Chapter Seventeen
December 2014, London, England
The following evening. Molly sat in Mark’s living room, snuggled in her sweatshirt, watching TV. It was almost eight pm and Mark still wasn’t home. He had left for work almost twelve hours ago, after they’d eaten breakfast together. He’d promised he would be home by six pm. Spending the day in his luxury apartment on her own was no issue, but she wasn’t looking forward to spending the evening on her own.
She called him again, but there was no answer. Her stomach rumbling, she walked into the kitchen and rummaged in his sparsely populated fridge. The front door slammed shut, making her jump and she flew into the hallway.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Mark said, taking off his shoes, putting them neatly onto the rack in the hall. ‘I got caught up helping one of my colleagues fix a problem.’
‘It’s fine,’ she said, putting her arms around him. ‘I was just about to make myself a dinner of toast and fruit.’
He laughed. ‘We can do better than that. Do you want to go out or order takeaway?’
‘It’s too late to go out,’ she said. ‘Do you want to get a takeaway?’
‘Let me guess, Chinese?’ He smiled. ‘Predictable as ever.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘Let me get changed. Find one you like and get an order started.’
Predictable?she thought. If only he knew.
She sat back down on the sofa and pulled up a menu for the local Chinese takeaway and added Mark’s favourite things to her order first, before adding lemon chicken, and special fried rice, her own favourites.
Mark walked into the kitchen, pulling on a black T-shirt. He sat on the stool next to her and looked over her shoulder at her phone. ‘Sweet and sour pork balls? Who are they for?’
She turned around to face him. ‘You. You love them.’
‘Not anymore,’ he replied. ‘I’ll have a chicken chow mein and some crispy seaweed.’
‘Since when?’ she asked.
She tried to remember the last time they had ordered Chinese food. How had she got this wrong? Maybe she didn’t know him as well as she thought.
‘They’re way too fatty,’ he replied, running a hand over his smooth stomach. ‘My trainer has made some changes to my diet.’
‘Right,’ she said, wondering when he had got so worried about his appearance. ‘I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt once in a while.’
‘Probably not,’ he said, ‘but we can’t all eat cake every day, Molly.’
She bit her lip and continued scrolling through the app. ‘I don’t eat cake every day,’ she said, ‘but sometimes it’s nice to have a treat.’
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to worry about your figure. I do.’
You never used to, she thought, but refused to let herself entertain thoughts as to why he was so fixated on his body.
‘All done,’ she said. ‘Do you want to watch the rest of this film? It’s a delightfully trashy rom com.’
‘Mmm. My favourite,’ he said, rolling his eyes as she sat down next to her.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Well, if you had been here earlier, you could have chosen the film.’
‘I don’t think you understand how stressful my job is, Molly. I don’t get to just shut my laptop and decide I’m done,’ he said, his eyes darkening.
‘I appreciate that,’ she said softly. ‘It’s just difficult when you’ve asked me to come and stay and you aren’t here.’
‘I”m sorry. I should have let you know I would be late. I”m just not used to you being here. We”ll watch your trashy film, have some dinner, and then I’ll run us a bath.’ He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Sound good?’
‘I could get on board with that,’ she replied.
It was always such a rollercoaster with him. But as his lips met hers, she forgot about everything and sunk into his kiss.
***
Chris traced a pattern on the condensation on his pint glass. He’d been glad that Scott was at work when he’d got back from London last night. He hadn’t wanted to see him and explain what had happened at Molly’s office. After a restless night’s sleep and a chaotic day at work, he’d found himself at Mimosa, and desperate to talk to Scott.
Knowing Molly had a boyfriend was painful but meeting him had been something else. He’d disliked Mark instantly. His clothes, and his mannerisms all screamed insecurity. The aggressive tone of Mark’s voice had put him on edge and made him wonder if he spoke to Molly like that. Her face had been a mixture of embarrassment and regret as she’d walked away from him, her arm tucked firmly in Mark’s. Part of him had wanted to race after her, and tell her how he felt about her, plead with her to leave Mark and come with him, but they’d agreed that they were just friends, so he’d stuffed his feelings down inside him, and walked back to the station.
