"Bitch!" Kitty said with feeling when Mary finished her story.

"She is a bitch undoubtedly," said Elisabeth, "but I don't have a high opinion about him either. Forget him, Mary, he's not worth it. Jane will find you a nice young man in your cup, the one who will appreciate your qualities and who will be OK. Right, Jane?"

"Actually," said Jane looking into Mary's cup, "there's somebody here for you but it's not going to happen right now. You have to wait until summer at least."

"I can wait till summer." Mary said looking at her with her big honest eyes.

She was so happy to be with her friends, to feel their concern and support that even her loss didn't seem that tragic. After all who was Dan? Some ordinary guy, rather good-looking but ordinary. Full of that stupid stories about that stupid Australia…

…oh, Dan, I will miss you so much!

Kitty's cup didn't promise anything interesting or new. (Thank God for that, said Kitty.) Elisabeth when finished her coffee went to the sink and washed her cup. What are you doing, squeaked Lydia but Elisabeth waved her hand resolutely.

"I'm not looking at mine. I-am-not-looking-at-mine!" Jane said to herself and nevertheless did it. She didn't expect to see what she saw. On the "heart" side of her cup there were three figures. Two of them were holding hands while the third one stood apart. The part of the cup behind the third figure was impenetrably dark. What's this, thought Jane with her heart pounding. This month she saw Charles four times, once every week and time they spent together was wonderful, better than the best dream. In a way there was nothing astonishing in it, the more Jane got to know Charles the more remarkable, unbelievable and unique she found him. In other words, she was head over the heels with him. She wasn't entirely sure about his attitude: he was too controlled. Yet on their last date she sensed something different in him. She had a distinctive feeling that he wanted to tell her…

…to tell her something…

…something important?

Like ask her to leave Adam for him?

Before she saw her cup she was in doubts what she would tell him if he did that but now things changed. She saw it in her cup. She believed her cup. You can't flee away from your fate, she said to herself. She was frightened, happy and anticipating. She didn't think about her husband. She didn't even think about her children. She knew that one way or another everything would be arranged.

One way or another?

By the way Elisabeth's guests didn't get the original dessert she made for them (a gooseberry pie) because while it was cooling Patrick came in just to say "hello!" and feeling absolutely exhausted of such physical and intellectual exercise he ate half of it to support his fading strength. She couldn't prevent it because Superstar called at the very moment Pat was entering her flat and she went to her bedroom for a bit of privacy. So as a substitute to the gooseberry pie the girls got Baked Alaska. Now, if you're as good a cook as Mary take my advice: never attempt to make it with your own fair hands but buy this treat from a supermarket. You see, I know for sure that Mary tried baking it once. The result was slightly disappointing, instead of delightful sweet-sour-cold-hot dessert she got a revolting soggy mess.

To get a real taste of her new habitat Elisabeth took a week off after moving in. It was her first break this year and she thoroughly enjoyed it. She spent daytime making small home improvements or just finding new places for her numerous ornaments, places where they had better lighting or just looked nicer. She went to bed luxuriously late and then snuggled in it till almost midday. She didn't mind to live a life of recluse for a while and willingly cut herself from the humanity with the exception of short trips to the local food store and telephone conversations with her mother, the girls and Superstar.

She was unpleasantly surprised when on the fifth day of such heavenly existence Lydia appeared on her threshold.

"He's not calling," she said, "he's vanished. I haven't heard from him from that night! I wanted to call him myself, but I can't. I can do a lot of things but I can't call a man. You have to call him. And invite him here…like for a cup of coffee or a neighbourly drink. You're the best mates, so you can do it."

"He's probably busy, I'm not sure that he'll be happy if I'll call him without a reason."

"But you have a reason: coffee. Actually you have two reasons: coffee and me. You've got to help me with my private life, you're my friend. And you slept with my boyfriend at school, you see: you owe me!"

After a while Elisabeth gave up. "Serves him right", she thought vengefully dialling Patrick's number, "I warned him not to mess with my friends".

"Elisabeth, admit it: you're a telepath." Pat said merrily. "I was just going to call you. Put your worst clothes on, we're invited for … damn, I've forgotten the name of that thing we're going to eat. Something Asian."

"Why do I have to wear my worst clothes?"

"Because before eating this thing we have to make it."

