Val McDermid - Northanger Abbey

Then, ‘Here come my dear girls,’ cried Martha, pointing at three fashionably dressed females who, arm in arm, were moving towards them along the wooden duckboards, the swagger of their passage forcing everyone else to detour on to the still-damp grass. They looked as if they’d popped out of the same mould, each having slightly less clean-cut lines than the previous sister. So the eldest had features that could almost be described as sharp, while the youngest still had a puppy plumpness that lacked such clear definition. All three had identical tawny hair and eyes of a blue that is sometimes described as icy but which Cat preferred to think of as Scandinavian, having watched too many subtitled TV detective serials.

The trio, who were giggling at some private joke, made a scant acknowledgement of their mother and pulled up more chairs. ‘Girls, this is my old school friend Susie Allen. Can you believe it’s over twenty-five years since we’ve seen each other?’ Martha’s tone was apologetic.

The eldest raised her eyebrows. ‘I bet you didn’t recognise her,’ she said to Susie.

‘Of course I did,’ Susie said.

Martha butted in. ‘Susie, this is Isabella—’

‘Bella,’ the eldest interrupted, rolling her eyes in a ‘pity me’ expression.

‘—and then Jessica, and last but not least, Claire. Girls, this is Cat – I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your surname.’

‘Morland,’ Cat said.

‘Girls, this is Cat Morland from Dorset. She’s a neighbour of Susie’s, come to Edinburgh with Susie and her husband.’

Bella, who had looked bored up to that point suddenly perked up. ‘Morland? From Dorset? OMG, girls. Look at this.’ And she pointed dramatically at Cat.

Cat flushed. Was she so much of a country bumpkin that it was obvious on sight to these London sophisticates?

‘Oh God, you’re right,’ Jessica said. ‘I just thought we must have seen her out and about, but of course, that’s what it is.’

‘What are you girls on about?’ Martha asked.

‘Can’t you see it, Ma?’ Bella demanded. ‘She’s, like, his spitting image.’

‘Jamie Morland,’ Claire said wearily. Clearly her role in the trio was to clarify her sisters’ gnomic utterances. ‘Johnny’s friend from Oxford who came to stay at Easter. From Dorset.’

‘The one that Bella’s been losing sleep over,’ Jessica chipped in.

‘I so am not,’ her sister protested. ‘Can I help it if he totally likes me? I mean, if somebody keeps texting you, it’s really rude to not text them back, right?’

‘So, let me get this straight,’ Martha said. ‘Are you Jamie Morland’s sister?’

‘We call him James,’ Cat said. ‘He was at St John’s College.’

‘He’s our brother Johnny’s sidekick,’ Claire said. ‘And he’s very keen on Bella.’

This was news to Cat, who had thought until then that she and her brother were close. Obviously, when he was separated from his family, James had a very different life from the one apparent to those who thought they knew him. He had never mentioned Johnny Thorpe or his sisters round the family dinner table. Cat wondered why, since they seemed so fond of him.

‘Hey, Cat, let’s take a wander round and see who we can spot,’ Bella said, jumping up and pulling Cat to her feet. She linked arms with her as she’d done previously with her sisters, but shook her head briskly at Jessica and Claire when they made a move to join them. ‘Not now, brats. I need to get to know Cat.’

‘Get the inside track on Jamie, more like,’ Jess grumbled.

Ignoring her, Bella swept Cat along. Before she knew it, they were gossiping about the things that entertain young women of a certain age and type. It was all new to Cat, but as they strolled in the sunshine, she managed to appear as if she were entirely familiar with a conversational world that encompassed intimate gossip about people neither of them had ever met, current fashions and where the cool people were hanging out in Edinburgh. In short, a range of subjects that had no useful application whatsoever.

Luckily, Bella required little input from her companion when it came to conversation. She knew enough of the world to entertain both and Cat was sufficiently well brought up to provide the appropriate prompts. But eventually, even Bella ran out of steam. ‘What are you seeing today?’ Cat asked when it was clear she was required to pick up the baton of dialogue.

‘We’ve got the hot ticket of the day,’ Bella said. ‘The open-air adaptation of Ginny Blackstock’s Cupcakes to Die For at the Botanic Gardens.’

Cat squeaked with delight. ‘So have we.’

‘Wow. With your brother being Jamie and all, it’s like we’re totally meant to be bgfs,’ Bella whooped. ‘Oh, Cat, this is so going to be the best Edinburgh ever.’

Cat had convinced herself that in spite of Henry Tilney’s failure to appear at the Book Festival grounds, he would surely attend the dramatic adaptation of last year’s bestselling novel about love, zombies and patisserie, Cupcakes to Die For . Had they not touched on the subject of the fluency of women’s writing at Mrs Alexander’s dance class? Was this not the most sought-after ticket of the Fringe? And was not the Botanic Gardens the coolest of venues?

But again, she was disappointed. There was no sign of Henry among the milling audience at the al fresco performance, nor even anyone Cat could momentarily mistake for him. However, that evening there was some slight mitigation of her disappointment for now she had a friend to giggle and gossip with.

Bella had summoned Cat with an enthusiastic wave as soon as she had clapped eyes on her, and Cat had been glad to see her. With Bella, she could indulge her daydreams of Henry to the full. The very idea of discussing him with Susie Allen made the back of her neck turn chill with horror.

But before they could delve into the very depth of their respective affections for James Morland and Henry Tilney, the young women were obliged to watch the play, which, unusually, turned out to be as entertaining as its advance publicity had promised. Even the weather joined in the fun, bathing the audience in warm sunshine throughout. In a momentary lull, Cat looked around in vain for Henry and noticed Mr Allen muttering eagerly into his phone. She wondered whether this was to be his next venture in the West End. If so, it would surely add another zero to his bank balance, and on the advantageous side of the decimal point.

Once the final applause had died away, Bella and Cat escaped on their own to roam the gardens and strengthen those bonds of friendship they had started to weave earlier. ‘So, are you still at school?’ Bella asked.

‘I’ve never been at school.’

Bella’s eyes widened. ‘Wow, how did you get away with that?’

‘We were all home schooled. My mum thought it was better that way.’

‘Amazing. And Jamie got into Oxford. Your mum must be a totally cool teacher.’

Cat shrugged. ‘I suppose. But I don’t know what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. I’m not academic like James.’

‘Oh, something will turn up. You could always get a job as a chalet girl over the winter while you decide.’

‘What about you?’ Cat was eager to turn the talk away from her lack of prospects, a subject that had begun increasingly to dismay her.

‘Camden School for Girls,’ Bella intoned as if she were revealing she’d spent her youth in a penal institution. ‘Ma spent all the money sending our brother Johnny to a classy boarding school so there was nothing left for us girls. I’ve left now, though.’

‘And what are you going to do?’

‘I help out in the business. I’m learning as I go. It can be fun sometimes, but mostly it’s pretty boring and Ma can’t afford to pay me much, so it’s a bit of a dead end. I need to find me a man to pamper me.’