‘What’s up mate?’ Scott smiled at him from the other side of the counter.
‘Have you got a minute? I need to talk to you,’ Chris said. ‘I’m sorry to just turn up here, I know you’re working.’
‘Barely working,’ Jo shouted over Scott’s shoulder.
When Scott whipped his head around and glared at her, she laughed. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to butt in.’
‘Can I leave you and Matt here for a minute while I go on a break?’ Scott asked. He nodded to Chris.
‘Of course,’ Jo replied. ‘Take as long as you need.’ She smiled at Chris. ‘I hope you’re alright, my dude. I’ve never seen you looking that bummed before.’
Chris gave her a thin smile. ‘I’ve never been this bummed before.’
He followed Scott out of the back of the bar, to the tiny courtyard. ‘I met Molly’s boyfriend after work yesterday,’ he said.
‘Oof.’ Scott winced. ‘What was that like?’
‘Pretty awful. He’s so…’ He paused, searching for the right word.
‘Arrogant, conceited, unpleasant…’ Scott smiled. ‘Am I right? Those are just a few of the words that Saskia uses to describe him when she isn’t using expletives.’
‘Yeah, he’s all of those things. He looked at me like I was a piece of shit.’ He took a sip of his drink. ‘He turned to Molly and said, “what’s he doing here?” like I wasn’t stood there.’
Scott looked thoughtful. ‘Saskia seems to think he’s very into his image, and other people’s opinions of him. He’s probably jealous of you. Remember that he’s got more to lose than you have. Be prepared for some big romantic gesture. It feels like the train is back on the track, but now it’s going the wrong way.’
Chris laughed. ‘Uh, kind of, I mean she hasn’t done anything wrong. She told me that she wasn’t going to tell him what happened between us and that we would just be friends, and I agreed with that.’
‘Yes, but she has no idea that you actually have proper, real feelings for her, does she? And now she’s off with that douchebag.’
‘If he is the person she wants to be with, then I have to accept that. I just want what’s best for her,’ Chris replied.
He couldn’t help feeling like Molly wasn’t entirely happy with Mark. Her expression when she’d walked away with him had indicated otherwise.
***
Molly was sitting at the kitchen island, her fingers flying across the keyboard of her laptop, although it was almost six pm, and she should have finished working an hour ago. She was still trying desperately to distract herself from her thoughts. Last night she’d fallen asleep on Mark’s sofa after gorging herself on Chinese food. She couldn’t even remember watching the end of the film. When she woke up, in the middle of the night, Mark had gone to bed, leaving her alone in the dark living room. She’d tiptoed into his bedroom and climbed into bed next to him, but had been unable to sleep, the guilt weighing heavily on her.
In an attempt to impress Mark, she’d gone out at lunchtime and bought a new dress and heels to wear to his Christmas party, but now she had something else to feel guilty about. She’d opened his wardrobe to hang the dress up and spotted a ridiculously small, navy blue body con dress. He didn’t like her vintage dresses, she knew that much, but this dress was a million miles away from them, and something she would never wear. He’d either bought it for someone else, or she’d ruined his surprise for her, and she’d spent far too long debating which was more likely.
Glancing at her inbox, she spotted an email that she hadn’t responded to yet, and typed out a reply as she sang along to today’s playlist, a collection of her favourite Fall Out Boy songs.
‘Molly? What the hell?’ Mark appeared next to her.
She jumped and turned the music down. ‘When did you get in? I didn’t hear you.’
‘I wonder why,’ he said drily, flicking his eyes to her phone.
She glanced at the clock on her laptop. ‘You’re home early.’
‘As promised.’ He spun her around on the stool to face him. ‘What shall we do with all of this extra time?’
‘I...uh need to finish my emails,’ she said, clearing her throat.
She could tell by the way that he was stroking her face that he wanted her, but her head was still a mess. Maybe coming here was a mistake.
