‘That’s so kind of you, Simi, but the book is dead. I’ve decided to withdraw it and go to LA. No Miles, just me. I’ll be packed and ready to go in a fortnight.’

‘No, Jem, you can’t!’

‘I can and I am,’ said Jemima, ‘Now, let me take that bag for you, madam.’

‘Wait,’ said Simi taking her holdall back. ‘What about Chance?’

Jemima stopped. Simi knew, the truth was long overdue.

‘There’s nothing going on with me and him. On that date, he talked about you all night. He’s in love with you and, unless I’m going mad, you’re in love with him too, right?’

Jemima went to speak but nothing came out.

‘Right?’ said Simi.

‘It doesn’t matter. Even if, and it’s a big if, there were something between us, Meagan hates me and that’s more important than falling in love with some guy,’ said Jemima heading towards the car park.

Simi’s mind whirred. So, it wasn’t Chance, as she’d previously thought, who could persuade Jemima to stay. It was Meagan. Without the love of her best friend, Jemima was convinced there was nothing to stay for.

‘Wait. Let’s talk to Meagan. I mean, reeeeally talk and if she still wants to shut the book down and can’t see a way back, then you can go to LA with my blessing – as long as there’s a couch for me when I visit.’

Jemima looked around the airport as though she might sprint off there and then. Simi edged towards her. ‘Stop running, Jem. Face this.’

After a long silence, Jemima sighed. ‘Fine but if she murders me, I’m going to kill you.’

‘Yes!’ said Simi, punching the air. ‘Not the killing me bit but yay to everything else.’

Jemima hunched her shoulders, adjusting her grip on Simi’s bag. ‘Come on. The taxi’s waiting.’

‘Home, James!’ Simi trilled following her.

As they walked, she heard someone clear their throat, loud and close behind them.

‘Oh, hello… Brutus,’ came the voice, stopping them both in their tracks.

Chapter 49

Meagan

Meagan stood glaring as anger coursed through her veins. Even her idea of meeting Simi at the airport had been stolen by Jemima. The woman was shameless. Clearly she’d realised, of the two of them, Simi was the soft touch and had started working her to save her libellous blood-money book. Well, she would not be such a pushover, Meagan sneered, as Simi and Jemima span around in shock.

‘Meagan!’ Simi exclaimed. ‘What are you—’

‘I came to welcome my favourite kitchen maid home. Didn’t realise she’d become a turncoat,’ Meagan snarled shoving her name board in her bag.

Simi looked her up and down.

‘Wait. Why are you so small?’ she said as her eyes fell to Meagan’s feet. ‘You’re in flats! And a T-shirt!’

‘A lot’s changed, bitches,’ she retorted. ‘So, Jem, trying to save your little book?’

Not that she had to ask. It was obvious. Why else would she haul her ass to Gatwick on a Sunday morning? Well she was too late. All Meagan had to do was hit the kill switch and her lawyers would incinerate her. She laughed to herself at how, just that morning, she’d questioned if legal action was a step too far. However, seeing Jemima pull this weaselly manoeuvre made Meagan even more determined to bury her.