My Single Friend by Jane Costello

Author:Jane Costello [Costello, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Chick-Lit, cookie429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 9781849832694
Publisher: Isis Large Print
Published: 2010-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 41

Every April, one of the most spectacular sporting events in the world takes place ten miles from where I live. Much of the UK, half of Ireland, and a few from elsewhere in the world descend on the city. At least, it feels like it.

The Grand National Festival at Aintree Racecourse is the ultimate day out, no matter which of the three days you attend. But today – Saturday – is when the big race itself is run and you can feel excitement buzzing in the air. I know as much about horse racing as I do about particle science, but that’s irrelevant. To me, the event is about white wine on sunny spring afternoons, girls dressed to the nines, and more fun than you’d find outside the walls of a Bouncy Castle.

It is compulsory to attend with a group of friends, the law of averages dictating that at least one will win enough, either on the Grand National itself, or the races before it, to treat the losers to a curry at the end of the day.

We are here en masse on what is, miraculously, the warmest day of the year so far: Henry and Rachel, Dominique and Justin, Erin and a guy she works with called Carl. And Paul and I.

He arrived to pick me up at eleven-thirty on the dot this morning and when I answered the door he was every bit as attractive as when we first met.

He’s been the perfect gentleman all morning, holding open doors, bestowing compliments on me and lavishing attention on my friends. I can tell Dominique is impressed by the way she keeps winking at me when his back is turned.

‘You ladies look absolutely amazing,’ says Paul, as we head to the racecourse gates. He’s right. Erin is beautiful in her printed dress and a wide brimmed hat. Dominique is stunning in figure-hugging pink and heels so high it’ll be a miracle if she’s not in traction by the end of the day. And Rachel is more gorgeous than ever in a tailored trouser suit with plunging scarlet top and a red rose in her hair.

As for me: well, my outfit took me three months to unearth – which I know is probably longer than Howard Carter took to find Tutankhamun’s tomb, but believe me is worth it. My yellow dress is a dead ringer for Liz Hurley’s Roberto Cavalli number but was a fraction of the cost.

‘Let’s do this properly,’ says Paul, producing his wallet outside the Princess Royal stand. ‘Who’s for champagne?’

‘I like your style,’ Dominique tells him, and I feel a stab of pride.

‘Are you sure?’ asks Erin. ‘I bet it won’t be cheap.’

Paul grins. ‘It’s a special occasion. Besides, I backed a couple of winners yesterday when I was here for Ladies’ Day with my friends.’

A shiver runs down my spine at the mention of his friends but I keep smiling to maintain the illusion I’m as big a fan as him. Paul heads to the bar and returns with a bottle of Moët & Chandon and eight glasses on a tray.

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