"Sounds exciting," said Elisabeth cheerlessly, "I don't think I'm up to it."

"Of course, you are!" Pat said and as some kind of weird echo Lydia angrily hissed behind her back: "Of course, you are!"

"I'm not alone." Elisabeth said hoping that Pat would take a hint but he just hanged on her.

"Who is he?" he shouted jubilantly three seconds later storming into her flat.

Whatever he felt seeing Lydia instead of some hypothetical man he concealed it beautifully and Elisabeth mentally applauded him.

"Hi, Lydia," he said smiling nicely, "I thought Elisabeth-the-bad-girl is back shagging energetically a passing-by baker or a candlestick maker. Are you still in faithfulness, chastity and all that, Elisabeth?"

"Shut up. What do you want?"

"Eat. Let's go, they're waiting for us."

Any resistance was futile. Pat wanted them to go, Lydia was only too eager to go, Elisabeth couldn't do anything against their combined power and in no time she found herself in an old uncomfortable and rather neglected flat in Central London. There were a few people she thought she saw before with Pat while Lydia was happy to find one of her Brightonian friends. "Faith had worked in our hospital too but then she moved to London, to King's," she explained as if Elisabeth really cared. Faith was a very good-looking woman in her late thirties and when Elisabeth saw how she looked at Pat she said to herself: "uh-oh".

It was a bizarre but pleasant and carefree party. Their host was an Asian man who came to the UK for his PhD. Unfortunately Elisabeth didn't catch his name. Neither did she learn the name of the dish they were preparing in such harmony.

As I already said Elisabeth liked cooking and she didn't mind all this chopping of carrots and onions in an enormous quantity though she thought that it would be much faster and more effective to do that with the help of a food processor. But their host was as horrified by the idea as if she had proposed to castrate him. He insisted that all the ingredients had to be prepared accordingly to the ancient recipe otherwise the dish wouldn't have a proper taste. Elisabeth later cooked it at home her own (not ancient) way with the help of the modern gadgets. The taste was exactly the same while the time of preparation reduced by five times.

The dish was highly appreciated. Partly it happened because they all participated in making it. The only thing nobody was let to do was cutting meat. Their host did that himself. The other men didn't insist on helping him and the women weren't offered the honour. They were explained graciously that there were two things women never had to be allowed near: the modern technology and the meat. The reason according to him was the same: women weren't capable to understand either. Elisabeth noticed how Faith's eyes lit up dangerously: she was a computer programmer and a very good one as Lydia told to Elisabeth. Fortunately it was just the beginning of their evening and everyone was yet rather sober and cool-headed. Faith managed to compose herself.

And nothing happened.

The more they ate and drank, the more they relaxed. Elisabeth was rather surprised to see their host drinking alcohol with them because she always thought that it was forbidden in the region he came from.

"Not all of us abide the laws word for word," he laughed when she asked him about that, "I, for example, have only one wife at home."

"Though," he added winking to Elisabeth, "I don't mind to have one here too."

Elisabeth smiled politely showing him that she valued his exquisite sense of humour but at the same time not giving him any hope that he could get closer with her. She certainly wasn't interested. A bit later he started to show them how they were really supposed to eat their food: he made small balls of rice and meat with his fingers and then put them into everyone's mouth. Elisabeth thought it quite a disgusting habit and before her turn came up she left the table and went into the sitting room. Others joined her soon. They danced a bit and drank more and Elisabeth wasn't happy to see Patrick dancing with either Lydia or Faith and keeping a very smug expression on his face. He was thoroughly amused. Later she watched Faith having a really heated debate with their host about the role of a woman in society. It seemed that he met his match as Faith gave an impression of a hardened feminist. When slightly curious Elisabeth came closer to them Faith was saying:

"And how can you justify these horrible burkas or veils or whatever you make them to wear?"

"You really think it's better for a woman to go around half-naked so all the men can glare at her legs or breasts?"

"But it's you who glare at us. We don't glare at you, so why to cover women from head to toes?"

"Because women are weak. They always try to seduce men and they often succeed in that."

"Don't be seduced then," Elisabeth thought angrily, "because, I can assure you no matter how we're covered or uncovered we do it for our own convenience and I personally don't care at all whether I seduce somebody or not. For me there's only one man – MY man, others simply don't exist."

