‘I wonder if he’ll go,’ Jessica mused. Sharon knew she was talking about Scott. There was no need for names. ‘I doubt it,’ she replied bluntly. ‘He’s suing us – he’ll feel that he isn’t welcome.’ ‘Maybe we should ring him, let him know we’d like him to come,’ Jessica suggested, sitting on the desk. ‘Let him know you’d like him to come, not we,’ Sharon corrected her, haughty as she flicked back her peroxide fringe from her eyes. ‘Come on – let’s phone him now,’ Jessica urged. ‘You have his number.’ ‘I’m not phoning anyone.’ ‘Oh come on, Sharon! You’re the extrovert – he won’t think anything of you phoning him. He’d think it was weird if it was me.’ Sharon relented and looked up the number. ‘Anything for a peaceful life.’ She dialled the digits and the phone on the other end rang six or seven times before it was picked up. ‘Scott!’ Sharon gave Jessica the thumbs-up. ‘Hi, it’s Sharon – and Jessica … yeah, we’re good … how are you?’ Sharon listened for a few moments before saying, ‘Did you get your invitation to the party?
