The Penultimate Chance Saloon Read Free Page B

... particularly because the coupling and uncoupling amongst his media associates was more frequent than it had been with Andrea’s NHS friends. Bill’s divorce made little impression on his group of casual acquaintances. Few of them had been aware that he’d ever been married.
    The one person with whom he was surprised to find himself still in touch was Ginnie Fairbrother. Although she worked in the theatre, he had always thought of Ginnie as Andrea’s friend. That went back a long way. The two girls had known each other at boarding school and, even through the wide divergence of their careers, had stayed in touch. Andrea had gone to nursing college, Ginnie to drama school.
    When Bill had become a permanent part of Andrea’s life, Ginnie had become an intermittent ingredient in his. She would disappear for long periods, months away touring, filming or enjoying increasingly high-profile love affairs, but she’d always come back to share her experiences over the pine kitchen table of the Stratton’s Putney home.
    Bill was very happy with this arrangement, which guaranteed him the continuing company of an undoubtedly attractive woman. Had he not been married, Virginia Fairbrother would have been way out of his league. But the coincidence of her having his wife as a childhood friend gave Bill Stratton unembarrassed access to this exotic creature. Their relationship had always encompassed a level of flirtatiousness, which Andrea, knowing how entirely safe she was, mildly encouraged.
    Ginnie had also proved useful to Bill on a professional level. There were occasionally receptions or award ceremonies which Andrea couldn’t make, because she had some pressing hospital commitment (though, knowing what he did after the break-up, Bill wondered whether some of these had been fictitious). And if Ginnie also happened to be free, she would often accompany him to these events. They enjoyed each others company, they could share giggles at the display of egos around them, and generally have a good relaxed time.
    Given Virginia Fairbrother’s blossoming fame and Bill Stratton’s own mild celebrity', their presence together sometimes prompted the tabloids to speculations of steamy romance. Neither of them minded the insinuations – they did their images no harm – but both thought the fact that they were made was hilarious.
    Despite their empathy, Bill had still always thought of Ginnie as Andrea’s friend. He was therefore surprised when, as the tsunami of the divorce was receding, on one of the first nights he spent in his new flat, he received a telephone call from Virginia Fairbrother.
    â€˜I’ve no idea where you are,’ said the voice-over which had sold everything from anti-ageing cream to annuities, ‘but I thought there was a strong chance you’d still have the same mobile number.’
    â€˜As you see, you were right. Really good to hear you, Ginnie.’
    â€˜So how’re you enjoying your resurrection as a single man?’
    â€˜Quite honestly, I haven’t had time to think about it. There’s been so much practical stuff to do. Selling the big house, getting this place ...’
    â€˜Which is where?’
    â€˜Pimlico. Two-bedroomed, according to the estate agent, but the whole lot would fit into the kitchen in Putney.’
    â€˜Still, very sensible to move closer to the centre.’
    â€˜You think so?’
    â€˜Definitely.’
    â€˜Good.’
    The conversation was becalmed for a moment. Bill knew they had soon to get on to the subject of Andrea – not to mention Dewi – but he was in no hurry. He wanted to prolong the glow engendered by Ginnie ringing him.
    But it was she who broke the impasse. ‘I think we should meet for dinner, Bill.’
    He thought that was an excellent idea.
    * * *
    Inevitably, it was a new place. Someone like Virginia Fairbrother was a barometer of aspiring London restaurants. She knew where to