She was astonished by her mental outburst but she was so mad with Pat that she couldn't stop it. As if waiting for something like that to happen Pat immediately materialised by her side chewing a piece of cheese pie brought by one of the guests.

"I haven't yet danced with you tonight." Patrick said to Elisabeth.

"So we are terribly faithful now," he continued when they were moving languidly across the floor in some dark and empty room, "we finally met the One and other poor bastards don't exist for us anymore, hah?"

"And how it feels if I put my hand here and do something like that?" he asked. "Anything? Nothing?"

Elisabeth had to admit to herself that it felt great but she pushed his hand away and said crossly:

"Get lost, Pat! I'm not interested in you and your stupid tricks. Tell me, better, why are you doing that?"

"Just to check the level of your faithfulness."

"I'm not talking about that."

"What are you talking about then?"

"You know very well what I'm talking about. Faith and Lydia. You can sleep with all the women in the world and in any order, it's none of my business. But you shouldn't have to invite us here knowing that Faith would be present."

"Who told you that I slept with Faith?" Pat asked indignantly.

"Didn't you?"

"No."

"You know, it's the first time you've lied to me." Elisabeth said sadly.

"Alright, I've slept with her a couple of times," admitted Pat grudgingly, "what's the big deal?"

"And now you're having kicks of seeing them together, yeah?"

"My mistake. What do you want me to do now? Repent and go to monastery?"

"It will be best of all if you can leave quietly before the scandal starts."

"As you wish, master." Pat said sardonically and disappeared.

When Elisabeth returned to the room where the others were Lydia grabbed her hand and pull her into the distant corner.

"What were you talking about?" she demanded. "Did he ask about me? What did he ask? What did you tell? By the way where is he?"

"He's left. There were a few things he had to take care of."

"What things? Are you mad? Call him immediately and make him come back."

In vain Elisabeth tried to convince her that Pat wasn't going to return. Lydia insisted, stomped her foot and nearly shouted. Eventually she got what she wanted as she usually did.

"He's not answering the phone." Elisabeth said when they both listened to at least ten rings.

"Try again." Lydia demanded.

And so Elisabeth tried and tried and tried. Ages later she gave up.

"I'm sorry, Lydia, he's not home. Maybe he went to his parents."

"Do you know their number?"

"I certainly don't! And now I'm leaving. I'm really tired and want to get to bed more than anything else. Are you coming with me?"

"What for? If Pat isn't there I don't see the reason for me to stay with you overnight. I'll better go home with Faith. It looks like she knows Pat fairly well so we can talk and maybe I'll learn something knew from her that even you don't know."

"Be careful," said Elisabeth before thinking.

"Careful? Why?"

"She and Pat can be closer than you think." Elisabeth said unwillingly.

"Are you nuts? Faith is married and happily too. I know her husband, he's a great person and they're madly in love with each other."

"Whatever."

"No, really, Elisabeth, what's wrong with you? Now when you finally decided to settle down I would expect you to start changing. And first of all you have to work on your opinion about other people. You can't believe that everyone is like you or like you've been before. I don't mention your appalling attitude to Pat which I don't like at all. I can accept the fact that he had some women before me but why on Earth you always picture him as some Casanova? It rather offends me, you know, especially now when I want to go steady with him."

Elisabeth looked at her friend with some disdainful pity, shrugged her shoulders and moved towards the door goodbyeing to the left and to the right so to speak and firmly refusing to try some traditional stuffed pumpkin made personally by their host.

When Elisabeth came out of the building trying to figure out what would be faster: to take a bus or to find a taxi a dark shadow separated itself from the wall and walked towards her.

"Why are you here?" Elisabeth asked recognising Patrick.

"I've brought you here, I'm taking you back," he said firmly, "do you mind to walk home?"

"You want to walk?" Elisabeth asked incredulously knowing only too well that the only physical exercise Pat recognized was wrestling between the sheets.

And by the way it did keep him fit.

The walk to their house didn't take as much time as Elisabeth thought it would. Perhaps she simply didn't notice how long it was because they were somewhat animatedly discussing various issues.

"Are you still faithful?" Pat asked.

"You asked me the same question fifteen minutes ago," she said, "give it at least half an hour."

