My Not So Perfect Life(112)

“Let’s go,” says Rosa, and motions to me to pick up the glasses. “Grab another one of those. Flora will be waiting.”

—



It’s one of those pubs with little rooms and passages and steps everywhere. We head down a shabby corridor painted dark red, with old prints of London views lining the walls. Then at the end Rosa opens a door into a small bare-boarded room with squashy sofas and bookshelves holding old paperbacks.

“Wooo!” Flora greets Rosa with a whoop and a fist pump. “Champagne! About bloody right!”

“And look who we found in the bar?” says Sarah, gesturing at me.

“Cat!” Flora squeals, and zooms over to wrap me in a hug. “I’ve missed you! This is so cool!”

“Ding-dong, the witch is dead!” exclaims Sarah again, popping open the bottle of champagne. “At last!”

“Here’s to that,” says Flora fervently.

“And look what Cat has been getting up to!” Sarah grabs my phone and shows Flora the picture of Demeter in the mud. “You didn’t tell me you’d recruited a country branch of DA!”

“Oh my God.” Flora’s eyes widen, and she bursts into peals of laughter. “Oh my God! Cat, you’re a genius!”

“DA?” I echo lightly. “What’s that?”

“DA,” says Sarah, sounding puzzled. “You know.”

“Cat never knew,” says Flora, handing me a champagne glass.

“You never knew?” Sarah looks astonished. “But Flora said you were in.”

“Of course Cat was in!” says Flora impatiently. “She was totally in. Only I never told her exactly what was going on.” She turns to me. “And then you got the push. That evil cow. Have you been OK? You haven’t replied to my texts!”



“I’ve been fine, really. So…what exactly has been going on? What’s DA?”

I meet Sarah’s eyes and I can see her guard has dropped with me.

“Demeter Anonymous, of course,” she says with a laugh. “We share our terrible Demeter stories and help one another.”

“What did you think we were doing every Wednesday?” Flora gulps her champagne. “Honestly, we’ve needed this; otherwise we’d go insane.”

“The worst time was when she made Sarah cook those gross Chinese herbs.” Rosa screws up her nose. “D’you remember? The smell. I think that was before your time, Cat.”

“No!” Flora bats the air, her mouth full of champagne, then swallows and turns to me. “Dyeing the roots!”

“Oh my God, the roots.” Sarah claps a hand over her mouth.

“The roots!” Rosa explodes. “I’d forgotten about the roots. Cat, you win! Worst Demeter story ever.” She clinks her glass against mine and I grin back as widely as I can, even though my mind is working frenetically. While Rosa is refreshing glasses, I take out my phone as though to check for texts, press RECORD, and slip the phone back into my pocket.

“So what happened?” I say innocently. “How did Demeter get herself fired?”

All three of them exchange conspiratorial, triumphant looks.

“Go on,” says Flora to Sarah. “Tell her. Sarah’s brilliant,” she adds to me. “She got Demeter fired.” Flora clinks her glass against Sarah’s. “Sarah’s the star.”



“It was all of us,” rejoins Sarah modestly. “It was teamwork. And it’s been a long time coming. Hasn’t it, Rosa?”

“Too long,” says Rosa wryly.

“Wow!” I open my eyes wide. “But how on earth could you…I mean, what happened? I think I heard about some muddle with Allersons….”

“Sarah’s so clever,” says Flora proudly. “She sent Demeter all this wrong information so she wouldn’t pursue the project. And then she made sure the Allersons people never got to speak to Demeter on the phone; otherwise it would have come out. See? Brilliant.”

“I sent them the wrong mobile number.” Sarah gives me an angelic smile. “And I always answer Demeter’s phone in the office, so. It was easy.”

“But the way you juggled all the emails,” says Rosa. “I still don’t know how you did that.”

“Oh, Demeter’s such a technological shambles,” says Sarah. “It’s pathetically easy to fool her.” There’s such a contemptuous flick to her voice that I’m quite shocked.

“Sending The Email to Forest Food, though,” says Flora. “That was genius.”

“Well, it was in her drafts folder,” says Sarah, with a wicked little grin. “I just helped it along.”

“D’you remember that, Cat?” Flora turns to me. “The Email?”

“Just about!” I force a grin back. “So what actually happened?”



“Well, Demeter typed out this furious email—you know, letting off steam—and put it in ‘Drafts.’ So Sarah went to her computer and pressed SEND.” Flora collapses into giggles. “It took, like, ten seconds. Demeter never even questioned whether she’d sent it or not.”

“Always know what’s in your boss’s drafts folder,” says Sarah, with that one-cornered smile I remember.