It Was You, Page 31

  ‘For God’s sake, Alice, no.’ She laughed again.

  ‘OK,’ I said, though still unconvinced. ‘Your sister isn’t causing problems for you?’ I added, guessing at possible reasons for her weary tone.

  ‘Alice…’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘And no, she’s fine. Everything is fine.’

  ‘And Friday was fun, wasn’t it?’ I said. ‘Or at least the first half,’ I added ruefully.

  ‘It was a lovely evening,’ she said. ‘One of the best.’

  I smiled. ‘I’ll have to tell you about some of my conversations.’

  ‘Yes, you will. But tell me on Monday,’ she replied. ‘When you’ve had a bath.’

  ‘OK. Bye then.’

  ‘Bye, Alice. Lots of love,’ she said and then hung up.

  ‘Lots of love,’ I said into the silent phone and then headed for the bathroom, certain that Sophie was keeping something from me and not entirely looking forward to finding out what that was.

  Chapter 47

  Sunday with Dad proved the perfect antidote to the trauma of Friday and the emotional wringing-out of Saturday. He focused on all the right things; immediately expressing relief at the fact that Stephen’s bad character, as he put it, had been revealed sooner rather than later, and saying how sorry he felt for Catherine, who had invested so much more time in a relationship with him than I had. Other than that, he told me, in an unrelated fashion, how wonderful, beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted and popular I was and, of course, how much he loved me. After a long lunch, he took me for a walk and, wisely letting the matter of Stephen drop, distracted me with an account of his most recent baking tutorials with Hilary. These, along with all other things Hilary-related were, it seemed, going very well indeed, and I was relieved that my hiccough with Stephen, as he put it, didn’t seem to put too big a dent in his obvious happiness. He appeared to accept fully my assurances that I was coping with the situation and his overwhelming response seemed to be one of relief that I had escaped a dreadful situation before greater damage was done.

  My weekend therefore passed off remarkably well in the circumstances, and by the time I opened the street door of Moore Interior Design on Monday morning, I had to admit that there was a significant part of me already sharing Dad’s sense of relief at the passing of Stephen Powell and this helped to mute the ongoing twinges of a heavily dented ego.

  I closed the street door behind me, glanced at the busy shapes visible through the frosted glass door of Lewis Twinney Legal, and started to climb the stairs. The door into our offices was ajar but as I entered, I was greeted only by silence. I walked across to my desk, registering that the door to David’s office was closed. Sophie was nowhere to be seen and I at first assumed that she had gone for coffee, before spotting her bag on the armchair next to her desk. I looked back towards David’s office but, short of standing in front of it and peering through the small circle of glass near the top of his door, I couldn’t see who, if anyone, was in there. I assumed he at least must be, as he habitually left his door open whenever he wandered off.

  I put down my bag, hung up my jacket and sat down. Maybe Sophie had gone to the loo, I thought. I remained still for a few moments, listening for the sound of a flush, before tutting at myself and turning on the Mac.

  A few minutes of staring unseeingly at my screen later and curiosity got the better of me. I walked over to David’s office, raised myself onto tip-toe and peered through the glass porthole.

  They were both in there; David sitting behind his desk, his face expressionless, looking at Sophie who was sitting opposite him, with her back to me. Neither was speaking.

  I stood for a moment, transfixed by the rather odd scene and then returned to my desk and sat down. I couldn’t imagine what was going on. David’s response to any work crises was invariably to encourage, support and resolve; silent reproach was not his modus operandi. So I could assume only that the problem was a personal one.

  Motivated by a mixture of curiosity and concern, I was just considering knocking and entering when the door opened and Sophie emerged, closing the door gently behind her.

  She said nothing, offering me only a brief and exceptionally weary smile, before sitting down at her desk.

  I opened my mouth to ask the obvious question but was distracted from doing so by David’s door opening once again and the man himself walking out into the main office.

  ‘Hello, Alice,’ he said, in a tone which reminded me of his authoritative exchange with Eleanor Black on the night of her party. ‘I’ll be back at eleven.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘If Henry calls, please tell him that I’ve sourced the slate and delivery will be this week.’