‘Right.’
If he was annoyed, he didn”t show it. He took off his tie and undid the top button of his shirt.
‘I”ll go and get changed. We have a table booked for seven somewhere in Butlers Wharf. Will you be finished by then?’ He leaned against the island, studying her.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I won”t be long.’
Why did dinner with him not seem as exciting as it used to? She bit her lip and gave him a broad smile. ‘I”ll be as quick as I can.’
He nodded and left the kitchen, and for once she was relieved that he didn”t talk about feelings. If he was upset or annoyed with her, he wouldn”t say, and that thought made her feel slightly happier.
She quickly replied to the last of her emails and put her laptop away. The uneasy feeling in her stomach was growing, but she ignored it, deciding that she needed to tell Mark what she’d seen in his wardrobe. She was carrying enough guilt as it was.
When he came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, she managed to avert her eyes from his toned body. ‘Mark?’
He turned to her as he opened the wardrobe. ‘Yes?’
She gestured to her dress, laid out on the bed. ‘I hung this in your wardrobe earlier, and I saw something in there.’
He blushed and flicked through the wardrobe, until his fingers closed around the dress. ‘Right,’ he said, nodding. ‘The dress, of course.’ He smiled at her and took it out of the wardrobe. ‘Do you like it?’
She took the hanger from him. ‘I do.’ She noticed the tag. It was a size too small. ‘I don’t know if it will fit.’
It was obviously expensive, and she didn’t want to rip it. How could he have forgotten her dress size?
‘Try it,’ he said, taking off his towel and putting his underwear on.
She breathed in deeply and slipped it over her head. It was tight, but she wriggled into it, then walked over to the mirror in the corner of Mark’s bedroom, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
‘Wow. That’s short.’ she pulled at the hem, which, unlike her calf skimming vintage dresses, stopped above her knee.
‘It suits you,’ he said as he buttoned up his shirt.
She turned around admiring herself from all angles in the mirror. ‘I like it.’
He nodded appreciatively. ‘So do I. Are you wearing it tonight?’
‘I’ll save it for tomorrow,’ she replied, doing another twirl in the mirror.
‘Of course,’ he said with a tight smile. ‘The Christmas party. That would be…great. Are you ready? We need to get going.’
She pulled the navy-blue dress off and slid on the green one she’d bought earlier. ‘Do you like this dress?’ she asked.
It was nothing like the one he’d picked out for her. It had a full skirt and scoop neckline.
‘It’s beautiful,’ he replied. ‘Let’s go. The taxi’s here.’
At Butler’s Wharf, Mark slid his arm through Molly’s and led her to a restaurant where they ate steak and chips, and drank cocktails, watching the lights twinkling on the river through the darkness.
‘How long are you going to stay in London?’ he asked, as he clasped her hands in his.
‘I’ll go home on Friday morning,’ she said. ‘Why? Have you had enough of me already?’
‘No, of course not,’ he replied. ‘I just thought you might as well stay until Saturday and then go to Saskia’s performance from here.’
‘That’s a really sweet offer,’ she said, ‘but I need to go home. I’ve got no food or clean clothes.’
‘That all sounds so boring,’ he said, grinning. ‘Stay and we can have some fun. I’ll wash your clothes.’ He smoothed his hand over hers.
‘Sometimes things are boring.’ She shrugged. ‘That”s life. It can”t always be exciting. Don”t you ever have to do laundry or cleaning?’ As the words came out of her mouth, she already knew the answers.
He shrugged. ‘It”s different when you work the hours I do. I take my suits to the dry cleaner, and Sheila keeps my flat clean.’
‘She does an excellent job. It”s spotless,’ she said, sipping her drink.
He smirked at her. ‘I guess you”re used to the chaos Saskia leaves in her wake. It must be tidier now she”s moved out. That living room makes me feel so claustrophobic, all the stuff everywhere.’ He laughed. ‘How do you feel about my place now you’ve stayed there for a few days?’
