'I'm so sorry. I've completely run out of bread,' said Elsa when Laurence re-emerged in his rather crumpled dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up. He didn't look quite as debonair as last night but he looked just right to her. 'I usually have a loaf in the freezer I just peel bits off when I need some, but that crust was the last bit.'

‘Well, it's just not good enough!’

Elsa laughed, as much with surprise as anything else. Laurence was always so polite. A night of passion had obviously had its effect on him, too. 'I know, let's go out for breakfast!'

‘Do you know somewhere?’

She nodded. 'A lovely pub that does fantastic bacon rolls. It's a little way away but their coffee is really good too! We could buy the Sunday papers.' She paused. 'Or do you want to get home?' she asked, trying not to sound too anxious. She didn't want him to go – not for a few hours at least. She wanted to know all about him, his favourite music, food, what he read – everything.

‘No, bacon rolls and Sunday papers sound good.’

Boldly, for her anyway, she teased him: 'You don't want me to drive your car so you can take Jamie's back to his house, then?’

The way he looked at her, with creased eyes and one side of his mouth lifted in a smile, made her stomach clench. 'Jamie can organise his own car. I've done more than enough for him already.’

She nodded. 'Right. I'll go and get some clothes on.’

‘Not too many.’

She turned back to look at him, her head on one side in query.

‘I mean, it's a lovely day and it's going to be hot.’

She laughed. 'OK, but as it is a lovely day, can we have the top off the car?'

‘Of course. I'll meet you down there.’

Oh, the joy, thought Elsa as she hauled a skirt out of her wardrobe. It was rather pretty fabric. She'd made it with a remnant left over from something else. Sadly, there hadn't been much material and it was rather short so she'd never actually worn it before. Suddenly being too short seemed just right. She decided against rubbing on some fake tan. Streaky, while a good look for bacon, didn't work so well on legs.

She should have known that sports cars and short skirts were a bad combination. She'd been in his car often enough, but it was something of a shock to realise showing her knickers was almost inevitable. Still, nothing to be done about it. He'd seen them before, after all. She clambered in and shut the door.

‘Right, well, it's in Bromley, just a couple of miles away. Left at the crossroads.' Having delivered her directions, Elsa spent most of the journey tugging subtly at her skirt.

She hadn't managed to tuck it under her when she got in and now it was rumpled up, exposing more than just thigh. She didn't want Laurence to think she was leading him to something he couldn't have. Then she thought of the loo in the pub. They were almost bound to have a condom machine. She blushed with guilty pleasure. Chaste for years, she'd suddenly become a sex fiend! It was lovely.

They were sitting in a sunny bay window, trying to do the crossword, sipping coffee and waiting for their rolls when Laurence's phone rang. Elsa ignored it. She wanted to solve just one clue to prove she wasn't illiterate and was working on an anagram.

‘It's for you,' he said, and handed it to her.

There was something very panic-inducing about receiving a call on someone else's phone; it could only be an emergency.

‘Elsa?' It was Sarah and she did sound pretty worried. 'Thank goodness! I've been trying to track you down for ages! Your phone is off, or out of battery or something. I tried you several times and then I was forced to ring Bron. She told me you were at your ball last night and when I still couldn't reach you, I got Laurence's number from Vanessa.’

Her phone, Elsa realised, was still in her historically correct reticule where it must have quietly died. 'So what's so urgent?'

‘Carrie! She's on her way to yours.'

‘On a Sunday?'

‘Sorry, she's off again tomorrow. She's going to decide which dress. I think Mandy must have made her. We're meeting up at yours at about eleven. Is that OK?’

No, it wasn't OK. Her studio flat was probably full of traces of what had gone on in it the night before. Laurence looked at her quizzingly. She shrugged.

‘Elsa?' Sarah squawked.

‘Oh God. Yes, it's fine. We'll be there as soon as we can.' She disconnected and looked up at Laurence.

‘No time for breakfast?' he said, with that lethal eyebrow / smile combination.

‘Yup,' she agreed, but as she spoke the barman announced from the bar that their breakfast had arrived. 'Carrie and everyone are on their way to mine. It means she's at last made up her mind about which design she wants, but..

‘You don't want everyone to know what we got up to last night?'

‘I would rather not. I don't want to seem prissy but it would be a bit embarrassing.'

‘We'll take the rolls with us and eat on the way,' said Laurence.

She was at the bar, paying and wrapping baps in napkins before Laurence had a chance to tell her he didn't allow people to eat in his car. She didn't absolutely know this was a golden rule of his, but if it was, she hoped that hunger would soften his attitude.

‘Tell me when you want a bite of roll,' she said, halfway through hers. 'I didn't realise how hungry I was until I started eating.'

‘Well, supper last night was a long time ago. And a lot has happened since.'

‘Mm,' she agreed with her mouth full. 'And apart from having to have a tidy-up to make sure there's nothing incriminating lying around, I'm really pleased to be able to start on that dress at last. She's a lovely girl but she's a nightmare client. She keeps changing her mind about things. Well, once I've started on the dress, she can't change her mind again! I'll have to tell her.' She paused. 'You couldn't go just a bit faster, could you?’

Laurence glanced at her, and suddenly, she wished she hadn't said that as the tail of the car went down and they roared forward.

Sarah, Bron, Hugo and a man Elsa didn't know, but thought she recognised from somewhere, were all waiting outside her door as they drove up.

As she clambered out on to the pavement, Elsa heard Bron say, 'Not wearing the black trousers this morning then?’

Elsa made a face and found her keys. 'I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. We'd just gone out for breakfast. We ate it on the way here.'

‘It's fine,' said Sarah. 'You're back before Carrie is, which is all that matters. Do charge your phone though.’

As she led the way up the stairs to her flat and workshop Elsa said, 'Sorry, I knew my battery was a bit low when I went out last night, but then forgot to charge it when I got home.'

‘Probably distracted by other things,' muttered Bron.

When the whole group landed in her workroom the sofabed, still in bed form, seemed to scream for attention. Elsa shot Laurence a look and scooped up the duvet. Laurence started turning it back into a sofa. He was biting his lip, trying to keep his amusement to himself.

Sarah, the soul of tact, caused a diversion. 'Does everyone know each other? Elsa, you don't know James, do you?’

Elsa smiled at him, clutching pillows. 'Weren't you at Ashlyn's wedding? You do seem vaguely familiar.'

‘Yes I was. I remember you. You were the bridesmaid.’

‘And I was the best man,' said Laurence.

Bron caught Elsa's eye, raised her eyebrows and nodded her head in Laurence's direction. Elsa knew her blush would tell Bron everything she wanted to know.

‘Hugo?' said Sarah, possibly to take the heat off Elsa. 'Do you and Laurence know each other? Hugo's a photographer. Carrie wants some candid shots of her choosing dresses and things.'

‘Of course we know each other,' said Hugo casually. 'Hi, Laurence. How's it going?'

‘It's been a bit hectic,' he said. 'I took Elsa to a ball last night and ended up taking some bloke to A and E with a badly injured hand.'