  And with that, he was gone.

  I stared after him, my mouth hanging ajar, still desperate for an opportunity to interrogate.

  ‘I’ve resigned.’

  I turned towards Sophie. She was sitting, staring at the half-open door to David’s office. ‘What?’

  Rather than turn her head, she swivelled in her chair to face me, her upper body remaining still and automaton-like. ‘I’ve resigned,’ she repeated.

  ‘Why on earth have you done that?’ I was appalled.

  ‘Lots of reasons,’ she said tonelessly.

  ‘Have you got another job?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Then why resign? Are you unhappy here? Have we done something wrong?’

  She closed her eyes and slumped forward, resting her elbows on the desk in front of her and cradling her head in her hands; suddenly human again.

  ‘I love it here,’ she said. ‘I love you and David. I love working with you both. I just need a change.’

  ‘But why do you need a change if you’re so happy?’ I exclaimed. ‘I don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense. Explain it to me.’

  ‘I can’t, Alice,’ she said quietly. ‘Not yet.’ She looked up at me, clearly now on the verge of tears. She plucked a tissue from the box on her desk and blew her nose.

  ‘I just don’t understand,’ I repeated quietly.

  ‘I keep telling myself, it’s not like I won’t still see you,’ she said. ‘There’s still book group. And I’m planning to stay in Bristol.’

  I nodded, completely at a loss and feeling the benefits of Dad’s moral boosting efforts slowly sliding away. ‘When?’ I asked. It was all I could manage.

  She dropped a crumpled tissue into the bin under her desk and took another from the box. ‘I’m going to work a month’s notice,’ she said, now dabbing at her eyes.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll have found something else by then,’ I said, seeking refuge from bewildered misery in a platitude.

  She nodded. ‘I’m sure I will.’

  There was silence for a moment before she spoke again. ‘I was going to tell you on Saturday,’ she said. ‘But…’ Her voice trailed away.

  ‘I wish you had,’ I said. ‘I would have talked you out of it.’

  She looked at me sadly and shook her head. ‘I’ve been going round in circles up here for ages.’ She put a finger to the side of her head. ‘You’re not cross with me, are you, Alice? You know how much I love you.’

  I looked at her and, whilst completely unable to fathom her motives, and feeling undeniably stung by her decision, I had no wish to make anything more difficult for her than it clearly already was. I sighed. ‘Actually, I’m taking it very badly and utterly personally,’ I said.

  She smiled. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I knew you would.’

  I attempted to return the smile. ‘Why don’t you come out with Miriam and me tonight?’ I asked.

  ‘That’s really kind but I think I’ll pass,’ she said. ‘Another evening would be good, though. Any other evening actually. My calendar is that booked up.’

  ‘Mine too,’ I said. ‘The weekends are looking pretty empty. And don’t even get me started on summer.’ I rolled my eyes.

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry,’ she said, still teary but feigning brisk
and turning towards her screen. ‘I’m sure book group will have you hooked-up with another hunk before the summer is out.’ She looked over her shoulder at me. ‘Too soon for jokes?’ she asked.

  ‘Not at all,’ I said, standing up and reaching for my bag. ‘I’m just disappointed it was a joke. I’d hoped you’d be lining them up for next week. Now,’ I said walking towards the door, ‘latte or Americano?’

  ‘Espresso, please,’ she said. ‘Triple. It’s that kind of day.’

  ‘It certainly is,’ I said and headed off down the stairs, now fully-focused upon the sanctuary and sanity of a strong cup of coffee.

  Chapter 48

  ‘Crikey’, said Miriam, clearly drained of expletives by the events of the weekend. ‘And Sophie won’t say why she’s resigning?’

  I shook my head. ‘And she’s so upset about it, I can’t press her.’

  Miriam inhaled deeply and then exhaled an enormous sigh. ‘Gosh. It’s all gone a bit oo-er since Friday, hasn’t it?’

  ‘To put it mildly.’ I picked up my wine glass and relaxed back into the cushioned window seat; we had managed to secure The Cambridge’s cosiest alcove, with most other pub-goers this evening opting for the late sunshine of the beer garden.

