It Was You, Page 34

  ‘She had a lovely, lovely time,’ Miriam interrupted. ‘I’ve never seen her like this and I just hope it’s all reciprocated. I’m trying not to stress about it. You know, I said to Craig I wonder if I worry and fuss about everyone else because I don’t want to look too closely at myself.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s—’

  ‘We just have to sort out our own relationships and then listen and support where we can, don’t we, Alice?’ She paused. ‘Because what will be, will be. I think there’s enormous comfort in that. I just hope he feels the same. I’d hate to see her hurt,’ she continued quietly. ‘He hasn’t suggested anything. And modern woman though she is, I can’t see her asking him out on a—’

  I suddenly remembered Hugh, opened my eyes and sat up. ‘Ooh, sorry to interrupt, Miriam, but I must tell you quickly that Hugh is planning to ask Romy out.’

  There was what sounded like a horrified gasp at the other end of the line. ‘He’s not!’ she said breathlessly. ‘He told you that?’

  ‘Yes, on the way home. He plans to take her to see either dead bodies, or a play, or maybe both.’

  ‘I must tell her!’ she said, sounding panicked. ‘Or is that too interfering? Do you think I should tell her?’

  ‘Well, I’d want to know if I was her,’ I said. ‘I’d want to be prepared for something like that, if I could be, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I would,’ she said and hung up.

  I sat there with the phone to my ear for a moment or two, before registering that she’d actually gone. I considered calling her back, but it was approaching midnight and judging by the panic in her voice, and her inebriated haste to be gone, she would be too busy hammering down Romy’s bedroom door to hear the phone ringing anyway.

  I placed my phone on the chest of drawers next to my bed, switched off the light and lay back down. I wondered momentarily if I should call Hugh and pass on the bad news about Romy’s feelings for Jon. However, I quickly came to the conclusion that Miriam was right: getting involved in other people’s relationships was not a good idea. Things must just be allowed to happen. Hugh would suggest a date, Romy would refuse Hugh with compassion, and everyone would recover in time.

  And with the chorus of Que Sera, Sera playing on a soothing loop in my head, I drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 54

  For the next week or so, work dominated my life like never before. And although the primary reason for this was Sophie’s imminent departure, the distractions of the office were, in some respects, very welcome. They meant that I had little, or no, time to think about Stephen or, most crucially, about Jon and Romy.

  I had had one reminder of them, in the form of a text from Miriam, saying simply:

  I know you’re hard at work but quick Romy update… It’s dinner for two! Everything’s coming up roses! xx

  I sent a brief, appropriately positive, response consisting of a smiley face, three exclamation marks and four kisses and left it at that, unable to bring myself to request details.

  The only direct contact I had had with Jon since our foursome dinner, was a number of light-hearted texts from him, suggesting possible dates for a drink. I wondered if he wanted, amongst other things, to talk to me about Romy, and while I was braced for that, and increasingly determined to feel good about it, work offered me a genuine excuse for postponing an evening out until such time as I could express complete, rather than muted, happiness for the pair of them.

  Personal struggles aside, the process of trying to find Sophie’s replacement was, meanwhile, proving depressing. Not because of the quality of the candidates – most were very pleasant and came with glowing references, and every single one of them was as well, or better, qualified than Sophie on paper. But none of them was Sophie – and Sophie was what we wanted. After a week of interviews, and almost three weeks after Sophie had handed in her notice, I was beginning to despair of us ever appointing.

  ‘We’ve got to pick someone, David,’ I said, as we sat in his office one evening, staring at a meeting-table strewn with CVs, interview notes and letters of recommendation. It was almost half-past seven and Sophie was hard at work in the main office, catching up on time missed due to an interview earlier that day. There was a book group meeting at Miriam’s that evening and we had eaten dinner at our desks, with a view to going straight there.

  David leaned back in his chair. ‘I know,’ was all he said.

  We looked at each other and sighed simultaneously. ‘Look,’ I said, ‘I can’t think of anything cheerful to say about this but people do move on.’ He nodded. ‘And if we pick the right person, we can still have a great working environment.’ He nodded again and I picked up a CV. ‘What about Merrin?’ I asked, placing the stapled sheets in front of him. ‘She’s bright, qualified, smiley, shares a lot of your interests…’ He continued to nod. ‘Oh for goodness sake, David, stop nodding and say something.’

