Chapter 34
Awhole family of bats had taken up residence in her stomach as she approached the shelter’s office on Monday morning. She’d spent the rest of the weekend replaying the circumstances of Saturday night over and over in her head. She’d half-expected Jasper to text her on Sunday to check that she was okay. When he hadn’t, she’d told herself that he might not have her number; just because she’d written it on the form didn’t mean he’d saved it to his phone. But having run the idea past the girls on a WhatsApp chat, they’d decided that was as unlikely as one of Hozan’s theories, of which she’d also apprised them. She needed to accept that, unlike her, he hadn’t spent the rest of the weekend picking over the details of their time together like a starving vulture over carrion.
She stopped at the door, took a deep breath, and went inside. Gayle was at her computer, staring intently at the screen, but when she saw Simone, she stood up and started applauding, beating out a slow and steady rhythm that made her large watch jangle. Simone glanced at Jasper in confusion, but he wasn’t giving anything away.
‘So, you did it,’ said Gayle.
‘What?’
Was she talking about her and Jasper? Was she about to get a massive bollocking?
‘Steve’s benefits came through.’
‘What?’
‘You should have received his advance this morning. A deal’s a deal.’
‘What deal?’
She sounded like an imbecile.
‘I said if you sorted his benefits, you could leave early.’
She’d forgotten all about that agreement.
‘Won’t my probation officer have something to say about that?’
‘I can deal with him.’
‘What about that filing I was going to start on?’
‘What? Did you mean your nails?’
Gayle looked to Jasper for recognition of the joke, but he was staring intently at Simone. All the other plans she’d had for the week ran through her head. After the disappointment of what didn’t happen, she’d channelled her energies into something more productive on Sunday. She’d spoken to Wei about coming in and doing a little pamper session for everyone – nothing major, just manicures and pedicures – but she’d found a news story about someone doing something similar, and it had provided a real boost to everyone. She’d ordered some salad seeds, compostable pots, and a small vinyl greenhouse for Tasha to help her get her little cottage garden going. She’d even considered cleaning Hozan’s car. But none of that was likely to happen now; she was going back to work.
‘Unless, for any reason, you wanted to stay on?’ said Gayle.
She looked at Jasper. Jasper looked at her. Gayle looked at both of them.
‘What the hell is up with you pair? Simone, you look like a cat took a shit in your Gucci handbag. Jasper, you look like, well, you look like you could have been the cat.’ She scrutinised their faces. ‘Have I missed something?’
Jasper stayed resolutely schtum.
‘No,’ she said, chin lifted, face hot. ‘You’ve not missed anything. Absolutely nothing of interest has happened. Nada. Nought. Zip. Zilch. Diddly squat. Toss all. On a scale of one to interesting, my weekend ranks as not very.’
‘Can’t say I’m not pleased to hear it,’ said Gayle. ‘Still, you’ll be back with your reputation management buddies, managing reputations like a reputation managing dynamo before you know it. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to have you back.’
‘I’m sure they will,’ she said, still glaring at Jasper. ‘And I’ll be absolutely thrilled to be back.’
She spent the morning aggressively deep cleaning the bathrooms, locking the door behind her so she wouldn’t be disturbed. At lunch, she intended to sneak out and get something stodgy and fattening to eat, but Tasha collared her before she got the chance.
‘Gayle says you’re leaving early.’
‘Seems like it.’
‘You pleased?’
She knew she should be, but a pang of melancholy tugged at her ribs. It was like the last day of a holiday, the anticipation of normality both a reason for contentment and disappointment. She still had this last day to enjoy, but the real world – her other one – was already encroaching, its fingertips tightening their grip.
‘I guess.’
‘I know this is going to sound weird,’ said Tasha, ‘and you can say no, but I wondered if you’d come to my next scan with me?’
‘Umm.’
‘I’m not asking you to be her godmother or anything. I don’t want anything from you. I guess it was just nice to have someone there the last time. I asked Hozan, but he said ultrasound waves cause Havana Syndrome, and something about health attacks by Russia. You know what he’s like.’
She smiled for the first time that day. Yep. She knew. ‘When is it?’
