Chapter 23
Nell jogged down five flights of stairs to keep up with Mattie, who was clearly frantic to get out of the bookstore.
She’d noticed how tightly Mattie’s face was drawn, her skin taut over pale cheekbones, and how her body tensed each time she breathed too shallowly.
She’d witnessed similar signs in colleagues suffering with varying degrees of traumatic stress.
“Watch your step,” she urged, when Mattie stumbled.
But Mattie didn’t acknowledge her warning and continued to plough down the stairs at a rapid rate.
Nell focused on her own footing. She couldn’t support Mattie if she got hurt herself.
And Mattie clearly needed supporting. What’d happened to Shona and Lisa, the friends who were supposed to be here with her?
Everybody at the party seemed to have been taken in by Mattie as she chatted, and engaged, and laughed.
How had they not seen it was all an act?
Mattie knocked into a man as he perused one of the book tables, but she seemed oblivious.
“Sorry,” Nell said. The man glared at her and appeared set to say something in response, but she needed to keep tabs on Mattie as she speed-walked across the store’s ground floor, between tables of books and people milling around them.
She managed to glimpse the top of Mattie’s head as she hurtled through the revolving door and onto the street.
Nell rushed to the exit, and then realised the store’s security guard was assessing her.
Fair enough. She’d be suspicious if she’d seen two women running out of a shop.
She slowed her pace and approached him. “My friend’s not a thief.
She’s having an anxiety attack.” Her stomach churned with worry. She needed to find Mattie.
The invasive sounds and smells of the city hit her as she pushed her way out of the store. She let out a whoosh of breath when she spotted Mattie about ten metres away, leaning against a store window. Her head was tilted skywards, and her hands covered her face. “There you are.”
Mattie dropped her hands and folded them across her chest. She didn’t look at Nell. “Sorry. Had to get out of there.”
“Needed fresh air?”
Mattie nodded, just as a white van trailed past in a fog of exhaust fumes.
“There’s fresh air and there’s that,” Nell said. Her distraction worked, because Mattie managed a thin smile. A bus passed by and leaned on its horn. Mattie jolted at the sudden noise, and Nell rubbed her shoulder soothingly. “We can stay here and do this for as long as you need.”
Discreetly, Nell checked the time. It was gone eight.
The plan had been for her to meet Mattie and her friends at La Trattoria near Piccadilly Circus at 7:45p.m., but the afternoon conference session had finished early, so she’d taken the opportunity to wander through Covent Garden and Chinatown on her way to the restaurant.
She’d seen the stack of Jon’s books in the window, and curiosity sparked.
She hadn’t been able to resist a sneaky peek at the launch party.
Heat flared deep inside her as her eyes feasted on Mattie, as gregarious, and stylish, and on-point as the rest of the media crowd.
Mattie held court, people obviously eager to talk to her, and she tilted her head to the right in that gesture of hers as she listened and nodded.
I want you. Did Mattie still want her like that?
It was hard to be sure. Did an invitation to dinner which included Mattie’s two closest friends make it a not-date?
Neither Nell nor Angie had come to a conclusion when they’d discussed it over coffee last weekend.
Aware that spying on Mattie was bordering on stalking, Nell had been about to leave when she’d caught a look flash across Mattie’s face.
Nell had seen it once before, when Mattie came around after fainting at Cove House: fear and panic.
Her suspicion had been confirmed when Mattie had glanced her way, and their gazes locked.
Two things had been abundantly clear: one, Mattie was faking it, and two, she was very close to tumbling over the edge of an emotional abyss.
“Mattie?”
Nell looked in the direction of the voice and saw a woman of a similar age to Mattie jogging up to them.
“Shit, are you okay?”
Mattie managed a half-smile. “Shona.”
“I tried to get here as quickly as I could. Bloody trains.”
Shona was a little breathless herself, but clearly for different reasons from Mattie. She suddenly seemed to become aware of Nell, because she looked at her with a quizzical expression, so Nell introduced herself.
Shona smiled. “Sorry, I should have recognised you. I had you down as a good Samaritan from the bookstore.”
Nell saw Shona’s fingers surreptitiously measuring Mattie’s pulse. Was she a doctor?
“Too much drink?” Shona addressed her question to Nell.
Nell shook her head. “Too much stress.”
Mattie groaned. “I’m not a child, and I’m able to answer for myself.” She looked around. “Where’s Lisa?”
“She went straight to La Trattoria so we didn’t lose the table.” Shona frowned. “Your pulse is crazy.”
