Chapter 23
So from then on we circled each other like two lionesses primed to attack, our claws barely concealed and ready to roar. We didn’t speak unless absolutely necessary; we communicated more with overt hand gestures and looks of withering contempt.
I did a few childish things too that I wasn’t exactly proud of, in my quest to feel more in control. Not particularly mature for a woman of my age, but hell, I was only human.
Firstly, I kept moving her stapler around the office to make her think she was going mad. Then I fiddled with the mechanism on the back of her swivel chair so that it ungracefully tipped her out in the middle of an important phone call, and she hit the carpet tiles at speed. I enjoyed that one, even though I felt a slight pang of guilt when she broke the frame of her designer glasses. That said, it was highly amusing to see her walking around the office for the remainder of the day with them held together with botched up Sellotape. Not quite in keeping with the glamour puss look she tried to cultivate. Much more geek than chic.
I even considered substituting her almond milk in its ridiculous carton with cow’s milk again and removing all the toilet paper from the Ladies’ loo. But even for me, that was a step too far.
If I hadn’t been so angry, I would have laughed at just how ridiculous it all was. I had never imagined in my wildest dreams, and let’s be fair I now knew my dreams were anything but wild, that Seb would be so much in demand as to have two women vying for his attention.
I didn’t see much of Seb at all in the weeks that followed. Jocasta made damn sure of that. She was always by his side as if, like her glasses, they were taped together.
And if she wasn’t physically with him, she was off fetching him coffee or laughing on the phone at his lame-ass jokes.
And when she wasn’t giving Seb her undivided attention, she was with Fluck. She was spending an inordinate amount of time in the boss’s office, assisting him with something or other. The door was shut firmly as they discussed “business”.
I was beginning to feel the icy fingers of fear creep up my spine. My jangling nerves were getting the better of me. What on earth could they be discussing at such length? I had the distinct feeling in the pit of my stomach that the knives were well and truly out for me. I knew I was still not in favour with Fluck, but did Jocasta actually have enough sway with him to make things precarious for me at work? I wouldn’t have thought so.
But then again, she seemed able to wrap men around her little finger with such ease. One simpering glance and a dropped paperclip that she would have to shimmy down to retrieve, like a pole dancer grabbing a dollar bill between their ass cheeks, seemed more than enough to have men eating out of her hands.
There was nothing for it: I just had to get on with things as best I could.
I still wasn’t dating; it had just lost all its appeal, and now, like cheesy chips, I just couldn’t stomach it. Pointless dates with even more pointless men weren’t going to make me feel any better about my situation.
It was true what they said: that you could feel your loneliest in the middle of a crowd. And the truth was that you could feel even worse on a bad date: not just lonely, but willing to poke your own eyes out with your starter fork to distract yourself from the mundanity of it all.
I knew that I just had to learn to live with things. Or even better, find a way to get over it. But the only thing that would make it better was if I could go back in time and fix things between me and Seb. I wished that, like his favourite character, I had a time-travelling Tardis to make that a reality.
My work was suffering too, as my mind wasn’t really on it. I had to rectify that. Apart from my friends, my career might be all I had left. Thomas no longer needed me; he was forging a new life for himself, well away from my apron strings.
I busied myself signing a pile of letters that needed to go out in that day’s post. I was having another meeting with Mrs Jackson shortly to discuss her ongoing divorce, and wanted to empty my in-box beforehand.
I dropped the letters off on my secretary’s desk, and as I turned to walk back to my own office I spotted a man loitering by reception, waiting patiently to be noticed. He was nervously stepping from one foot to the other, desperately trying to catch the eye of the receptionist.
He was a mild-looking man in his early forties, dressed in a beige jumper and corduroy trousers in the same neutral shade. He reminded me of Seb. Well, how Seb used to look.
Eventually Alice deigned to acknowledge his existence. She was a rather surly woman who had worked at the firm for decades, but always gave the impression she would rather be anywhere in the world than behind her desk.
“Can I help you?”
He cleared his throat awkwardly before speaking. And when he eventually did, his voice was so quiet and unassuming I had to strain to hear the words.
“Would I be able to speak with Jocasta please? I’m Simon.”
