the time I assure her that she will meet her Mr Right long before I do.
Issy hails a taxi and I lurch toward it and by lurch I mean, literally. My eye catches something familiar and I lose my footing. My feet skid on some ice and I fly arse over tit and land on my bum with legs flayed, and would you believe it, right at Toby’s feet. Good heavens, Madam Zigana truly is prophetic. I try to speak, but the breath is knocked out of me. Not from the fall, you understand, but from seeing Toby, and not just from seeing him but seeing him emerge from the sex shop. What is my boyfriend doing in a sex shop when he is supposed to be working? And what is that in the brown paper bag he is holding? And why does he smell very distinctly of Trésor? Oh God, my boyfriend is a pervert. This could only happen to me.
‘Libby,’ he exclaims, as though it had been us and not him that had waltzed out of the sleazy sex shop with suspicious brown paper bags in our hands. He doesn’t even attempt to help me up.
Issy takes my hand and with one strong pull, yanks me onto my feet.
‘Toby,’ she exclaims back, ‘fancy, bumping into you here.’
‘Yes,’ I say in a hoity-toity voice, ‘fancy seeing you here.’
‘Small world isn’t it?’ giggles Issy, and I shoot her my best dirty look.
Toby coughs, sounding like a strangled choke.
‘It is, isn’t it? I mean, who would ever have thought I’d see you here. What were the chances of that happening?’
Yes, Toby, what were the chances of your girlfriend catching you coming out of a sex shop?
‘I mean, what a coincidence,’ he continues, his voice rising by an octave.
Good Lord what is he on? He is talking out of his arse. Speaking of arses, mine is beginning to feel like it has frostbite.
‘It’s not so odd,’ I say flatly, while at the same time thinking how sexy he looks.
‘No, I know, but…’
‘I suppose the chances of us all being here at the same time…’ butts in Issy.
What is Issy saying? Is there something in the air which hasn’t hit me yet? Issy swishes back her long blonde hair in an elegant fashion and shakes her head in the direction of the taxi. I shrug and lower my eyes to the brown bag. Maybe he has bought me some sexy underwear for Christmas. Yes, that will be it. Good God, we will be romping for England all over Christmas. Well, that can’t be bad seeing as we haven’t romped at all in the past few months, well, not much anyway. The truth is, my old rusty vibrator has seen more action than Toby. I swear the quality time I spend with my vibrator is unhealthy. An uncomfortable silence is broken by the ringing of Toby’s mobile. We all stand freezing our bollocks off waiting for him to answer, but he just stands there with a foolish grin on his face.
‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ I ask through chattering teeth. It is freezing. I swear if we don’t all move soon they will be digging us out with a snowplough.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ he answers stupidly.
‘It might be work,’ I suggest.
‘I don’t think it is.’
What a lying, shagging, deceiving, two-faced little shit. He knows damn well it isn’t work. To think I made the two-timing little runt a cake too and stupidly considered having a gastric band fitted and a possible spine severing. Now what do I do? Of course, I should march off all defiantly but pride before a fall, as my mother would say. She says a lot of rubbish to be honest but right now keeping my pride seems a good idea. Anyway, I can’t possibly go to the Christmas party alone tomorrow can I? I know Issy will, but she has the kind of confidence to carry it off, whereas I have, well I have no confidence to carry anything off. So, right there, right then, with my nipples turning to ice I decide to stop wearing sturdy pants and roll on girdles that make me heave each time I breath in and finally go on a diet that works. I