Mattie snatched her wrist away. “Can we go to the restaurant? I don’t want people seeing me like this.”
Shona’s eyes narrowed. “I’m inclined to hail a black cab to take you home.”
Mattie shook her head. “Not home. Restaurant. Walking.”
“Little Miss Stubborn is alive and kicking, I see,” said Shona.
“Mattie was like this after she fainted in Devon,” said Nell.
“I bet she said something along the lines of no hospitals and repeated, ‘I’m fine’ a dozen times,” Shona said.
Nell laughed and nodded.
“No ganging up on me.” Mattie pushed herself off the wall and wobbled. She glared at them. “I’m absolutely fine.”
“Absolutely,” said Shona, not bothering to keep a straight face.
Nell returned Shona’s grin as they each took one of Mattie’s arms and set off for the restaurant.
With each slow and sure step, her worry at Mattie’s state lessened, especially seeing how she took Shona’s advice on board, even though it did come with a side order of flippancy.
Nell pursed her lips as her overthinking brain sprang into action.
Had Mattie only leaned on her like the world depended on it because Shona wasn’t there?
She’d made do with Nell? This was why she stayed away from emotional attachment. It was too hard to decipher.
Warm air, soft piano music, and the smell of roasted garlic filled Nell’s senses as they entered La Trattoria. The waiter led them to a table by the window where a woman—Lisa, presumably—was already sitting.
“Bloody hell, Mattie, what happened to you?” she asked.
“You’re using your playground voice, babe,” Shona said, as diners seated around them looked up at the commotion. She pulled out a chair for Mattie. “Sit down before you fall down.”
Mattie sat. Nell loitered, unsure where to sit or what to do.
The other woman held her hand out to Nell, and a jumble of silver bracelets slid down her arm. “I’m Lisa.”
Nell smiled as she shook hands. Lisa was approximately 5’4”, with no distinguishing facial marks and four hooped earrings in her left ear.
She had blond hair, wore black jeans, a white shirt with a pin-striped waistcoat, and scuffed Doc Martens.
Nell groaned inwardly. Okay, clearly she was nervous, because her brain had clicked into its default behaviour of making a mental inventory of her dinner companions.
It was her brain’s equivalent of fidgeting.
Shona sat next to Lisa, leaving Nell the seat next to Mattie.
The waiter handed out menus and the wine list. Nell opened the menu.
Could she stomach food? Mattie was her only point of reference with these women.
She was hopeless at small talk unless she was in her professional guise, and this wasn’t one of those occasions.
She was here as Mattie’s friend, or maybe her occasional lover.
The lack of clarity added to her jangling nerves.
Discreetly, she studied Mattie. At least her face had lost some of its ghostly pallor, and her breathing appeared steadier, but she was uncharacteristically quiet.
Shona held out the drinks list. “Nell, would you like to share a bottle of wine? The Barolo is very good. Unless you’d prefer white?”
“I prefer red, but I’ll have to stick to the one glass,” said Nell.
“Busy day at your conference tomorrow?” asked Shona.
Nell appreciated Shona’s attempt to draw her into the conversation. “I’ve got a three-hour seminar starting at nine.” She remembered seeing Shona taking Mattie’s pulse. “You work in the medical profession?”
“I’m a consultant rheumatologist.” Shona grimaced. “I have the joys of my weekly departmental meeting to look forward to tomorrow, where we’ll be asked to do double the workload on half the budget.”
“You’re such a pessimist, Shona,” said Lisa, her voice lacking bite.
Shona scoffed. “Realist, more like.”
“Whereas I’ll be teaching the rise of fascism in Europe in the 1930s to a group of hormonal teenagers.
” Lisa rolled her eyes. “Two will be half asleep on arrival, another two will gaze adoringly at each other rather than me, one will be upfront about not having done homework, and a further three will make excuses that get more outrageous by the week.”
Shona nudged Lisa’s shoulder. “Spoken like a true optimist.”
“Shut up,” Lisa said and kissed her wife’s cheek.
She gave the impression of being comfortable in her skin, and Nell couldn’t help being envious. They agreed on just one bottle of Barolo between them and placed their food orders.
Mattie gave a wry smile. “Sorry about the drama-queen act back there.” Her voice cracked, and she gulped a mouthful of water.
Shona winked at her. “We’re well used to it.”
“Ha ha.” Mattie stuck her tongue out.
“So rude.” Lisa shook her head. “You’ll get used to it, Nell.”
Nell smiled. “You’re the peacekeeper, I’m guessing.”