The Dating Pact

Chapter One

London

March

The bar was so tightly packed that it seemed to Ellie as if the crowd was giving birth to her friend. First, Hannah squeezed her head between a tiny gap in a sea of shoulders, and then she had to rotate her body and twist her shoulders to break through.

‘It’s closed!’ gasped Hannah, as she managed to grab the bar with one hand and pull herself to Ellie’s side with a grunt.

‘What?’ mumbled Ellie, so distracted by the disturbing image that she had to shake her head to clear it.

‘The roof terrace – it’s closed. All of it. There’s a sign saying it’s reserved for a private party; they’ve got bouncers and everything.’

Ellie’s heart sank. The terrace was the only reason for them coming here in the first place.

‘That explains why it’s so rammed in here.

’ She glared pointedly at the sharp suit who’d elbowed her twice since he’d shoved his way to the front of the bar five minutes ago.

If that hadn’t been enough for her to loathe him, he was also waving a twenty-pound note at the staff every time they passed, apparently oblivious to the fact that they were still serving another customer.

The barman looked over at them. ‘Who’s next?’

Ellie gave him a bright smile, conscious that the staff might appreciate a friendly face after being run ragged. He shifted towards her and she leaned over the bar, so that he could hear her over the thumping house music.

A twenty-pound note flapped in front of her nose before she had time to open her mouth. ‘Double Grey Goose, on the rocks, and make sure it’s Grey Goose. I don’t want any of that communist shit,’ said the suit, an LA twang to his accent.

‘Sorry,’ Ellie said. Not sorry at all. ‘I was next.’

‘I don’t think so. I’ve been here for at least twenty minutes.’ He gave her a quick up-and-down appraisal that was so filled with disdain, it made her jaw clench. She was used to sneering looks; it came hand in hand with being plus size.

Returning the favour, she gave him the same scornful appraisal.

Middle-aged with greased jet-black hair that had obviously come from a bottle.

His expensive suit fitted perfectly on his thin frame.

Beneath the spray tan, his complexion was sallow, like she’d seen in her alcoholic patients.

He was the type to tell her to consider her health, while he trotted around with cirrhosis of the liver.

Ellie lowered his note with a firm press of her index finger.

She usually dealt with rudeness with the forbearance of a saint, but tonight was Hannah’s last night in London.

Tomorrow her best friend since primary school would leave her to go and live in Australia for a year.

This man wasn’t going to push in front of her and get away with it.

Not today, Satan!

‘I was next.’ She stared him down with her best Nurse Ellie takes no prisoners glare.

He looked away first. Wimp.

Turning back to the confused barman, she flashed her pearly whites. No way was she going to let some fatphobic snake ruin her night. ‘Two raspberry gin fizzes, please.’

There was an exasperated huff beside her, but she deliberately ignored the slimy suit.

After their drinks were made and paid for, she handed one of the massive candyfloss goblets to Hannah and sashayed away with a toss of her freshly blow-dried hair. Leaving the bar area was significantly easier than arriving.

However, her victory was short-lived, as there was nowhere to sit and barely anywhere to stand.

The growing throng of customers grew more and more intense, packed into the small cocktail bar like sardines.

Hannah, who was tiny, kept being knocked by a lady’s designer tote that probably cost more than their monthly nursing salaries combined.

‘It’s not normally this busy, is it?’ asked Hannah, dodging another swing of the luxury bag.

‘No. But I guess with the terrace closed…’ They both looked longingly at the closed doors, which were black-lacquered and inlaid with mother-of-pearl to fit with the Asian fusion theme of the restaurant.

Chopsticks was a swanky high-rise restaurant, with a tiny cocktail bar serving overpriced drinks, and terrible music.

But the roof terrace by contrast was a lush, calming oasis with comfy seating and stunning views of the city.

Ellie twizzled her cocktail stirrer, her heart and hopes for the evening plummeting with each beat of the woman’s tote against Hannah’s head. ‘I’m sorry.’

Hannah gave her arm a light squeeze. ‘Don’t be. It’s still lovely to have one last cocktail with you before I go.’

‘When’s your dad picking us up? We could try somewhere else, the Gun maybe?’ she asked, knowing she was clutching at straws and trying to halt the inevitable.

Soon, Hannah would be gone, and Ellie would be left behind. Nothing but the hospital and helping her family with their flower shop to fill her days. She really needed to get a life – except, she couldn’t afford one.

Hannah checked her watch. ‘Thirty-five minutes?’ Her dad had been a black cab driver for over thirty years, and he was never late.

Ellie did a quick calculation in her head. By the time they’d queued up for the super-fast lift to the ground level, walked to the nearest bar and ordered drinks… Well, they’d only have five minutes left together at best. ‘I can’t persuade you to stay out a bit longer?’

Hannah shook her head sadly. ‘Six a.m. flight. Pretty much have to leave as soon as I get in.’

Ellie sighed. ‘We shouldn’t have stopped for dessert.’

‘And miss the best ice cream sundae in London? No way.’