  ‘I’m not sure Merrin would speak her mind,’ he said.

  ‘In what context?’ I asked. ‘In the context of the job?’ I looked over my shoulder at the half-open door and lowered my voice. ‘Or in the context of your annoying cough and your insistence upon dating harridans?’

  His expression remained unchanged. ‘The latter, obviously,’ he said.

  ‘Well,’ I said, gesturing in frustration at the paperwork littering the table, ‘you might as well set fire to this little lot then. Oh and why not throw the business on the bonfire while you’re at it? Because unless you start to drop projects, you and I cannot manage alone.’

  ‘Give me until close of play tomorrow,’ he said.

  I threw my hands up. ‘But then it’s the weekend and we can’t start any balls rolling until Monday. We’ve been going over these for days already. There’s nothing more to think about. She leaves in just over a week, David. Every one of these applicants, with the exception of Smelly Jeremy – and I am not working with him – has to give at least a month’s notice.’

  He stared fixedly at the table. ‘I will make a decision tomorrow,’ he said. ‘Remind me of your preferences.’

  ‘Well, I’d be happy with any of these three,’ I indicated the relevant CVs. ‘But I warmed to Merrin more than to the others.’

  He nodded. ‘I think we’re on the same page. If I reach a different conclusion, I shall of course run it past you.’ He looked at the clock. ‘You’d better go,’ he said, attempting a smile. ‘You don’t want to be late.’

  I nodded. ‘You do know I’m just as miserable about this as you are, don’t you?’

  ‘I do,’ he said. ‘But thank you for keeping a steady head.’

  I smiled. ‘I might add “steady head” to my own CV.’

  He stood up and walked back to his desk. ‘If you ever try to leave, I’ll give you a terrible reference,’ he said tonelessly.

  ‘And yet you gave Sophie a fabulous one,’ I replied, rising to my feet.

  ‘This is true.’ He sat down in the brown leather chair behind his desk. ‘But then, as you know, I am completely and utterly terrified of her.’

  Chapter 55

  ‘Do come in,’ said Craig, opening the front door and waving us into the hallway, with a graceful sweep of his arm.

  ‘You on the door tonight then, Craig?’ said Sophie.

  ‘I am indeed,’ he said, ‘and serving drinks. What can I get you?’

  ‘Waiter service,’ Sophie grinned. ‘I’m just disappointed Miriam didn’t get you a little bow tie and a pinny.’

  ‘They’re upstairs,’ said Craig, ‘for later.’

  ‘Love it,’ Sophie laughed. ‘And I’d love a red wine too, if there’s one going.’ Craig nodded.

  ‘Hello!’ Miriam bustled out into the hallway, beaming. She slipped her arm around Craig’s waist and he reciprocated with an arm around her shoulders. She looked up at him. ‘Do you need a hand carrying drinks?’

  ‘Why don’t I come into the kitchen and help?’ I suggested.

  Craig nodded and smiled. ‘Thanks,’ he said. />
  ‘Great,’ said Miriam, reaching out and taking Sophie’s hand. ‘And you come through with me. I’ve got tales to tell.’

  She headed off with Sophie, whilst Craig and I made our way into the kitchen. Once there, he opened the fridge, took out several bottles and began to pour various drinks.

  ‘What can I get you?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ll have a hug for starters,’ I said.

  He put down the bottle in his hand, turned and hugged me.

  ‘You’re looking better,’ I said.

  I felt him sigh, before we released each other. ‘We have started to prioritise,’ he said, recommencing pouring drinks. ‘And it might be that a house this size,’ he looked around, ‘just isn’t a priority.’

  I felt suddenly anxious. ‘How is work going?’

  He glanced up at me, before returning his attention to the drinks. ‘Don’t panic. The work is still there. I’ve just eased up on it a bit,’ he said ‘and that has to have consequences. But Miriam and I are much better and that’s our focus. We both want it to work.’ He shrugged philosophically. ‘As far as everything else goes, we’ll just have to wait and see.’ He looked up at me again. ‘What did you say you wanted to drink?’ he asked. ‘I’ve forgotten.’

