Meagan rocked her horse, the reins resting in her hand as she glowered at Simi.

‘Do you want me to stop putting you up for auditions?’

‘I just…’ blurted Simi.

‘Yes or no?’

‘No.’

‘Right then.’

Meagan turned to Jemima. ‘You’re right. I do expect a lot and if people let me down, they’ll hear about it. My life is excellent because I have high standards. Take it as a compliment I choose you as my friend. And FYI, what happened with… what happened with him, affected my life for a nanosecond. I’m over it. End. Of. Convo.’

Jemima nodded, looking flushed with embarrassment.

‘Now, shall we get on with this game or what?’ Meagan said dismounting her horse.

‘Yeah, sure, of course,’ Simi flustered as Jemima nodded vigorously.

Meagan surveyed the room, eyeing a mark as Simi gawped on in awe. Having spotted her target, Meagan plumped her hair, straightened her top and glided over to him. Once out of earshot Simi exhaled. When Meagan’s wrath was singeing someone else’s eyebrows it was enthralling. However, when the flames burned closer to home, it was no fun at all.

‘You got off lightly. Be careful, Jem. Don’t do a Troy,’ said Simi pulling her gaze away from Meagan.

Jemima’s face froze.

‘Remember how she was always asking about Parker,’ said Simi.

Jemima exhaled. ‘Right, sure, of course. I thought you were talking about the other thing.’

‘No, I meant, you know, poking around. I know Troy regrets it… and the thing with the jokes. She just lost her way,’ Simi said.

‘You still talk to her?’ said Jemima, sipping her cocktail.

Simi drained the last splashes of her drink. ‘She was always nice to me. I couldn’t cut her off like Meag did. And anyway, what Troy did was crappy but not a hanging offence.’

Jemima nodded. ‘I agree and you know, that does make me think…’

Simi began rocking her horse again. Jemima obviously regretted casting Troy aside.

‘You know, Jem, it’s never too late to make amends,’ she said with a reassuring smile.

As they rocked their horses, a piercing whistle cut through the bar. They both looked across to see Meagan, standing with a nervous-looking guy, beckoning Simi over.

‘I’m in!’ Simi beamed as she slid off her horse.

She dashed over to Meagan, remembering, halfway, to act casual.

Five minutes later and Simi was back, brimming with excitement. She high-fived Meagan who had teed up the introduction brilliantly without a single mention of fake legs or Olympic medals. Simi had been charming and not intense at all. She’d let him take her number rather than asking for his, because you know, it was his loss if he didn’t call. And even when she’d blurted out a cheesy, ‘See you later, alligator!’ he’d just playfully replied, ‘In a while, crocodile.’

It was a slam dunk.

‘So what’s he like?’ asked Jemima.

‘His name’s Steve. He’s agnostic, has three Best of albums and works in transport.’

‘He’s a bus driver, Sim. Don’t gas it,’ said Meagan.