She orders a latte and sits at a table on the pavement. Yesterday’s rain has let up and the air is nippy but fragrant in its wake, the scent of freshly cut lawns, coffee, and wet earth filling Bianka’s nostrils as she draws her breath.
Linda’s street is one-way so if she leaves by car, Bianka will see her. If she is already out and heading back home, she’d have to take the parallel road, meaning Bianka would miss her. She’s barely taken a couple of sips of her admittedly glorious coffee when a slight woman pulled along by a very big, panting Bernese mountain dog appears from Linda’s street, her face partially concealed behind enormous sunglasses, expensive blond hair scraped into a high ponytail. Bianka can’t believe her luck; it’s Linda. She feels suddenly unprepared, though she’d hoped to bump into her. When Linda realizes that Bianka is sitting at the café, directly across from her, her mouth drops open in surprise and she gives a little half-hearted wave.
‘Bianka. Hi. Such a surprise. What are you doing here?’
‘Oh, I come here occasionally. The best coffee. How lovely to bump into you.’
‘What, since they opened like a month ago?’ Linda pushes her sunglasses off her face and lets them perch on her forehead. Beneath, her eyes are slightly narrowed, taking Bianka in, and Bianka thinks there’s something quite confrontational in her demeanour. Could she have gotten Linda all wrong?
‘Well, about time there was a good neighbourhood café.’
‘Except this isn’t your neighbourhood.’
‘Yes, but I’m a really big walker. I’m actually just stopping here on my way to Painshill Park. I just love walking around that lake.’
At this, Linda smiles tightly and raises an eyebrow. ‘Right, well, I’d better move along. Miso here needs a bit of a run around.’ She motions to the enormous dog, which lies panting at her feet and looks like he most certainly wouldn’t be able to run around.
‘I assume you’ve heard the awful news about Charlotte being trolled on Instagram,’ Bianka says, making sure her expression is that of horrified and concerned friend. Linda looks uncomfortable, then she slides her sunglasses back down so Bianka can no longer read her expression.
‘Indeed. Very unfortunate.’
‘I mean, who would do that?’
‘Bianka. Please.’
‘Excuse me?’ Bianka’s heart is racing but she manages to keep a mock-pleasant, steady voice.
‘I know it was you. It was obvious as soon as I saw the picture. I sat next to you at the bar, remember? From that angle, it could only have been you or me. And it obviously wasn’t me.’
‘It seems like you’ve gotten this all wrong, Linda. I believe the picture must have been taken by someone standing directly behind us.’
‘And why would they do that? It seems more likely that it was you. Let me guess. Feeling cast out in the cold since we’ve come back from Ibiza, can’t handle Charlotte distancing herself, and—’
‘Shut up.’
‘Wow.’
‘I want to know why I wasn’t invited to the barbecue at Charlotte’s, Linda.’
‘You’d have to ask her.’
‘I’m asking you, though.’
‘And I’m telling you, quite clearly, that I don’t want to get involved.’
‘Then perhaps you can tell me why in the actual hell Scandi ladies’ night was moved from Wednesday to Tuesday? It’s always on a Wednesday!’
‘Stop being ridiculous. It was because it clashed with the tennis party at Cannizaro and the email went out to everybody on the mailing list, including you, I imagine.’
‘I never got an email.’
‘So then you set about trying to destroy Charlotte’s career. Unbelievable.’
‘How dare you insinuate that it was me? You know, Linda, you’ve always seemed a little bit jealous of Charlotte.’ At this, Linda lets out an incredulous laugh and pulls on the lead so Miso slowly gets back on his feet.
‘Wow. You really are mad.’
‘I imagine it’s to do with the successful career. And the beautiful children, perhaps. But Linda, it’s a really nasty thing to do, to suggest that I might have posted that picture. I hope you don’t go around saying things like that to Charlotte.’
‘Bye, Bianka.’
Bianka has the sudden urge to throw the hot coffee straight into Linda’s face and actually has to place her hands beneath the table to make sure she doesn’t. Charlotte has clearly said something to Linda and Anette, perhaps at the barbecue, perhaps a little mention that things had gotten a little ‘intense’.
‘Oh, wait,’ says Linda. ‘One thing. Out of curiosity, what happened last Thursday night?’
Bianka feels herself grow entirely still, like every cell in her body stands to attention.
‘Thursday night?’ Rule number one, buy more time. Rule number two, never ever admit to anything, not even in the face of confrontation, or straight-up proof. Thursday night, the night. Nobody saw anything; they’d made sure. Hadn’t they?
‘After we got back from Port de Sant Miquel, I went to bed but came back downstairs for some water. And I saw you, in the hallway, coming out of the gym, carrying two kettlebells, then disappearing outside.’ Deep breaths, no reaction, just a bland little smile.
‘Oh, that.’ Bianka laughs. ‘I went down to the yoga platform and did a weights session underneath the stars. Like I said, I like working out.’
‘In the middle of the night, after five or more mojitos? Impressive.’
‘Yep.’ Bianka stands up abruptly, turns around and walks away, leaving Linda standing there, open-mouthed. Bianka knows that if she stayed another moment, the wild fury coursing through her would overpower her entirely and she would risk losing control and actually hitting Linda straight in the face.
‘Bianka!’ Linda calls out, but Bianka doesn’t turn around. ‘Painshill Park is that way, actually.’
