Free Bachelor Boys by Kate Saunders Page A

to nag,” I said, “but it is actually rather important.”
    â€œWhat is? Why can’t you just tell me now?”
    Once again, I had to be careful. “I can’t do it over the phone. I thought you and Ben could come over for dinner.”
    â€œDinner? Is that all? You’re overloading my answering service for the sake of one of your hideous dinner parties?” Fritz was allowed to say my dinner parties were hideous. The three he had attended (in Oxford, New York and London) had been, despite my best efforts, tense combinations of boredom and bad food. The art of entertaining has to be learned, like everything else, and I had never studied it properly.
    â€œIt’s not a dinner party,” I assured him. “But I need to talk to you. It’s urgent. And if you kiss me off, I’ll tell Phoebe.”
    â€œThree-line whip, eh? Okay—but it’ll have to be next week. Can’t do the weekend.”

    â€œWhatever. Name a day.”
    â€œTuesday.”
    â€œTuesday it is,” I said briskly. “My place, eight o‘clock—and that means real eight o’clock, Fritz. Not ten.”
    â€œAll right, all right. Eight sharp.”
    â€œI’ll provide food and wine. You bring your brother.”
    â€œYes, O Queen. Can I go now?”
    â€œThanks, Fritz. You won’t regret this.” It was done. The opening moves could now be planned.
    Â 
    They were late for dinner. I knew they would be. I had made careful preparations for their inevitable lateness. I went to Fortnum’s at lunchtime and bought an immense jar of French cassoulet, which could be left in a warm oven for hours. I poured myself a glass of red wine. I settled into EastEnders. Fritz and Ben would not find me weeping with rage because the dinner had burned to pumice stone. I was planning to be extremely calm and businesslike.
    By the time the bell rang at nine o’clock, I was seething—but it was impossible to stay angry with them for long. I burst out laughing as soon as I opened the door. Fritz was holding a large box of apple doughnuts and a bottle of wine. Ben was carrying a wooden chair they had found in a nearby skip. The chair was excellent—just what I needed—and both Darlings knew my ancient weakness for doughnuts. I kissed them both, then poured us all large glasses of wine. It was difficult to be businesslike. Having Fritz and Ben round was always such a lot of fun—and for some reason, the three of us hadn’t met up like this for ages.
    â€œSorry we’re late,” Fritz said. “It’s entirely my fault.”
    He was wearing very tattered, faded jeans and an ancient leather jacket. Ben was wearing a builder’s donkey jacket, and his hair was hidden under a woolly hat like a condom. Neither had shaved for several days. This sort of thing could not be allowed to continue. They looked rather gorgeous in this state, but that wasn’t the point. Although decent women might look at them, they wouldn’t be thinking of marriage.
    â€œWe can eat whenever,” I said. “It’s cassoulet.”
    Ben held out a plastic bag full of bean sprouts. “I’ll only be eating this, if you don’t mind.”

    I said fine, as long as he didn’t suddenly change his mind later and eat all the doughnuts. I knew Ben.
    Fritz was looking round my sitting room with alert interest. “This is very smart. I like all the cushions and lamps. I suppose you did it for the Moose. Where is he, by the way?”
    â€œThis is just the three of us. I can’t talk about this with anyone else.”
    â€œTalk about what?” Fritz flung himself across my sofa. “Let’s have it, Grimble. You’re being mighty mysterious.”
    â€œI’d rather not have wine,” Ben said seriously. “Do you have any mineral water?”
    Fritz and I ignored him.
    â€œThanks for coming,” I said. “I know you’re