Free Rumor Has It by Jill Mansell Page A

Kaye sounded amused. 'And tell Jack I'm just issuing the standard Government Health Warning. I rang because I wanted to say hello to Max's new Girl Friday. Lou emailed me last night to tell me how lovely you are.'
        'I'm really enjoying myself.' Touched by the endorsement, Tilly said, 'Lou's lovely too. She's a real credit to you.'
        'She means the world to me. Oh my baby, I miss her so much. Never mind.' Kaye exhaled and audibly gathered herself. 'I'll be back for a holiday at Easter. Only a few more weeks to go. Now listen, any time you want to call me, don't even hesitate. Any questions, any worries, just give me a ring, d'you promise?'
        'Absolutely.'
        Max announced, 'Kaye just asked Tilly if I'm the best boss she ever had.'
        'No no no.' Jack shook his head. 'She asked her if I was the most fanciable man in Roxborough.'
        'Sshh,' said Tilly.
        'Tell them I can still hear them. One other thing, has Lou men tioned anything about a boyfriend?'
        'No, not at all.'
        'Oh right. OK, I just wondered. She's mentioned a boy at school a few times recently, that's all. In a God-I-can't stand -that-idiot kind of way. So of course, I'm wondering if she has a bit of a crush on him.'
        'I'll keep an ear out.' Tilly felt for Kaye; it must be agonizing being so far away while your thirteen-year-old daughter was making her initial foray into the confusing world of boys. As if it got less confusing at any age.
        'Thanks… oops, I'm going to have to go now, they're calling me into makeup. I'll speak to you again soon,' said Kaye. 'Give my love to everyone.' Cheerfully she added, 'Even Jack.'

Chapter 10

    HOW WAS IT THAT you could spend weeks, months, years even, cooking perfectly edible meals without incident, then just when you were desperate for dinner to be perfect it all went pear-shaped?
        Erin let out a yelp as the red-hot oven shelf made contact with her inner wrist and went ssssss . Ow, that really hurt.
        And it wasn't only the food she was managing to cock up; pre paring to have first-time sex with Fergus was turning out to be a dangerous occupation. Normally she could shave her legs without incident in two minutes flat, but tonight—OK, probably because she'd been so determined to get them super-silky ultra -smooth— she'd given herself half a dozen razor cuts and the shower had ended up looking like the one in Psycho . Then, having stubbed her toe against the chest of drawers in the bedroom, she'd managed to drop the hairdryer on her other foot.
        And now dinner was going tits up too.
        Was somebody up there trying to tell her something?
        No, she mustn't think like that. Fergus had left his marriage six months ago; she wasn't doing anything wrong. And he was worth it. What were a few cuts and burns compared with the chance to impress the man of your dreams?
        Erin collected herself; it was ten to eight and Fergus would be here soon. All she had to do now was concentrate, baste the chicken, and slice up the zucchini, preferably without chopping her fingers off.
        The doorbell rang at eight on the dot. As she let him into the flat, her heart was hammering against her ribs.
        Between kisses, Erin said, 'You didn't stand me up.'
        'I'd never stand you up.' Fergus enveloped her in a hug.
        And that was the brilliant thing; she knew he wouldn't. God knew, she'd had her share of relationships with tricky, mercurial, hard-to-keep men during her university years; she was over that now. Fergus was someone you could trust and rely on. He was utterly dependable. Maybe when she'd been eighteen it was a quality she might have laughed at, but at twenty-eight, dependability had turned into something of an aphrodisiac.
        'Come on in.' Erin led him into the flat, still super-aware of her heart hammering away. Did Fergus know that tonight was the night? Did the fact that she'd invited him