vase she hadn't seen before. 'Sylvie, this is exquisite,' she declared, going to it. 'The shape is so unusual. So delicate. I take it it's one of yours?'
Sylvia's eyes shone with pleasure as she nodded.
'Can I pick it up?'
'Of course.'
Julia was about to do so, when she remembered how much Josh had paid for Sylvia's last piece, which they'd bought - at discount - at one of her exhibitions. Deciding not to risk it, she stood back to admire it where it was, while imagining how lovely it would look gracing a plinth in their drawing room, along with the several others they now owned.
'Going back to how you're feeling about yourself, and your family,' Sylvia said, licking oil from her fingers.
'No, let's talk about when your next book is being published,' Julia cut in. 'It must be quite soon now.'
'Actually, not until the beginning of November, but review copies will go out in advance, so let's hope they treat me gently.'
Julia smiled, for critics and public alike usually adored Sylvia's psychological thrillers, and she couldn't imagine this latest would be treated any differently. 'Have you started a new one yet?' she asked.
Sylvia shook her head. 'No, I'm taking a year off to focus on my ceramics,' she answered, looking across the room as a large bunch of flowers entered, followed by a striking, deeply tanned woman, with gleaming white teeth and a perfectly toned body.
'Julia!' Pauline cried, casting the bouquet aside. 'Sylvie told me you were coming. How lovely to see you. It's been too long.'
'At feast a month,' Julia smiled, looking into Pauline's lively brown eyes and feeling happier than ever about being here. She embraced her warmly, then cupped her pixie-like face between her hands. 'How come you never age?' she demanded. 'You still look the right side of thirty, for God's sake, and you're older than me.'
'Hey, you're the beauty amongst us,' Pauline protested, in the cultured Bostonian accent that had served her well over two decades in London. 'Mine's all Botox, highlights and a sadistic personal trainer. You look fabulous, my love.'
Julia cast her a sceptical glance. 'I've put on at least half a stone, my hair needs some serious attention and ...'
'At your height half a stone means nothing. And stop with the self-criticism. You look gorgeous, so accept the compliment and revel in it. I know this one will,' she added, holding her arms out to Sylvia. 'You look so scrumptiously unattainable, my darling, I'd tumble into bed with you right now if I was that way inclined.'
'How much easier life might be if we all were,' Sylvia responded, kissing her on both cheeks. 'Now, you've come at the right time, because Julia's having a midlife crisis and she needs our help.'
'Are you really?' Pauline cried, all fascination and concern. 'You know, my second husband was a psychiatrist... Where's the wine?'
Sylvia passed her a glass and left them discussing the woes of becoming forty while she finished preparing lunch and carried it out to the terrace. Then, once they were all settled in amongst
a forest of succulent pot plants and the riotous colours of more flowers than there was room for, she said, 'I didn't catch everything you were saying just now, so has Julia told you her second book hasn't been accepted?'
Pauline's eyes filled with sympathy as she turned to Julia.
'Please don't let's go there,' Julia protested. 'Everything about my life is a mess at the moment so I'd rather forget it.. .'
'Hey, come on,' Pauline interrupted. 'It's a big deal. Don't just brush it away. It hurts like hell to go through something like that.'
Realising that nothing ever hurt quite so much when she was sharing it with her friends, Julia said, 'But I have to ask myself, is it crushing because I truly believe in myself as a writer, or because I'm trying to be somebody in my own right and it's not working out?'
'But you are somebody,' Sylvia declared, offering her a plate of plump jalapeno-stuffed olives. 'A very important somebody
Sylvia's eyes shone with pleasure as she nodded.
'Can I pick it up?'
'Of course.'
Julia was about to do so, when she remembered how much Josh had paid for Sylvia's last piece, which they'd bought - at discount - at one of her exhibitions. Deciding not to risk it, she stood back to admire it where it was, while imagining how lovely it would look gracing a plinth in their drawing room, along with the several others they now owned.
'Going back to how you're feeling about yourself, and your family,' Sylvia said, licking oil from her fingers.
'No, let's talk about when your next book is being published,' Julia cut in. 'It must be quite soon now.'
'Actually, not until the beginning of November, but review copies will go out in advance, so let's hope they treat me gently.'
Julia smiled, for critics and public alike usually adored Sylvia's psychological thrillers, and she couldn't imagine this latest would be treated any differently. 'Have you started a new one yet?' she asked.
Sylvia shook her head. 'No, I'm taking a year off to focus on my ceramics,' she answered, looking across the room as a large bunch of flowers entered, followed by a striking, deeply tanned woman, with gleaming white teeth and a perfectly toned body.
'Julia!' Pauline cried, casting the bouquet aside. 'Sylvie told me you were coming. How lovely to see you. It's been too long.'
'At feast a month,' Julia smiled, looking into Pauline's lively brown eyes and feeling happier than ever about being here. She embraced her warmly, then cupped her pixie-like face between her hands. 'How come you never age?' she demanded. 'You still look the right side of thirty, for God's sake, and you're older than me.'
'Hey, you're the beauty amongst us,' Pauline protested, in the cultured Bostonian accent that had served her well over two decades in London. 'Mine's all Botox, highlights and a sadistic personal trainer. You look fabulous, my love.'
Julia cast her a sceptical glance. 'I've put on at least half a stone, my hair needs some serious attention and ...'
'At your height half a stone means nothing. And stop with the self-criticism. You look gorgeous, so accept the compliment and revel in it. I know this one will,' she added, holding her arms out to Sylvia. 'You look so scrumptiously unattainable, my darling, I'd tumble into bed with you right now if I was that way inclined.'
'How much easier life might be if we all were,' Sylvia responded, kissing her on both cheeks. 'Now, you've come at the right time, because Julia's having a midlife crisis and she needs our help.'
'Are you really?' Pauline cried, all fascination and concern. 'You know, my second husband was a psychiatrist... Where's the wine?'
Sylvia passed her a glass and left them discussing the woes of becoming forty while she finished preparing lunch and carried it out to the terrace. Then, once they were all settled in amongst
a forest of succulent pot plants and the riotous colours of more flowers than there was room for, she said, 'I didn't catch everything you were saying just now, so has Julia told you her second book hasn't been accepted?'
Pauline's eyes filled with sympathy as she turned to Julia.
'Please don't let's go there,' Julia protested. 'Everything about my life is a mess at the moment so I'd rather forget it.. .'
'Hey, come on,' Pauline interrupted. 'It's a big deal. Don't just brush it away. It hurts like hell to go through something like that.'
Realising that nothing ever hurt quite so much when she was sharing it with her friends, Julia said, 'But I have to ask myself, is it crushing because I truly believe in myself as a writer, or because I'm trying to be somebody in my own right and it's not working out?'
'But you are somebody,' Sylvia declared, offering her a plate of plump jalapeno-stuffed olives. 'A very important somebody
Similar Books
