Chapter 59
To-do list
Book afternoon off for school sports day
Dig out summer workwear wardrobe to avoid repeat of cashmere jumper and boots hell on hottest day of the year
Buy sandals for Jacob
Get Leo to measure inside leg to avoid him looking like Victorian chimney sweep in stupidly short school trousers
Contact Philippa Perry on Twitter to say thanks and offer self up as case study
Book Chinese in the village to treat parents to Sunday dinner
Text Mum to reassure her chopsticks are not compulsory (though either way, Jacob will show her how to use them)
Buy litter for Alan
Fix mortgage rate
Descale kettle
Call Rose about career bombshell before she does anything hasty
I sit at my desk ploughing through emails, but I still can’t really get over what transpired during the course of last night. As well as the good news about her lung scan, Rose made another announcement: that she isn’t coming back to work in August. In fact, she isn’t coming back altogether.
The money they had set aside for a new extension will instead be used to fund her way through college. At 48 years old, my best friend is having a career change and plans to retrain as a teacher. She repeated something I’ve heard her say a few times since I’ve known her. That she felt so unbelievably lucky all those years ago when she got that trainee position at the BBC that she never actually stopped to question whether it was what she really wanted to do. She’s loved broadcasting and has had a tremendous career at Motionmax+. But teaching – at a secondary school or an FE college ideally – remains an itch that she has never scratched. So that’s exactly what she plans to do.
I take a sip of my tea and lower it to my desk. I click on my to-do list and cross out the last item. Then I return to my emails.
Hi Lisa,
As promised, I’m delighted to attach the completed sizzle reel for My Teenage Bombsite . Enjoy!
Jake
The short promotional video helps people understand our concept and gives them a taste of the main concepts, characters and locations audiences will expect to see, all set to the punchy music that’s been created specifically for the show. I click on the link, sit back and watch. It is less than a minute long, but that’s more than enough to make a smile spread across my face. I know you can never guarantee a hit, that in the past I’ve loved the odd show that’s bombed and hated others that have gone on to unfathomable success.
But I’m calling this now.
It’s going to be huge. I close the file, create a link and compose an email.
Subject: Some in-flight viewing
Russo,
Thought I’d share a little bit of pure gold with you before we send you on your way. Hope you like it as much as I do. Just realised I don’t think I ever said thanks for your steer on this, did I? Well: thank you. For this and a whole lot more that I will attempt to articulate tonight at your leaving drinks. In the meantime, I hope you’re enjoying your last day. Has Andrea been over with her X-rated novelty cupcakes yet?
Darling xxx
I hit send as another email comes through, from Martin O’Donoghue.
Hi Lisa,
Great to catch up on the phone yesterday. I ran the idea of the mid-size model show by a few people here and everyone loves it. Can we say Tuesday 15th at 11am for our meeting? We’ll host. Will it just be you coming at this stage?
M
Dear Martin,
That date is perfect – it’s in the diary. I’ll be bringing Daisy Fellowes, who came up with the concept. I think you’ll like her a lot. See you then.
Lisa
I hit send as a WhatsApp message lights up my phone, followed by another one, then another. Soon, the handset is almost jumping from the number of pings. I click on the PTA group chat. Denise Dandy, it seems, has spoken.
Dear all, I am writing to let you know that I have just informed the Principal, the school governors and other relevant staff that, when my current tenure as CEO of the PTA comes to an end this term, I will be stepping back from duties.
‘Oh, shit,’ I mutter.
It goes on to give a heartfelt and almost Trumpian address about how it has been a great honour to lead the PTA to ‘triumph after triumph’ during her time in charge. She lists her personal highlights, including introducing a Crochet-a-thon, a Pedicur-a-thon, a Car Wash afternoon AND ‘Roebury’s Got Talent’ (I’d be the first to admit that this was an unforgettable evening, thanks to Jeff’s duet with the Head of Chemistry). It goes on and on and on, before adding a final PS: that anybody interested in taking over the helm of the PTA should send an email to the governors by close of play next week.
The words ‘not if my life depended on it’ spring to mind.
