When Good Friends Go Bad by Ellie Campbell Read Free Book Online

you going to marry me?' he'd ask with a grin, as he brought her a mug of tea in bed or wrestled with her in the sheets. And Jen would gaze at the ceiling, finger on chin, pretending to rack her brains. 'Well gee, I don't know. When you've reached puberty, perhaps?'
    When he'd first started this nonsense, she'd been clutched with panic. One of many reasons why she rarely allowed her relationships to last more than a few weeks. Ollie was teasing, she reassured herself. He was using her the way she was using him. And what hot-blooded female could boot something so gorgeous and athletically talented out of bed? One day he'd come to his senses. Or she'd come to hers. Until then, the sex was phenomenal, better than she could ever have imagined, and for the first time since Starkey she was actually enjoying herself.
    It had barely been four months. Granted, that was a record for her, but surely not reason enough to run, not yet anyway.
    'It's hard to envision you with anyone except Starkey, somehow.' Meg trailed her hand idly down the banister, the question plain in her voice. 'The way you two were like soulmates or something, I thought for sure you'd be chained together for life.' Her kohl-painted eyes felt too penetrating. 'Do you ever hear from him?'
    'Starkey who?' Strange how his name could still feel like a punch. Jen squinched up her brow comically. 'Oh, that old toerag.' She yawned. 'Classic amnesia case, Dr Lennox. Forgot my phone number, forgot my existence and unless he has positive proof of it being down to alien abduction, he's the last person in the world I'd want to see or hear about again. And who gives a shit? Men are bastards, anyway.'
    'Like that, eh? Well, his loss, honey, not yours.' Meg linked her arm through Jen's. 'And exactly how non-serious is this new guy?'
    Jen hesitated, but decided she couldn't resist. 'Blimey, I don't know.' She cast her eyes to the ceiling. 'Five or six times a week. Two or three times a night.'
    'You lucky, lucky dog.' Meg tugged her towards the red curtain across the entrance to the lounge bar. 'Let's drink to that, shall we? I want to hear all about this stud, every tiny detail.'
    'Oh believe me, it's not tiny,' Jen quipped suggestively. She was starting to feel her reserve thawing under Meg's happy-go-lucky nature. 'But I'm having a bit of a flatmate problem. I keep expecting to walk in the kitchen and find the poor sod gutted from sternum to groin while she wipes the bloody blade with a tea towel. Too bad, because he's wonderful really.'
    'What?' Meg smirked. 'The thrice-nightly screams of pleasure keeping her awake?'
    'Something like that.' Jen didn't want to get into Helen's prejudices. 'Shouldn't we wait at reception? For the others?' She dithered at the threshold to the bar.
    'Hey, we're all staying here, aren't we?' Meg towed her through the velvet barrier. 'They won't need bloodhounds to track us down. And how can we miss Georgie with that big lardass.'
    'She wasn't that fat!' Jen leapt to her old friend's defence.
    'Sez you. Why did they always make her goalie in hockey? No one could get past that porkie pie.' She hooted suddenly, her wicked smile exactly like the old Meg's. 'I'm joking, you know I love her to bits.' She threw herself on a bar stool, clicking her fingers to attract the barman's attention. 'Jim Beam and ginger ale. What you having?'
    'White wine please.' Jen sat next to her. 'I haven't seen Georgina since I left Ashport. How about you?'
    'Nope. But I heard she's some kinda designer. I ran into Babs Pitstop at Waterloo – remember her?' Jen nodded vaguely as Meg popped a peanut in her mouth. 'I guess they hook up occasionally. I asked about you and Rowan but she said she hadn't seen either of you since fifth year. I thought I was tripping when I got Rowan's note. Did you talk to her?'
    'Briefly. She still has that soft sing-song voice, I kept asking her to stop whispering and speak up. She was in the phone box of a café, said she'd got a mountain of things