Chapter Thirty Jemma
Chapter Thirty JEMMA
We wait outside for the taxi in silence.
‘I don’t think I’ll be able to expense this actually,’ Clara says quietly after a few minutes. Harry throws an arm around her shoulders.
‘Don’t worry,’ he says softly. ‘I’ve got it.’
Salma and I move closer, wrapping our warm arms around a sad Clara too, so we’re in a tight huddle, heads touching.
‘It’ll be OK,’ I whisper to her, feeling protective. She tightens her grip on my arm, so I say it again: ‘It’ll be OK.’
A voice behind us interrupts the tender moment.
‘Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!’ We turn to see Mack, throwing up his hands in irritation. ‘I can’t get away from you lot!’
‘I thought you left,’ Salma says with a frown and he shakes his head.
‘I’ve been trying to. My tube line is down, so I came out here to grab a cab.’
‘Do you want to come get a commiseration takeaway with us?’ Harry offers amiably as I shoot him an annoyed look. We do not want this guy coming with us.
‘God no!’ Mack says, to my immense relief. Then he cocks his head. ‘Wait, why is it a commiseration takeaway?’
I look at Clara glumly and Salma grabs her hand for another squeeze. ‘Clara got sacked,’ I explain quietly.
‘And really – like really – told off by a scary pregnant lady with a silly plural name,’ Harry adds helpfully. Clara snorts, looking a bit cheered up.
‘Wait,’ Mack says slowly. ‘You’re not Milo Samuels’ publicist anymore?’
Clara sighs. ‘Nope. Not that I ever really was. It was only a one-time gig. I couldn’t even manage that.’
‘Right,’ he nods, ‘so are you interested in a trial period at the library or what?’
The four of us gape at him. Harry is the first to recover. ‘Huh?’
Mack sighs, irritated, but makes eye contact with Clara.
‘All that stuff you were saying about the library needing a revamp and more fun events, it makes sense. It’s something I’ve wanted to make happen since I started, but there were always other things going on; other stuff on my plate.
Anyway, my colleague Anita is just about to go on sabbatical—’
‘She is?’ I ask anxiously. I can’t believe she didn’t tell me! I don’t like change, she knows that.
He tuts at my interruption. ‘Yes. She’s spending some time travelling around Finland apparently. Totally bizarre if you ask me.’
I smile to myself. That makes sense actually. Finland is where Lapland is. I bet she’s heading over there to search for Santa Claus. Those Christmas jumpers she wears are just the tip of her obsessive festive iceberg.
Mack waves his hand. ‘Either way, it means there’s room in the budget to try out a new role. A sort of head of events, if you’re up for it?’
Clara gasps. ‘Are you serious?’
He rolls his eyes as Salma squeals. ‘This is amazing!’
I step forward. ‘She’ll take it,’ I say firmly.
My sister may not be into books, but she is incredibly charming, creative and great at corralling people and organizing joyful things.
This is what the library needs to inject a whole new energy and life into the space.
‘ Clara is exactly what the library needs.’
My sister gives me a gooey look, then screams and throws herself at Mack for a hug. He recoils with genuine horror and blushes deeply. It’s kind of endearing.
‘I’m going,’ he says shortly. ‘You can start on Monday. Two-week trial period. I’ll email you so we can talk terms.’ He leans closer. ‘The pension contribution is amazing .’
‘Thanks so much!’ she shouts after him as he run-walks away, towards the taxi rank. ‘I can’t believe that just happened,’ she murmurs as our car finally arrives. We start to pile in, everyone immensely cheered up, when a figure runs up to the door.
‘Guys, wait!’ It’s Milo Samuels and he’s breathless as he leans on the open car door. ‘I just wanted to say I’m sorry you got fired, Clara,’ he tells her genuinely, as we all stare at him, open-mouthed. ‘I think you were the best PR I’ve ever had.’
‘Really?’ she says, beaming at him.
‘Really.’ He smiles back, then frowns, fingering a bit of missing hair. ‘I mean, the gum thing was weird…’
Harry leans in and says, ‘It was my fault. Overly enthusiastic Heimlich,’ he explains, and Milo takes a second then nods.
‘Er, OK.’ He glances over at me, a strange look on his face. ‘Are you feeling better, Jemma?’
I nod. ‘I owe you another apology…’ I say, ‘… er, about throwing up on your shoes. Um, sorry. You can send me the cleaning bill.’
He bites his lip to stop from laughing. ‘You don’t owe me anything.
’ He’s looking at me intensely, his dark eyes boring into mine.
‘I think it was probably better than swallowing it.’ He raises his eyebrows and I feel my face flame.
I cannot wait for this awful day to be over, and yet, I like this moment right now.
‘I’d better go,’ Milo says after another, brief, moment.
‘I can’t risk Katies calling the police on us; she’s been quite close to it all evening. ’
He grins as we all say our goodbyes. Clara is glowing with happiness as we finally take off in our taxi. She babbles excitedly the whole way home about her plans for the library.
‘Everything’s worked out perfectly !’ she declares, bouncing in her seat and holding hands with Salma and Harry, either side of her.
‘This job is so right for me, I can’t tell you.
I’m totally going straight home to start researching authors who are on tour and how to set up local book clubs!
It’s going to be brilliant!’ she beams. ‘ And things aren’t completely ruined with Milo, right?
I can’t believe he came out to say bye! I think he actually likes me, don’t you think?
’ Harry lets go of her hand, looking out the window.
‘And you’ve got that radio interview booked in with him, right, Salma? ’
Salma nods her confirmation. ‘In a couple of weeks. To coincide with the final episode of the series. It’s the same day as your mum’s wedding actually, but it’s late afternoon. I can still make the vows and wedding lunch.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Clara says eagerly. ‘And then I’ll finally actually just give Milo my number. No more messing about. Everything’s going to come together exactly as it’s meant to.’
I smile, listening to her, feeling all warm inside.
Yes, I’ve had a disgusting twenty-four hours of being a drunken mess, followed by being a vomity mess.
I’ve humiliated myself on so many different levels – in front of a handsome TV star no less!
But I still feel happy. Because Clara is happy. I’m happy for her.
I’ve really misjudged her these last few months – these last twenty-eight years in fact. She’s well meaning. All the immature selfish stuff that bothered me so much seems dumb now.
I’ve not been fair on her. Not for a long time.
We climb out of the cab back at home, with Harry leaning across to pay, as we laugh about ordering yet another takeaway.
Oh. There’s a man on our doorstep.
‘Er, hello?’ I call out, interrupting Clara debating the nearby Thai place versus the local Chinese.
‘Hi,’ he replies, lifting a hand in greeting. Even from that one syllable I can make out an American accent.
Beside me, Clara freezes, dropping her gym bag on the pavement. ‘Careful!’ I scold, then catch her expression. She’s white as a ghost, staring at the man. Shit, is he a recent one night stand or something?
‘Clara—’ he begins, and at that one single word, she turns around, literally running away down the high street.
I stare after her, completely stunned.
What the hell just happened? I turn back to the American stranger, my face a question mark.
‘Who are you?’ I ask, and he takes a deep breath, shrugging.
‘I’m Clara’s husband,’ he says.