Chapter 32
32
‘So, what happened today?’ Rory asked as he lay back and patted to the point on his collarbone where she should nestle in. Fiona sank her head down against him. A pleasant warmth radiated through to her.
‘When you came home,’ he clarified. ‘You said you’d had one hell of a day. What happened?’
‘A lot,’ she answered.
‘Such as?’
‘Well, for starters, my husband heard about the speech I made at the conference.’
‘Shit.’ He sat up, dislodging her from her comfortable resting place. ‘The conference! That was the reason I came here. How did it go? You spoke, right?’
‘Oh, I spoke all right.’ She pushed him back down onto the bed. ‘And it went well. Well enough to ruffle a few feathers.’
‘That’s good.’
‘Not exactly.’ She shifted around a little to see him better. ‘My husband’s boss was there. I might have laid into him and companies like his a little too much.’
‘And I’m guessing your husband wasn’t too happy about that.’
‘That’s an understatement. He rang around all my remaining clients and got them to drop me.’
This time, she caught him before he could spring back up. ‘You’re kidding? You have to be kidding?’
‘Nope. Apparently, he felt that my speech was a personal vendetta against him and his girlfriend, so he decided to trash the one thing I had left going for me in my life.’
‘Honestly? And you were married to this guy?’
‘I still am,’ she said quietly. She could hear his heart thumping angrily in his chest.
‘Jeez.’
Tinkling wind chimes played somewhere outside.
‘I got a visit from some kids though,’ she said, her fingers moving in circles around his chest. ‘They need me to set up a launch party for their start up. A very lucrative launch party.’
‘That sounds good.’
‘It is. The only thing is, I have to somehow find a venue that can hold four hundred people, by next Wednesday. It will have to be able to adhere to my new ethically sustainable manifesto too.’
His hand caressed her cheek. ‘You’re going for a sustainable business?’
‘It would be easier if I could just forget it all and go back to how things were. But I can’t. So I have to.’
‘You know what?’ he said, raising her face to his and kissing her softly on the lips. ‘You sure know how to win a guy over.’
‘I was thinking,’ she said, watching Rory conjure up a feast from the random tins and packets gathering dust at the back of her cupboard. ‘If I found the right venue, would you do the catering for it?’
He stopped stirring and twisted around to her. ‘Are you serious?’ he asked.
‘Yes, completely.’
‘No,’ he said, firmly, and turned back to the hob.
She fixed them both a drink and carried his across to him, placing it on the countertop beside him.
‘Why not?’
‘You want me to list the reasons? It’s a terrible idea.’
She stepped back, sipping her drink and trying to work out what she’d missed.
‘It would be perfect. It would fit in with everything I’m trying to do.’
‘Have you ever worked with someone you’re in a relationship with before?’ he asked, stirring in some spices she didn’t even know she had.
‘No,’ she said, smiling. ‘So, we’re in a relationship?’
Sighing, he balanced the spoon on top of the pan and twisted around, taking hold of her by the hips.
‘Whatever we are to each other right now, do you really want to risk ruining it before it’s even started?’
‘Who said it would ruin it?’
‘Besides, if this thing is as big as you say, you really think you’re going to manage to get them on board with the idea of waste food?’
‘If I can persuade anyone, it would be these guys.’
‘Okay, then what if I couldn’t source enough food?’
‘You said you always get plenty.’
‘Yes, but that’s to run a café. You’re talking about four hundred covers, plus enough for The Dumpster Dive too. I couldn’t risk it. It’s too hit and miss.’
Disappointed, she slunk back to her seat. She could see his logic but that didn’t mean it wasn’t annoying.
‘Although,’ he said, switching off the hob and turning around. ‘I may have an idea for your venue.’
It was a peculiar feeling, kissing him goodbye at her front door. Part of her wanted him to stay the night, fill that side of the bed that had been cold and empty for so long. But she knew he had to go. She also needed some time by herself. Time and space to assimilate; there had been a lot going on. Besides, there was something she needed to do. Something she must see to without delay.
A phone call would have probably been the most mature way to deal with the problem, second only to going round and apologising face to face but, no matter how much she knew she owed her friend an apology, it didn’t make it any easier. After starting to dial and then chickening out at least half a dozen times, she took the coward’s way out.
Sorry. I messed up. I miss you.
Three dots appeared only to disappear again. The message had been read. She waited. Nothing.