I’m midway through joining the throngs of well-wishers with a nice message thanking Denise for her commitment and hard work when a different WhatsApp group lights up. The Roebury Besties. This message is from Jeff.
What do you reckon? Should I go for it and take the helm at the PTA?
Nora replies first. I’d vote for you. Though . . . is this all because you enjoyed being on that mike so much at the Wine Quiz?
Jeff doesn’t miss a beat. As a matter of fact, I thought it would be nice to do my civic duty. Still, any opportunities to take the stage are always welcome
For the rest of the day, I am hit by a variety of, let’s say, challenges. Locations that have fallen through, presenters that have dropped out at the last minute, health and safety certificates having expired several months before filming was due to start. It’s only as I’m approaching 5pm that I realise Zach still hasn’t responded to my email. I start to get an ominous feeling about this. In truth, I start to develop a theory as to why.
I haven’t explicitly said anything about our future, my concerns that this is never going to work long-term. But he knows. Of course he knows. Having flip-flopped back and forth between decisions, unable to imagine the word ‘goodbye’ actually coming out of my mouth, I have a horrible feeling he’s going to solve this problem for me.
I push open the door and spot Andrea by the bar, chatting up a guy I recognise as the presenter of a property show. Most of the people here are from Scheduling . . . including Rose, who has popped by briefly, after a meeting with Krishna about her future. I spot her chatting to a couple of her colleagues, most of whom she hasn’t seen since she went off for her treatment. She’s wearing a floaty dress, soft make-up and looks brighter than she did even 24 hours ago.
‘You look lovely.’
‘That’s what a good night’s sleep does for you,’ she says. ‘I haven’t had a decent one for ages, but after the relief last night, I even had a lie-in.’
‘Good for you. So, what did Krishna say?’
‘He was predictably lovely. Said all the right things and tried to persuade me to stay. But then said he understood and gave me his blessing to go.’
‘He’s far more understanding than me then,’ I smile.
She laughs. ‘Do you think this is bonkers?’
I shrug. ‘I can’t deny I was surprised, but actually . . . no, I don’t,’ I decide. ‘I think this is your stunning second act, Rose.’
‘Ooh, I like that,’ she grins. Then she nods to the other side of the bar, which is being propped up by Daisy and Calvin. Their heads are virtually pressed together, as Daisy twirls her straw coquettishly.
‘They look very cosy. Are they an item yet?’
I shake my head. ‘No. I think they really are just friends. They spend a lot of time gazing into each other’s eyes and talking about Antiques Roadshow , but that’s about it.’
‘Unfathomable. Come on,’ she says, nudging me. ‘We need to make this happen.’
We head over to find them deep in conversation.
‘It’s really plump and firm to the touch,’ Calvin is saying, as Daisy listens enraptured.
‘Has it got a strong upward curve?’
‘Very much so.’
They spring apart as we approach.
‘We were just talking about Calvin’s succulent. It’s magnificent,’ Daisy breathes, wide-eyed. ‘Look.’
He holds the phone to me and shows me a photo of a potted aloe vera.
‘Calvin and Daisy know a lot about plant care,’ I tell Rose.
‘You two have so much in common,’ she tells them, very unsubtly. ‘Tell me, have either of you ever watched the movie When Harry Met Sally ? It’s a sort of friends-to-lovers story. I’d really recommend it . . .’
I glance up as the doors open and see Krishna walk in, followed by Zach. The moment he sees me, his eyes light up.
I excuse myself and head over, as Zach breaks away to greet me.
‘Hey,’ he says, a smile dancing at his lips.
‘Hey yourself,’ I reply. ‘You are seriously honoured. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Krishna in the pub before.’
We’re amongst a crowd of colleagues but all I want to do is kiss him. Still, as he glances around the room, I register there’s a peculiar look on his face.
‘Everything all right?’ I ask.
‘Um . . . kinda,’ he says. ‘Have you got a minute in private?’
I feel a sliver of unease. ‘Sure.’
He nods towards the door. ‘Wanna step outside?’
