She frowned. “I think you might need a new one.” “Life? Relationship? Or sofa?” Vicky shot her a look. “God, you can be dramatic. I hardly think a woman chasing you and sending you flowers seven days in a row is something to be downhearted about. It’s not even like she cheated on you. She was just economical with the truth. Give her a break.” Vicky paused. “And I meant your sofa — bit saggy now, isn’t it?” “That’s why I’ve got all the cushions.” Kate picked up one from her armchair opposite and chucked it as her sister’s head. “Hey! Don’t throw missiles at the messenger.” Vicky studied her fingernails, then looked back up at Kate. “So have you decided to forgive Meg?” Kate rolled her neck. “Some days yes, other days no.” “One bunch of flowers would do me.” “Yes, but you’re not dating a florist.” “True.” Vicky shifted again. “But it wasn’t the crime of the century and you do like her — surely that’s worth considering. Are you miserable without her?”