Please forgive me.
Still no reply.
‘Goddammit, Holly,’ she muttered, glaring at her phone, willing it to beep. Five minutes later, she was still glaring.
After showering, drying her hair and setting up a work schedule for the next day, she still hadn’t received a reply.
This is stupid , she told herself, desperately nervous about ringing her best friend. But she was going to have to swallow her pride and make that call. Scrunching up her face, as if in agony, she opened the screen and pressed call. It couldn’t have been more than one ring away from going to voicemail when Holly finally picked up.
‘Yes?’
Her pulse soared. Part of her was expecting Holly not to answer at all – that they would eventually get back to messaging and the whole thing would be resolved that way. She was soon wishing she hadn’t.
‘You can slap me if you want to. I probably deserve it,’ she offered.
Her initial apology had been met with nothing more than a derisive snort.
‘Can’t say I disagree.’
Silence. There was no way Holly was going to let her get away with it without grovelling. Well, if that was what she wanted, that was what Fiona was going to have to do.
‘I messed up. I’m sorry. I’m so freaking sorry. I just got caught up in my own little bubble.’
‘You think?’
She ignored the sarcasm.
‘Look, with everything that was going on… with Joseph moving out, and Martha, and this thing with Stephen and Penny. I guess?—’
‘Wait, did you say Penny?’ Holly’s previous bitterness had suddenly evaporated. ‘Does that mean you’ve found out who she is?’
Fiona sniffed. ‘The secretary.’
‘Honestly? That man is a fucking cliché.’
‘Well if it helps, I got her sacked.’
‘You did what ?’
Fiona smiled to herself. They were getting back to their old selves. There was nothing like gossip to draw Holly in. Bit by bit, she could feel the barrier crumbling. Soon the silences became natural ones and, with each remark, a little more of the hurt and anger was whittled away and laughter replaced it.
‘So, lunch on Friday?’ Holly asked. ‘You up for that?’
‘I think we should make it every Friday, don’t you?’
‘You look good,’ Annabel commented when Fiona arrived at the office the next morning.
‘Thank you. I feel good too. I don’t suppose any of the possible venues have got back to us, have they?’
‘Not with anything useful.’
‘Okay, well, we’ll keep trying. If we don’t find anything by the end of the day, I’ve got one more avenue I can explore.’
‘We’ll find something. I’m sure of it.’
Although Fiona had pretended otherwise, she was more than a little hesitant to go along with Rory’s suggestion. It wasn’t that she didn’t think the place would be great; she was sure it would be. It was the idea of needing to rely on him for this make-or-break moment in her career. This had unpleasant echoes of what had happened with Stephen and she wasn’t going to take that route again in a hurry.
But by Thursday evening, she was struggling.
‘Look, we’ll just go and take a look at the place. If you don’t like it, don’t use it. But it’s crazy not to even consider somewhere that might be perfect. You never know.’
‘What is it called again?’ she asked.
‘The Camellia House. The restaurant opened up about a month ago, but it’s a great venue too. Lots of space.’
‘So, why isn’t it already booked?’
Rory slid a homemade burger onto her plate.
‘They had some issues with licensing. Fire regs and stuff. Don’t worry,’ he said, seeing the reaction on her face. ‘It’s all good now. They got the clearance to start holding events over the weekend.’
‘You know this how?’
‘Let’s just say I have people on the inside. We’ll go after the lunchtime rush tomorrow?’
‘All right then,’ she reluctantly agreed.
Getting Holly to approve her choice of The Dumpster Dive for lunch had been incredibly easy, given her penchant for trying to embarrass Fiona.
‘So, you and him, this is a thing now?’ she asked, eying Rory over the top of her kombucha.
Fiona did her best to act dumb. ‘He’s taking me to see a venue as soon as we’ve finished. That’s all.’
‘That is clearly not all.’
‘Well that’s all you’re getting here.’
‘I’ll be two minutes,’ Rory mouthed, as Fiona and Holly said their farewells.
‘No worries,’ she mouthed back as she gave her friend one more squeeze goodbye.
‘And I’ll see you over the weekend?’ she asked.
‘I’ll check my schedule.’ Holly smiled coyly. ‘I may have a free hour.’
Less than two minutes later, Rory appeared again and took her hand, ready to leave.
‘Don’t take this the wrong way,’ she said, half a mile down the street. ‘But you look nice. Have you brushed your hair or something?’
