Tim, next to him, breathed enviously, ‘And he’s slept with some of the most beautiful women on the planet.’

Lola opened her mouth but no sound came out. Flanked by his publisher’s balding rep and blonde PR girl, EJ Mack approached them.

‘Well, this is a coincidence.’ Smiling, he stuck out his hand. ‘Who’d have thought we’d be bumping into each other again? How’s your partner?’

Lola tried her best to come up with an answer. Tim, keen to bridge a potentially awkward silence, leapt in with, ‘Hi, I’m Tim! She doesn’t have a partner.’

‘God, sorry.You mean you broke up? What’s going to happen with the baby?’

Funny how someone could look like a geeky speccy accountant-type one minute and not quite so geeky and accountanty the next, even if he was still wearing spectacles and that bizarre anorak.

Although now that she knew who he was, Lola could see that the silver-rimmed rectangular spectacles were probably trendy in an ironic postmodern kind of way.

‘It’s all going to be fine,’ she told EJ Mack.

‘Baby?’ Cheryl stared in disbelief at Lola’s stomach. ‘What baby?’

EJ Mack gave her a speculative look.

Right,’ Lola said hurriedly. ‘Let’s get this show on the road, shall we? Can I take your coat? And welcome to Kingsley’s! You’ve got lots of fans queuing up to meet you! And can I just say how much I enjoyed your book ...’

‘That’s very kind.’ EJ Mack slowly removed his anorak and passed it over to her. ‘Which chapter did you like best?’

‘Oh, um ... all of them.’

‘So that means you haven’t read it.’

‘Sorry, no, but I definitely will.’ Lola blinked as someone took a photograph. ‘Can I get you a drink? Coffee, water, anything else?’

Did my publisher not send you my list of needs? Bourbon biscuits,’ E J Mack said gravely.

‘Peeled grapes. And a bottle of Jack Daniels.’

Cheryl was still frowning. ‘What baby?’

The signing session had been a great success. In the music world EJ was a 31-year-old legend and devotees of his work were thrilled to have this chance to meet him. EJ in turn didn’t disappoint them, he was charming, witty and interested in talking about music. He had worked with everyone who was anyone and plenty of tonight’s book-buyers were keen for him to work with them too. By the time they’d finished, EJ had been saddled with a stack of CDs pressed upon him by starry-eyed wannabes.

‘Occupational hazard,’ he said good-naturedly

‘I’ll get you a carrier bag,’ Lola offered.

‘I’d rather have a private word, if that’s all right. In your office?’

Bum, so he hadn’t forgotten. Lola felt herself go pink, glanced awkwardly at her watch. ‘Um .. ‘

‘Just for a couple of minutes.’ Turning to the rep and the PR girl, EJ said, ‘That’s OK, isn’t it?’

‘Of course it’s OK,’ the PR girl exclaimed. ‘Take as long as you like! Take a couple of hours if you want to!’ Because being lovely to her company’s authors was her job.

The light glinted off EJ’s steel-rimmed spectacles as he smiled briefly at the enthusiastic blonde.

‘Don’t worry, a couple of minutes will be fine.’

Once inside the office Lola said, ‘OK, I’m sorry, I told a fib.’

‘More than one, at a guess.’ He leaned against the chaotic desk, counting off on his fingers. ‘The pregnant woman isn’t – never was – your partner. Was she even pregnant?’ Shamefaced, Lola said, ‘No’

‘And the smell?’

‘We boiled an awful lot of cabbage.’

‘You really didn’t want me moving into that flat, did you?’

‘Oh, please don’t take it personally. We didn’t know who you were. Whoever turned up, we were just going to do everything we could to put them off. Like playing that music ...’ Lola’s voice trailed away, because they’d been playing Eminem. Damn, hadn’t she overheard a fan earlier, gushing about the album EJ had worked on with Eminem?

‘Hmm.’ EJ raised an eyebrow ‘The music was fine, it was the dancing that worried me. So who lives there now?’

‘Um, Sally. The one who wasn’t pregnant. And the guy who was meant to be letting the flat unexpectedly came back from Australia so they’re both in there now, driving each other nuts.’

Eagerly Lola said, ‘So in fact you had a bit of a lucky escape ..’

‘Look, it’s not that big a deal.’ He shrugged and helped himself to a liquorice allsort from the bag on the desk. ‘I live in Hertfordshire and staying in hotels whenever I’m up in town gets tedious. I just thought it’d be easier to have a base here, somewhere to crash when I can’t be bothered to drive home. I’m renting a place in Hampstead now’

Lola was just glad he’d taken it in his stride. ‘Well, I’m sorry we messed you about.’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ His gaze slid downwards to where, having eased off one shoe, Lola was surreptitiously flexing her aching toes. ‘Been a long day?’

