It had been so very long since she had last been made love to. It sometimes seemed more like eighteen years than eighteen months and Janey had wondered if she would remember how it was done.

But magically . . . miraculously . . . she was remembering now, and the reality was even more blissful than the memories. Bruno, the self-acknowledged expert, was proving to her that he wasn’t all mouth and no trousers, and she had no complaints at all. She no longer even cared that it was ridiculously late, and that she had to be up early. Just for once, the flowers could wait.

She was having the time of her life and she had no intention of asking him to hurry such delicious proceedings along...

The hammering at the front door downstairs sounded like thunder, making them both jump.

‘What the ... !’ exclaimed Bruno, rolling away from her and cracking his ankle against the leg of the coffee table. ‘Ouch. Bloody hell!’

Janey froze as the hammering started up again. As she scrambled to her feet a loud, authoritative voice from the street below shouted: ‘Open up! Police. This is an emergency.’

‘Oh my God, what is it?’ She stared fearfully at Bruno. Her knees were trembling and all she was wearing was her jewellery.

‘Police. Open up!’ repeated the voice outside.

Running to her bedroom, Janey grabbed her dressing gown and threw it on, fumbling to tie the belt as she made her way downstairs. An emergency could only be a bomb scare or a major gas leak, she thought frantically, her mind whirling as she considered the possibilities. Unless something terrible had happened to Maxine.

As soon as she unlocked the door it crashed open.

‘Surprise!’ yelled Maxine gleefully. Clinging to the arm of one of her companions, who was six and a half feet tall and built like Arnold Schwarzenegger, she ricocheted off the open door and clutched Janey’s shoulder with her free hand.

Before Janey could react, four more men piled through, squeezing themselves into the narrow hallway and chorusing: "Ello, ‘ello, ‘ello, what ‘ave we ‘ere then?’

‘This wallpaper, Constable,’ barked one of them. ‘Arrest it immediately.’

‘What about the dressing gown, Detective Inspector?’ demanded another.

‘Arrest the wallpaper first, Constable. Charge it with being pink.’

‘Aye, aye, sir. And the dressing gown, sir? What shall I charge that with?’

‘Easy peasy,’ yelled Maxine, by this time almost helpless with laughter. ‘Grievous bodily harm!’

Each of the cricketers was over six feet tall. Janey had never felt so small in her life.

‘OK, very funny,’ she said evenly. ‘Now get out.’

‘Can’t get out, only just got in,’ protested the man she had seen at Berenice’s wedding, the one who was with Maxine. Behind him, his even taller friend was solemnly addressing the wall:

‘... but ‘I have to warn you that anything you do say will be taken down and used in evidence.’

‘Out,’ repeated Janey, her voice firm.

‘In-out-in-out, shake it all about,’ chanted the other two. To her absolute horror they were pushing past her, hokey-cokeying towards the stairs.

‘She said you’d make us a cup of coffee,’ explained Maxine’s cricketer with what he no doubt thought was a beguiling grin. ‘Oh come on, Janey, don’t be cross. We won’t stay long. We aren’t really arresting your wallpaper.’

Frantic with worry that any minute now they were going to come face to face with Bruno –

there wasn’t even room for him to hide in her wardrobe – she wrenched the front door open again and glared at Maxine as ferociously as she knew how.

‘No! You’re all drunk and you aren’t getting any coffee. Now leave.’

Maxine, unperturbed by the lack of welcome, simply giggled. ‘Gosh, Janey, has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful when you’re angry? And we’re not drunk, just ... merry. I’ve told you a million times, don’t exaggerate.’

This was awful. Janey considered bursting into tears to show them she meant it.

But Maxine was on a mission and she wasn’t about to allow an unco-operative elder sister to put her off. ‘One quick coffee,’ she insisted, attempting to prise Janey away from the door.

‘Well, one each would be even better. You see, darling, we felt sorry for you ... no man, no social life ... so we thought we’d come and cheer you up. Now isn’t that a kind gesture?’ She broke off, observing Janey’s stony expression, and pouted. ‘Oh cheer up, Janey. You could at least be a teeny bit grateful.’

