Free Another Love by Amanda Prowse Page B

home too. ‘They won’t have supper without me. I need to get back.’
    ‘Can’t they eat without you just once? We are talking VIP!’ Sara raised an eyebrow suggestively. ‘When’s the last time you went out and had a giggle, like you didn’t have a care in the world? A good old bloody giggle!’
    Romilly bit her lip, pulling her oversized handbag into her waist like a shield. ‘I’m not sure. David thinks you’re a bad influence on me and I think he might be right!’ She laughed.
    ‘Yes, because David is a fellow member of the fun police, the atmosphere hoover club. I can tell. And what’s more, he can tell that I can tell, if you follow!’ She roared with laughter. ‘Come on, Rom! You’re not having enough fun! What’s one evening?’
    Romilly laughed too and with a heady jolt of carefree abandonment shooting through her veins, she jumped in the passenger seat and swiped her phone to send David a text, explaining that she was working late and to go ahead and eat without her. She shoved the phone in her bag, too nervous to study his response.
    Sara punched the air and shouted ‘Yes!’ as though her team had just won the cup. ‘You can lose that ponytail for a start!’ She reached across and pulled at her friend’s hair. ‘Let the mane loose!’ she shrieked.
    Romilly laughed and did as she was told, teasing off the elasticated band and letting her hair fall in lustrous waves over her shoulders. She shook her head and raked her fingers through the shining red mass.
    ‘Oh my God, your hair is amazing! All you need is a bit of this…’ Sara dipped low and plunged her hand into her handbag that sat in the well by Romilly’s feet. The car swerved a little to the right. They both gave a nervous giggle as the driver of the Volvo coming in the opposite direction beeped his horn.
    ‘Fuck off!’ Sara waved back. ‘I’m trying to get to my lipstick!’ she shouted, as though this was explanation enough for her meander across the lane. ‘Here.’ She handed Romilly a berry-red tube of sparkling lip stain. ‘Go on, pop it on. It is so your colour. It’ll accentuate your hair and as you have next to no eye make-up on behind those shades, we need to make your lips pop. That’s the rule: dramatic eyes or lips but never both. Did you not learn that at beauty school?’ she lisped in a fake American accent.
    Romilly shook her head. ‘No, I must have skipped that lesson. Too busy learning the periodic table.’ Pulling down the sun visor, she tentatively drew the wand across her mouth, staring at the instant, glistening pout that was bright and did indeed make her mouth pop. It didn’t look like her. ‘I’ve never been very good with make-up. I think because I wear glasses and I can’t see too well without them, I’m nervous of eye shadow and stuff. I only wear a bit of mascara. I guess because David and I met at uni, he knows what I’ve always looked like and it would feel odd to suddenly walk around with a face full of colour. I’m just not that type.’
    ‘You are a stunning woman, who seems to hide her looks away, and that’s a shame. One day you’ll look in the mirror and you’ll be eighty-six, everything will have gone to rat shit and it will be too late to explore just how gorgeous you are! You don’t want that, do you?’
    Romilly shrugged and thought of her mum. ‘I’ve never really thought about it. My sisters were always the pretty ones and they are really good-looking – you know, blonde, long legs, smiley, they’ve just got that cute thing going on and they always have. I was different, really…’
    ‘Says who? God, blonde and cute is ten a penny. You are so gorgeous! You just don’t know it. You’re like one of those sexy secretary types who suddenly shows up at the end-of-year party and whips off her goggles and everyone realises they’ve been dictating notes to Jayne bloody Mansfield all year without realising it!’
    Romilly smiled at her friend’s theatricality.