Chapter Twenty-Two #2
‘No. She can find out at the same time as everyone else. I don’t have time to brief everyone individually.’
‘Well,’ said Lucy, wiping her damp palms on the upholstery. ‘I appreciate you giving me a heads up.’
‘Hmm,’ said Sasha, already thinking about what was next. ‘You’re going to get a lot of questions.’
‘Yeah, I already have. I’ll just say I haven’t spoken to him and I don’t know anything, which is true. I was going to message him later, actually.’
Sasha paused, then sat down again. ‘This is an incredible opportunity for him, Lucy,’ she said.
‘But he’s not the most confident, as you know.
There’s a lot of work to do to make him ready for this, and he’s going to need all kinds of support.
But it’s what he’s always wanted, and we need to help him look forward, not back.
Make sure he doesn’t lose his focus and get distracted. ’
‘Right,’ said Lucy, noting the unspoken leave him alone. Maybe Sasha knew more than she thought, or maybe she’d just guessed. You didn’t make it as far as Sasha had in advertising without a certain amount of gut instinct. ‘Understood.’
‘Good,’ said Sasha. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. Agency briefing in twenty minutes.’ She picked up her bag and left the room, Olly giving Lucy a wave as he closely followed behind her.
The room was quiet again, and Lucy sat in silence for a minute, thinking about what had just happened and what it all meant, until her phone buzzed in her pocket. She fished it out to see a message from Marco, asking if she was free later.
Lucy thought about it for a moment, weighing up her options. The tension release would be welcome, but the questions wouldn’t. She still felt mentally and physically exhausted, and even tidying up her bikini line felt like too much effort.
Can I come back to you on that? she replied. Loads of work stuff to catch up on. Will let you know.
It was dismissive, she knew, but Marco wouldn’t take it personally.
It was the thing she valued most about their relationship – the lack of effort required to meet each other’s needs.
What had Monica called it, back in the Guntherhütte?
Sterile. Maybe that was a bit much, but it was certainly clean.
And wasn’t clean a good thing, in the end?
‘So,’ said Jonno, dumping their drinks on the table. ‘What happened in Zermatt?’
Lucy took a sip of her cider, unable to meet his gaze. ‘There was this avalanche. I got caught in a mountain hut and it was all quite dramatic.’
‘No,’ said Jonno patiently. ‘I mean between you and French Exit.’
‘Don’t call him that,’ said Lucy quietly.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I found out why he’s uncommunicative and leaves the party early. He has an anxiety disorder.’ It wasn’t the only thing she’d found out about Nate, but Jonno didn’t need those details.
‘Shit, really?’
Lucy nodded.
‘OK, well now I feel like a total prick,’ said Jonno, blowing out his cheeks.
‘Yeah,’ said Lucy. ‘So did I.’
‘But don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve changed the subject.’
‘In what respect?’
‘Fine,’ said Jonno, putting down his pint and folding his arms. ‘Let’s do this the hard way. How many years have we known each other?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Lucy. ‘Nine?’
‘It’s well over ten, as you know. And in that time, how many conversations have we had about your sex life?’
‘Christ,’ said Lucy with a hollow laugh.
‘I have no idea. Hundreds, I should think.’ Lucy noted how Jonno called it her sex life and not her love life and pushed that under the mental rug labelled things I can’t deal with right now.
If that rug covered much more stuff, it would qualify as a mountain.
‘So we know each other pretty well, right?’
‘Yeah. Course.’ She twitched with discomfort, knowing Jonno was getting closer to the big question. Could she outright lie to him? Probably not.
‘When Sasha told the team Nate wasn’t coming back this morning, you looked like you might puke,’ he continued. ‘And you’ve been mooning around all day. You look, in short, like a woman who’s lost something she actually cared about.’
‘What are you asking, exactly?’ said Lucy, deciding she might as well pull the plaster off sooner rather than later.
‘Did you sleep with him?’
‘No,’ said Lucy emphatically. ‘Absolutely no sleeping was involved.’ She shrugged and half-smiled as Jonno beamed triumphantly.
‘YES,’ he said, punching the air. ‘I KNEW it. I bet Olly one hundred euros that you two had totally banged.’
‘You can’t tell Olly,’ said Lucy quickly.
