'You look nice' Bernie observed.

Fleur preened herself in her hand mirror.

'Meeting a schoolmate of mine.'

'Oh yes?'

'Serena McKinnie. Haven't seen her in 30 odd years. Became a vascular surgeon, very distinguished. Married someone in the medical field, unfortunate spawning occurred. Divorced his philandering arse thank goodness. Leaving the way for me.'

Bernie snorted with laughter.

'You can't possibly think she'd be interested in you just because she got divorced?'

'Why not? Worked with you.' Fleur winked. Bernie blushed. She was never going to live down last year's Christmas party snog.

'It didn't and we were drunk.'

'If you say so.'

Bernie sighed. Fleur was incorrigible. She had a knack for rapidly picking up on people's life stories and kindly exploiting them. Bernie was also divorced with kids but she had no wish to see any of her old schoolmates. She was a disgrace as far as her ex-husband and his family were concerned.

Fleur looked at the time.

'Don't scare her off too soon.'

'Ha! Head girl at St Winnifred's. Highly fanciable. Not easily scared off if I recall correctly.'

Fleur had an excellent memory.

'Didn't you have a crush on the head girl or the sports captain at school?'

Bernie hadn't.

'If you'd seen the girls in my school…well, I don't think even you would have fancied them.'

'Hmmmm.'

Fleur found something fanciable about most women.

'You'd struggle, believe me.'

'I bet I'd find at least one.'

'Fleur Fanshawe. You haven't changed a bit.'

They looked round to see a vision in a designer outfit. Bernie was struck by that honeyed voice. She liked the look of St Winnie's former head girl very much.

'Dr McKinnie! You look fabulous.'

'That's a formality I haven't heard in eons. Although I do sign up to porn sites with that name.'

Bernie's honk of laughter drowned out their cackles and they both looked at her in delight.

'Sorry.'

'Bernie, this is Serena, Serena, this is Bernie Wolfe, colleague of mine.'

They shook hands. Bernie liked Serena's subversive humour and sparkling eyes but this was Fleur's time. She hastily said hello and goodbye and fled to the other side of the room to scroll through her phone. She hadn't realised how easy it was to hear from there.

'You work with her?'

'My co-lead. Divorced. Good kisser.'

'As am I. What a fabulous laugh.'

'I was rather hoping you'd be interested in talking to me, Ms Campbell' Fleur pouted.

'I'm talking to you aren't I? Introduce me to her later. Tell me what you've been up to. And don't act coy with me. I know what you're after.'

Bernie wondered if middle aged women were more lesbian inclined than she'd originally thought. Who knew that there were so many hidden in plain view? She got up and left and tried to push the thought from her mind with limited success.

Fleur and Serena talked for a few hours, reminiscing and catching up. At the end of it, Fleur heaved a despondent sigh knowing that they wouldn't be re-enacting the illicit snog they had all those years ago at midnight, defying curfew with smuggled cider with the hockey team.

Bernie reappeared when numbers were exchanged. She saw Serena tuck a note into her bra (oh dear, Bernie was in trouble, there was a flash of lace) and graciously started to leave once Fleur had stopped pawing at her. She turned around and saw Bernie standing there watching them. She winked at her and strode out to the sound of Fleur's bawdy laughter. Bernie knew she was blushing.

Bernie berated herself for acting like a teen crush. Fleur clapped an arm around her shoulders and led her to their office.

'She liked you' she remarked.

'She barely met me.'

'She wanted to know about you and you'll be hearing from her.'

'What do you mean?'

'Do you think that was my number she tucked away? She's already got mine. I gave her yours, you silly goose.'

Oh help.