Platinum Coast. Lynne Pemberton

to invite him in for coffee when he jumped out of the car and ran around to the passenger door to help her alight. She decided not to do as he probably expected.

      ‘You’ve got my number; call me next time you’re in town.’

      ‘Goodnight, Christina.’ He leaned forward and pecked her on the cheek. She turned her face towards his and returned the kiss, lightly brushing his lips with her own.

      ‘Goodnight, Stephen, and thanks again for a memorable evening.’ She paused for a moment before saying, ‘If I never see you again, at least I can tell everyone I’ve been to the Legh Arms and drank Dom Perignon.’ She started to walk away.

      ‘You will be seeing me again, Christina, I promise,’ he said softly in the deserted street.

      The following morning Christina awoke with a splitting headache. She staggered to the bathroom, almost bumping into her flatmate coming out.

      Susie looked at Christina’s pale face and narrowed eyes. ‘You don’t look too good this morning. Good night, was it?’

      Christina groaned, holding her head in both hands.

      ‘Too good. Do you have any aspirin?’

      ‘Hang on a tick, I’ll get you a couple. Go back to bed and I’ll bring them to you. It’s only seven o’clock.’

      ‘Thanks, Sue, you’re a pal.’

      Christina shuffled back into her bed. The thundering in her temples increased as she lay down.

      Susie appeared a few minutes later with two paracetamol, a large glass of water, and a cup of weak tea. ‘Come on, sit up. This will put you right.’

      Christina did as she was told and threw the tablets down her throat, swallowing them with two deep gulps of water.

      Susie propped three pillows behind Christina’s head and handed her the mug of tea.

      ‘So how was it?’

      She couldn’t wait for Christina’s head to ease; she had to know now. ‘Where did you go?’

      ‘The Legh Arms,’ Christina mumbled over the top of the mug.

      ‘You jammy thing!’ Susie sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes wide and excited.

      ‘Nick would have to sell his old MGB to afford to wine and dine me in the Legh Arms.’ Her voice was resigned. ‘So when are you going to see him again?’

      Christina shrugged her shoulders and downed the last drop of tea.

      ‘He said he would call me.’

      ‘When?’ Susie demanded.

      ‘How should I know? He might never call. He’s a busy guy, got property developments going on all over the place.’

      ‘What kind of car did he have?’

      ‘A Mercedes,’ Christina replied, her voice impatient. ‘What difference does that make?’

      Susie grimaced. ‘You try going out in a sports car that leaks most of the time, feels like you’re in a wind tunnel and if you’re not careful your foot drops through the passenger floor … believe me, it makes a hell of a lot of difference.

      ‘So what did you have to eat?’

      Christina moaned. ‘I think I had more to drink than I had to eat.’ She slid down the bed and pulled the covers over her face.

      ‘I can see you don’t want my company, Miss O’Neill.’

      Christina’s head moved up and down under the covers.

      ‘Okay, I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll see you later. Don’t forget I’m going to Paul Colville’s party tonight and you promised to lend me your black dress.’

      Christina’s head moved in the affirmative, and Susie left the room, switching off the light before she left.

      Christina went back to sleep, to be woken four hours later by the telephone ringing.

      She reached the phone located in the hall on its final ring.

      ‘Christina! At last!’ It was Kate Mason’s husky voice.

      ‘Yes, sorry. Kate. I overslept. Had a late night.’

      ‘Model girls should not have late nights; they need their beauty sleep,’ said Kate in her best schoolma’am’s tone.

      Christina felt like telling her to shut up, but Kate continued talking. ‘I’ve got some great news for you, Christina. A big photographic shoot in two weeks’ time for an American glossy. Five days’ work for a big fat fee of £400!’

      ‘That’s great.’ Christina could hardly believe what Kate was saying. Five days’ work at a rate far higher than usual.

      ‘The shoot is in London with a top photographer, so no more late nights for you, young lady. I’ll see you later if you stop by the office. I’ve got a couple of small jobs for you this week.’

      ‘What are they?’ Christina asked.

      ‘One is for the Milk Marketing Board and the other for a small old-fashioned lingerie house. They want a nasty cross-over bra and big knicker advert.’

      ‘They both sound like a bundle of fun.’

      ‘As I keep reminding you, Christina, they’re your bread and butter.’

      ‘I know, I know.’ She looked at the hall clock. ‘I’ll see you about 2.30, okay? I’ve got a couple of things to pick up before I come into town.’

      ‘No later,’ Kate informed her. ‘I’ve a meeting at three. See you, then. Bye.’

      Christina walked back to her bedroom, thinking about the photographic shoot and Stephen’s words to her on parting last night.

      Perhaps, Mr Reece-Carlton, she thought, I may be able to buy my own champagne in the not too distant future.

      Susie was arranging twenty-four long-stemmed red roses in a water jug when Christina came home later that day.

      ‘They arrived just as I did.’ Susie pointed to the flowers, sighed, and said in an affected voice, ‘I can’t begin to imagine who they are from.’

      She held out a small white greetings card. Christina tore it open.

      ‘I had a marvellous evening – thanks for your company,’ she read aloud.

      ‘Smoothie, smoothie!’ Susie yelled.

      ‘You’re only jealous,’ Christina commented, and drew out one red rose. Holding it to her nose, she inhaled deeply.

      ‘By the way, I got a fantastic job offered to me today. Five days’ work in London for £400.’

      ‘Wow!’ Susie grabbed her friend’s hands and squeezed them tight. ‘That’s great. Perhaps you’ll be able to pay me back the eighty quid you owe me? I’m a bit short this month.’

      Christina bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry, Sue, but you know how it is in this game – always waiting so long for your money.’

      She looked in concern at Susie’s round, amiable face and bright-blue eyes.

      ‘I’ll pay you back with interest this time, I promise.’

      Susie winked. ‘I was only joking. Anyway, you know me. As I’ve always said, a friend in need is a pest – and you are the best pest I’ve ever had.’

      Christina laughed and drew her arms around the small, plump girl.

      ‘And you, Susan Philips, are the funniest, kindest and best friend I have ever known.’

      ‘I’ll drink to that,’ Susie said, and produced a bottle of sparkling wine from the fridge. ‘Not quite Dom Perignon, Chrissy, but it’s all we’ve got, and if we drink enough it will