Chapter 39
It was two days before the big Wolfe meeting, and she was watching the sun slowly set across the Thames through the shattered top of The Shard, eating takeout straight from a carton. It was yet another late night in the office, desperately trying to pull everything together in time. Her phone pinged. It was probably Tony, stressing about something or other, but not so much that he’d considered staying late to help. Ollie was also long gone. She knew better than to hope it might be Jasper. She’d heard nothing from him since the gala a week ago, and despite the crippling workload that threatened to exclude all else, their argument still glowed white hot in her mind. She’d wanted to text him, apologise for letting the stress of the situation get to her, and talk it through, but the contusions of shame left by Marcus’s touch prevented her from doing so.
She flipped the phone over. It was a diary reminder. Tasha’s scan. Damn it. In the general madness, she’d completely forgotten she was meant to be going with her tomorrow. There was no way she’d be able to; there was still so much to do. Tony had already given her a couple of talking-tos about her head not fully being in the zone. He had a point. She was listless and distracted. It was as if she was inside a goldfish bowl with everything slightly removed and distorted. The girls had been back for a while, and she still hadn’t seen them. She’d meant to do so a few nights ago, but she’d flaked out, the idea of overcoming her own social inertia too torturous. It was like she was dragging a kettlebell around with her.
The scan’s diary entry morphed into an accusatory finger pointing out of the screen. Her hopes of making time for the shelter were dead, and the ghost of them haunted her. The truth was, her enthusiastic ‘future self’ was now her apathetic present one, and she hated herself for her predictability. She messaged Tasha, a perfunctory text, no more than she needed to say. She was sorry, but she wasn’t able to go. She hoped she was okay. She’d come and see her when work had quietened down. There was still that possibility, wasn’t there? But then that would mean bumping into Jasper. Perhaps it was better to put the whole episode behind her. When she pressed send, she persuaded herself it was in Tasha’s best interests – she had work to do, people to impress, a promotion to get. And if she had more money, she could help more, couldn’t she?
She switched off her notifications and tucked her phone back into her bag; she didn’t need any further distractions this evening, least of all a confrontation with Tasha. She needn’t have bothered, though, because by the time she got home several hours later, the message had been read, but absolutely no reply had been forthcoming. Tasha clearly didn’t care either way.