  ‘And how long is her notice?’ asked Miriam.

  ‘A month.’

  ‘Golly. And how is David taking it?’

  ‘His reaction can best be described as variable.’

  She looked surprised. ‘I would have thought he’d be devastated.’

  ‘There have been distinct phases,’ I said. ‘He looked like he’d been hit by a truck when they were in his office. Then he was all masterful immediately afterwards.’

  ‘Masterful?’ queried Miriam. ‘David?’

  ‘Oh, he can do it, you know,’ I said, nodding. ‘It doesn’t happen very often – in fact I’ve only seen it once before – but he can do it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind seeing that. I’ve often thought he would be extremely attractive, minus the trust fund dither.’

  I laughed. ‘And you a married woman.’

  She sighed. ‘So, is he still being masterful about it?’

  I shook my head. ‘By the time he got back mid-morning, he was bordering on chipper.’

  ‘Chipper?’

  ‘Yes. But when I left to come here he seemed to be back in shock.’

  ‘Blimey.’

  ‘He’s a one-man lexicon of emotion at the moment.’

  ‘And Sophie?’ Miriam was eager for detail.

  ‘Well, she’s just morose beyond belief. It’s like working with Eeyore on a particularly down day.’ I drank my wine. ‘I just hope she hasn’t stopped to buy a fake fag on the way home. She hasn’t had a puff on one for weeks.’ I looked at Miriam and sighed. ‘You know, if someone had told me yesterday, that I’d be the most consistently cheerful person in the office today, I’d have thought they were insane.’

  She laughed. ‘And talking of insane,’ she said, ‘how are you? You look amazing. I expected to be greeted by a gibbering wreck. I know I would have been.’ She took a handful of peanuts from the bag open between us on the table. ‘Or are you still in shock?’

  I thought about it. ‘Well, Dad has been drumming it into me that I’ve had a lucky escape and that I should be thankful for that. And he’s right. So that’s where my focus is.’

  ‘Very wise.’

  ‘Plus,’ I said, joining Miriam in her assault on the peanuts, ‘there’s something else that until this afternoon I hadn’t quite admitted to myself, or to anyone else.’

  ‘Ooh, what?’ She leaned forward, her inner teenage surfacing, eager for secrets.

  ‘Well, when we went to Eleanor’s party and there was that business with her and the waiter…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘When we got outside, David said something like…’ I dredged my memory. ‘He said, “That’s me off the hook.”’

  ‘And you feel you’re off the hook with Stephen?’

  I nodded. ‘I don’t really understand it, but,’ I leaned back in my seat, ‘today, I felt relieved that it was over, and not just because of Catherine.’

  She eyed me intently. ‘That’s interesting.’

  ‘It is,’ I agreed. ‘Because I liked him, I enjoyed his company, I was looking forward to seeing him.’ I took the final peanut, which she had politely left for me. ‘But something wasn’t right.’

  ‘It certainly wasn’t. The rotter.’

  I laughed. ‘The rotter?’

  She smiled sheepishly. ‘Craig told me off for swearing in front of Phoebe on Saturday and now I’m trying not to swear at all – otherwise they just keep popping out.’

  ‘Oops,’ I pulled a face. ‘Was that while you were on the phone to me?’

  She nodded. ‘I didn’t know she was standing there but apparently she wandered off and asked Craig what a wanker was.’

  I put my hand to my mouth and laughed. ‘No!’

  ‘Isn’t that awful? But he was very quick thinking. Told her it was winker and that it was someone who can wink really quickly with both eyes.’

  ‘Isn’t that just blinking?’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  I grinned. ‘Genius save on his part.’

  ‘Yes, apart from the fact that she now keeps telling everyone Craig is a winker.’ She sighed and picked up her drink. ‘A woman in the park asked me if she was Australian.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ I said absently, my mind now on Craig. ‘So how is he? Craig, I mean.’

  She shot me a suspicious look over the top of her wine glass. ‘He’s fine,’ she said, somewhat defensively, and then, putting down her drink and softening her tone. ‘We’re fine.’

  ‘Are you?’

