Chapter 24 M&S S.O.S
M she’d gone for a slightly ruffled look — effortless-looking effort.
She applied a generous swipe of concealer around her tired eyes and a liberal spritz of her favourite perfume, hoping that Jules might appreciate the warm, woody fragrance.
Okay, shoes or no shoes? She quickly settled on her suede mules, which she reserved for around the house, but they were trendy enough to look good with the rest of her outfit. And she wasn’t really leaving the house, after all.
Once again she wriggled her hips to adjust the unfamiliar underwear which was riding up ever-so-slightly and making her way too aware of everything down there. Nothing like a pair of uncomfortable knickers to kick-start your libido.
After parting ways with Penny earlier, Catherine grabbed the first sort-of-sexy matching set of underwear she’d spotted in her size, not wanting to linger for too long and risk being ogled by the sales assistant again.
She scurried to the till downstairs and waited in line, only to be called up by a dough-faced woman whose thin eyebrows disappeared into her hairline as she scanned the lingerie.
“Do you need a bag?” She held up the offending items and may as well have announced over the tannoy that she, Catherine Truscote, was buying sex knickers.
“No, they’re for a friend,” Catherine said in a panicked yelp. Oh God! Why did I say that?
The assistant tilted her head.
“Sorry, I mean, no. Thank you. I have a bag.” She patted the tote under her arm. She paid and left the store, never to return.
And while the label sounded exotic — Brazilian Lace Trim — almost like something one might eat rather than wear, there was nothing at all sexy about pulling said lace out of one’s arse crack.
Why had she even worn new underwear anyway, for goodness’ sake?
It’s not as if anything like that was going to happen on the first date.
Or ever, if she continued being this uptight and neurotic.
One last check in the mirror. She looked good and even felt good, despite the nerves zipping around inside her.
“Don’t overthink. Try to relax,” she repeated Penny’s advice aloud and took a few controlled breaths. It’s dinner with a new friend, that’s all.
Dinner with a hot new friend.
Her hormones raged like those of a teenager. I’m fifty-six for fuck’s sake. What is this, cougar puberty?
Catherine grabbed the wine she’d bought for the occasion, nice bottles of both red and white, and she pocketed the treats she’d picked up for Juniper.
She’d missed his company over the last few days and was excited about seeing him again.
Although not as excited as she was about seeing Jules.
She’d considered buying flowers but had over-thought it until she walked away from the florist empty-handed.
Next time. She’d definitely bring flowers next time.
In the entranceway, the quiet thrum of music drifted from upstairs with the faint sound of Jules singing along to a song Catherine didn’t know. The last time she’d climbed these stairs was to build flatpack furniture and feed the cat.
She knocked. No answer, but through the door came the wail of Jules singing off-key to the outro of the song. Catherine chuckled and knocked a little louder.
“Come in,” Jules’s voice beckoned.
As Catherine entered, Juniper padded along the hallway towards her, his tail held high and swishing like a furry antenna.
“Hello, you,” she said, bending to pet him.
He responded with a little meow and nuzzled into her shins.
“Oh, he’s such a flirt.”
Catherine’s head whipped up at Jules’s voice as she peered around the kitchen doorframe, red hair piled up in a messy bun, cheeks flushed, and an apron tied around her neck.
“Something smells delicious.”
“Come on through. Sorry, I need to stir; it’s risotto! You like mushrooms, right?”
“I love mushrooms.”
“Lucky guess.” Jules shot her a smouldering smile before disappearing back into the kitchen.
“Come on, you,” Catherine said to Juni while rubbing his ear. “Let’s do this.” She drew in a deep breath and followed the mouth-watering aroma.
Half-expecting to see chaos unfolding, Catherine’s eyebrows raised at the relatively tidy space considering Jules was mid-meal-prep. Music played from a retro-looking speaker on the windowsill, and Jules bopped her hips as she stirred a wooden spoon in a large flat pan on the hob.
“Welcome to mi casa.” Jules beamed and reached over to lower the volume. “Not that you haven’t been welcomed in by Juni several times already.”
Catherine smiled and nodded to the radio. “No Spice Girls tonight, then?”
“Ha! No, just a bit of Florence and the Machine. But you’ve clearly overheard my guilty pleasure.”