Janey would have preferred to be a teeny bit violent. The next moment she swung round in panic. The hokeycokeyers, after several wobbly false starts, had actually made it up the staircase.

As she watched them lurch towards the door at the top of the stairs, one of them bawled: ‘Open, sesame!’

And to her horror, it did.

‘I say, what a brilliant trick,’ said Maxine. Then, as Bruno appeared in the doorway, she did a classic double-take. ‘Oh I definitely say! No wonder you didn’t want to let us in. Two’s company, seven’s a crowd. Or an orgy ...’

Bruno’s pink-and-grey striped shirt and grey trousers were only slightly crumpled, and he had combed his hair. Having had time to compose himself, he was also looking amazingly relaxed.

‘I’ve made the coffee,’ he said, meeting Janey’s petrified gaze. ‘But there’s no milk left, so it’ll have to be black.’ Pausing to survey the state of the astonished, bleary-eyed cricketers, he added pointedly, ‘Under the circumstances, maybe it’s just as well.’

‘So now we’re getting down to the nitty gritty,’ crowed Maxine when Bruno had made his excuses and left. The cricketers, having piled into the tiny kitchen, were trying to remember whether or not they took sugar. Maxine, sitting cross-legged on the floor, was avid for details.

‘The secret life of Janey Sinclair! Not only is she having a rip-roaring affair with a practically married man, but she has the confidence to do it in a ten-year-old towelling dressing gown.’

‘I am not having an affair with Bruno.’ Janey struggled to remain calm. If she lost her temper, Maxine would know for sure she’d struck gold. She had to be plausible. ‘If I was,’ she added, improvising rapidly, ‘I wouldn’t be wearing this dressing gown, would I?’

‘Hmm. I wouldn’t put it past you,’ retorted Maxine, still looking deeply suspicious. ‘In that case, why are you wearing it?’

‘We went out for a meal. I spilled red wine on my jeans.’ This, at least, was the truth.

Gesturing towards the bathroom she said, ‘They’re soaking in the basin, if you’d like to check for yourself. Or maybe you’d prefer to send them off to Forensic.’

‘So you went out to dinner and came back here afterwards for a nightcap? You sat here chatting and didn’t notice the time? I’m sorry darling, but I don’t believe you.’

Inwardly close to despair, Janey said. ‘Well you’re just going to have to. Because if I was having an affair with Bruno I’d tell you. But I’m not, so there’s nothing to tell. Got it?’

‘Don’t be-lieve you,’ repeated Maxine in a singsong voice.

‘Oh for God’s sake, it’s the truth! Why can’t you see that?’

Maxine unravelled herself and leaned slowly forwards. ‘Because I’m the untidy sister,’ she said joyfully, ‘and you’re the efficient, organized one.’

‘What?’

Reaching under the sofa, Maxine pulled out the primrose bra which Janey had been wearing earlier and which Bruno had missed when he’d bundled up the rest of her clothes and slung them on the bed. ‘Exhibit number one, m’lud,’ she said, her expression triumphant. ‘And no need for further cross-examination. Leaving items of lacy underwear beneath the settee? Janey, it just isn’t you.’

Chapter 19

Elsie Ellis, who lived above the bakery next door and who thrived on gossip, wasted no time the following morning. Bustling into Janey’s shop with a self-important air and exuding as she always did the aroma of chocolate doughnuts, she was scarcely able to contain her impatience as Janey served the customer who’d beaten her m there by thirty seconds.

The customer was Serena Charlton, looking very chic in a midnight-blue off-the-shoulder tee-shirt, slender white skirt and navy-and-gold shoes. ‘It’s my mother’s birthday tomorrow,’ she explained, flipping a credit card on to the counter. ‘It’s so hard to know what to get them, isn’t it? And I’ve left it rather late. As a matter of fact, it was Maxine who suggested I came to you.’