"Can you tell me honestly that you don't even want to screw somebody? I don't mean somebody specific, just a pure sex for sex."

"Yes, I want," said Elisabeth tiredly, "what have you expected me to say?

"Great! Let's have a f***. I won't tell anybody. Cross my heart!"

"Get lost, Pat. What's wrong with you today? You're talking rubbish, rubbish and even more rubbish."

"I don't know," he said unexpectedly, "maybe I'm jealous."

"Jealous? Of whom?"

"Of you. But it's not just envy that you've finally found somebody you really care of and I'm still all by myself. I'm also afraid that we won't be as good friends as we've been before."

"Elisabeth," he continued after a minute pause, "do you think I'll ever meet somebody special like you have?"

What could she say?

"Of course, you will," she promised and he grinned with relief as if he really believed her words.

She gave him a friendly squeeze in front of her door and when he hugged her back there was nothing sensual in that.

First thing Elisabeth did in her flat was to check her messages on the answering machine. There was one from Superstar and she smiled listening to his voice. He promised to call her in the morning as he was leaving for the place where she couldn't reach him. He was making a new movie and that kept him busy and didn't let to think about her too much. On the contrary Elisabeth had nothing to do and missed him every minute.

She took a shower. When she went out of the bathroom she realised that she didn't want to sleep after all. Instead of it she felt rather peckish which was strange as she recently had an ample meal. Nevertheless she went through her fridge and cupboards and at the end made herself some salad.

She snuggled comfortably on the sofa with her salad and a glass of juice, switched on TV but before she had time to pick a programme the telephone rung.

"How did you know?" Lydia shouted without explanation. "Did he tell you?"

"Hi, Lydia," said Elisabeth gloomily.

"Faith told me everything on our way to Brighton. Can you imagine how stupid I would look if I'd start first? And I was going to as a matter of fact. But she was faster. You know what she told me? That Pat left the party because of her. That he was mad seeing her dancing with what's-his-name, you know, the one with the goatee and that was the reason why he danced with me. She also told me that they knew each other for a while but there was nothing between them until two weeks ago. And then she tried to tell me how wonderful and passionate he was and if not for today's stupid misunderstanding she was going to have sex with him again in his place! How do you like that?"

"I don't," said Elisabeth as soothingly as she could, "but I've warned you, Lydia. Pat is a sort of person you don't take into your head. Or heart. Some other place – yes and without restrictions. And then it's very important to remember the main principle: enjoy and let the others enjoy too."

"You don't listen to me, do you? He slept with her at that very time when I was waiting for him."

"No, it's you who isn't listening. Has he ever promised you anything?"

"You're impossible," said Lydia, "I've thought you're on my side. I'm warning you, soon you will have to decide whether you are his friend or mine."

With those words she hanged on and Elisabeth sighed with relief but she switched her phone off. Just in case.

Next day Lydia called again.

"Do you know his e-mail address?" she asked and Elisabeth gave her his official one.

He had another address too but she wasn't sure that he would be happy if she shared it with Lydia.

"I'm going to send him a letter." Lydia said. "Do you want me to read it to you?"

The question was purely rhetoric as she started to read it at once.

I fell in love (it started) before that it was like being lost in the heart of a gloomy uninviting forest. There could be wild hungry animals behind every trunk waiting for me and no sound penetrated the sinister darkness of the thicket. But you came and everything changed: birds were singing and big bright butterflies were sitting on the big bright flowers and the forest turned to be a lovely park. We were great together and I grew to believe that it would last forever.

And then I was betrayed.

I don't know what has happened, I only know that it hasn't been my fault. My heart is broken but perhaps I'm overreacting. I hope your answer will make everything clear. Or you can call me, I'm at home whole day long. But if you'd decide to come it would be even better.

Lydia

"What do you think?" she asked rather cheerfully.

"I think it's a lovely letter and it will get even lovelier if you won't send it."

"Of course I will send it. He will read it, understand his mistakes and come to me."

"No, he won't. It will scare him away and he won't contact you at all. Lydia, you've got to accept the fact: he doesn't want a commitment of any sort. He likes women. Different women every time."

"Nonsense! It's either I or Faith and who will get him first. With the help of my letter I will have him and she won't."

"I wash my hands," said Elisabeth resignedly, "don't blame me if things won't go your way."

