Waiting for Wednesday

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Authors: Nicci French
Tags: thriller, Mystery
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protesting, into
the hallway, put her coat on for her and pulled her out of the front door. As they went
down the steps, Olivia stared around anxiously. ‘I can’t help feeling that
I’m locking
in
the people I ought to be locking
out
.’
    ‘No,’ said Olivia, to the
waiter. ‘I don’t need to taste it. Just pour it most of the way up. Thanks,
and leave the bottle.’ She picked up the glass. ‘Cheers.’ She took a
gulp. ‘Christ, I needed that. Did you see them all hugging each other as they
arrived? It was as if they’d returned from a round-the-world trip. And as soon as
they’ve finished hugging and shrieking they’re on their mobile phones.
They’re at a party but somehow they instantly need to talk to the people
who’re not at the party or who’re on their way to the party, or maybe
they’re checking whether there’s a better party somewhere else.’ She
took another gulp. ‘They’re probably sending out a general call to the youth
of north London to trash the house.’ She prodded Frieda. ‘At this point
you’re supposed to say, “No, no, it’ll be fine.”’
    ‘It’ll be fine,’ said
Frieda.
    Olivia gesticulated towards the waiter.
‘Why don’t we order lots of little dishes?’ she said. ‘Then we
can just pick at them.’
    ‘You choose.’
    Olivia ordered enough for three or four
hearty eaters and another bottle of wine. ‘I’m a big hypocrite,
really,’ she said, when the waiter had gone. ‘My real worry about a party
like this is that Chloë will do half of what I did when I was her age. Younger than her
age. She’s seventeen. When I think of parties when I was fifteen,
fourteen … It was technically illegal. People could have gone to prison.
I’m sure it was the same with you. David told me one or two things.’
    Frieda’s expression became fixed. She
took a sip of wine but didn’t speak.
    ‘When I think of some of the things I
got up to …’ Olivia continued. ‘At least people weren’t filming
me on their mobile phones and putting it on the Internet. That’s the difference.
When we were teenagers, you could do things and they were done, gone, in the past. Now
they get filmed and sent by phone and put on Facebook. People don’t realize
they’re stuck with their actions for ever. It wasn’t like that with
us.’
    ‘That’s not true,’ said
Frieda. ‘People got hurt. People got pregnant.’
    ‘I wasn’t going to get
pregnant,’ said Olivia. ‘Mummy put me on the Pill at about the time I
learned to walk. I’m not saying I was a complete wild child, it’s just
that … When I look at the some of the decisions I made, well, I’d like
to see Chloë choose better than that.’ She topped up her wine glass. Frieda held
her hand over her own glass. ‘But in some ways, I think Chloë is more mature than
I was at her age. Now, I know what you’re going to say.’
    ‘What am I going to say?’
    ‘You’re going to say that if I
was less mature than Chloë, I must have been a truly epic fuck-up.’
    ‘That’s not whatI was going to say,’ said Frieda.
    ‘Then what?’
    ‘I was going to say that it was a good
thing to say about your daughter.’
    ‘We’ll see,’ snorted
Olivia. ‘Meanwhile the house is probably being reduced to its constituent
parts.’
    ‘I’m sure you don’t need
to worry.’
    ‘I don’t know what parties you
went to,’ said Olivia. ‘I was once at this party. I was up in the
parents’ bedroom with Nick Yates and by the time we were finished for the second
time the people downstairs had carried the upright piano out into the garden and started
to play it, then forgotten about it and it had started to rain. God. Nick Yates.’
A faraway expression came to Olivia’s face. Then the food arrived.
    ‘I’m so sorry.’ Olivia
filled her plate from the different dishes. ‘Try this shrimp, by the way.
It’s to die for. I’ve been talking solidly about myself and my problems and
my wicked past. I haven’t even asked about

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