‘Just a bit. I can’t wait to get home and run a bath.’ Relieved to have been forgiven, she confided, ‘My feet are killing me and I’m completely shattered.’

‘Shame, I was just about to ask if you fancied a drink. Ah well, never mind.’

‘Oh!’ Lola’s eyes widened.

‘Doesn’t matter. Thanks for this evening anyway, I enjoyed it.’ EJ had reached the office door now. ‘Shall we go?’

‘But ... but ...’ Wow, that was an invitation she hadn’t expected, a bolt from the blue. Following him, Lola said, ‘Well, maybe a drink wouldn’t be so—’

No, no, you’re too tired.’ He turned back, his thin clever face pale beneath the overhead fluorescent strip lighting. ‘Forget I asked. You get yourself home and jump into that hot bath.’

With a glimmer of a smile he added, ‘You do look exhausted.’ Ouch. Or maybe touché. Talk about getting your own back.

Chapter 33

The advance proof copy of EJ Mack’s book, given to her months ago by the publisher’s sales rep, was lying under her bed unopened and covered in dust. Wiping it clean on the carpet, Lola raced barefoot across the landing to 73C. Oh, for heaven’s sake, Gabe was bound to be out and he hadn’t thought to leave the door on the latch; how long was she going to have to wait for Sally to hobble across and unlock it?

Impatiently she hammered on the door. ‘Sal, quick, just roll off that sofa, crawl over here and let me in this minute because you are not going to believe who I met tonight!’ Then, as the door began to open, ‘And by the way, everyone at work was agog when they heard you were my pregnant lesbian lover— ooh!’

Of course it hadn’t been Sally answering the door that quickly. Of course it had to be Doug, whom Lola hadn’t seen for three weeks, not since New Year’s Eve at the Carrick when she’d made such a dazzling impression. Bloody Mary Ann Cross.

‘So now you’re having a lesbian affair with my sister.’ Doug shook his head in resignation. ‘My God, you really do want to give my mother a heart attack.’

‘Sorry. Hi, Doug, I didn’t know you were here.’ Otherwise I’d have quickly redone my make-up and definitely not just made myself that cheese and pickled onion toasted sandwich.

‘You know, I wish I was gay,’ complained Sally, lying in state across the sofa. ‘We’re far nicer people. It’s got to be easier fancying women than fancying men.’

‘Not when they reek of pickled onions,’ said Doug. Ouch.

Then again, speaking of fancying men. Doing her best not to breathe near him, Lola said, ‘No Isabel tonight?’ and for a split second allowed herself to get her hopes up. (Isabel, I’m sorry, it’s not you I love, it’s—’)

‘Yes, I’m here too!’ Emerging from the kitchen with a tray, Isabel said gaily, ‘Hi, Lola, look at us, meals on wheels!’

‘I ran out of milk.’ Sally eased herself into more of a sitting position, wincing with pain as she shifted her leg a couple of inches on its pile of cushions. ‘Gabe’s been gone for hours and he gets cross with me when I keep phoning him, so I gave Doug a call instead.’

To be fair to Gabe, Lola had heard about last night’s debacle when, whilst queuing at the pharmacy for Sally’s ibuprofen capsules, he had missed a headline-making punch-up between two A-listers outside Nobu.

‘Poor lamb, stuck here all on her own with no milk for a cup of tea,’ Isabel trilled. ‘Then when we said we’d pop over with a couple of pints she mentioned how hungry she was and asked us to bring her a takeaway.’

The poor starving lamb had the grace to look faintly ashamed at this point, as well she might.

Lola said indignantly, ‘What happened to the lasagne I brought over this morning? All you had to do was heat it up.’

‘It’s still in the fridge,’ Sally admitted. ‘Sorry, I was just in the mood for a Chinese.’ Hastily she changed the subject. ‘So who did you meet tonight?’

Lola’s stomach was still rumbling, baying for attention, despite the toasted sandwich. Oh well, if Sally didn’t want the lasagne — the delicious home-made lasagne she’d put together completely from scratch — she’d jolly well eat it herself. ‘Remember the geeky speccy guy who wanted this flat? Him!’

‘Yeek, you mean he came into the shop and saw you? Was it embarrassing?’

‘Just a bit, seeing as he was doing a signing. By the way, he • asked after you and the baby.’

Sally patted her stomach. ‘We’re doing great, thanks.’

Lola, still clutching the book in her hand, said, ‘Have you ever heard of EJ Mack?’

‘The music bloke? Worked with Madonna last year?’ Popping a forkful of chicken Sichuan into her mouth, Sally shrugged. ‘Kind of.’

‘EJ Mack’s a genius,’ Isabel exclaimed. ‘He’s worked with everyone.’

‘Well, it was him,’ said Lola.

Sally almost choked on a mushroom. ‘What? EJ Mack’s the speccy geek? Oh my God, he’s like a mega-millionaire and we didn’t even know ...’