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Jennifer grinned.

      ‘I’m not sure about that. Noel Fenton was introducing him to Gareth a while ago.’

      ‘What?’ Jennifer’s jaw slackened. ‘You mean Noel Fenton was here and I didn’t notice?’ Her face screwed itself into total dismay. ‘Damn it! That probably means he didn’t notice me either.’

      Amy looked suddenly thoughtful. ‘Noel is Nigel’s registrar.’

      ‘I know that.’ Jennifer leaned back against the wall, clearly grateful for a short respite. ‘Just because Noel is indescribably gorgeous doesn’t make Nigel suitable, however. You could do so much better for yourself, Amy.’

      ‘I haven’t so far.’ Amy lost her train of thought regarding Noel Fenton. ‘I’m nearly thirty, Jen.’

      ‘So? You’re gorgeous. Far too good for Mr Wesley.’ She nudged Amy. ‘You might have hazel eyes instead of blue but, as Patrick says, you’re an angel, to be sure.’

      Amy laughed. ‘If I’m so terrific, how come all my romances have been such dismal failures?’ she countered.

      ‘You just haven’t found the right man.’

      Amy took a deep breath. ‘Maybe I have now.’

      ‘Ha!’ Jennifer shook her head vigorously. ‘For God’s sake, Amy. Nigel Wesley still lives with his mother!’

      ‘It’s a huge house. She has a completely self-contained wing. They lead totally separate lives.’

      Jennifer eyed her dubiously.

      ‘The house is awesome, Jen. You really should come and see it. There’s an indoor swimming pool and a conservatory. Six bedrooms and all of them have en suite bathrooms.’

      ‘You sound like a real estate agent.’

      ‘The garden’s well worth seeing. It got photographed for House and Garden last year.’

      ‘It’ll be dark.’

      ‘It’s floodlit,’ Amy told her enthusiastically. ‘And the kitchen’s amazing. All stainless steel and very high tech.’

      ‘Sounds like an operating theatre.’ Jennifer giggled. ‘Does the food come out on a tray covered with a sterile drape?’

      ‘There’s a breakfast room that leads into the conservatory. It has cane furniture and lots of bright cushions. It’s really rather nice.’

      ‘You sound like you’re planning to move in.’

      Amy’s hesitation was just long enough for Jennifer’s eyes to widen in a horrified expression. ‘This party that you’re so keen to drag me along to tonight. You’re not…’ Jennifer swallowed deliberately. ‘It’s not for some special announcement, is it?’

      ‘Please, come, Jen.’ Amy bit her lip. ‘I need you there. I need someone on my side.’

      ‘If it feels like a battle then it’s not right. Don’t do it, Amy.’

      ‘I’m not talking about Nigel. It’s the rest of them I’m not so sure of. And I don’t think his mother really likes me.’ Desperation planted a last ray of hope for Amy as she remembered her earlier inspiration. ‘Hey, Jen? What if I got Nigel to invite Noel Fenton to the party?’

      ‘He’d probably bring his wife.’

      ‘I don’t think he’s married. In fact, I’m sure he isn’t. You could wear something gorgeous and he’d have to notice you. You’d stand out a mile amongst all those consultants’ wives.’ Amy had noticed the gleam of interest her friend was trying to disguise. ‘I can see it now,’ she said cunningly. ‘There they all are. Middle-aged and dressed in sophisticated but terribly boring black evening dresses. And there you are—wearing something—’

      ‘Black,’ Jennifer supplied. She grinned at Amy’s frown. ‘But black with a difference.’ She straightened and headed for the door. ‘I like it,’ she announced. ‘I think I will come to your party after all.’

      Amy breathed an inward sigh of relief. A bit of moral support was all she needed to make the evening perfect.

      ‘You know…’ Jennifer had paused in the sluice room doorway to glance back at Amy. ‘I think tonight might just be a turning point in life.’

      Amy nodded happily. ‘For both of us.’ She was still smiling as Jennifer disappeared. It was certainly going to be the turning point of her own life.

      Amy Brooks had no doubt at all about that.

       CHAPTER TWO

      THE nudge from Jennifer Bowman’s elbow was none too gentle.

      ‘What is that, might I ask?’

      Amy’s smile was embarrassed. ‘It’s a string quartet,’ she admitted.

      ‘And where is it?’

      ‘In the conservatory.’

      ‘And where is Noel?’ Jennifer asked pointedly.

      ‘I’m not sure.’ Amy cast a hopeful glance at the new faces appearing in the crowded drawing room. ‘He’ll be here very soon, I expect.’

      ‘He’d better be,’ Jennifer muttered darkly. She, too, glanced at the gathering of people. ‘This is even worse than I expected. Look—half of them are drinking sherry.’

      ‘I see you found the champagne, though.’

      ‘Of course. Where’s yours?’

      ‘I finished it already.’ Amy bit her lip. ‘I think I was a bit nervous.’

      ‘So? Have another one.’ Jennifer signalled a waiter who arrived at her side bearing a tray of crystal flutes, the pale gold liquid they contained fizzing discreetly. Jen winked at Amy. ‘I could get used to this. I’m even beginning to understand the attraction of Nigel Wesley.’

      ‘Shh. You promised you wouldn’t say anything.’ Amy took a sip from her glass. ‘I’m supposed to be in the foyer with Nigel, greeting the new arrivals. He’ll be wondering why I’m taking so long in the bathroom.’

      ‘Let him wonder,’ Jennifer advised. ‘Every woman needs a mystery or two.’

      ‘Where did you disappear to when I was in the bathroom?’

      ‘I was checking out the conservatory.’ Jennifer waved vaguely behind her then grinned at Amy. ‘You’ll never believe this, but I met a vampire.’

      ‘Oh, sure.’ Amy took another sip of champagne. Thank goodness Jen had agreed to come to this party. She could almost pretend she was enjoying herself despite the fact that they were being largely ignored by the people around them.

      ‘I’m not kidding. There was this tall, tall woman with dead white skin and jet black hair, all scraped back into a net thing. She had blood red lips and matching nails.’

      Amy couldn’t stifle her smile. ‘I think you just met Lorraine.’

      ‘Who’s Lorraine?’

      ‘Nigel’s mother.’

      ‘No!’ Jen breathed. ‘How old is she?’

      ‘I don’t know. Must be in her sixties, I guess.’

      Jen looked thoughtful. ‘Maybe scraping your hair back tightly enough has the same effect as a face lift. She doesn’t look that old.’ Jennifer leaned closer to Amy. ‘Then again,’ she whispered, ‘being unable to go out in daylight might work quite well, too.’

      Amy giggled with genuine amusement but the pleasure died swiftly as the subject of their conversation appeared

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