her tendency to over-share, her loud voice, and her laugh, which was only ever a sentence away from erupting. Romilly placed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder and pushed her forward. ‘This is Celeste. Our daughter.’
Celeste stood in front of her mum, her thick, mousey-brown hair hanging against her pale face, from which large eyes shone.
‘Say hello, darling!’ Romilly prompted.
‘Oh, wow! She’s gorgeous!’ Sara gasped.
Romilly grinned. Yes, she was.
The little girl walked forward and gave a shy wave.
‘Oh goodness, you’re so pretty! Do you go to school?’
Celeste took a step backwards as Sara bent down and looked her in the eye.
‘I go to Merrydown Juniors. I’m five,’ Celeste whispered, wary of the woman who acted as familiar as Aunty Carrie and Aunty Holly but was actually a stranger.
‘Oh, I can tell you are a Merrydown girl! But I would have thought you were at least seven.’ Sara’s eyes twinkled.
Celeste beamed, delighted by the compliment, and ran off to watch the telly.
Sara straightened. ‘Do you work, Rom?’
Romilly was a little taken aback at the woman’s presumption, abbreviating her name when it was usually only family and close friends that called her ‘Rom’.
‘Err, yes. I’m a scientist. An entomologist.’ She still got a kick out of announcing her non-standard profession.
‘Good God!’ Sara raised a carefully shaped eyebrow. ‘A what?’
Romilly laughed. ‘I work for a biopharmaceutical company. I’m an expert on insects, so I help them look at how best to protect crops, keep bugs away and things like that.’
‘Oh shit, it’s not that GHD stuff, is it? The one that if you feed it to chickens they get born with three heads and if it gets into my cornflakes my tits will fall off?’
Romilly giggled out loud; Sara was quite unlike anyone she knew. ‘I think you mean GMO not GHD and no, it’s nothing to do with that. Your tits are quite safe.’ She giggled again.
‘Good. I would hate to think of all that money of Neil’s going to waste!’ She placed her hands under the inflated cups and pushed her breasts upwards. ‘You have great tits too, if you don’t mind me saying.’
Romilly stared at her. ‘Err, no! I just don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before – my husband possibly, but certainly not on our first meeting!’
‘Well, he should have. You have a fab set and great hair; you’ve got that whole Jessica Rabbit thing going on.’
Romilly laughed, loudly. ‘I think Jessica Rabbit was slightly more hourglass than me and definitely didn’t wear glasses, or cardigans.’
‘Rom…’ Sara placed her hand on her arm. ‘I always say there are a dozen people waiting to put you down and knock the confidence out of you, so don’t do it to yourself. You are a very sexy lady and you should celebrate it!’
‘You think?’
‘I know!’ Sara winked.
‘Would you like a drink?’ Romilly liked their new neighbour. She liked her very much.
Sara looked at her watch. ‘It’s nearly five o’clock and in my house it’s practically illegal not to have a glass of plonk at this time.’ She banged the countertop. ‘You and me are going to be great mates, I can tell.’
Romilly smiled and went to the fridge. She didn’t need an excuse for a glass of wine, but having someone to drink it with made a welcome change. David rarely shared a bottle with her any more. He’d embarked on a health kick a couple of years earlier and had become very conscious of what he ate and drank. He seemed to be always training for some marathon or other and watching his calorie intake was now second nature. These days he only drank occasionally and could be quite disapproving of Romilly’s daily plonk. It was the one thing they regularly clashed over.
It didn’t matter how many times she explained to him how everyone drank wine, literally everyone! The lady in the post office, the girl in the chippy, practically every parent at school and even her
Celeste stood in front of her mum, her thick, mousey-brown hair hanging against her pale face, from which large eyes shone.
‘Say hello, darling!’ Romilly prompted.
‘Oh, wow! She’s gorgeous!’ Sara gasped.
Romilly grinned. Yes, she was.
The little girl walked forward and gave a shy wave.
‘Oh goodness, you’re so pretty! Do you go to school?’
Celeste took a step backwards as Sara bent down and looked her in the eye.
‘I go to Merrydown Juniors. I’m five,’ Celeste whispered, wary of the woman who acted as familiar as Aunty Carrie and Aunty Holly but was actually a stranger.
‘Oh, I can tell you are a Merrydown girl! But I would have thought you were at least seven.’ Sara’s eyes twinkled.
Celeste beamed, delighted by the compliment, and ran off to watch the telly.
Sara straightened. ‘Do you work, Rom?’
Romilly was a little taken aback at the woman’s presumption, abbreviating her name when it was usually only family and close friends that called her ‘Rom’.
‘Err, yes. I’m a scientist. An entomologist.’ She still got a kick out of announcing her non-standard profession.
‘Good God!’ Sara raised a carefully shaped eyebrow. ‘A what?’
Romilly laughed. ‘I work for a biopharmaceutical company. I’m an expert on insects, so I help them look at how best to protect crops, keep bugs away and things like that.’
‘Oh shit, it’s not that GHD stuff, is it? The one that if you feed it to chickens they get born with three heads and if it gets into my cornflakes my tits will fall off?’
Romilly giggled out loud; Sara was quite unlike anyone she knew. ‘I think you mean GMO not GHD and no, it’s nothing to do with that. Your tits are quite safe.’ She giggled again.
‘Good. I would hate to think of all that money of Neil’s going to waste!’ She placed her hands under the inflated cups and pushed her breasts upwards. ‘You have great tits too, if you don’t mind me saying.’
Romilly stared at her. ‘Err, no! I just don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before – my husband possibly, but certainly not on our first meeting!’
‘Well, he should have. You have a fab set and great hair; you’ve got that whole Jessica Rabbit thing going on.’
Romilly laughed, loudly. ‘I think Jessica Rabbit was slightly more hourglass than me and definitely didn’t wear glasses, or cardigans.’
‘Rom…’ Sara placed her hand on her arm. ‘I always say there are a dozen people waiting to put you down and knock the confidence out of you, so don’t do it to yourself. You are a very sexy lady and you should celebrate it!’
‘You think?’
‘I know!’ Sara winked.
‘Would you like a drink?’ Romilly liked their new neighbour. She liked her very much.
Sara looked at her watch. ‘It’s nearly five o’clock and in my house it’s practically illegal not to have a glass of plonk at this time.’ She banged the countertop. ‘You and me are going to be great mates, I can tell.’
Romilly smiled and went to the fridge. She didn’t need an excuse for a glass of wine, but having someone to drink it with made a welcome change. David rarely shared a bottle with her any more. He’d embarked on a health kick a couple of years earlier and had become very conscious of what he ate and drank. He seemed to be always training for some marathon or other and watching his calorie intake was now second nature. These days he only drank occasionally and could be quite disapproving of Romilly’s daily plonk. It was the one thing they regularly clashed over.
It didn’t matter how many times she explained to him how everyone drank wine, literally everyone! The lady in the post office, the girl in the chippy, practically every parent at school and even her
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