“Don’t say anything,” she said, catching the small smile on Bets lips, “and keep that dog away from me!”

“Do you want to borrow some clothes?” Bets asked, throwing herself back onto the sofa.

“Please, I’m soaking.”

“Well you know where they are, and sort your hair out while you’re at it; frizzy isn’t the word.”

Charlotte tutted and disappeared in the direction of Bets’ bedroom only to reappear ten minutes later looking a lot dryer and warmer, but still looking rough with frizzy hair. She plonked herself at the other end of the sofa to Bets and hauled the duvet over her legs.

“What?” she exclaimed, noticing Bets’ eyes looking at her hair. “Some of us don’t have naturally beautiful hair; some of us suffer from dampness.” Charlotte raised her eyes towards her mass of brunette hair pulled up in a hair band. “Anyway, what time did you leave this morning?” she asked rubbing her feet together to generate some more heat.

“Ooh about 9 o’clock I think. Didn’t you hear Kelvin laughing at us? He is so dead next time I see him,” muttered Bets as she rubbed her temples to try and ease her headache.

“Did he enjoy Ryan’s stag night?” Charlotte pulled her sleeves down over her hands.

“I think so; he said that they were home for midnight though. They did the usual, beer and curry, they’ve no imagination have they, men?”

“So did he say whether Stuart was there or not?” asked Charlotte coyly.

Stuart was Bets’ latest fantasy. He fancied her like mad, but she was playing it cool and trying to stay in control by dangling him on a string. Bets screwed up her nose as she peered over the top of the duvet at Charlotte.

“What makes you think that I asked?” she said. “It’s not like I’m interested.”

Charlotte tutted so loudly that Alfred stirred from his slumber by the fire. He opened one eye but when no one moved on the sofa he rested his head back on his paws and went back to sleep.

“I really can’t believe that you said that! You are so interested that you could have him as your specialist subject on Mastermind. You have scored 50 points and no passes; get real Bets you want him so badly,” laughed Charlotte, staring at Bets wide eyed.

Bets grinned at the thought of having the wonderful Stuart; he of the lithe gym instructor’s body, handsome chiselled jaw and piercing blue eyes.

“Yeah, well I don’t want him to know that,” she giggled.



Bets had been playing the game with Stuart ever since she had first met him in the summer at a barbeque at Kerry and Kelvin’s house. He had made a beeline for her straightaway because on that evening, having just returned from a two weeks holiday in Greece, Bets looked particularly beautiful. When Stuart introduced himself as “Kelvin’s friend, Stuart; I run the new gym in town,” Bets feigned disinterest.

“Oh yes, I think I’ve heard Kerry mention you,” she said dismissively, even though she knew exactly who he was. “You’re a friend of Kerry’s aren’t you?” he said, looking her straight in the eyes with alarming intensity.

“Yes I’m Bets, Kerry’s friend from school. In fact I really should help her to put some food out. Nice to meet you, erm… Stuart wasn’t it?”

With that she was gone to join Kerry and Charlotte in the kitchen not to help out but to grill Kerry for more information on the lovely Stuart.

And so the cat and mouse game had gone on throughout the summer. Charlotte’s party, Kelvin’s birthday meal and the Christening of Kerry and Kelvin’s baby, Esme. Stuart was at Bets’ side on each occasion, leaving just the right amount of time so that he didn’t appear to be stalking her. She would flirt back, laugh at his jokes, touch his arm when she spoke, smile with her eyes at him over the rim of her glass, and then just when she thought that he was going to ask her out she would go, muttering something about helping Charlotte or having to mingle.



“SO!”

“So what?” asked Bets, burrowing further under the duvet?

“Was he there or not?” Charlotte shook her head in despair. “Why haven’t you two got together yet?” Bets opened her mouth to answer, but Charlotte held up the palm of her hand to indicate that she hadn’t finished her diatribe. “I know, I know, you say you don’t want the commitment and that you enjoy playing the field because it makes you still feel young, but that’s not really the case, is it Bets?”