‘But this place is rubbish without the terrace.’ Ellie shuffled out of the way of a waitress who was carrying a platter of steaming noodles through the crowd. This really was the worst end to an otherwise perfect farewell.

‘Stupid private party,’ she grumbled, as she mentally tortured herself by remembering the terrace only a few steps away.

With acres of squishy seats and low tables, the terrace’s roof garden was not only beautifully landscaped with magnificent views, but it also had a huge cherry blossom tree planted in its centre.

How the hell they’d hauled a massive tree up here in the first place was beyond her, but they’d somehow managed it.

At night the tree was lit up with hundreds of fairy lights, and she could just make out the twinkling glow of it beyond the steamy windows.

Hannah’s voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘Don’t be disappointed, you’ve given me the best send-off imaginable. We’ve done the best tea room, the best dim sum, the best ice cream. It’s been the perfect day. After all that food and walking, I’m going to sleep like a baby through the whole flight.’

She was still leaving. Ellie had planned this day half hoping that showing off everything that London had to offer might make Hannah change her mind at the last minute. A futile hope.

‘You’re going to sleep the whole twenty-five-hour flight?’

‘With two stops,’ Hannah reminded her with a twinkle in her eyes.

‘With two stops…’ Ellie chuckled. Resigned to her fate, she stomped down her disappointment and forced herself to be enthusiastic for her friend. ‘You’re going to have the most amazing time, babe.’

Hannah’s own smile faltered for a moment as tears gathered in her eyes. ‘I wish you were coming with me.’

Ellie longed to shout, Please, don’t go!

But she knew that confessing her misery would only make Hannah feel worse, and she knew that her friend already felt terrible.

Hannah’s decision to go travelling had meant Ellie had had to move back in with her family temporarily.

And it would be temporary, she reminded herself.

Instead, she gave a dramatic gasp, and pretended to clutch her pearls. ‘Australia! With all those spiders and creepy-crawlies? No thanks.’

‘Well… maybe you could come and visit me. Have a little holiday?’ Hannah asked hopefully, tucking a long strand of mousy-blonde hair behind her ear.

Always so unsure of herself, Hannah’s travelling plans were a strange role reversal between them.

They had been best friends since Ellie had grabbed shy little Hannah’s frightened hand on the first day of school.

Now, she who always followed loud, bolshie, risk-taking Ellie with good grace, was taking the bravest step she’d ever made – alone.

‘If I don’t do it now, I’m afraid I’ll never do it.’

How could Ellie argue with that?

She would have been proud of her, if Hannah wasn’t leaving her behind and taking half of their flat deposit with her. There was no way Ellie could afford a ‘little’ holiday to the other side of the world, but she wouldn’t tell Hannah that. ‘Maybe… It might be easier to save at my mum’s.’

Hannah’s eyes lit up. ‘Please, I’d love to see you, and I’m so sorry I ruined everything for you. You had your heart set on that flat—’

‘It’s not your fault,’ Ellie said. Although it kind of was. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. Hannah would be leaving tomorrow, and twenty-five years of friendship was worth more than her personal disappointment.

Hannah beamed at her. ‘You can stay with me and get a cheap flight. It won’t cost much.’

Ellie nodded, almost believing it might be possible, until she remembered she’d already had to pay her mum’s phone bill this month.

God, it was all so depressing! She was sick of being skint, of doors being constantly closed in her face, of people – like that suit – looking down on her, just because she dared to stand up for herself and exist in a bigger body.

Another waitress with a black jacket and chopsticks in her hair struggled through the crowd with a full platter. Ellie and Hannah leapt into each other’s arms to avoid being smacked in the head.

‘Right, I’ve had enough of this. Knock back your drink.

’ Ellie downed the last of her pink fizz and placed it on a nearby table.

Then she tied up her hair in a makeshift bun, mimicking the waitress’s hairstyle.

Needs must. She grabbed the stirrer from her cocktail and then Hannah’s and grinned at her friend’s confused face as she stuck both stirrers in her hair. ‘Can I borrow your jacket?’

‘Sure…’

Hannah was at least five sizes smaller, but after some wiggling she managed to squeeze into it.

It didn’t matter that it wouldn’t do up, or cover her breasts, she just needed to look the part.

She dug in her handbag for her work name tag and stuck it on the lapel, then handed her bag to her friend.

‘Hold these and follow me. Act like you know what I’m doing. ’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Getting us onto that bloody roof terrace.’ Ellie strode forward, grabbing discarded menus from a nearby table as she passed.

If her best friend was going to leave her, she’d at least give her the perfect memory of her last night here – perhaps it would bring her back sooner?

Fuelled by pink fizz confidence, they wound through the crowd with surprising efficiency, Ellie holding up the menus and barking, ‘Excuse me,’ until they were in front of the pearly gates, guarded not by angels but two stocky guys with designer stubble.

‘I’ve got a late arrival,’ she said with an air of authority she didn’t feel, and was secretly pleased when he didn’t look too closely at her NHS name badge, and instead was distracted by her cleavage.

Thank you, favourite corset dress!

He opened the door for them and they walked straight into heaven.