Love Is a Four Letter Word Read Free Page A

t’ big city. There’s the loo, bythe way – kitchen – coffee-maker – tea bags in there. Now come and meet the other inmates …’
    â€˜Shall we go to the tapas place again?’ said Viv on the phone the next day. ‘But I always go there – is it too pathetic?’
    â€˜Why spend ages traipsing around town hunting for somewhere new just to prove you’re an exciting, adventurous person who doesn’t always go to the same two restaurants when you already know that you aren’t adventurous and they are clearly the two best places to go? Count yourself lucky you’ve not got much choice.’
    â€˜Neither have you. You live here too now, remember?’
    â€˜Yes, but I’ve retained some semblance of urban sophistication, whereas you probably think focaccia is a Romanian folk-dance.’
    For now at least, Bella genuinely preferred this provincial paucity of choice. In London, she had felt like a hero from Greek legend faced with an impossible dilemma: Patrick used to narrow it down in stages – first, by continent, then country. ‘Right, Europe. Italian, French, Greek?’ Then to the quest for the elusive Holy Trinity of decent food, friendly service and good atmosphere, juggling combinations until it was almost too late to be worth going. ‘The Conca d’Oro has that nice waitress but the veg was soggy last time.’ ‘Le Beaujolais? Good chips but can you handle the look of condescending superiority when you ask for vinegar?’
    *   *   *
    â€˜Sorry, sorry, sorry.’ Viv swept into the tapas bar twenty minutes late. ‘There was a complete crisis at work. The entire network crashed because some total arsehole plugged in a hair-dryer and overloaded the electrics.’Viv loved a good crisis. They ordered a couple of beers, and debated over whether the pinchos morunos or the pollo al ajillo was a better bet.
    â€˜What do you think?’ Viv indicated the waiter with her eyebrows. ‘Bit tasty?’
    Bella wrinkled her nose.
    â€˜You’re so fussy. I thought you liked Latin men?’
    â€˜He’s probably from Bromley,’ Bella said. ‘I know, I know. I’ll never get anyone at this rate. You sound just like my mother.’
    â€˜Did I say that? Of course you’ll find someone else. No need to panic – not for ages and ages.’
    â€˜What’s that?’ Bella cocked her head as if listening for something.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Tick. Tick. My biological clock. Surely you can hear it? My mother can hear it over fifty miles away apparently. I don’t care. I’ve decided not to worry about having sprogs. I’m just going to get some on time-share for two weeks a year.’
    â€˜How are the parents anyway?’ Viv said, speaking through the lime wedge that she had decorked from her beer bottle and clamped between her lips like a comic mouth. ‘Have they been to view the new Kreuzer estate yet?’
    â€˜Fending them off as long as possible. Alessandra asked after you, as always, last time we spoke.’ Bella coloured her voice with theatrical timbre as she said her mother’s name. ‘I can just see her peering at the damp – “Oh is that a deliberate paint effect, Bella-darling?” ‘
    â€˜What you need,’ said Viv, ‘is an action plan. To meet men.’
    â€˜I never turn down invitations, no matter how dull they sound.’
    Thanks,’ said Viv. ‘That’s the last time I ask you out.’
    â€˜Not you, stupid.’ Bella took a swig of her beer straight from the bottle. ‘I told you, I’m not bothered. I like being on my own.’
    â€˜Liar.’
    â€˜Pig. I do. Why shouldn’t I? Just because you’ve found Mr Perfect, you think anyone single must be some pathetic half-person.’
    Viv shook her head.
    â€˜Even Nick’s mum would hardly describe him as perfect. What