We stroll along the canal as an orange sun is beginning to dip behind the office blocks. A band that was setting up in the piazza earlier is rehearsing a live performance. I don’t know what it is they’re playing but the music is mellow and earthy and the singer has a sort of soulful voice, reminiscent of Nat King Cole or Gregory Porter.
Zach turns to face me. There’s some hesitant emotion in his face that I can’t interpret. I’m already worried that he’s about to say the words I’m unprepared to hear. Even if it is the precise thing I’ve been thinking for days, if not weeks.
‘This is awkward,’ he begins. Tears prick in my eyes. ‘So, here’s the thing. I met up with Sara today. And she asked me a pretty big question. One that has a huge effect on her life, my life . . . and, most of all, Mila’s life.’
I feel as if the ligaments in my limbs are going to give way.
Is he telling me what I think he’s telling me?
Are they getting back together?
‘Her dad is not going to get better, so the priority now is simply making him comfortable, looking after him and giving him the best quality of life he can have for as long as possible. It’s going to be a lot for her mom to deal with on her own. Her brother is here, but that’s a lot of heavy lifting for one young guy.’
‘Of course.’
‘And, while we’re all trying not to think too far ahead, this whole experience has made her feel like she doesn’t want to be too far away from her mom as she gets older. So, she’s made a decision and that’s that she want to stay here with her parents. She doesn’t want to go back to the US. She wants to raise Mila here.’
I blink, taking this all in. ‘So where does that leave you?’
His jaw tenses before he answers. ‘It’s like I said, Lisa. I cannot be a continent away. I just can’t.’
The breath seems to be sucked out of me.
‘Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me?’
He can’t keep it in any more. ‘I’m staying.’
I actually gasp. ‘You’re not!’
He laughs. ‘I am!’
‘But what about your big promotion?’
‘The one I never asked for? Who cares?’
He grabs me round the waist and pulls me in towards him. Then he kisses me. It’s such a sweeping kiss that it makes me feel like I’m in a VE Day photo, heart soaring, limbs softening, the strength of his arms near holding me up. If anyone sees us, I can’t say I care. All that matters is the feel of him against me and the dreamy thought that this doesn’t have to end after all. When he finally releases me, we’re both smiling.
He takes me by the hand and we start to walk back to the bar.
‘So what about employment?’ I ask. ‘Rose isn’t coming back but that job doesn’t quite match the heady heights of “Global Head of Partnerships”.’
‘Krishna and I have been discussing it.’
I slide a glance at him. ‘Really? Does this mean I’ve got to carry on working with you?’
‘Maybe. I didn’t mention it, but I was also approached by Streamflix recently. They have an opening . . .’
‘Our biggest competitors? Are you serious? I’m going head-to-head with you – in direct competition?’
‘I haven’t decided yet,’ he grins. ‘But thought it could be fun.’ We are now almost back at the bar, which, judging by the view through the window, is even busier than when we left.
‘That’s your leaving party going on in there, Zach. Except now, you’re not actually leaving.’
‘Like I said. Awkward .’
I chuckle. ‘Come on. You need to face the music,’ I say, but he stops dead and pulls me back by the hand.
‘There’s something else I need to tell you. It’s been on the tip of my tongue for as long as I can remember.’
‘What is it?’
His eyes are shining with some inexpressible feeling. From the way they sweep over my face, I almost know what’s coming before he says it. ‘I love you, Lisa.’
I can suddenly hear my heart.
Never again. That was what I said, wasn’t it?
This wasn’t in the plan. It wasn’t part of the programme.
But then, none of it was. And if I’ve learned something recently, it’s that all any of us are doing is winging it.
I stand on my tiptoes to press my lips gently against his. Then I say a sentence that is so true and real that I just can’t argue with it any more, whether I like it or not.
‘I love you too.’
His face breaks into a luminous smile.
‘Come on, let’s go face the music.’
Just before we reach the bar, a notification appears on my phone and I pause. It’s my to-do list. A reminder to tick off all those I’ve managed to complete today.
‘One moment,’ I tell him, as I begin clicking. I check one item and the next, until even ‘descale kettle’ is highlighted.
Then I hit a single button.
Delete.
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