  ‘I didn’t say,’ I replied, and then, accepting the change of subject, ‘I’ll have a red wine, please.’

  He poured the wine. ‘Right,’ he said, pointing at the drinks on the table, ‘red for Sophie, red for you and a beer each for Abigail and Jon. Hey, hang on,’ he said, as I attempted to pick up two glasses of wine and a beer. ‘You just take your wine and Jon’s beer, I’ll bring the other two. I know what you’re like.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, slowly exiting the kitchen, focusing particularly upon the brimming glass of red wine in my left hand.

  I entered the living room to a chorus of ‘hellos’ and a hasty dash from Miriam to relieve me of the red wine. ‘Here, let me. I’ll hand it to you when you’re sitting down,’ she said, taking the wine and following as I headed towards Jon, who was sitting on the sofa next to Connie. The latter stood as I approached and gave me a crushing hug, nearly causing me to quite literally fall at the last with the beer. She then sat back down on the sofa, moving up and patting the vacated space between herself and Jon. It was the first time I had seen her since splitting with Stephen and although we had talked a number of times on the phone, she looked, I thought, a little anxious.

  I sat down, smiling at both her and Jon and handing him his beer.

  He returned the smile. ‘Thanks,’ he said.

  Miriam handed me my wine. ‘There you go,’ she said, in the mummy voice she usually reserved for Phoebe, ‘now do be careful with that.’

  ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like to put it in a tippy cup for me, Miriam?’ I asked.

  She ignored the comment and returned to her seat across the room, immediately continuing her conversation with Abs and Sophie, as Craig handed out the rest of the drinks and then exited, with a grin and a wave to Jon.

  ‘Are you well, Alice?’ asked Connie, her tone even more diffident than usual.

  ‘I’m really well, Connie,’ I said turning towards her. ‘Everything is really good; busy, but good. The only cloud on my horizon is that,’ I glanced across the room and then lowered my voice, ‘Sophie is leaving,’ I said, keen to imply that Stephen was no longer a concern.

  ‘Oh, my goodness, I know,’ she whispered. ‘How sad for you and David.’ She placed a devastated hand on her chest. ‘Although, of course,’ she added, ‘you won’t lose touch. She’s not moving home, is she?’

  I shook my head. ‘She’s job-hunting in Bristol.’ I looked again at Sophie who, along with Abs was listening intently to the conclusion of some breathless anecdote or other from Miriam. ‘What’s Miriam so animated about?’ I asked, gesturing towards the group with my wine glass and looking first at Connie, then at Jon.

  ‘Romy has a job interview here next week,’ said Jon.

  ‘Oh, I see,’ I said.

  ‘Miriam is so excited about it all,’ said Connie. ‘She would just so love to have Romy nearby.’ I nodded whilst focusing determinedly on Connie, unwilling to look at Jon. ‘And, of course, Romy has a date this weekend. Isn’t that right, Jon?’ Connie continued, leaning in front of me and smiling at Jon.

  I heard him sigh. ‘Sometimes,’ he said, ‘just sometimes, it would be nice to have another Y chromosome in this book group.’

  I forced myself to turn towards him and managed a smile. ‘Has there been a little too much girl talk about it already this evening?’ I asked.

  He smiled and Connie laughed. ‘We’re all just excited, that’s all,’ she said. ‘It’s a nice thing.’

  ‘It is,’ I said, again looking at Jon and surprised to discover him so relaxed about the conversation. ‘It’s a very nice thing.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’m not disagreeing with you.’

  ‘I’d be slightly worried if you were,’ I said.

  ‘Hey, Connie,’ Sophie called to her from across the room. ‘I’m thinking of an American road-trip this summer.’

  ‘That’s news,’ I interjected. ‘Since when?’

  ‘Since right now,’ said Sophie, fixing me with a stare.

  ‘You’ve never mentioned it,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, well, I’ve never mentioned that I’ve got a liking for cold baked beans mixed with mayonnaise, but it’s still a fact.’ She looked at Connie, beamed and beckoned her over. ‘Can I pick your brain for two minutes, Connie?’

