The town house was cool and quiet when Andy picked up her sapphire covered I phone, a present from Miranda, strictly for non-business purposes, moved through to the kitchen and dialled her parents' home number. The girls were up in their rooms catching up with homework and listening to music before going to bed, and Miranda was curled up with the Book in her study.

It was late Saturday evening and so her Mom and Dad should be somewhere around their property, unless her Mom was out on an emergency call from the Children's Department. Her sisters and brothers had all grown and left home, mostly married and having provided Andrea with a rumbustious assortment of nieces and nephews. Andrea had been the youngest of five, and by virtual of her position in the family, her looks, brains and general charm, was her daddy's darling, and her mother's delight.

A weekly phone call to them had always been the norm through College, but these days she tended to email, or text. There had been so much going on, the break up with Nate, the last six weeks' tumultuous change in her circumstances with Miranda, and her changed perceptions of who she was and what she wanted from life. All of it had made a direct, sensible conversation almost impossible over the phone.

This call was never going to be easy, and she knew she herself had caused the main problem. Her early months at Runway had been a nightmare, and she had vented her frustrations and fury quite often, and especially extravagantly to her mother. Her father, she knew, had been both alarmed and indignant at the way she was treated by "That woman!" The episode of the flight cancellation from Florida had been a catalyst confirming his most negative suspicions about who he considered his daughter's sadistic boss, and he had watched it play out in real time on his only visit to Andy back in the early spring.

Miranda had behaved appallingly then, it was true. It was the only time she had ever made Andy cry, and only Nigel's brisk pep-talk had given the girl back some spirit. But looking back at it now, it could have been a funny scene in a movie, and Andy had started teasing Miranda about it, as she now knew she could. Thunderstorms did always seem to make Miranda go crazy, as their first, (and only) major row and magic reconciliation could testify. But Andy's Dad had only seen the first manifestation of weather related meltdown, and thought the ruin of his evening with Andy more than enough to form an accurate opinion of the Runway Editor.

He had flown home after advising Andrea to find another job immediately, and of course told her mom just how cruel and unreasonable Miranda Priestly was. Since then, if ever Andrea had said anything positive about her, it had fallen on deaf ears, so she had ended up avoiding any mention of Miranda, and what had actually developed between them. This would take some telling.

She half hoped they were out and she'd get the answering machine, or even a busy signal, but the phone stopped ringing on the third burr and her mother came on the line.

"Hi Mom,"

"At last! Darling where have you been? We've been so worried, and I don't recognise this number. Have you changed your phone?"

"I've still got the old one, but I use it mainly for work. This is a new I phone."

"So, how have you been? We haven't heard from you in person since you said it was all off between you and Nate."

"Yes, sorry. Nate and I just, you know, drifted apart. He's now in Boston. He landed a job as a sous-chef in a fancy restaurant up there. But don't worry. It's fine. We're cool."

"I met his mother in Costco last week, and she seemed upset. We were all rather expecting wedding bells this year."

"Well that was never going to happen, Mom, so don't go there." Andrea fell back on the word she had used to describe things to Miranda. "We found we just weren't compatible."

"So who are you dating now? Long silences from your end usually mean either you're in love with someone unsuitable and don't want us to know, or worse, you've realised they are unsuitable and are in depression."

Andrea sighed. Her mother knew her history of crazy crushes too well. Looking back, she realised that it had been the women in her life who had caused most heartbreak, not the men and the boys who had usually simply bored her.

"Neither's the case here, Mom. But I am in love, with a wonderful person, very suitable. I want you to know before anyone else does. "

"Oh my God, when you say "Person", I can feel what's coming. You've got a new girlfriend haven't you?"

"Well, she's a woman. I'm her girlfriend. She's just a bit older."

"How old?"

Andy took a deep breath.

"Not so old, ten years younger than you, nearly. Not quite . . . 49."

"Oh, Andy, for heaven's sake. One of those butch lesbians on your soft-ball team? But they won't be that old. Single?"

"No, she's divorced."

"So she's been married. How many times?"

"Twice."

"With children I suppose."

"Yes. Two."

Andy could feel her mother take a deep breath and mentally step back so she could give her daughter some space to explain why this most unsuitable sounding partner had captured her far too tender heart.

Jenny Sachs was nothing if not open-minded. Andy inherited her sense of fair-play and justice, and her willingness to accept diversity within her family's affections. She had seen her youngest was gay from an early age, and believed all parents knew if their children were gay, even if they refused to acknowledge it.

Andy had rarely fully opened up to her, except when in dire straits over a teacher or coach or some older woman who had attracted her only to chew her up and leave her full of self-hate and self-doubt. Then she had gently directed her back into more mainstream relationships which had less capacity for misery, and hoped for the best.

The ending of the love affair with Nate she could now see was inevitable, and probably marked the end of Andy's attempts at heterosexual happiness. The cycle of falling in love, being badly hurt, and suffering at the hands of a woman looked set to be starting once again.

"So, better get it over with. Who is she, and why have you kept it quiet until now?"

"It's Miranda."

"Miranda Priestly? That bitch! Oh darling. My poor little girl!"

Andrea flinched at the sound of her mother's immediate reaction. There were no mixed feelings here.

"It's not like, she's not . . . She's lovely. I love her."

"How long has this been going on?"

"From six weeks ago tonight."

"And you're still working for her I suppose? She still has you at her beck and call day and night now then."

"Mom, yes, but I'm giving up the job this week. I'm going to stay home and write. "

"When you say home, I suppose you mean her house?"

"Yes, she has lovely children. The twins . . . . "

"Oh, I remember what you told us about the twins. They are the ones whose school work you did at 2 in the morning, whom you called, "Offspring from hell" at one time as I recall."

