Someone Like You by Cathy Kelly Page A

replied.
    ‘Do you mind me joining you?’ Emma asked.
    ‘Thrilled,’ Leonie said.
    ‘Right.’ Hannah decided she needed to do something to liven things up. ‘We all need a drink. What do you want, girls?’
    ‘I’ve loads of mineral water left,’ Emma said, holding up her glass.
    ‘Nonsense,’ Hannah said briskly. ‘You need a proper drink.’
    The other woman’s expression faltered. ‘I shouldn’t, really. My father, you know …’ she hesitated, catching herself just in time. Imagine telling these two women that she wasn’t going to have a drink because her father disapproved of women drinking more than a sherry and she couldn’t face his disapproval. They’d think she was a compete nutcase. ‘My father says the beer here is supposed to be very strong.’
    ‘A glass of wine won’t kill you.’
    Something fell to the floor and Hannah picked it up. It was a small bottle of Dr Bach’s Rescue Remedy, the herbal antidote to stress. You took four drops on your tongue to calm your nerves, she knew, having consumed enough of it when she was recovering from Harry’s round-the-world bombshell.
    Emma gave her a wry look. ‘Travelling makes me stressed,’ she said bluntly. She left out the words ‘travelling with my father
    Hannah handed the bottle back. ‘Well, you definitely need one drink then.’
    Leonie pronounced her white wine unusual but drinkable, so that was that. The barman brought three glasses of white wine.
    Emma, who seemed to be relaxing with every moment, took an enormous sip of her drink. She gasped and gave a happy little shudder. ‘I needed that. So,’ she said, ‘I presume you two are friends.’
    ‘No,’ Leonie said, ‘we met on the plane. I’m terrified of flying and Hannah swapped seats with me. But as we’re travelling on our own, we sort of linked up.’
    ‘I’m here with my parents,’ Emma explained, then felt herself redden because she knew damn well the other two knew that.
    Everyone who’d been on the plane had known it: you couldn’t miss her father. Now they’d really think she was some sort of weirdo who was tied to her parents. ‘My husband had to go to a conference and couldn’t come with us,’ she added. Nervousness made her tactless: ‘Do your partners not like cultural trips either?’
    Hannah grinned. ‘I’m not seeing anyone right now and my last lover’ - her full lips curved into a smile at the thought of Jeff- ‘well, I don’t know if he’d have been into a trip to Egypt.’
    ‘My husband and I are divorced,’ blurted out Leonie.
    ‘We meant to come to Egypt on our honeymoon, but we were too broke at the time. I figured that if I waited until I was married again to come here, I’d be waiting a long time.’ She slumped in her seat, feeling miserable. It must be jet lag or something.
    ‘Don’t be so defeatist,’ Hannah said kindly. ‘If you want something, you’ll get it. If you want a man, go out and get one.’
     
    Leonie stared at her in astonishment. Most of her friends - well, Anita and the female members of the gang, really - changed the subject brusquely if she mentioned her single status. They muttered that men weren’t everything and, God, sure didn’t they nearly murder Tony/Bill/whoever every five minutes for leaving the loo seat up or for never washing up so much as a spoon. ‘Wouldn’t you be as well off on your own,’ they chorused with fake cheeriness.
    ‘Nobody to act hopeless around the washing machine. And you have the kids, after all …’
    But Hannah had no such compunction. ‘We’ll help you find a nice single bloke on the cruise,’ Hannah said. ‘There’s bound to be someone on the boat who’s longing for the love of a good woman.’
    ‘It’s not that easy,’ Leonie protested.
    ‘I’m not saying it is, but you can do it if you want to.
    It just takes a different approach these days. You’ve so much going for you, Leonie, you’d get a man no bother if you really put your mind to it.’ She