As Ed surveys all the faces at the table, it’s obvious his nightmare has just got about fifty times worse. I almost feel sorry for him.
“That’s… that’s right,” he says at last, as though he can’t quite believe it himself. “We were dancing.” He seems to come to. “Lara, do you know Genevieve Bailey from DFT? Genevieve, Lara. Hello, Bill, Mike, Sarah…” He’s nodding at all the people sitting round the table.
“Your dress is adorable.” Genevieve flicks a condescending glance over my outfit. “Going for the twenties look, obviously.”
“It’s original.” I nod.
“I have no doubt!”
I smile as best I can, but she’s touched a nerve. I don’t want to be dressed up like something out of a Daily Mail vintage-dolls collection series. Especially not in front of what’s clearly a collection of high-profile businesspeople.
“I’ll just touch up my makeup.” I force another smile. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
In the ladies’ room, I get out a tissue, wet it, and frantically scrub at my face. But nothing seems to be coming off.
“What are you doing?” Sadie appears behind me. “You’ll ruin your face!”
“Just trying to tone down the color,” I say between jerky rubs.
“Oh, that rouge won’t come off,” says Sadie airily. “It’s indelible. Lasts for days. The lipstick too.”
Indelible?
“Where did you learn to dance?” Sadie inserts herself between me and the mirror.
“I didn’t. You don’t learn to dance. You just pick it up.”
“Well, it shows. You’re terrible.”
“Well, you’re totally over the top,” I retort, stung. “You looked like you wanted to jump his bones right there!”
“‘Jump his bones.’” Sadie frowns. “What do you mean?”
“It means… You know.” I stop awkwardly. I’m not sure bone-jumping is something I want to be discussing with my great-aunt.
“What?” Sadie says impatiently. “What does it mean?”
“You do it with someone else.” I choose my words carefully. “It’s like a pajama party. Except you take off your pajamas.”
“Oh, that.” Her face clicks with recognition. “You call it ‘jumping his bones’?”
“Sometimes.” I shrug.
“What an odd phrase. We used to call it sex.”
“Oh,” I say, discomfited. “Well. We do too-”
“Or barney-mugging,” she adds.
Barney-mugging? And she has the nerve to call jump his bones an odd phrase?
I tug at it and survey my reflection grumpily.
“I look so ridiculous.”
“You look divine. You’re the prettiest girl in the place. Apart from me,” she adds airily.
“Do you know how stupid I feel?” I rub at my cheeks again. “No, of course not. All you care about is your date.”
“I’ll tell you something,” says Sadie, watching me critically in the mirror. “You’ve got a film star’s mouth. In my day, all the girls died to have a mouth like that. You could have been in the pictures.”