At the mention of Maxine’s name, Elsie’s chins began to wobble. Janey, steadfastly ignoring her and thinking that putting a bit of business her way was the least Maxine could do to make up for last night, took out her order pad and uncapped a biro.

‘Something around the fifty-pound mark,’ Serena continued vaguely, gazing around the shop in search of inspiration. ‘Oh I don’t know. Flowers aren’t really my thing. Any kind, as long as they’re white.’

Fifty pounds, white, wrote Janey. Lifting her head she said, ‘And the message?’

Serena cast around for further inspiration. Finally, it came. ‘Happy Birthday, Love Serena.’

My word, thought Janey. You ought to write a book.

When Serena had finished reciting her mother’s address she added, ‘Oh yes, I nearly forgot.

Maxine wanted me to ask you how you’re feeling this morning. She mentioned something about a late night.’

Elsie’s chins exploded into life once more. This time she couldn’t control herself. ‘Funny you should mention Maxine,’ she said, dying to know exactly what had happened and equally curious to discover the identity of the glamorous, dark-haired girl. ‘I could hardly believe it when that incredible racket started up at two o’clock this morning. All that hammering on your front door and thumping around ... nearly fell out of bed with the shock of it, I did!’

‘Really?’ Serena looked faintly amused. ‘And what was it?’

Janey, saying nothing, gazed at Elsie.

‘Well, I peeped out of my window.’ Elsie’s chest now swelled with self-importance as she turned to address Serena. ‘It was dark, mind you, and I didn’t have my glasses on, but I could see enough. It was young Maxine herself, with a whole bunch of plain-clothes policemen, and they said it was an emergency. Looked to me like she’d been arrested.’

Janey, who didn’t see why she should have to explain anything, simply gave Elsie an unhelpful smile.

‘So that’s why I felt ‘I should pop round and find out if you were both all right,’ said Elsie, disappointed by the lack of response. ‘It’s only natural, after all, to worry when something like that happens. I just hope Maxine isn’t in any serious trouble.’ she concluded with relish.

‘There’s no need for you to worry about anything,’ Janey assured her, running Serena’s credit card through the machine and giving her the slip to sign. ‘It’s all been sorted out now, and Maxine is fine. It was nice of you, though, to be so concerned.’

Serena watched Elsie leave the shop. ‘Well,’ she said, calmly sliding the credit card back inside an expensive purse, ‘you can say one thing about Maxine.’

Janey could think of several but they weren’t wonderfully polite. Instead she said, ‘What’s that?’ Senena smiled. ‘She certainly lives life to the full.’

When the cricketers had departed to play cricket somewhere in the north of England, Maxine had been briefly despondent. Only briefly, though. The very next day, whilst walking along the beach with Josh and Ella, she had encountered Tom.

‘Bleeeuchh!’ yelled Tom, coming awake with a jolt. Josh, who had been running, had stumbled against an abandoned shoe and inadvertently sent up a fountain of sand. Tom, spitting it out of his mouth, glared at Josh.

‘Gosh, sorry,’ said Josh. ‘I didn’t mean to do it.’

‘It was my fault.’ Maxine, removing her sunglasses, grinned down at the body on the sand.

It was quite the nicest body she’d seen in ... ooh, twenty-four hours. ‘HI hadn’t been chasing him, he wouldn’t have tripped.’

She was wearing a pastel pink bikini and her long, blond hair was tied back with a pink scarf. Tom’s mood improved almost at once.

It doesn’t matter.’ Ruefully wiping his cheek, he said, ‘It’s a long time since anyone kicked sand in my face.’

‘I should think it was.’ Maxine admired his biceps. ‘Do you weight-train?’

‘Three times a week.’ Tom was intensely proud of his physique. ‘Have to,’ he added, because he was also an incurable show-off. ‘When you’re out in the lifeboat it might mean the difference between life and death.’

‘The lifeboat?’ gasped Maxine, playing it to the hilt and deciding that Josh had earned himself an ice cream at the very least. The dazzling smile came into play. ‘Goodness, you must be incredibly brave ...’