Part 23 (1/2)

'Really?' He looked dubiously at the pink concoction. 'Bit girlie for me. I think I'll stick to champagne.' They clinked gla.s.ses and their eyes locked. Poppy's heart thudded.

'Have you been busy?' she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. 'Yeah. You know how it is. It's hot in here, isn't it? Shall we go outside?'

'OK.' Feeling almost hypnotized, she followed him through a door on to a roof terrace. Below them, Brick Lane was a kaleidoscopic shambles of neon curry signs, overflowing bins, mini-cabs and girls in high heels. Poppy realized she was more drunk than she'd thought.

'So, pretty married woman,' Toby said, as they leant against the iron bal.u.s.trade, 'I've been thinking about you.'

'Then why didn't you get in touch?' she blurted out.

He laughed. 'I'm here now, aren't I? Anyway. I didn't know if you wanted to see me. I mean, you are are married.' married.'

'To a husband I never see.' She was surprised how venomous her words sounded.

Toby shook his head in mock indignation. 'That's outrageous. If you were my wife I'd lock you in a cage. Never let you out of my sight.'

Her stomach flipped, as he turned round and looked into her eyes. It's going to happen. But I'm married. But he's so handsome. And he's my age. But I'm married, she thought.

'Hi guys!' yelled Meena. 'I've been looking for you!'

'Are you OK?' Poppy asked.

'I'm fine, I'm... Bleeurgh-'

Poppy and Toby's shoes were drenched in fuchsia-coloured vomit.

'Oh, s.h.i.+t.' Meena giggled, flopping about. 'Sorry.'

Poppy glanced anxiously at Toby, but he was laughing. 'Are you all right, sweetheart?'

'I'm so embarra.s.sed.' She didn't look anything of the sort, far too gone for that.

'Ah, come on. It happens to us all.'

Poppy looked at him, more smitten than ever. Most guys would have been furious to have their shoes puked on. Luke Luke would have been furious. would have been furious.

'Awurrgh!' cried Meena, as the pizza she'd eaten for lunch mingling with some Thai mini-bites flew into a conveniently situated plant pot.

'Jesus.' Toby turned to Poppy. 'I think you'd better get her home.'

'I'll be OK,' Meena managed to say. 'I can get home by myself.'

'Well, if you're sure,' Poppy said immediately. She didn't want to leave right now.

'Don't be silly,' Toby said, 'you're in a terrible state. I'll I'll take you home.' He looked at her. 'Poppy, are you going to come?' take you home.' He looked at her. 'Poppy, are you going to come?'

Poppy knew she'd been judged and found wanting. 'Of course,' she said.

Toby found them a taxi. The traffic was light and it only took forty minutes to get back to Kilburn. Toby sat in the front making calls on his mobile to people called Sergei and Vladimir, Poppy sat in the back with Meena beside her fast asleep. They had to shake her awake to get her out on to the street and through the flimsy front door and up the stairs with its fraying brown carpet.

It was weird being back in the flat, like visiting some Tracey Emin style museum of Poppy's life. Meena had never got round to finding a new flatmate, so the place was virtually identical to when Poppy had lived there: there were the same gaudy Indian prints on the wall, the same tatty throw over the orange sofa, the same pile of magazines on the coffee table, the same curtains that looked like evidence from the Texas chainsaw ma.s.sacre, probably the same dirty mugs in the sink untouched since the day of Poppy's departure. She'd thought that old carefree side of her had died, but perhaps now it was being reborn.

'I think you should stay the night,' Toby said, once Meena was tucked up in bed in bra and knickers, a bucket beside her. 'She might throw up in her sleep.'

'I can't!' Poppy exclaimed. 'I've got a little girl to get back to.'

'Oh, so you do. I keep forgetting.' He frowned. 'I guess I'd better stay then. It's not safe to leave her on her own.'

A trail of jealousy slithered down Poppy's spine like a fat slug. 'Well, I could call my nanny,' she said. 'See if she can stay over.'

Brigita was as obliging as ever.

'Of course, Mummy. Go out on t'p.i.s.s. Enjoy yourself.'

'I'm not enjoying myself,' Poppy said loftily. 'I'm looking after my sick friend.'

'Whatever. Clara and I'll be reight.'

'Er, OK,' said Poppy hoping, as so often, she'd understood Brigita's gist. She hung up and turned to Toby who was b.u.t.toning his coat.

'Do you know a minicab number?' he asked.

'There's a firm next door.'

'Is there? Great. That'll save me having to wait for hours.' Seeing Poppy's woebegone face, he pecked her on the lips, then more tenderly stroked her hair.

'I'd like to stay but people need me.' He bent down and kissed Poppy on the cheek. 'You're a nice person, Poppy, looking after your friend.'

'Thank you,' she said, guilty that it wasn't quite so simple.

There was a tiny pause. They looked at each other, then Toby leant forward and took her face in his hands and suddenly they were kissing hungrily.

'I can't do this,' she said, just as he gasped, 'You're so lovely.' They looked at each other pa.s.sionately, then the moment was broken by the strains of OutKast's 'Hey Ya' blaring from Toby's jeans' pocket.

's.h.i.+t,' he said, pulling out his phone. Poppy expected him to turn it off, but instead he said, 'h.e.l.lo, Constantine? Yeah. Fine. Well, look, I'm a bit busy right now but I can be with you in, what, an hour? Is that OK?' He turned back to Poppy. 'Sorry about that, darling.' He kissed her on the lips, but this time perfunctorily. 'I wish I could stay,' he said again, 'but I've got people to see. I'm just going to use the bathroom.'

Poppy sat on the sofa. Suddenly she was cold. She pulled Meena's slightly grimy fake fur throw round her.

Toby was gone quite a while. When he returned he seemed a bit different, brisker somehow, more detached.

's.h.i.+t, I've really got to get a move on.'

She'd heard it all before from Luke. But instead of arguing, she smiled like a plucky landgirl.

'I'll see you soon,' Toby said, his hand on the doork.n.o.b. 'Call you tomorrow. Now you take care. Look after Meena.'