Chapter 13 June
June
Tam dipped her roller into the postbox-red paint and then applied it to the wall.
‘Oh now that is superb. That is Bold,’ she said. ‘Well done, Anderson.’
‘I learned from the best,’ said Anna, giving her a wink.
‘I’m enjoying myself,’ said Tam, who hadn’t thought she’d ever be painting walls in shades like this again.
Harris would spontaneously combust if she suggested a variation on boring beige.
She’d work on him. After all, marriage was about accommodating and respecting the other person’s choices as well as your own.
‘How are you feeling about the wedding?’ asked Anna, applying her own roller to the opposite wall.
‘And please don’t apologise again for me not being able to go to the reception, it’s fine, I totally understand.
But no one is going to stop me coming to the church and seeing you in that gorgeous dress. ’
Tam was still annoyed that Anna wouldn’t be able to be squashed on to someone’s table, all because Davina had to be in control and refused to bend even an inch on anything once she had made her mind up. No wonder Harris’s father had ended up running away from her many years ago.
‘You must be getting really excited.’ Anna’s voice pulled her back from the rhythmic roll of the paint across the walls and she startled a little.
‘Yes, I am,’ replied Tam, but she wasn’t.
Maybe she might have been had she had some involvement in all the arrangements, because that’s surely where all the excitement was.
Maybe it would have meant more if she and Harris had eloped?
Said their vows to each other in front of two witnesses that they’d dragged in off the street?
It wasn’t just that, though, and she couldn’t say, not even to Anna.
It was Jack Cesaroni: he had put a spanner in the wedding works.
He was on her mind too much, she enjoyed being in his company too much.
Ever since the lift incident, she had begun to see him in a light she really didn’t want to see him in.
Work was where she was happiest, especially now Anna was on board and they met up almost every lunchtime.
She had only seen Natasha once recently – at her parents’ last Sunday lunch, but Natasha had her other friends anyway whom she seemed to prefer.
Tam wasn’t even sure if Natasha had noticed they got together less and less these days .
. . Regardless, Tam had no plans to introduce Anna to her. She didn’t think they’d get on.
YorkMart was thriving under Jack’s leadership.
Last week, he had gathered the whole company together into the main atrium for a briefing and given a rousing speech about how they had, for too long, been concentrating on putting on a showy front when it was the core that needed attention.
They were going back to the fundamental values that had been the basis of YorkMart’s success and every cog, every spring and wheel had a critical role, and Jack would make sure that every person who worked for him would be valued as such.
Jack really would have been a smash in a Roman Senate.
He was part Italian, maybe one of his ancestors had been there.
He’d even look good in a toga. And once or twice she had wondered what he would look like without a toga.
Private thoughts, not dangerous, just head junk, never said aloud.
Jack spoke to cleaners with as much warmth and respect as he conversed with managers, clerks, members of the public and press.
His charm was no veneer, it was bone-deep.
And he’d made good on his promises. Olek was running Finance and Sheila was heading up HR – though she’d been terrified she didn’t have the ability, she’d been doing it informally for too long.
The temperature had risen by degrees; Tam felt it every time she walked in through the front doors.
People seemed happier than they had done for a long time. It was like the glory days again.
When they had been out shopping one lunch hour, Anna had dragged her over to the MAC counter and bought her a Ruby Woo lipstick, and she wondered if she’d ever dare wear it again – at work, if not at home.
She had recently bought a shirt in Battenberg-icing bright yellow and Jack had commented on it, told her she had cheered up the office walking in like sunshine personified.
He really did know what to say to spin her brain.
The colour had seeped into her skin and enlivened her insides, giving her some energy of old.
She felt like the equivalent of YorkMart, slowly reconstituting, returning to where she should be.
But also it worried her because ever since the lift, she’d felt as if she had a big spoon inside her head, stirring her up.
Life was less complicated before Jack had said she was ‘exceptional’ and she’d had the affront to believe that she might be someone who was.
The word certainly fitted him, he was beyond exceptional.
He was smart without being superior, professional without being arrogant, kind without being patronising.
She was confused by her changed feelings for him and however much she tried to tell herself they were nothing more than respect for someone likeable and honourable, her bumpy heartbeat when she was in his presence said otherwise.
Anna rested her roller in the tray and said with a sincere and soft smile, ‘You know you can talk to me if you ever need to, don’t you?’
‘Of course.’ Tam pushed out her best brave smile. Even with the gap of all those years, Anna knew her, knew there was something amiss. ‘Wedding nerves,’ Tam said. ‘Our mothers want it to go without a hitch, so the pressure is on.’
‘Have you told them about the dress?’ Anna asked.
‘Nope,’ said Tam. ‘It will be a surprise – a statement, that the bride has some importance, some say in her own day.’
After all, it was just a dress. It wasn’t as if she was going to ring up the caterers and change the buuurrrfff to lamb or replace all the olivine bridesmaids’ dresses with fluorescent orange.
It was just a dress.