Read Page 87

“Fliss, what the hell’s going on?” expostulates Richard in an undertone as soon as she’s walked away.

“Can I have a credit card to put in my wallet?” asks Noah, examining it. “Can I have an AmEx? Can I have points?”Advertisement

Oh God. He knows about AmEx points at the age of seven? This is mortifying. Almost as bad as when we checked in to a hotel in Rome and, by the time I’d found change for a tip, Noah had already asked to see a different room.

I get out my iPod and hand it to Noah, who whoops with delight and slots the earphones into his ears. Then I lean toward Richard and lower my voice.

“Noah told some made-up story to the ground staff.” I bite my lip, feeling a sudden relief at sharing my worries. “Richard, he’s turned into a complete fantasist. He does it at school. He told one teacher he’d had a heart transplant and another he had a surrogate baby sister.”

“What?” Richard’s face drops.

“I know.”

“Where did he get those kind of ideas, anyway? A surrogate baby sister, for God’s sake?”

“Off a DVD they were playing in the special-needs department,” I say wryly.

“Right.” Richard digests this. “So what story did he tell this lot?” He gestures at the air hostess.

“No idea. Apart from the fact that you play a starring role as a surgeon.” I meet his eye and we suddenly both snort with laughter.

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“It’s not funny.” Richard shakes his head, biting his lip.

“It’s awful.”

“Poor little guy.” Richard ruffles Noah’s head, and he looks up briefly from his iPod trance, a beatific smile on his face. “Do they think he’s doing it because of the divorce?”

My residual laughter melts away. “Probably,” I say lightly. “Or, you know, the evil career mother.”

Richard winces. “Sorry.” He pauses. “How’s that all going, anyway? Have you signed the settlement yet?”

I open my mouth to answer honestly—then stop myself. I’ve bored Richard many times over dinner about Daniel. I can see he’s bracing himself for the rant. Why did I never notice people bracing themselves before?

“Oh, fine.” I give him my new saccharine smile. “All good! Let’s not talk about it.”

“Right.” Richard looks taken aback. “Great! So … any new men on the horizon?” His voice suddenly seems to have doubled in volume, and I flinch. Before I can stop myself, I glance at Lorcan, who is sitting by the opposite window, engrossed in his laptop, and thankfully didn’t seem to hear.

“No,” I say. “Nothing. No one.”

I’m telling myself furiously not to look at Lorcan, not to even think about Lorcan. But it’s like telling yourself not to think about a rabbit. Before I can stop them, my eyes have darted to him again. This time, Richard follows my gaze.

“What?” He peers at me in astonishment. “Him?”

“Shhh.”

“Him?”

“No! I mean … yes.” I feel flustered. “Once.”

“Him?” Richard sounds mortally offended. “But he’s on the other side!”

“There aren’t sides.”

Richard is surveying Lorcan with narrowed, suspicious eyes. After a moment, Lorcan looks up. He seems startled to see us both gazing at him. My whole body floods with heat and I abruptly turn away.

“Stop it!” I hiss. “Don’t look at him!”

“You were looking at him too,” points out Richard.

“Only because you were!”

“Fliss, you seem hassled.”

“I’m not hassled,” I say with dignity. “I’m simply trying to be an adult in an adult situation— You’re looking at him again!” I jab at his arm. “Stop!”

“Who is he, exactly?”

“Ben’s oldest friend. A lawyer. Works at his company.” I shrug.

“So … is it a thing?”

“No. It’s not a thing. We just hooked up and then …”

“You unhooked.”

“Exactly.”

“He looks like a bundle of laughs,” says Richard, still surveying Lorcan critically. “I’m being sarcastic,” he adds after a pause.

“Yup.” I nod. “Got that.”

Lorcan looks up again and raises his eyebrows. The next minute he’s unbuckling his seat belt and coming over to where we’re sitting.

“Great,” I murmur. “Thanks, Richard. Hello.” I smile sweetly up at Lorcan. “Enjoying the flight?” pqdm.com