting as the lights turned back on with a shock. Looking around, Amy saw that the rugby girls had gone. Clearly they had been unimpressed by the cinematic offering. They laughed as they struggled to sit up and Freddie said, 'You know, they show Friends here on Friday nights. The whole Channel 4 line up actually. Not that many people turn up, but it’s fun if you find yourself at a loose end.'
'Great. Maybe. When I’m up here.' It felt good being non-commital. Polite. She didn’t really think she would come again. Most weeks she was intending to go home or to Cambridge to see Will. But there was no need to tell this stranger that. He seemed nice and Amy thought she’d probably bump into him here and there given they were living in such close proximity. They would say hello and maybe make small talk, but that was as far as it would go.
'Well, I’d better-' she started, gesturing towards the door of the common room.
'Yeah, me too.'
They both stood up and a distinct sense of awkwardness pervaded the space around them as they simultaneously walked to the door.
'Ok, well, I hope I’ll see you around,' he said, only slightly lifting his hand from his side, as if considering a wave but then changing his mind.
'See you,' she smiled.
And then each turned to walk off in different directions down the corridor, Amy only just resisting the overwhelming urge to turn around for one last look.
Chapter 5
They were the most beautiful shoes Amy had ever seen, let alone worn, they really were. And they gave her 5'2 frame essential height. But perhaps if she had known that the venue of this month’s London Ladies meeting was going to be a country hotel surrounded by an impenetrable moat of pebbles, she might not have chosen five inch stilettos, even if they did have the trademark red sole that marked them out as Louboutins. More specifically, Giselle might have told her to wear different shoes.
Amy had only jokingly mentioned her mother-in-law’s comment to Giselle at a barbeque at Giselle and James’s palatial St John’s Wood home.
'I’m supposed to join the London Ladies’ Society, but I’m not sure Andrea is confident in what I can do,' she had said. 'She even suggested that you could dress me.' Partly to demonstrate that she was joking, partly just because she always did this when she was nervous, Amy had laughed at this point, watching as Giselle’s twin toddlers ran around in the garden. Antonio kept launching stones towards the barbecue being managed by the professional chef hired for the occasion, while Jasper was finding any unattended drinks and pouring their contents into what looked like an almost full plant pot.
Yet, rather than laugh along and reassure her that she dressed perfectly well, Giselle had taken this as a request for a complete assessment of her sartorial competence. With the languid brutality of a cat plucking the legs off a spider, her sister-in-law picked her outfit off item by item, then moving onto her hair and makeup.
'Your face is good. Pale, but good.' Amy almost felt flattered. But then with her trademark bluntness, Giselle brought her crashing back down to earth. 'Of course you are too short,' Giselle was saying breezily, surveying her figure with the expert eye of a surgeon his patient, her clipped German accent in no way softening the effect of the words. 'And we need to do something about your jewellery. And your eyebrows. And your shoes. Your bag is ok though.' This last part was delivered just a touch too cheerily, as though Giselle had only just located the very thin silver lining of a cloud roughly the size of South America. She completed her appraisal by declaring that, 'We will go shopping tomorrow.'
When
By the time the movie had ended in its gory, funny glory, they were both practically supine on their beanbags, groaning and squinting as the lights turned back on with a shock. Looking around, Amy saw that the rugby girls had gone. Clearly they had been unimpressed by the cinematic offering. They laughed as they struggled to sit up and Freddie said, 'You know, they show Friends here on Friday nights. The whole Channel 4 line up actually. Not that many people turn up, but it’s fun if you find yourself at a loose end.'
'Great. Maybe. When I’m up here.' It felt good being non-commital. Polite. She didn’t really think she would come again. Most weeks she was intending to go home or to Cambridge to see Will. But there was no need to tell this stranger that. He seemed nice and Amy thought she’d probably bump into him here and there given they were living in such close proximity. They would say hello and maybe make small talk, but that was as far as it would go.
'Well, I’d better-' she started, gesturing towards the door of the common room.
'Yeah, me too.'
They both stood up and a distinct sense of awkwardness pervaded the space around them as they simultaneously walked to the door.
'Ok, well, I hope I’ll see you around,' he said, only slightly lifting his hand from his side, as if considering a wave but then changing his mind.
'See you,' she smiled.
And then each turned to walk off in different directions down the corridor, Amy only just resisting the overwhelming urge to turn around for one last look.
Chapter 5
They were the most beautiful shoes Amy had ever seen, let alone worn, they really were. And they gave her 5'2 frame essential height. But perhaps if she had known that the venue of this month’s London Ladies meeting was going to be a country hotel surrounded by an impenetrable moat of pebbles, she might not have chosen five inch stilettos, even if they did have the trademark red sole that marked them out as Louboutins. More specifically, Giselle might have told her to wear different shoes.
Amy had only jokingly mentioned her mother-in-law’s comment to Giselle at a barbeque at Giselle and James’s palatial St John’s Wood home.
'I’m supposed to join the London Ladies’ Society, but I’m not sure Andrea is confident in what I can do,' she had said. 'She even suggested that you could dress me.' Partly to demonstrate that she was joking, partly just because she always did this when she was nervous, Amy had laughed at this point, watching as Giselle’s twin toddlers ran around in the garden. Antonio kept launching stones towards the barbecue being managed by the professional chef hired for the occasion, while Jasper was finding any unattended drinks and pouring their contents into what looked like an almost full plant pot.
Yet, rather than laugh along and reassure her that she dressed perfectly well, Giselle had taken this as a request for a complete assessment of her sartorial competence. With the languid brutality of a cat plucking the legs off a spider, her sister-in-law picked her outfit off item by item, then moving onto her hair and makeup.
'Your face is good. Pale, but good.' Amy almost felt flattered. But then with her trademark bluntness, Giselle brought her crashing back down to earth. 'Of course you are too short,' Giselle was saying breezily, surveying her figure with the expert eye of a surgeon his patient, her clipped German accent in no way softening the effect of the words. 'And we need to do something about your jewellery. And your eyebrows. And your shoes. Your bag is ok though.' This last part was delivered just a touch too cheerily, as though Giselle had only just located the very thin silver lining of a cloud roughly the size of South America. She completed her appraisal by declaring that, 'We will go shopping tomorrow.'
When
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