  Connie looked both flattered and thrilled. ‘Oh my goodness, yes,’ she said, rising to her feet. ‘And depending upon where you visit, Sophie, I could put you in touch with any number of friends who would be delighted to show you around. Excuse me, Alice… Jon.’ She walked over to Sophie and sat down next to her.

  I leaned back on the sofa. ‘I did know about the cold baked bean thing, actually,’ I muttered.

  Jon laughed. I looked at him and smiled. ‘I’m ridiculous, I know,’ I said.

  He shook his head and opened his mouth to speak.

  I held up a hand. ‘Don’t say any more. Just let me take the head shake as a compliment.’

  ‘Feel free,’ he said, before adding more quietly. ‘So, how are things with you?’

  I looked at Sophie. ‘I’m quite down about that,’ I said.

  ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘But I’m sure it will all work out.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Things do, don’t they?’

  ‘I don’t like seeing you unhappy,’ he said.

  Both tone and sentiment struck me as unusually serious. I turned to look at him, unable to think immediately of an appropriate response.

  ‘Don’t you?’ was the one I eventually settled for.

  ‘I hope that’s not a genuine query,’ he said.

  I shook my head. ‘Of course not. I just didn’t really know what to say, so I said something inane. I do that a lot.’ I paused. ‘As you know.’

  He didn’t reply.

  ‘Ironically, that was itself quite an inane thing to say,’ I mumbled, unsettled by his silence. ‘And now,’ I closed my eyes, ‘if you don’t say something quickly, I’ll just carry on becoming more and more inane until you feel compelled to smother me with a cushion.’

  ‘Square or round?’ he asked. I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was smiling now. ‘I thought you might have a preference.’

  I sighed and sipped my wine. ‘Hexagonal box-edge, please.’

  ‘Are you free for a drink tomorrow?’ he asked suddenly.

  I looked at him and hesitated, taken by surprise and wondering for how long I would be able to put off the inevitable discussion about Romy. ‘Work is just so full on,’ I said, after a moment.

  He nodded. ‘OK. Well, let me know when it’s not.’

  ‘OK.’ I looked down at my copy of Jane Eyre. ‘I’ve actually read the whole thing, you know,’ I said.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. And that’s despite having r
ead it twice before.’

  ‘I’m impressed,’ he said. ‘Do you enjoy it every time?’

  I nodded and continued to stare at the book in my hand. ‘I do.’

  ‘Tell me what you like about it.’

  ‘The equality of feeling,’ I said immediately, more to myself than to him.

  ‘That sounds like a title,’ he said quietly. ‘Now I need to hear the essay.’

  I looked up at him again. His expression was one of serious interest. For just a moment, the ache of feelings not reciprocated subsided and I smiled, picturing myself leaning towards him and kissing him, untroubled by any consideration of the possible consequences. As I continued to gaze up at him, his expression softened and he smiled back at me. I took a deep breath. ‘Probably best for me to stick to Jane Eyre tonight,’ I said.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Miriam. She was standing over me with a wine bottle. ‘Do you want a top-up before I start the book chat?’

  Grateful for the distraction, I looked away from Jon and gestured at my still-brimming glass of red. ‘Only if you’re thinking of pouring it directly into my mouth.’

  ‘Wouldn’t be the first time,’ she said and then turned to Jon. ‘Another beer, Jon?’

  ‘No, I’m fine, thanks,’ he smiled.

  ‘Right.’ She turned and placed the bottle of wine on a table by the window before returning to her seat. ‘Jane Eyre. I think I’d first just like to say thank you to Connie for encouraging us to choose it.’

  Connie smiled self-consciously.

  ‘I was about fifteen or sixteen last time I read it,’ continued Miriam. ‘And I remember really enjoying the sexual tension, the shredded wedding dress and the night-time arson. This time, I suppose I read it from a different perspective: as a mother and as a wife.’ She paused. ‘I think that’s why Jane’s childhood had much more of an impact on me and I felt for little Adèle, who seemed rather disposable and incidental. Also, I thought more about Rochester’s relationship with Bertha; that was a marriage, they had history.’