A Time for Friends by Patricia Scanlan Read Free Book Online Page A

lighting was completely different from domestic, especially where fabrics were concerned, and a light as close as possible to
natural light was needed. Hopefully this was the point being made and they hadn’t missed too much of the lecture and would be able to grasp what was being taught, fairly quickly.
    All the seats at the back were taken and Hilary glanced at her companion, who grimaced and began to edge along the side. ‘There’s seats at the front, hurry along, please, we have a
lot to cover,’ the man said impatiently as everyone turned to look at them. Mortified, Hilary scuttled behind her new acquaintance who nonchalantly flicked his purple scarf over his shoulder
as he strode along ahead of her. There were four empty seats in the middle of the front row and he sat on one of them and she sat down beside him and took out a large notebook from her tote, and
then realized with a sinking heart that she had to go rooting for a pen. She scrabbled desperately in the depths of her bag as the lecturer eyed her irritably.
    ‘Err . . . em . . . my pen,’ she said weakly, catching her companion’s amused gaze.
    ‘I’ve two, take one,’ Jonathan murmured, handing her a blue biro. ‘Mary Poppins has nothing on you,’ he added
sotto voce
as he clipped some pages to a
clipboard and, pen poised, gazed expectantly at the lecturer.
    Hilary giggled, earning another irate frown from the lecturer, before she lowered her head and opened her notebook as he began to discuss new developments in lighting technology.
    ‘I’m more interested in domestic lighting, to be honest. Fitting out a store or display premises wouldn’t be my cup of tea,’ Jonathan confided as they sipped coffee and
nibbled on dry pink wafer biscuits a couple of hours later at the coffee break.
    ‘Umm, we do all types of lighting in my job, domestic and commercial. My dad has a lighting business and showrooms; I run it for him,’ Hilary told him, trying not to gobble her
biscuit. She was starving, having only had time for a half-slice of toast that Millie hadn’t eaten. The girls were having a sleepover at her sister’s and she’d had to pack
overnight bags, as well as getting them ready for school.
    ‘Really? Do you give discounts to friends?’ Jonathan enquired. ‘I have a new interior design commission. I need lights and lamps and shades and now I’m your
friend.’ He grinned at her and she laughed.
    ‘I’m sure we could do business, Mr Harpur.’
    ‘Excellent, Ms Hammond! Here’s to a long and fruitful friendship.’ He clinked his coffee cup against hers and winked. ‘Look at the Mona Lisa over there, casting sultry
glances at the guy in the brown cords. She’s wasting her time. He plays on my team.’
    ‘Gay?’ Hilary arched an eyebrow.
    ‘For sure. I should go over and flirt with him myself.’
    ‘How do you know?’ Hilary asked. ‘He looks . . . er . . . em . . .’ She was going to say butch but stopped in case she implied that Jonathan wasn’t. The minute
she’d seen Jonathan’s shoes, and the scarf draped artistically around his neck, she’d known that he was gay.
    ‘You
always
know who plays on your team,’ Jonathan assured her confidently. ‘He’s been eyeing me up all morning so Mona Lisa is barking up the wrong tree
there,’ Jonathan smirked.
    Hilary laughed. Mona Lisa was a spot-on description of the slightly round-faced, dark-haired girl with the protruding eyes, who had introduced herself as Jacintha and informed them, as Jonathan
politely handed her a cup of coffee, that she was an architect with a ‘cutting edge’ firm in Merrion Square. She believed in using the medium of architecture in a
‘sculptural’ way, she informed Hilary and Jonathan, who listened politely, as she earnestly declared that a lighting design course would add to the services she could offer to clients.
She had looked down her superior little nose when Jonathan told her that he worked in the Civil Service. ‘So you