Fast Friends Read Online Free PDF

food did smell magnificent. In the steamy warmth
of the kitchen the scent of the boeuf
bourgignon mingled with the
comforting aroma of baking potatoes. And the seafood cocktails, lined up
on the kitchen table looked so pretty on their lettuce beds that surely no-one would be able to resist them. In the fridge the creamy syllabub was all prepared. On
the shelf above it sat the white marble cheeseboard, carefully wrapped in Clingfilm so that the ripe Stilton and Brie wouldn’t
taint the delicate flavour of the dessert.
    Everything’s ready, thought Camilla. Except me.
    Jack, stabbing at the phone for the
tenth time that day, realized
that he was furious not only with Camilla but also with Roz. She simply had to be playing one of her irritating games with him, having guessed that Camilla was his
wife. He had meant no harm by the small deception and now she was
clearly angry with him for not letting her
in on the secret. By refusing to
answer the phone she was making sure, as always, that she had the upper
hand. What a bitch she was, leaving him to guess how she would handle the
situation.
    ‘Jack, can I come in? I need a hand with this zip.’
Camilla’s voice followed the tentative tap
on the door and he suppressed a fresh surge of irritation, remembering
that it was he, after all, who had instructed
her always to knock before entering his study. Dropping the phone back on to the hook, he rose to his feet
and opened the door, coming face to face with Camilla’s effort to look less
like herself, more like Roz. It was, he thought with a jolt of unexpected sympathy, like dressing a puppy up as a lizard. Camilla’s voluptuous figure was
naturally suited to pastel colours and lace, but, in her efforts to
streamline herself, she had chosen a sharp,
ruthlessly tailored dress. Her dark blond hair, which so suited her when
it curled loosely to her shoulders, had been scraped back into a chignon which
cruelly emphasized the beginnings of a double
chin, and the soft blue eye make-up she usually wore – on special
occasions only – had been replaced by less flattering shades of poison-ivy
green and rust brown.
    For a fraction of a second as Camilla
turned her back to him to reveal
smooth creamy flesh and the unfastened zip, Jack wondered whether he should tell her that the outfit was a disaster, that she still had time to change into
the pale pink wool dress which made
her look like a rose. For heaven’s sake, she was even wearing a new, cloying perfume instead of the usual flowery scent he had always associated with
her. Roz would know that Camilla was
emulating her and would be inwardly
laughing all evening. Suddenly Jack didn’t want his wife to be the
object of his mistress’s amusement. It was unfair and he felt sickened by the prospect of it. The sense of clandestine excitement had vanished and all he felt
now was shame.
    ‘I much prefer you in your pink dress.’ The words came out more brutally than he had intended and he
regretted them instantly, for at least
until that moment Camilla had felt attractive. When he had closed the zip and she turned slowly round
to face him there were tears in her eyes.
    ‘Thank you, Jack,’ she said in a low, trembling voice. ‘You
certainly know how to boost a woman’s ego.’
     
    By eight forty-five all the other guests had arrived apart from Roz and
Loulou, and Camilla was struggling not to appear concerned. Surely they wouldn’t
fail to turn up, without even phoning to let her know? Was the evening that
unimportant to them? Oh God, she prayed as
she held out a plate of hors- d’oeuvres
and watched Margaret Jameson choose the biscuit with the largest prawn on it, please just make them turn up and I
promise I’ll never complain about anything else again.
    The cow, thought Jack, not knowing
whether to be relieved or angry again. She isn’t going to come. She’s chosen to humiliate us and make us look ridiculous in front of our
friends. I’ll bloody kill her if she doesn’t