"Look Mom, I can explain. Please understand. Things are so different now. We really are in love. I want to be with her for ever. If you could only meet her . . . "

"I don't normally interfere in your life darling, but this time, yes, I think I should meet Miranda Priestly as soon as possible and have a few words with her. I have some time off in lieu already built up on my rosters, so I will come tomorrow, on the first flight I can get."

"Oh Mom, don't trouble to do that. Please . . . "

"No. I'll be there. I'll text you with the flight times. Maybe you can find me a hotel."

"You can stay here, or at the apartment. You don't need to trouble about a hotel."

"Your apartment then. I have the address, and I'll meet you there around lunchtime tomorrow."

"Mom, when you meet Miranda, you're going to love her, I promise. "

"Hmm. Let's wait and see, shall we? All I will say for now, is that you had better warn her about me, and the unlikelihood of it being love at first sight. I hope she has had a personality transplant and is now as sweet as you say. But I kind of doubt it. And no-body messes with my kids' affections without hearing about it from me. You know I always speak my mind."

Andrea's heart came up in her chest and tightened. Yes, she knew just how forthright and plain speaking her Mom could be. She also shared Miranda's fearless spirit, and had years of experience facing down bullies who had abused their children and cursed her in her role as a social worker. If she came to New York with that same assertive anger as her prime energy, it could end really badly for them all. Miranda could fire up like a dragon when provoked, and Andy feared that if they misunderstood and misread each other it could lead to an almighty row.

"Mom," she almost whimpered. "Please be nice. Don't start a fight as soon as you get here. I am truly in love, truly happy. This one is a keeper. Don't ruin it."

Her mother sighed. "Oh course I won't start any fight. But if there is one to be had, I might be the one to finish it. I suppose Miranda gave you your new IPhone, just so you have to take her calls night and day. Am I right?"

"Hmm, well, yes, but it's not what you think . . ."

"I suspect it is. Bye, darling. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."

"Bye Mom."

Andrea took her phone away from her ear and drooped visibly. The call couldn't have gone any worse if she had scripted it to be a disaster, and she hadn't even made it as far as telling her father. Mom was usually the more positive of the two when it came to unpacking complicated emotions. And this time, her emotions weren't complicated. She had not a shadow of a doubt about how much she loved Miranda and how committed she was to her.

Yes, Miranda could be crazy, capricious at times, strong headed to the point of stupidity, but she was also caring, creative, cuddly and genuinely cultured. She also made love like an angel. No-one could touch her in that respect. She was all Andy ever wanted in a partner.

The object of her affections walked into the kitchen at this point, just as Andy had sat down at the table and put her head in her hands. There was no need for words for her to see how things were. She crossed over to Andy and gathered her into her arms, kneeling down beside her so their faces were level. She touched the tears which had brimmed over from those huge dark eyes and were beginning to trickle down her cheek.

"I'm sorry, darling. I'm so sorry. I knew it would be so much harder for you than for me. I've got no-one apart from the twins whose opinion I care about enough to cry over. "

"It's not the gay thing, it's just . . . . "

Andy couldn't bear to say it.

"I know. It's me. The first page of my name on Google would tell them everything they need to know about what an internationally renowned monster I am."

"It's all my fault. I used to moan about you to them. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to bring you up in conversations. You overwhelmed me so much at first, I couldn't think straight."

"And I deserved every moan. I treated you horribly. It was all because I was already besotted with you, and trying to fight it off."

Andy tried to wipe her cheek but felt another sob coming.

She gulped, "My mother's coming to see us. Tomorrow. She's flying in. Believe me, you don't know how strong she can be. Don't let her persuade you to give me up, please!"

"Darling, that would be like cutting through my own windpipe. You are the breath in my body. No-one ever could persuade me. "

Miranda tugged Andy into her arms and kissed away her tears. "You've never described your mother though. Is she an Amazon wrestling champion? Do you think she might give me two black eyes and a few broken ribs?"

Andy gave a tiny smile. "You can decide when you see her. Some people do think she's somewhat formidable, and quite a few of those who didn't are now in the hospital wing of various gaols."

"Then I need my rest before meeting her. It can't be so bad. We both obviously adore you and want the best for you. I am just selfish enough to think that will always be in the closest proximity to my heart.

"Come up to bed my darling. I've already settled the twins, and they are fast asleep."

Andy let herself be taken upstairs and helped to undress, wash and crawl into Miranda's lovely bed. She wore her worn but comfortable cotton pyjamas with pictures of Betty Boop on them. Miranda slid in beside her and gently tugged her over until she lay across her breast and was held in a loving cuddle. The air-con kept the room almost chilly, so they pulled up the light down comforter, and lay together beneath it.

"Andrea darling, I got us into this, and I'll deal with it. Don't worry, I will be so nice to your mother, she won't know what's hit her."

"Hey, there's to be no violence. From either of you!"

"Of course not. On the contrary, I am going to ask her for your hand in marriage, in the best matriarchal tradition."

"Marriage?!"

"Why do you think I've bought property in Massachusetts? Now lie still. I want to discuss this with your two beautiful breasts, and see what they think. I am sure they will agree with me on the subject," and Miranda began very delicately to unfasten the Betty Boop pyjama jacket.

Her head followed her hand, and Andy gave herself up to Miranda's skills under the covers. Her tears had dried, and she was soon overwhelmed by emotions of a quite different sort. There wasn't anyone in the world who could tell her this was wrong, not even her mother. Whatever the next day had in store Miranda and she would face it together. But in the meantime . . .