She thought about it for a minute. ‘I like it, but it doesn”t feel homely. You don”t get that welcoming feeling when you come in.’
His brow furrowed. ‘My apartment isn”t welcoming?’
‘It”s just very minimal, there”s no ornaments or books. You wouldn”t know that you lived there.’ She paused. ‘It”s only home when you”re there. When you”re not, I just feel like I”m in a hotel room.’
‘You have a point. I guess I’m so used to hotel rooms I haven’t even noticed.’ He gripped her hand in his. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you felt like that?’
‘It’s not my flat,’ she said. ‘You clearly like it that way, and I didn’t want to be rude.’
She thought about Mark’s scathing comments on her cluttered, chaotic house and wondered why she couldn’t just tell him what she thought.
‘You can tell me how you feel, Molly. You don’t have to hide things from me.’ He frowned. ‘I just don’t like lots of personal things lying around, it’s not my style.’
She nodded, but something was nagging at her. He did have some personal things. He had photos of his friends and family dotted around, but no photos of her or of them. That was what was annoying her. She took a sip of her tea, comforted by the knowledge that Mark would be oblivious to her inner turmoil.
‘If you have to go home on Friday, then tomorrow’s our last night together for a while. I’m off to Norway on Sunday,’ he said.
‘You could come to Saskia’s opening night with me?’ she asked hopefully.
‘Now that would be my worst nightmare,’ he said, laughing. ‘Pantomime is for children. There’s no way I’m going to one.’
She swallowed hard. ‘It’s a dream come true for Saskia.’
‘I know,’ he said. ‘Each to their own, right?’
‘Right,’ she said through gritted teeth. How could he say that? Saskia had spent her life waiting for this.
‘I don’t know if I’ll see you until Christmas,’ he said. ‘I’m away a lot. I’m glad you’re coming with me on Christmas Day.’
She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t his bodyguard and that he needed to be able to see his parents without having her there as a shield, or a referee, but she didn’t want to cause any drama.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘And you’ll come to Kent with me on Boxing Day?’
‘I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘Your dad’s a bit much, Molly. He just goes on and on about his writing, and sometimes it’s a bit boring. You’ll all be talking in French, and your sister just gets drunk and out of hand.’
She took a deep breath. ‘Wow. Thanks for that scathing review of my family.’
‘I’m not trying to be rude. I’m just being honest.’ He shrugged. ‘Why don’t we stay at my parents’ place on Christmas Day so we can have a drink? Saskia will be on the stage for most of Christmas anyway, won’t she? You can see them after Christmas.’
‘I need to see my family over Christmas,’ she replied, feeling angry.
‘We don’t need to discuss this now,’ he said. ‘We can sort it out later.’
She took a sip of her drink. He was trying to deflect, and she didn’t have the energy to argue.
‘Will you come to Ed’s wedding with me?’ he asked. ‘I got the invitation this week. It’s in February sometime, in some stately house in Surrey.’
‘Of course, I love weddings,’ she said, remembering Liz and Jacob’s wedding, where she had been a bridesmaid.
‘Even though so many of them end in divorce? It doesn’t always guarantee a lifetime of happiness, you know. It’s not like in the movies.’
She nodded. ‘I’m guessing your parents’ marriage might have given you that impression.’
‘She would be so much happier without him,’ he replied. ‘Marriage isn’t the be all and end all.’
‘Oh I know,’ she said. ‘I still think believe in it though.’
They’d had brief conversations about marriage over the years, but it had never gone further than that. She couldn’t imagine Mark proposing. Every time they talked about it, he told her that he was still focusing on his career and that was the end of the conversation. As they walked out of the restaurant, she felt a tightening feeling in her chest, a feeling of being out of control. Mark was blunt, to the point of being unkind, but at the same time, she couldn’t imagine walking away from him.
***
The following evening Molly was in Mark’s bedroom in her new dress. Her hair fell in neat curls that touched the top of her shoulders. She’d applied more make-up than she would usually wear, worried she wouldn’t fit in with Mark’s colleagues, who wore the most expensive clothes, scents, and jewellery.
