Clicking Her Heels

LUCY HEPBURN

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

AVON

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A Paperback Original 2007

Copyright © Working Partners 2007

Lucy Hepburn asserts the moral right to

be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is

available from the British Library

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Ebook Edition © JANUARY 2009 ISBN: 9780007278893

Version: 2018-05-17

With special thanks to Erica Munro

The average person walks the equivalent of four anda half times round the earth in a lifetime.

They’re going to need a lot of shoes.

Title PageCopyrightDedicationEpigraphPrologueChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter NineteenChapter TwentyChapter Twenty-OneChapter Twenty-TwoChapter Twenty-ThreeChapter Twenty-FourChapter Twenty-FiveChapter Twenty-SixChapter Twenty-SevenChapter Twenty-EightChapter Twenty-NineChapter ThirtyChapter Thirty-OneChapter Thirty-TwoChapter Thirty-ThreeChapter Thirty-FourChapter Thirty-FiveEpilogueAbout the AuthorAbout the Publisher

Saturday, early morning, and twenty-four-year-old Amy Marsh was running through her checklist, trying to keep a lid on her mounting excitement.

OK – purse, phone, Oyster Card – check.

A–Z – check.

Bus and tube maps – check.

Morning sunshine peeked in and winked at her through the slats of the wooden blinds in the third-floor flat she shared with her boyfriend, Justin.

Lip gloss – check.

Bottle of water – check.

Justin was still asleep, exhausted after larging it into the small hours at some hip PR party he’d organised for one of his new bands. Amy was glad. Had he been up he’d only tease her about how she got more excited about these missions than she ever did about going out on dates with him.

‘Huh, that’s not true,’ she’d murmured.

Sensible shoes – NO WAY!

She looked down at her feet and smiled.

‘Or is it?’

The blue denim Gucci wedges she’d bought for a song off the Internet a couple of months before looked stunning, as well as adding three much-needed inches to her five-foot-two frame. If she paced herself, they would easily carry her round the streets for a day. Well, at least they would if she took a bus or two along the way.

Then she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, studying the young woman who looked back at her with a quizzical shrug. Her dark brown hair swung glossily around her shoulders, her pale skin looked fresh and clear, and her hazel eyes glittered with anticipation.

Not bad, I guess.

Comb – check.

Eyeliner – check – no, forget that, I’m fine with justthe touch I’ve got on already.

She wore a crisp, sleeveless white top and her favourite skinny jeans, the pale blue bottom-hugging ones that flattered her figure. Then, as a final thought before skipping out of the Victorian apartment building to catch the tube, she pulled off the chunky wooden bangle that was knocking annoyingly against her watch.

After all, she smiled to herself, when it comes to shoe shopping, there’s no room for distractions …

Thirty minutes later she was standing in a gorgeous shoe shop in Covent Garden with Debbie and Jesminder, her best friends from aclickaway.com, the Internet travel company where they worked.

Amy dug Jesminder in the ribs. ‘Over there,’ she hissed. ‘Green snakeskin mules third shelf down.’

Jesminder looked and frowned. ‘Hmm, do you think? Aren’t they a bit flimsy?’

‘Flimsy?’ Amy echoed in disgust. ‘Outright drop-dead gorgeous, I think you mean.’

Jesminder tilted her head to one side, taking another long look. ‘Do I? Well, they just don’t look very easy to walk in, that’s all.’

Debbie, tall and curvy, her long blonde hair freshly highlighted and styled in a shaggy knot at the nape of her neck, called over her shoulder, ‘OK, where did you say you were off to tonight again?’

Amy coloured. ‘Um, well, actually, I didn’t …’

Now was the time to come clean, she guessed. It was bad enough keeping it a secret from Justin, but she should be able to tell her friends.

‘Jes, hello? It’s Amy we’re talking about here!’ said Debbie, not noticing Amy’s unease. ‘It’s