Jonno raised his eyebrows and she batted him away.
‘Look, it wasn’t a big deal. An outlet for the stress of the situation, nothing more.
’ The words had a distant echo in Lucy’s head, like she was talking about someone else. But clearly Jonno wasn’t buying it.
‘I don’t believe you,’ he said.
‘On what basis?’
‘Because I think you like him more than you’re letting on.’
‘And since when were you the expert on women’s feelings?’
‘Since my amazing wife decided I needed to read some Caitlin Moran books so I can better help our daughters navigate the road to womanhood.’
‘Jesus,’ said Lucy, choking on her cider. ‘That sounds horrific.’
‘I’ve finished How to Build a Girl, and I’m now on to How to Be a Woman. They’re going to help me be more attuned to women’s needs, apparently.’
‘Christ, I’ve heard it all now. You’re wrong, obviously, but even if I did have some kind of .
. . feelings for him, what difference would it make?
He’s gone, and I’m still here.’ She could feel the anger building, but it wasn’t directed at Jonno, or Nate.
She was angry at herself, for opening up to Nate in a way she hadn’t for a long time.
She’d told him things she’d never told anyone, not even Jonno.
And now that wound had been opened, conversations about Nate just felt like salt being rubbed in.
Jonno’s response was interrupted by Lucy’s phone buzzing with a message from Anthony. Hey babe, call me about wedding on Sat. Assume you have something drop dead to wear?
‘Oh, shit,’ muttered Lucy.
‘What is it?’
‘I’ve agreed to go a wedding on Saturday.’
‘Whose wedding?’
‘Anthony’s cousin.’
‘What, like an actual date? With Tentpole Tony?’
‘It’s not a date,’ said Lucy, pulling a face. ‘Something to do with his family expecting him to turn up with a woman.’
‘OK, this is incredible. You’re actually going on a date.’
‘I am NOT,’ insisted Lucy. ‘It’s a favour for a . . . friend.’
Jonno grinned and held up his hands. ‘You’re going to meet all his friends and family, and they’re all going to make a big fuss of you, and that is, by any standards, the definition of a date. He’s stealthed you into the girlfriend zone.’
Lucy shook her head and picked up her phone. My mate says you’ve stealthed me into the girlfriend zone, she typed. Confirm or deny?
Deny, replied Anthony immediately. You’re too cool for that kind of game.
She showed the message to Jonno and pulled a smug face. ‘See? You’re wrong.’
‘You know he doesn’t mean cool in a good way, right? He means cold. Emotionally unavailable.’
Lucy raised her eyebrows. ‘Well, thanks for making me feel really great about myself, J. I’m having a fabulous first day back.’
‘Oh, don’t be like that,’ said Jonno, wafting his hand at her. ‘Since when do you care what I think?’
‘Since forever, Jonno,’ said Lucy. ‘In fact, you’re at the top of a very short list of people whose honesty I value. But that doesn’t mean it’s always easy to hear.’
‘Shit, I’m sorry,’ he said, looking like he genuinely meant it. ‘You want to get dinner? Marcia’s been asking after you, we can pick something up for all of us.’
‘No,’ said Lucy, draining her glass. ‘I’m going to go home and drink wine in the bath.’
‘How dramatic,’ laughed Jonno. ‘But you know where I am if you change your mind.’
‘I really do,’ said Lucy affectionately, putting on her coat and dropping a kiss on his cheek.
She hurried out of the pub towards the bus stop, pulling up the hood on her coat against the rain.
Both Anthony and Marco would probably be available tonight, but right now she didn’t want to see anyone but Nate.
She stood under the shelter of the bus stop and pulled out her phone, then scrolled to his details to write him a WhatsApp message.
But Sasha’s words earlier loomed big in her mind – Nate had other things to focus on right now, and Lucy wasn’t on the list. And anyway, what would be the point?
He was living with Sasha, with all his hopes and dreams laid out in front of him, ready for the taking.
Whereas she, Lucy Glover, thirty-two years old, was still in Bristol, her hopes and dreams locked in a box for so long that the lid had rusted shut and she’d forgotten what was in there.
She put her phone back in her bag as the bus swished to a stop in front of her, considering for one tantalising moment that maybe it was time for things to change.