  She looked at me. ‘I didn’t say perfect. But he came home one evening and said he thought we should talk and so…’

  ‘So?’

  ‘And so we did.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And now,’ she took a deep breath, ‘we’re still talking and we’ll see how we go.’

  ‘I’m pleased,’ I said.

  She smiled. ‘So am I.’

  She sipped her drink and when she spoke again, it was to introduce a new topic of conversation.

  ‘Do you know what you’re doing for summer yet?’ she asked.

  I groaned. ‘Well, I had been planning to go away with Stephen.’

  She looked at me guiltily. ‘Sorry.’

  I shook my head. ‘It’s OK. I have an open invitation to go with Jane Crane to a villa in Spain.’

  ‘Which would be poetic, if nothing else,’ said Miriam.

  ‘True,’ I nodded. ‘But other than that – nothing planned.’ I laughed humourlessly. ‘And I mean really nothing. Even my weekends are now social deserts. I was supposed to be having dinner with Suzanna—’

  ‘Oh my goodness! Sh, sh, shhhhhh,’ Miriam interrupted, flapping a hand and quickly swallowing a large mouthful of wine. ‘Friday!’ She placed her glass hurriedly on the table. ‘We haven’t talked about Friday.’

  ‘Well, not—’

  ‘Did you know that Jon and Suzie are just good friends?’

  The question hit me as if fired from a crossbow. I looked at her, opened my mouth to speak, realised I had nothing intelligent to say and so closed it again.

  ‘Did you?’ pressed Miriam excitedly.

  I remained mute and simply shook my head.

  ‘Me neither!’ she exclaimed, before adding, as if to herself, ‘And if you didn’t know, I don’t think anyone can have known.’

  She looked up at me questioningly and I responded with a simultaneous nod of the head and shrug, which I hoped pretty much covered the situation.

  ‘Anyway, with all the horrid things happening on Friday night,’ Miriam continued rapidly, ‘I completely forgot about it. Well,’ she said, prodding me with a forefinger, ‘aren’t you going to say anything? Don’t you think that’s interesting?’

  I nodded again.

  There was silence for a
moment and then Miriam gasped. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ she said, now reaching out and gently rubbing my upper arm instead of prodding it. ‘I expect the last thing you want to gossip about is relationships.’

  I took a large gulp of wine, followed by a deep breath.

  ‘No, no,’ I said. ‘I’m just thinking it through. It’s very interesting.’

  ‘I know!’ Miriam’s eyes widened, her excitement returning. The effects of a single glass of wine were already beginning to tell and she clapped her hands in the manner of a sea lion at the zoo.

  I took another deep breath and then threw her a fish. ‘Tell me more,’ I said. ‘When did he tell you this?’

  She finished the small amount of wine remaining in her glass and shook her head. ‘Jon didn’t tell me, Suzie did – almost as soon as we arrived at Primrose.’

  ‘I see.’ I recalled Miriam’s animated conversation with Suzanna and her increasing maternal warmth towards her, now reflected in the use of the shortened version of her name.

  ‘They were in a relationship only for a short while and then…’

  I frowned, smiled and nodded as felt appropriate while Miriam chattered on, but I wasn’t really listening. I knew at some point I would have to ask her to repeat everything, but at that moment, I was content to focus on the simple fact of Jon’s newly-discovered single status. That was as much as I felt able to absorb for now.

  ‘…had a long and difficult conversation after Oliver! but she said she understood completely and…’

  Miriam’s words continued to wash over me.

  ‘…to give him space and stay friends.’

  She adjusted the position of a large cushion to her left and leaned back, which I recognised as a signal that she had finished.

  ‘Interesting,’ I said.

  She nodded. ‘But do you think I’m right?’

  ‘Hmm…’ I put my hand to my mouth and attempted a contemplative look. ‘It’s actually a very complex situation, isn’t it?’

  She eyed me coldly. ‘You haven’t listened to a single word I’ve said, have you?’

  I smiled sheepishly. ‘Don’t get tetchy with me, Miriam,’ I said. ‘I listened to an awful lot of your words. I was just a little taken aback by the news.’