be more things had changed than just her. It was a shame Matt hadn’t and wouldn’t.
‘The usual,’ she said, too dazed and mixed up to bother with something new.
‘OK,’ said Kate, picking up the phone and hitting the speed dial. ‘Hello? Yes. I’d like to place an order…’
Laura listened to Kate rattling off their selection and felt a deep gratitude to her friend. Ever since her plane had touched down a week ago, and what a miserable journey that had been, she’d been operating on automatic.
Unable to bear the thought of going back to the village where the manor house would keep reminding her of Matt—not that she needed reminding when he’d taken up pretty much permanent residence in her head—she’d gone straight to London and had turned up on Kate’s doorstep, watery-eyed and shaking.
She’d spilled out the whole sorry story, at which point Kate had enveloped her in a huge hug and pulled her inside, and had been plying her with wine and sympathy ever since.
Kate hung up, poured two huge glasses of wine and handed one to Laura. ‘It’ll be here in half an hour. Are you going to be all right?’
Laura took a gulp and felt the alcohol hit her stomach. What choice did she have? She had to be all right if she was going to live any kind of life. Matt would never change and she’d be a fool to hope otherwise. ‘I expect so. Eventually.’
‘Matt’s an idiot. But then he’s a man, so what can you expect?’
Kate’s scathing tone managed to drag a smile to Laura’s face but not for long. Because Matt wasn’t an idiot, just a gorgeous, sexy, emotionally deluded, infuriatingly obstinate man.
‘So what are you going to do?’ Kate asked.
Laura stared at the fireplace, as bleak and empty as her heart. ‘I’m not sure. Look for a new job, I suppose. And then find somewhere to live.’
‘You can stay here as long as you need.’
‘Thanks.’ She put her wine glass down and gave Kate a shaky smile. It was so tempting to stay in the warm cocoon of Kate’s flat for ever, but sooner or later she had to pull herself together.
She’d been back a week and had been wallowing in self-pity all that time. She’d let herself become a mess. The last time she’d looked in the mirror she’d been horrified by what she’d seen. Her hair was lifeless. Her skin was grey and her eyes were flat. But not horrified enough to do anything about it.
But now she was. Enough was enough. She was fed up with constantly feeling so negative. It was high time she started to focus on the positives.
‘You know, maybe it’s a good thing me and Matt didn’t last,’ she said.
Kate looked at her doubtfully. ‘In what way?’
‘Well, I was just beginning to work out who I was and what I wanted. I was actually getting somewhere. So really, the last thing I needed was to get involved with someone. Especially a member of royalty.’ She tried a laugh but it came out as a strangled gasp and she cleared her throat. ‘I mean, if going out with a normal man makes me feel suffocated, can you imagine what going out with a king would be like?’
‘Hmm, I see your point.’
‘In fact,’ she said firmly, as the alcohol began to take effect on her poor emotionally battered self, ‘I’m going to become more like you.’
‘Me?’ Kate’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Crikey, really? I wouldn’t go that far. I’m a workaholic who’s never managed to hold down a relationship.’
‘Exactly. You don’t take crap from anyone. You’re single. And you’re happy, aren’t you?’
‘Well, yes, but—’
‘But nothing. I’ve made my decision. No more men. Ever. And this time I mean it.’ She drained her glass. ‘You know, I feel better already,’ she said.
‘I’m not surprised,’ Kate replied, glancing at Laura’s empty glass and raising her eyebrow.
Yes, that was the solution, thought Laura, jumping to her feet to fish her phone from the depths of her handbag where it was beeping. She couldn’t go on like this, moping all over the place. She needed to take charge. A life of celibacy. Emotional austerity. That was what she’d try. It worked for nuns, didn’t it?
She’d head home tomorrow and get on with it. She couldn’t hole up at Kate’s for ever. And if she tried hard, after a while she might be able to wake up in the morning without thinking about Matt. Maybe after a while she might be able to go to bed without thinking about Matt. And maybe, just maybe, she might get to spend a whole five minutes without thinking about Matt.
And then her heart might start to repair itself.
‘You’ll see,’ she said firmly, flipping open her phone and clicking on her email to read the one that had just popped into her inbox, ‘I’ll be—oh.’