‘Not for a few weeks. I can give you some petrol money. Maybe.’
‘I don’t need you to give me petrol money.’
‘Is that because you won’t come with me?’
She recalled how Tasha had been treated at the maternity hospital last time. It was a very small thing to ask. ‘No, it’s because I’ll come with you anyway. And we can take the tube.’
‘Okay. Cool.’
‘Cool.’
‘Also,’ said Tasha, ‘we thought we’d have a little picnic for you this afternoon. It won’t be much. Steve’s made some cupcakes. They are awful, so don’t eat any. Hozan is bringing his biscuit tin, and I’m making a quiche.’
‘Well, if you’re making a quiche, how can I say no?’
She was touched. Perhaps they did this for everyone, but even so, it demonstrated a generosity of spirit she continued to be surprised by. She wished there was something else she could offer them, something that might have a lasting impact on their lives.
‘See you outside at three-ish?’ asked Tasha.
She nodded. She’d have to forego her big lunch, but she could eat all her feelings back at her desk tomorrow. Why wasn’t she finding the notion particularly appetising?
* * *
By the time she joined the three of them on a picnic blanket outside, she’d settled on the best possible way to spend the remaining couple of hours of her community service.
‘Do not tell Gayle,’ she said, ‘but I’m going to teach you all how to beg. Efficiently. So you can make the money you need to move on when you’re ready to.’
‘But begging’s illegal,’ said Tasha.
‘I know. But it’s also criminal how difficult it is to get the help you deserve, so, you know, needs must. And if you do what I tell you, no one will really know.’
Hozan smiled. ‘Are we going to play them at their own game?’
She nodded. Kind of, she guessed. She’d spent her lunch hour doing some internet research. There were a surprising number of studies conducted on how best to solicit money from people. Context was everything. People were more generous when exposed to pleasant smells, so it stood to reason that a pitch outside a bakery or launderette would boost donations. Wearing a tie increased the likelihood of people giving you money, so Steve should wear his suit.
‘Have you still got it?’ she asked.
‘Yep.’
Being very specific about the amount of money needed gave the impression it had a non-nefarious use and thus increased consideration. Creating a sign that referenced the good fortune of the potential donor, not the bad fortune of the receiver, boosted empathy and giving. And reciprocity, particularly offering something intriguing or interesting in exchange for cash, could overcome reluctance to give.
‘Steve, when were you born?’
He gave the date and then began describing the exact circumstances of his birth.
‘Not now,’ she said. ‘Hozan, what day was that?’
They watched as Hozan quickly counted something on his fingers.
‘Tuesday.’
She checked the answer on her phone. He was right. Steve whistled.
‘And what was at number one in the charts that week?’
Hozan rattled off an answer. Again, he was correct.
‘I think with Tasha acting as a sidekick, you have a regular old sideshow there. Invite people to bet a few pounds on whether you’ll get it right or not.’
‘But Hozan won’t want to draw attention to himself,’ said Tasha.
Hozan noted the hand Tasha was resting on her belly. ‘If it helps Tasha, I’ll try it.’
‘You don’t need to.’
He looked sternly at her. ‘I’ll try it.’
‘I think you could also be doing an excellent sideline in pub quizzes. But let’s start small.’
She helped herself to a large slice of quiche – Tasha really was an amazing cook – and watched as the idea took on life. Tasha suggested they could run a mini workshop with some of the other day visitors on the quiet, since they too could benefit from this information. Steve was getting misty-eyed about seeing his son again. She wondered if she should stay to the end of the week and see what other proactive ideas she might come up with, but then the chattering stopped. Jasper was standing over them, eyebrows raised.
‘Good afternoon, Jasper,’ said Hozan.
‘When were you going to tell me there was quiche?’ He was wearing the third T-shirt from the selection he’d offered her.
‘And cakes,’ said Steve.
‘I heard about the cakes.’
Steve nodded. ‘Yeah, the kitchen never was my strong suit. There was this one time?—’
Jasper cleared his throat. ‘I wondered if I might borrow Simone for a few minutes.’
‘Actually,’ she said, ‘we were just?—’
‘Yep,’ Tasha butted in. ‘You can take her.’