‘Maybe.’ He grinned in a way that made her stomach flutter.
‘You did that for me?’ she asked, reaching and tugging gently on his man bun.
‘Not exactly,’ he said.
A quick Internet search before she’d left the office had told her that The Camellia House was one of the trendiest new hangouts in West London, perfect to launch a tech company. It also told her that the restaurant was fully booked for the next month and a half although, when she mentioned this to Rory, he seemed somewhat dismissive.
‘Don’t worry. They know we’re coming,’ he said. ‘And besides, we’re not eating there.’
For the entire journey, her hand stayed in his, fingers entwined, quite unlike the way Stephen used to hold her hand. She felt his grip tighten when they crossed a road, or he manoeuvred them past people. And when he did let go, when rounding a lamppost and on the escalator in the Underground, her palmed tingled, waiting for the return of his warmth. She could get used to this, she thought.
‘I can never work out whether I like places like this,’ she said, when they stopped on the other side of the road to their destination.
‘Trust me, you’re going to love the inside.’
‘You think you know what I like already?’ she asked, a questioning grin on her face.
‘I’m getting there.’
The grey stone of the building was accompanied by grey, metal window frames. The drainpipes were oversized, giving the place an industrial feel. It was stark, modern for modern’s sake, in her opinion. Her first impression was that it would suit her young clients down to the ground.
‘We should get inside. They’ll be waiting for us.’
They crossed the road and he stepped forward to push the door open for her. Still holding his hand, she was part-way through when she ran head on into the person coming out.
‘Sorry, I—’ She stopped and did a double take. ‘Stephen!’
A layer of sweat formed between her hand and Rory’s which, reflexively, she held onto even tighter. A reassuring squeeze came back.
There were several ways this could go now, she realised. Several choices available to her.
‘After you,’ she said, looking her husband straight in the eye and stepping back onto the pavement.
His face was a picture: pinched, eyes narrowed on Rory with a look of confusion. Without waiting for a reply, she dropped Rory’s hand and reached across her husband.
‘And you must be Penny.’ She smiled at the young woman with the overly bronzed face. ‘I’ve heard so much about you. It’s great to finally meet you. I hope the job hunting’s going okay.’
The woman’s mouth opened and shut like a fish. ‘Oh, yes. Thank you. Well, we’ve met before, actually.’
‘We have?’
‘At last year’s Christmas party? You had the most amazing dress. The blue backless one.’
Fiona was agog at the pure innocence with which the girl spoke.
‘Ahh yes, the Michael Williamson. Well, I probably won’t wear it any more, so I’d be delighted to pass it on to you.’
‘Really?’
‘Of course. You’re fine with my cast offs, aren’t you?’
‘Oh well, only if you don’t mind.’
‘No, not in the slightest. Be careful, though. It’s a bit flimsy. I wouldn’t plan on getting too much use out of it, if I were you.’
She waited, lips pressed together in a perfect smile as her eyes fleetingly met Stephen’s. She would have liked some sort of reaction. Something reminiscent of the scene in her office. But he had too much sense for that.
‘I think Penny and I should be going,’ he said, glowering at her.
‘Yes.’ She stepped back even further and made room for them to pass. ‘And Penny, good luck with the job hunting again. I’m sure you’ll find something out there.’
She watched as Stephen pressed his hand against the small of Penny’s back and hurried her across the road. Only when they were safely out of sight did she fall back against Rory, trembling.
‘That was Stephen. My husband,’ she said.
‘Yeah, I got that,’ he said with a small smile. ‘You okay?’
‘Well, it could have gone worse, I suppose,’ she replied.
‘I thought you handled it beautifully.’
‘You did?’
‘Well, you were absolutely horrible.’
‘But funny, right?’
‘Oh, very funny. But evil. Utterly evil.’
‘I can live with that.’
Reopening the door, he once more held it for her to pass through, but she stayed where she was.
‘It’s not actually true,’ she said, her eyes on the patch of ground where her husband had stood only moments ago.
‘What’s not?’
‘About her taking my cast offs. I’m the cast off. I’m the one who was no longer wanted.’
A wave of sadness rippled through her.
‘Well, it’s a good job you’ve found a man who likes saving things from the rubbish pile then, isn’t it?’ he replied, and kissed her on the lips. ‘Cast offs are my specialty. Now, are you going to stand here all day and mope, or do you want to see this place?’