At last year’s Christmas party, she’d felt so out of place, as Mark, who had only been in his job for a few months then, guided her around the room. The alcohol had flowed all night as they ate fancy, expensive food. She had no idea what tonight had in store but imagined it would be more of the same.
She stole a glance at Mark, his gym-honed figure accentuated by the cut of his Savile Row suit. His dark hair was newly cut, and he’d confessed to her that he”d started having his eyebrows threaded. He’d always made an effort with his appearance, and she felt that this was because deep down, he was insecure. He’d never admit it though.
‘It’s not far, but I booked us a taxi anyway,’ he said, bringing her out of her thoughts. ‘I wasn’t sure if you could walk in those heels.’
‘I can manage,’ she said.
He spun her around. ‘You’re so beautiful. That dress shows off your figure so much more than those vintage dresses you wear.’
She wanted to say that the reason she liked the vintage dresses was because they didn’t show so much skin, but she didn’t want to spoil the moment. She took Mark’s hand as he led her down the stairs to the taxi.
When they arrived at the bar, Molly’s eyes widened with delight. It looked stunning. Strings of large fairy lights covered the outdoor area of the bar which was filled with groups of people huddling under patio heaters, smoking, drinking, and laughing. She gripped Mark’s hand tightly as they walked in. At the bar, he ordered them rum punches, and they both gasped after taking a sip, the strong alcohol hitting them.
‘Wow. That’s good,’ he said, spluttering.
‘It’s strong. Don’t let me drink too many of these. I’ll either embarrass myself or you,’ she whispered, taking another large gulp, the rum burning her throat as she swallowed.
‘Please don’t,’ he said, sliding his arm around her waist. ‘Why don’t we go and say hello to some people? Here’s the guys from the office next door to mine. Molly, you remember Luke, Craig, and Ben.’
Molly shook hands with Mark’s colleagues, all immaculately groomed, all wearing expensive suits. In fact, the whole bar was an army of suits. She wondered how much money there was in the room that night. She knew Mark’s suits were well over ￡2,000 each.
Mark leant close to Molly and nodded to a grey-haired man in an expensive navy suit. ‘I’m just going to speak to my boss quickly, will you be alright here for a minute?’
‘Oh sure, that’s fine,’ she said, but as he walked away, she wondered why he hadn’t wanted to introduce her to his boss.
A hot, uneasy feeling spread through her body as she sipped her punch. This event was miles away from her world, but it was interesting to be a fly on the wall for a night. The men all wore expensive suits, and held noisy conversations, while the women, squeezed into tight dresses, their hair and faces tweaked to perfection, stood quietly talking. As she tried to listen to a conversation next to her, a woman with dark hair approached her. She was tall with bronzed, skin, and squeezed into a skintight deep purple dress.
‘Molly, isn’t it? I’m Beth. I work with Mark. I just started a few months ago.’
‘Hi, lovely to meet you,’ Molly replied, a little stunned by the Amazon in front of her.
‘And you. Is that a Delenner dress?’ Beth asked, running over her eyes over Molly.
‘Um yes, Mark bought it for me. I’m worried it’s a bit tight.’ Molly pulled at the clingy fabric.
Beth shook her head. ‘No, not at all. What a lucky girl you are. Such a thoughtful gift.’
Molly took another sip of her drink and wondered where Mark was. This girl was giving off such a strange vibe.
‘I hear you work in publishing.’ Beth said. ‘You must be very busy. How does that work with Mark being away so much?’
Molly shrugged. ‘We see each other when we can.’ She didn’t like the strange expression on Beth’s face, as if she were sizing Molly up.
‘You’re very trusting. I think a lot of women wouldn’t like a relationship like that,’ Beth said, before taking a sip of her drink.
‘We’ve been together for a while; we have our own friends and our own lives. We’re not in each other’s pockets all the time.’
Molly met Beth’s eyes and in them, she saw anger, resentment…no, jealousy. Did Beth have feelings for Mark? She flicked her eyes towards him, but he was still deep in conversation with his boss. Did he feel the same way?
