Walking up the sweeping curve of the marble stairway, Jasmine felt unsteady on her feet. She told her friend she was beginning to get a headache.
‘Never mind, there’s plenty of time. You’re probably a bit dehydrated.’ Barbara poured a glass of iced water from a glass on a side table and handed it to Jasmine who drank it greedily and immediately felt better.
‘Now, let’s get to the bottom of why you don’t want a boyfriend or even a bit of a pash. Come on, Jazz, spill the beans. There’s already somebody, isn’t there?’ She flung herself dramatically onto the bed, propped herself up against the piled-up pillows and fixed her eyes on Jasmine.
The champagne had loosened Jasmine’s tongue. It would be a relief to tell Barbara everything. ‘Yes, there is. Well, there was. But he’s gone.’ She hesit