"What? Oh, alright, alright. I had no idea that you were such a defeatist. Anyway, don't call me today: I want to keep my line free."

I can promise that to you with great pleasure, Elisabeth thought uncharitably.

Lydia didn't call her anymore but Pat visited her in the evening.

"You always have a lot of delicious food," he said plaintively, "can you feed me: I'm hungry."

She just finished cooking for herself and as often made too much, she was only happy to share her supper with him.

"I've got bitki with vegetables," she said, "fancy some?"

"Sounds revolting. What are they?"

"Burgers."

"You and your Polish blood! Why can't you call things by their proper English names?"

"Burger isn't an English word and I'm not sure that bitki is Polish though it certainly came from the neighbourhood."

"I've got an e-mail from your friend," he said when they finished, "you know about it, of course."

"I'm aware of it, yes." Elisabeth said cautiously.

"Have you read it?"

"I was read it. Over the phone."

"Quite a pretty letter." Pat said airily.

"You are a jerk!" Elisabeth exploded. "I've never expected such callousness from you."

"Oh purle-ese! I hoped you would find it as funny as I did. Please, don't try to persuade me that I've really broken her heart. I haven't even broken her ego. She's still a hundred percent sure that she will get me."

"I'm not talking about Lydia. True, I'm not concerned much about her heart and like you I'm sure that it's just a whim. But I've lost my peace totally: she calls, she comes here and she talks about you all the time. I can't live like that anymore."

"What will I get if I'll take her off your back forever?"

"Nothing. It was all your fault in the first place."

"Think again. I'm offering you peace you're longing for."

"OK. What do you want?"

"Love, adoration, friendship and food like this from time to time. And you can scrap love and adoration, if you want."

"You've got a deal." Elisabeth said smiling.

"Where's your computer then?"

That's what he wrote.

Dear Lydia!

I read your beautiful, beautiful letter ("aren't there too much beautiful," Elisabeth asked, "you're overdoing it" and he said: "nah, six would be too much, two is just right") and I felt really proud that I could concur a heart of a woman like you. If I made you suffer, please, forgive me: I didn't mean to. I couldn't imagine that somebody like you would take me seriously. If only I knew… It's too late for our happiness now. I've met a woman, not as exquisite and unique like you, but still nice and kind-hearted. Yesterday after the party I popped the question and she said "yes". So we're engaged now. Oh wonderful, wonderful creature, forgive me and forget me.

…And I know that I'll never forget you.

Patrick

"She will never swallow it." Elisabeth said.

"With her self-esteem? Oh yes, she will. But perhaps I will take the last sentence away. Or she will think that she can try to separate me and my kind-hearted woman."

"What if she will really suffer?" Elisabeth asked, she thought about somebody like Mary in Lydia's position and felt rather uncomfortable.

"Elisabeth, why do you have such a low opinion of me? I never have flings with the women who have hearts. It's too dangerous and I'm a very careful person always crossing the road on the green lights and never eating ice-cream in the winter. Now tell me what you'll cook for me tomorrow?"

"Wait a second! At first I have to be sure that it has worked."

"It will, you can take my word for that."

"I don't think that I will take your word for anything."

"Have it your way then. Just tell me what you would cook for me in case if I were right and you were wrong."

"I don't know. What would you like?"

"For the main meal or for the dessert?"

"Is there any limit for your impertinency?"

"No."

"What about sweet chicken? That way you will have a 2-course meal in one."

"I'm not sure that I like the idea. I'd rather have 1-course meal of five or more dishes."

Lydia called Elisabeth two minutes later. She was full of pathos and self-sacrifice. For a quarter of an hour she spoke about nothing but Patrick's future happiness, then much to Elisabeth's relief she told her that regrettably she won't be able to discuss the matter with Elisabeth anymore. For the time being.

"But of course," said Lydia, "the day will come when my heart will mend and you and I will be sitting comfortably in your place or mine remembering the past in a sweet and light manner."

"Amen!" Elisabeth said putting the receiver down.

"Am I getting my meal?" Pat asked worriedly.

"What about mine?" thought Terry the Cat snoozing comfortably on Patrick's feet shod in long multi-coloured socks he brought home from Bulgaria as a souvenir.

Elisabeth was still cat-sitting.