Dolphin-san: Hello there once again, everyone! I can't tell you how completely pleased I am to find that we are now at thirty chapters of this fic and I'm still going strong with ideas for it. Hurray!

Chapter 30

Florence answered the front door.

Well, someone had to.

And there he was on the doorstep, smiling that boyish, winning smile of his, clutching a gaudy bunch of flowers in one hand and a Happy Birthday helium balloon in the other.

Florence smiled at Hiro in much the same way as she had once smiled at her first husband upon discovering that he had been sleeping with the wife of his commanding officer.

'Hello,' said Hiro. 'I –'

'He's not here,' Florence lied smoothly, as she had been instructed to do. Well, more or less. In reality, Ray had covered his face with his hands and gabbled, 'Don't let him in, just get him out of here, I can't see him now!'

'It's okay.' Hiro nodded easily. 'I wasn't expecting to see Ray. I just wanted to drop these off for him, so he'd see them as soon as he got back from lunch.' He grinned at Florence. 'You know how he can be when it comes to flowers.'

'Quite,' said Florence. Reaching forward in her chair, she took the bobbing balloon from him. 'I'll tell Ray you called.'

'And I'll be round to pick him up at six.' Hiro handed over the flowers. 'Ask him to be ready on time, won't you?'

This was accompanied by a charming smile, to make it sound more of a joke than a command.

'Fine.'

Hiro's smile faded.

'Is everything alright, Florence? Have I done something to upset you?'

Florence longed more than anything to tell him. The words were swelling up inside her like rush-hour commuters on a tube train, jostling to spill out. Oh, what she wouldn't give to be able to speak her mind . . .

But it wasn't her job, it was Ray's. And Ray needed time to collect his own tumultuous thoughts. The last thing he had gibbered to Florence was, 'Just get rid of him . . . don't say anything . . .'

Mentally, Florence zipped her mouth shut and triple-padlocked it.

'No.' Wheeling herself backwards, she prepared to close the front door. 'Everything's fine.'

'I don't believe this, I just can't believe it,' Ray wailed, reaching for his champagne glass. Glugging the contents like water, he closed his eyes, opened them again and peered around the edge of the damask curtain. But with Max leaning over his shoulder, there was no way in the world that it could all be a terrible mistake.

That was definitely Hiro climbing into his car.

His Hiro.



And Max's Hiro.

Ray felt sick. It was like discovering that the man of your dreams was a kitten murderer in his spare time.

Bev, taller than both of them, stood behind Ray and Max and hissed, 'Bastard,' as Hiro's car pulled away. She put an arm around each of them and shook her head. 'I don't know which of you to feel more sorry for.'

Max swivelled round, gazing at her in astonishment.

'You don't have to feel sorry for me!'

'Nor me,' Ray squealed, batting Bev's sympathetic hand off his shoulder. He was quivering, his spiky hair practically standing on end.

'But you must be upset,' said Bev, taken aback.

'Upset? UPSET? I'm not upset,' bellowed Ray, 'I'm bloody furious! He's a lying, cheating bastard and I'm glad I found out now, before . . . before . . . Jesus, how could he do this?'

He had a terrible urge to kick holes in the wall, demolish a couple of bookcases, wrench Florence's expensive curtains down from their poles. The bit about not being upset wasn't true, of course, but those namby-pamby feelings would just have to wait their turn. Ray took a deep, shuddery breath. Right now the anger was the uppermost in his mind. In fact he was probably so angry he could explode.

'You never told us your husbands name was Hiro.' He turned to Max in disbelief. 'All this time and you never even mentioned his name.'

'Neither did you! You didn't tell me your boyfriends name was Hiro. Oh, crikey,' Max gasped, his hand flying to his mouth. 'Are you the reason he left me?'

This was too much, this was too horrible for words. Ray's stomach churned like a cement mixer in freefall.

'When did he leave you? Bev, what was the date of that party . . . oh God, when did we meet Adrian and Hiro?'

'You met Adrian too . . . ?'

'It was a charity cocktail party,' Ray jabbered on. 'Florence gave us her tickets. Daisy Schofield was meant to be there, but she didn't turn up.'

Max twigged.

'Bruce had tickets as well, but he couldn't make it so he passed them on to me. I wondered where they'd gone.'

Bev had been busily riffling through the diary she carried with her at all times in case she was ever unexpectedly asked out. Finding what she was searching for, she looked up.

'April the twenty-third.'

'Bruce's wedding anniversary,' Florence remembered with a nod.

'We were meant to be going to the party together. Except,' Max said resignedly, 'Hiro had already left.'

'So he went on his own and met Ray instead.' Florence snorted with disgust. 'That does it. Next time Elizabeth Turnbull tries to bulldoze me into buying tickets for some bloody charity cocktail party, I'll tie a knot in her neck.'



For Max, the relief was tremendous. Hiro hadn't left him for Ray.

'Next time I see Hiro,' said Ray, 'I'll tie a knot in more than his neck.'

Max suddenly stifled a giggle.

'Oh, excuse me! If we're talking about my ex-husband, are you sure it's long enough to tie a knot in?'

Glancing at each other, Ray and Bev collapsed with laughter.

'Anyone want another drink?' Takao sounded resigned.

'I'm sorry, it must be a gay thing,' Florence explained. 'They have this way with words. Not for sensitive ears.'

Thirteen years in the hairdressing business had more or less desensitised Takao's ears. In that time, he felt, he had probably heard it all. To take offence now would be like a Status Quo freak objecting to the mewing of next doors kitten. But he was touched by Florence's concern.

'Why don't I ring the restaurant, let them know we're going to be late?' He paused. 'Then, if you like, I could cut your hair.'

Ray, still hopelessly agitated, had taken up smoking in a major way and was even messier with it than Bev. In deference to Max's unborn child and – more immediately – Florence's soft furnishings, they had moved outside into the sunny back garden.

Florence ran arthritic fingers over her haphazardly piled-up hair. Normally Ray dealt with it, but this morning she had executed the task herself.



Actually, executed pretty much described the end result.

'It must be bad.' Florence grimaced. 'I'm sure you don't make a habit of accosting strangers in the street, offering to snip them into shape.'

'We aren't in the street,' said Takao. 'And I gave up smoking six months ago. It's easier if I keep my hands occupied.'

'From what Ray tells me, you certainly do that.'

Takao watched her pull an eccentric assortment of combs from her hair and drop them into her lap. 'Ready to go for it?'

'Why not?' Florence had endured months of badgering from Ray, urging her to get her hair cut. 'If you're sure you've got time.'

Like Bev and her beloved diary, Takao never went anywhere without his scissors. As he slid them out of their case, he glanced across the table, around which Ray, Bev and Max were huddles like witches.

'I should think so. Anyway,' he assured Florence, 'I'm a fast worker.'

Her eye's, bright as a bird's, met Takao's.

'Ray told me that too. Just do me a favour, would you, before you start?'

'What?'

'Take that champagne away from him.' Florence nodded in the direction of Ray and the rapidly emptying bottle clutched to his chest. 'At this rate he's going to spend the rest of his birthday flat on his back. Poor lamb,' she added sympathetically, 'and not in the way he planned.'

Dolphin-san: So there's the update on the whole they know Hiro's dirty secret thing. Hope you all like it so far, it's great writing it.

Ja ne.