Girls Night Out 3 E-Book Bundle

Vix and JimmyJames are speechless with relief to be out of the car, and Bella and Ollie take their tight little smiles and sit at opposite ends of the table. I’m unable to speak because the penny has just dropped that I fancy Dave about a thousand times more than I thought I did, and Robert has gone inside to order coffees for everyone.

Only Dave seems unperturbed, sitting back and swinging his feet up on the table.

‘Pretty town. Ugly locals. Typical France. Is there a bar scene here?’

‘This is it,’ I say finally, after several seconds, when it’s quite clear that no one else is going to speak. ‘Um, shall I walk down and wake the happy couple?’

‘No, no, you stay here, angel. I’ll take care of it,’ says Dave, standing up and taking out his phone from his jeans pocket. He puts aviators on at the same time, and gazes across the square waiting for Luke to answer. Oh. The chiselled jaw line.

‘Luke. What’s your poison?’ Dave pauses. ‘Well, we’re in the bar now, what’s the point in coming all the way back there? . . . OK, see you in five.’ He hangs up. ‘He’s coming.’

‘With Sophie?’ says Bella. Dave nods. ‘Then why not say “they”? Women count, Dave. We even have the vote now.’

‘I know! It’s so exciting. Well done, you,’ says Dave, smiling his blindingly perfect smile as he walks away from the table to make a phone call. I giggle, and Bella coolly lights a cigarette and starts texting someone. My giggle trickles off into a gurgle, and finally stops. I am an idiot.

I turn to Vix and JimmyJames, the hangover twins, and finally find my tongue. ‘Look at you reprobates. Honestly.’

‘I seem to have developed an allergy to alcohol. Whenever I drink it, I black out.’ JimmyJames coughs for several seconds, pauses, swallows, and looks up at me. His shirt is done up wrong, I notice, which doesn’t sit well at all on his short, stocky physique. ‘Right. Snack time. How do you say croissant in French?’ He wanders across the courtyard, looking like an unmade bed. The French housewives won’t know what to make of him, I think.

‘I had a fight with a bottle of gin last night,’ says Vix croakily. ‘I lost.’

‘Hair of le chien will sort everyone out,’ says Dave, returning to the table. He sits down next to me and gestures for Frank’s attention. ‘Garçon!’

I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘Robert’s getting coffees inside. And I don’t think they say garçon anymore.’ Yes! I spoke to Dave. High five to me.

‘Of course they do. “Je joue à la guitar.” “Où est l’auberge de jeunesse” and “Garçon, il y’a une mouche dans mon potage.” I passed GCSEs with these three sentences . . . Monsieur! Trois biéres, s’il vous plait, un carafe du vin rouge. Merci.’

He didn’t even ask who wanted beer. Just assumed he knew best. The arrogant take-charge attitude makes me wonder what he’d be like in bed.

Oh God. Blushing.

Robert returns with the coffees. Vix falls on hers with little cries of glee.

‘You shouldn’t have bothered, Robbiekins, I’ve got it covered,’ says Dave. ‘So, Abigail,’ he adds, turning to me. ‘What do you have planned for me, then? I’m assuming you’re in charge of administering fun.’

I hope Robert can’t really mind-read me, as I just thought exactly how I would like to administer fun for Dave. I open my mouth, and close it again. My tongue is in knots.

FuckingsaysomethingAbigailgoddammit.

‘Actually, Luke and Sophie are in charge. I’m just here for the ride,’ I finally say.

‘That’s practically my catchphrase,’ he says, eyes back to his BlackBerry.

I giggle slightly (OK, very) inanely, but no one else is laughing, in fact, the entire table is silent again. I look over at Robert for help, but he’s wearing sunglasses so I can’t catch his eye.

‘How’s work, Bella?’ says Robert, after a just-too-long-to-be-comfortable silence.

‘Marvellous.’ Bella, it turns out, is a paralegal for a leading divorce lawyer in Bath. ‘I help nail bastards to the wall all day,’ she adds, by way of explanation to Vix and me.

‘How wonderful that your job is also your hobby,’ says Dave sweetly.

There’s another long silence.

‘Does anyone want any peanuts?’ I say eventually.

‘Yes, please, angelface,’ says Dave.

Does anyone want any peanuts? I repeat endlessly to myself as I stand at the bar. Why not just say ‘I carried a watermelon’, Abigail, you fucking doofus?

Peanuts in hand, I walk back outside, just as JimmyJames returns with bags of croissants, Sophie and Luke arrive, and Frank brings out everyone’s beer and wine. The sudden injection of the happy couple, caffeine, alcohol, carbs and sugar, gives everyone a second (or in most cases, first) wind, and the table is happy and animated for the first time.

‘Right,’ says Luke, clapping his hands after a few minutes. ‘Welcome to Autignac. Thank you for coming all this way. Let the bridal games begin!’

‘Fuck me, is this a swingers’ party?’ says Dave in alarm. ‘I haven’t prepared. I need to freshen my manscaping.’

‘Manscaping?’ says JimmyJames.

‘Trim the undergrowth. Tidy the hedgerows so my bloom may grow, unfettered.’

JimmyJames stares at him blankly. Dave makes an exasperated face and points to his crotch. With serious effort, I control my giggles.

‘What? Are you kidding?’ says JimmyJames, astonished. ‘Rob. Do you do this?’ asks JimmyJames. Robert nods. ‘Bullshit! Luke? Ollie?’

‘It’s under control,’ nods Luke. Sophie grins at him and they snigger at a private joke.

‘I like to keep the playground clear of weeds,’ nods Ollie. It’s the first thing he’s said today, and we all laugh a little more than he deserves, to make him feel welcome.

JimmyJames is stunned. ‘When did this happen? Was there a memo? Why didn’t anyone tell me?’

‘All men should trim,’ says Vix. ‘I don’t want to floss and blow at the same time.’

I open my mouth to speak, but can’t find the words, so I close it again.

‘Right,’ says Dave. ‘Enough about your pube-fro. Let’s talk about my lunch. I want ice-cold lettuce, local cured ham, fresh-baked bread, creamy brie and lashings of wine.’

‘I think you mean lashings of ginger beer,’ says Luke.

‘I definitely mean lashings of wine,’ says Dave.

I giggle inanely again. Oh God, I hope I calm down soon.

Chapter Twenty One (#ulink_716cae73-eb99-5d54-be55-b07c7ecaac5b)

A weekend with people who don’t all know each other is always a gamble. All you need is one no-speakies couple, one tired/ insecure/premenstrual girl who wants to take it out on everyone else, one hammered guy and well, the whole thing becomes a disaster time bomb.

As I’m discovering.

I don’t know what Bella’s problem is, and I’m not sure that I care. She’s being what my mother would call ‘a right little madam’. Snapping at her boyfriend Ollie, snapping at Dave, snapping at Luke, offering negative comments whenever she can – in fact, the only person she’s nice to is Robert, whom, slightly irritatingly, she seems to adore. It’s adding a distinct edge to the day.