My Not So Perfect Life(30)

We hang up our coats on white wooden hooks by the door, then Flora grabs a floral-printed tray for each of us and bossily starts dumping items on them. “OK, these pumpkin muffins are yummy. And the flapjack hearts are great…and we should get a salad each…and this ginger cordial is amazing….” She loads up each tray, then announces, “Ant, you get in the queue. We’re going to nab a table. C’mon, Cat.”

She leads me across the room to an alcove where a couple are just getting up from their lunch and high-fives me as we slide into our seats.



“Result! This place gets sooo crowded.” Flora pulls out her sequined dress and looks at it lovingly. “So, what are you wearing to the Christmas party?”

“Little black dress,” I say. “Tried and tested.”

Flora nods. “Good choice. Last year, Demeter wore such a short dress, you could practically see her Spanx,” she adds disparagingly. “Who’s she kidding? I mean, just because you have a toyboy, it doesn’t mean you’re suddenly, like, twenty years younger. She’s such a crone. Here, I’ll show you a picture of what she looked like.”

“Toyboy?” I say with interest.

“You know.” Flora’s busily flicking through photos on her phone. “Alex Astalis.”

It takes a moment for the words to imprint on my mind.

“Alex Astalis?” I echo stupidly.

“That guy you met.”

“You mean…”

“Demeter and Alex? Oh God, yes.” Flora nods. “They’ve been having a totally un-secret affair, like, forever.”

My throat has clenched up. I can barely speak.

“How…how do you know?” I manage at last.

“Everyone does,” she says, as though in surprise. “You know Demeter was Alex’s boss, years ago? Well, apparently the chemistry between them was sizzling. Mark told me. He knew them then. And now Alex is Demeter’s boss. It’s weird, isn’t it?”

I nod dumbly. I’m picturing a youthful Demeter…a fresh-faced Alex…sizzling chemistry….



I think I’m back into bad-dream land.

“Demeter was married, even then,” Flora carries on. “But I guess she didn’t want to break that up or whatever….Anyway, that’s why she came to Cooper Clemmow. Alex went into partnership with Adrian and straightaway he headhunted her. So unsubtle. Look, here she is. Doesn’t she look vile?”

She hands me her phone, showing a photo of Demeter in a minidress, standing by an ice sculpture, but I can barely see it. I feel a bit cold. And deflated. And above all, incredibly stupid. It’s so obvious now. I can see them together. Both lithe. Both intelligent. Both at the top of their game. Of course they’re lovers.

It suddenly hits me: That’s why they’re both in Copenhagen. I can see them now, in a Scandi hotel room, having sex in some amazing athletic position that nobody else does except Demeter, because she’s the first person on the whole planet to have found out about it.

I’m still holding Flora’s phone, staring blindly down, my thoughts scudding around. Demeter really has it all, doesn’t she? She bloody has it all. The job, the house, the husband, the children, the fashionable paint shades—and Alex. Because obviously when you’re Demeter, a devoted husband isn’t enough. You need a lover too. A sexy, authentic, organic lover.

But…what about me?

My mind keeps torturing me, replaying those little moments I had with Alex. The way he smiled…the way he gently fixed my hair…glancing over as we pedaled along…I didn’t make it up. There was something; we did have a spark….

But what’s a spark with me when you’ve got a sizzling inferno going on with the goddess of sex, or whatever she is? I was just a diversion. I suddenly recall him after the Santa ride, scrutinizing his phone, saying, “I just need to text…them.”



He didn’t want to say “text her.” He was being discreet. But that’s who he meant.

“Hasn’t her husband guessed?” I try to sound like this is all breezy office gossip.

“I doubt it.” Flora shrugs. “She’s really good at lying….Oh, Ant!”

“Here we go.” Ant dumps two trays on the table. One is Flora’s, with her muffin, salad, and all the rest of it. The other has a bowl of soup. “Yours is up there.” He nods at me. “They’ve put it aside for you to pay.”

Me to pay?

All thoughts of Alex are swept aside and I stare up, feeling a bit hollow. I thought…

“Ant, you brute!” Flora pushes him. “You should have paid! Now Cat will have to queue.”

“No, she won’t,” he retorts. “I told them she was coming and they’ve put it aside. Because I’m thoughtful like that.”

“But honestly, Ant.” Flora sounds exasperated. “Why didn’t you just get her stuff?”

“Because I’m out of cash, OK?” He glares at her.

Oh God. Now they’re going to start fighting about my lunch.

“It’s fine!” I say brightly. “No problem! Thanks so much for keeping my place in the queue, Ant!”

But as I head to the checkout, I feel mounting dread. I thought Ant was buying us all lunch. I never would have come in here otherwise. I would have made an excuse and left. I’ve even got a tuna sandwich in my bag, all wrapped up in cling film.