Beth raised an eyebrow. ‘How refreshing.’
Mark pushed his way through the throng of suits, with a strange expression on his face.
‘Molly,’ he said, his jaw tight. ‘I see you’ve met Beth. She works in my team.’
‘I was just admiring Molly’s dress. What a special gift,’ Beth said to Mark. ‘She’s got just the right figure for it.’
Molly didn’t miss the panic on Mark’s face as his eyes flicked between her and Beth. He was so obvious. Had he kissed Beth? Had they slept together? Was he hiding from her just as much as she was hiding from him?
‘She has, hasn’t she?’ Mark took Molly’s hand. ‘They’re just about to serve dinner, we should go and find our seats.’ He nodded to Beth. ‘See you later.’
‘I’ll catch up with you later,’ Beth said to Mark, ignoring Molly. She walked to a group of women and joined in with their conversation.
Molly turned to Mark. ‘Well, that was odd.’ She laughed, then stopped as Mark’s brow furrowed into a frown.
‘What do you mean?’ he asked. ‘What did she say?’
‘Oh nothing, she just…I don’t know.’ She shrugged.
He seemed on edge, like he was hiding something. She turned around, feeling like she was being watched. Beth and her little gang were all staring at her. They all looked away quickly and returned to their conversation. Her palms started to sweat so she wiped them on her dress.
‘She was asking me lots of questions about our relationship.’
‘Right,’ he said, nodding. ‘Don’t know what that’s about.’ He took her hand. ‘Let’s go and sit down.’
Her gut instinct told her that there was more to this story, but this wasn’t the time or place to discuss it.
She sat next to him at a table made from upcycled scaffolding planks, where plates of jerk chicken and jollof rice were being served. When the ginger cake with rum ice cream arrived for dessert, she regretted her choice of clothing, her dress getting tighter with every mouthful. She remembered that Mark had bought the wrong size, sighed, and took a deep breath, then another forkful of cake.
After they’d eaten, they left the restaurant and went back into the bar where a DJ was playing.
Mark held out his hand to her, and led her onto the dancefloor, sliding his arms around her.
Her head was swimming from the strong cocktails and the room was packed, meaning that she was constantly bumping elbows and shoulders with everyone else. She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the fear rising in her stomach. She hadn’t had a nightmare since her spicy dream about Chris. The memories of being mugged were slowly fading, but moments like this, where she was packed too closely to other people, brought it back to her.
Her heart rate increased, and she closed her eyes, pressing her head into Mark’s shoulder, picturing a dark bedroom, and Chris’s strong arms wrapped around her. The thought of him comforted her. She liked the way he gripped her hand tightly, and that he never let her out of his sight.
‘Molly!’ Mark snapped. ‘Did you hear what I said?’
Molly’s eyes flew open. The room seemed louder, and the lights felt brighter, making her feel overwhelmed.
‘I’m sorry. I zoned out. Can we get some fresh air?’ she asked. ‘I feel a bit uncomfortable.’
Mark opened his mouth to respond, but a man in a dark grey suit walked over to them, clapping Mark on the back.
‘Richard, how are you?’ Mark asked. ‘This is Molly, my girlfriend.’
‘Molly, lovely to meet you,’ Richard replied.
Molly smiled. ‘Same.’ She focused on her breathing, and tried to grab Mark’s hand, but he slid away from her.
Richard turned to Mark. ‘Why don’t you come and join me for a drink?’
‘We’d love to,’ Mark replied, and turned away from Molly, towards the bar. ‘Excellent news about the Copenhagen deal, isn’t it?’ They disappeared into the crowd around the bar.
Molly looked for them, but in a sea of suits, they were hard to find. She bit back her tears and walked out of the bar, into the chilly air, rubbing her bare arms. The floating wispy clouds contrasted with the darkness and the stillness of the night calmed her. The strings of fairy lights dotted across the patio area twinkled brightly, making her smile. After a few more deep breaths, she walked back inside.