‘All yours,’ said Steve.
Her eyes widened in remonstration. They gazed innocently back. She stood up and let Jasper lead her away until they were out of earshot.
‘A little picnic, eh?’ he said. ‘You’ve really made an impression. Nice one.’
‘Are you patronising me?’
‘Why do you always assume I’m patronising you?’
‘Because you’re a very patronising person.’
‘Or perhaps it’s because you think it’s too far beyond the realm of possibility that you could have done something praiseworthy?’
‘Just wanted to squeeze in a bit of last-minute psychoanalysis?’
‘No. I came to say goodbye.’
‘Oh.’
The word escaped her mouth involuntarily, like a gasp. She’d expected to see him later, hoped that they might still discuss Saturday’s turn of events. Perhaps she’d harboured the teeniest fantasy that he’d ask her to go for a drink later, she would accept, and maybe they would…
‘I’ve got an appointment,’ he said, ‘but I thought it would be courteous to come and say thanks for all your help. You should be proud of yourself.’
‘You really are upping the condescension stakes. Maybe you should give me a pat on the head whilst you’re at it?’
She was being a bitch.
‘I imagined you’d be happier you were going.’
‘Sure, I’m happy. I’m ecstatic. I’m over the fucking moon.’
‘You don’t appear very happy.’
She glared at him through sullen eyes.
‘What’s wrong?’
Great. Now he’d asked her outright. Why did he have to be such a grown-up, ffs. Psychologists, man. They were all so … probing. And up front. And insightful. And sexy. Really bloody sexy.
‘Uggghhhhh!’
It was a guttural cry, something from the recesses of her soul. And what was she meant to say? That she was deeply disappointed that he hadn’t taken advantage of her. That it was as though some inalienable law of the universe had been violated – a rupture in the sex-time continuum. That somehow, in the last two and a half weeks, her opinion of herself had become inextricably intertwined with his opinion of her. And his failure to want to fornicate with her had come as both a refreshing revelation and an undermining of everything she valued about herself. Not only would she come across like a petulant idiot, but worse, she would give away the fact that his physical ambivalence towards her mattered. Like really mattered. There was absolutely no way she would ever give him the satisfaction by asking him. No bloody way.
‘Why didn’t you try and sleep with me?’ she said.
He seemed genuinely taken aback. ‘When? On Saturday?’
‘Yes, of course on Saturday. Why didn’t you try it on?’
‘I’m just not that kind of guy.’
She threw up her hands. ‘Come on! Every guy is that kind of guy.’
‘I like you. I really do. But … I…’ His face took on a pained expression. ‘Not like that.’
Wow. There it was. Verbal proof, like she needed it. They hadn’t been playing some will-they-won’t-they game to ramp up the tension. He really didn’t fancy her. And why would he? Why would someone like Jasper like someone like her? Sure, he said he liked her, but find someone on the planet Jasper didn’t like. If a shark bit his leg off, he’d find a way to warm to it. Something about nature versus nurture, delivered in his easy, agreeable, nonjudgmental way. But he didn’t fancy her. Didn’t think of her like that. Which would be fine had it not been for the fact that she’d made it quite clear that it was precisely like that that she liked him.
‘Gee, thanks.’ Any notion of staying for the rest of the week quickly evaporated.
‘No, what I mean is?—’
She cut across him. ‘It’s fine. You don’t need to explain. You’re some morally superior specimen that isn’t led by his dick. It’s fine. Really, it’s fine.’
‘I don’t think you think it’s fine.’
He had that stupid concerned look on his face again.
‘Don’t tell me what I think, Jasper. That would make you like all the others. And you’re…’ She trailed off. She didn’t need to blow any more smoke up his arse.
‘I just meant?—’
‘I need to go to the toilet.’ She walked towards the building.
‘Hey!’ he called after her.
She didn’t stop.
‘Simone!’
She upped the pace, but he caught up with her. She was reminded of the very first day that she’d met him.
‘Would it be so terrible to just be friends?’ he said.
‘Oh my god. You’re giving me the friend chat?! I don’t need any more friends.’