Alice nodded curtly and buzzed through to Fluck’s office where Jocasta and he were having another meeting. Time ticked by, and still no sign of Jocasta. Alice picked up her handbag and made her way outside, no doubt for a quick smoke and to ponder on her unfortunate life decisions.
Simon continued to wait, every so often glancing nervously around his surroundings. He looked like a frightened rabbit; as if the slightest noise might startle him and send him scampering off.
He was certainly a million miles away from how I had expected Simon to be. From what Jocasta had told me at the spa, Simon was a loud, boorish bully who felt the world owed him a favour. That was not at all how this Simon appeared. I knew only too well that first impressions can be deceiving, and many a person was not all how they seemed. But something just didn’t seem right here.
I glanced at my watch. I needed to get back to my office and prepare for my meeting with Mrs Jackson, but something was stopping me. I just felt the need to wait and see what would happen next. OK, I was being nosy, but I felt too invested to leave the scene just yet.
I secreted myself, semi-hidden behind the six-foot artificial plant located next to the reception area. If anyone spotted me, I would pretend I was dusting the leaves with my suit sleeve. It certainly could do with a good once-over from a Hoover attachment. There was so much dust on it, it looked as if it had been caught in a sandstorm.
Suddenly Jocasta appeared. She looked none too happy to see Simon waiting for her, now seated in one of the old high-backed chairs in the waiting area.
Her eyes narrowed and her body language was confrontational; not at all like that of a victim. And when she spoke, her voice was harsh and laced with contempt.
“And what do you want?”
Simon looked up at her with sad brown eyes.
“I ju…just wanted to talk to you. I couldn’t leave things how they were this morning. I had to make you understand how I feel.”
His voice wavered a little as his bottom lip trembled.
“Make you see that we just can’t carry on like this.”
She laughed; a cruel and dismissive sound.
“So, you thought you would turn up unannounced at my workplace, did you?”
She sneered at him, her voice hard and brittle.
“Somehow you believe that your feelings were important enough to interrupt my day?”
His head fell like that of a scolded puppy. His shoulders hunched, making him appear even smaller in his oversized sweater.
From my position behind the plant, I began to feel like a voyeur: a dirty old peeping Tom trying to get a quick flash of flesh.
I shouldn’t be doing this, spying on a private conversation. I felt bad; ashamed of myself for earwigging. But much worse than that, I felt bad for Simon. Something was seriously wrong here.
“Achoo!”
Oh no. the sneeze was out of me before I had time to try to curtail it with my sleeve. The dust from the plant had made its way firmly up my nasal cavity.
Jocasta’s and Simon’s heads snapped towards the sound.
I had no choice: I had to show myself. I inched slowly out of my hiding place behind the plant.
“Just admiring the foliage; really amazing what they can do these days, so realistic.”
I ran my fingers enthusiastically over the plastic leaves.
Jocasta shot me a look of pure venom before bustling Simon away into an empty meeting room down the hall, where she firmly shut the door, away from prying eyes.
I stood thinking for a few minutes. What had I just witnessed? From my angle behind the fake Ficus, it had certainly appeared that if anyone was the aggressor in that relationship, it certainly wasn’t Simon. But surely Jocasta wouldn’t stoop so low as to make out she was in a verbally abusive relationship when nothing could be further from the truth? That would just be abhorrent. She wouldn’t do that. But I knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would.
The door to the meeting room suddenly burst open and Simon was coming back down the corridor towards the door, his head down; and I could have been mistaken, but were those tears in his eyes?
As he hurriedly left the building, he passed Alice and Mrs Jackson who were making their way in. Alice was rummaging with a packet of mints, no doubt to cover the smell of cigarettes.
I swiftly pushed the worrying thoughts of Simon to the back of my mind and greeted Mrs Jackson warmly:
“Davina, welcome, I’ll take you down to my office now.”
I couldn’t help noticing that Davina Jackson was looking good. Divorce must be having a positive effect on her. Her grey roots were gone, and she was dressed in a chic navy trouser suit: clearly deciding to spend her settlement in advance. Good for her. Seemed like she hadn’t let her bullying ex get the better of her.
The subject of bullies brought my mind swiftly back to Simon. I could be mistaken, but that seemed like a man that was suffering at the hands of his very own bully.