They both knew this to be a lie.
‘I really do have to go to the toilet.’
‘I’m not stopping you.’
Only he was. There was some unseen pull about him. A gravitational field that with each orbit, each bants-filled interaction, had drawn her closer and closer into its rarefied atmosphere. He stepped aside, moving the celestial body that would remain unexplored out of her way.
He reached out as she passed him, his fingers lightly brushing against her arm. ‘I’m here whenever you need me.’
Why did she feel like she was going to cry? She definitely didn’t want to cry.
‘Don’t forget about us, okay,’ he said.
Fuck. Her upper nostrils were tingling and everything. Time to rally.
‘How could I? I’ve got the scar tissue to remind me. See?’ She held up her fist to show him the still-angry patch of scalded skin, and then slowly and deliberately mimed cranking up her middle finger.
He smiled. Christ, that bloody smile.
‘I hope to see you around.’
‘Not if I see you first,’ she said, which made no sense whatsoever.
On the toilet she texted Tony to let him know she’d be back early. He was thrilled, even if she wasn’t. The client on whom she’d done the cursory research during Toiletgate – the Wolfe bloke – had invited them to pitch for a full corporate PR and events job promoting a series of new developments he had in the offing. He was creating apartments with hybrid office spaces beneath them. Apparently, it was going to be big. As in, clear the decks, this is all you’re going to be thinking about for weeks big. Which was just what she needed to put the last couple of confusing weeks behind her.
On the way back past the seemingly empty office, a voice rang out.
‘Oi, Duchess, come in here a second!’
Gayle was on the floor doing press-ups. She jumped to her feet. ‘You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?’
‘Yes.’
Gayle laughed. ‘You’re not such a bad sort, you know.’
‘That means so much coming from charity’s answer to Charles Bronson.’
‘I hope you’re taking something away with you.’
‘Yeah. Scabies.’
Gayle chuckled. ‘You made a difference. It all makes a difference, you know.’
She appreciated this moment of relative softness from Gayle, but she wasn’t convinced.
‘Being alive,’ said Gayle, ‘none of it’s easy.’
Had she been talking to Jasper? But no, surely doctor–patient confidentiality was a thing, even when you weren’t officially a patient.
‘Go easy on yourself,’ said Gayle.
‘Never. I’ve still not forgiven myself for a lacklustre dream I had back in the noughties.’
‘Well then, at least go easy on others.’
Hmm. Even her childhood imaginary friends had complexes, given how she’d held them to account.
Gayle held her arms out. ‘Bring it in.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Come on.’
‘Honestly—’
‘You know you want to.’
‘Really, I’m?—’
Gayle ignored her entreaties and enveloped her in a massive all-encompassing bear hug. When she finally let go, she flexed her bicep. ‘Sure you don’t want a last little feel?’
‘Okay, fine.’
She tentatively reached out a hand towards the bulging flesh. As soon as her fingers made contact, Gayle shouted boo really loudly into her face.
* * *
Back outside, Hozan, Steve and Tasha got up to greet her.
‘Time for me to get off.’ Her voice wobbled.
Hozan shook her by the hand. ‘Remember what I said. Don’t make it easy for them.’
‘I’ll be careful.’
Next was Steve, with his comedy haircut and daft tracksuit.
‘Thanks for sorting my money out, mate.’
‘If I hear you’ve spent a penny of it on betting, I’m going to get Gayle to remove your thigh bone and then I’m going to beat you to a bloody pulp with it.’
‘I won’t let you down.’
‘Kids need their dad, Steve.’
‘I know.’
She turned to Tasha. ‘And as for you, young lady. I’ll be seeing you soon anyway, right?’
‘That’s the plan.’
She had the urge to reach out and touch her belly. That poor kid, inside that poor kid, like shitty-life Russian dolls. Should she give her a hug? Tasha didn’t strike her as the hugging kind. Better not to invade her personal space.
‘Are you going to be okay?’ said Tasha.
Surely she should have been asking the girl that, but Tasha was observing her in that characteristic way of hers.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, waving a dismissive hand.
She would be. She’d be fine. She just didn’t feel it right now.