Chapter 31
31
GRETA
I hover in the doorway to Anjali’s office, waiting for her to finish a phone call. She waves me in with a smile, then mouths, ‘Just wrapping up,’ as she points to the phone.
I slide into the chair opposite her right as her smile falls away and she says, ‘I mustn’t have made myself clear – I’m not asking , Jerome. Amelia was explicit… Yes , this is coming directly from Amelia. Mmm-hmm, I thought as much. Look, I have to go – a colleague’s just stepped in.’ She ends the call with a shake of her head and without saying goodbye.
All these years working with Anjali and in the past few days, I’ve witnessed a different side to her entirely. Maybe it’s me being promoted to managing editor that has fostered the shift in our relationship from (awed) subordinate and boss to something closer to peers. She did just refer to me as her colleague.
‘So, Jerome…?’ I ask.
‘Ugh…’ she groans. ‘He’s new – based out of New York. He’s come over from Torque Talk .’ I make a face. ‘I know,’ she says, rubbing between her brows. ‘He’s not my hire – the son of one of Amelia’s friends, apparently. But you don’t need to bother with all that. What’s up?’
‘I was just about to pop down to The Daily Grind – did you want me to bring you back a coffee?’
Her expression shifts from annoyance to bemusement. ‘That sounds innocent enough,’ she says cryptically.
‘Innoce— What do you mean? I only offered to get you a coffee.’
She places her elbows on her desk, steepling her fingers and resting her chin on top.
‘What?’ I ask again. ‘Now you’re making me feel self-conscious.’
‘This doesn’t have anything to do with a certain bloke who frequents the coffee shop, does it? The one who reminds me of that handsome Scottish actor?’
Oh no. What did Poppy tell Anjali? I didn’t explicitly ask her not to mention Ewan to Anjali, but I’d hoped she wouldn’t. And the possibility that she did feels like a betrayal.
Although, Anjali is Poppy’s real client in this case, so maybe her loyalties are to Anjali, despite everything’s she’s told me about being her top priority.
I feel like I’m going to be ill. I spy a bin next to Anjali’s desk and wonder if I’ll be able to reach it in time. And now she’s chuckling! What is going on?
‘Soz, I shouldn’t laugh, Greta, but your face right now. Oh, I’m being wicked, aren’t I?’
Yes! She is! Give her a hooked nose and paint her green and she’d be Elphaba.
‘You want to know how I know about him, the bloke from the coffee shop?’ she asks, waggling her eyebrows at me.
I swallow the enormous lump lodged in my throat. ‘Sure,’ I say, my voice scratchy and tight.
‘I saw you together – on Tuesday night.’
Well, that’s not what I expected.
Then the full force of what she said starts to land. Tuesday night I was at the London Eye with Ewan – where we had our first kiss – a passionate, not-suitable-for-work kiss. Oh my god! Did Anjali see me kissing Ewan after the London Eye? My jaw drops in horror, and I may actually be the first person to die from embarrassment. At the very least, I’m about to vomit all over Anjali’s lovely office.
I only came in to ask if she wanted a sodding coffee!
‘Er…’ I clear my throat. ‘So, where did you see us exactly?’ I ask, braving the possibility of an even more mortifying revelation.
‘Gordon and I were at The Archduke – for dinner. It’s one of our haunts.’
‘OOOHHH!’ It’s comical how long I draw out that sound, making Anjali laugh again.
‘What did you think I was talking about? Never mind – I probably don’t want to know, do I?’
‘Definitely not,’ I reply succinctly, recovering from the single most horrifying moment of my life in record time.
‘Anyway… two plus two and all that… I only realised after you’d gone that he was the bloke from the coffee shop.’
‘Ewan.’
She snaps her fingers and points at me. ‘That’s right.’ Then she tuts at herself. ‘As if you’d get that wrong – soz. So, he’s the mystery man you’re dating?’
I nod, realising that Poppy didn’t betray my trust, after all.
‘Well, bravo, Greta Davies!’
With part-relief and part-pride, I grin and somewhere in the back of my mind, I recognise the multitude of twists and turns that this (bizarre) conversation has taken. In the entire time I’ve known Anjali, this is the most personal conversation we’ve ever had – and that includes the one in which I confessed how much I wanted to fall in love and start a family.
‘Honestly, I’m thrilled for you,’ she continues. ‘And he’s a good bloke? Not like any of those…’ She struggles to find the word. ‘Those men you dated for the articles?’
‘He’s lovely. It’s early days, of course, but…’
‘No, no, I understand. But you let me know when it’s not-so-early days. As I said, The Archduke is a favourite haunt of ours, and we could all go for dinner sometime.’
I’m taking this offer with a grain of salt. Anjali’s still my boss and going on a double date with her and Gordon… It’s hard to imagine.
‘Right, so I should probably…’ She gestures towards her laptop, meaning she should get back to work, and I pop out of my seat, grateful to be excused.
‘Of course. And where did we land on coffee?’ I ask. ‘Yea or nay?’
‘Oh, definitely yea. And one of those fancy croissant/doughnut thingamajigs, if you don’t mind.’
‘Cronuts.’
‘Is that what they’re called?’
‘Mmm-hmm.’
‘How clever.’
Anjali’s phone rings and I leave her to answer it. On the way out of her office, it occurs to me that I didn’t tell her about Ewan owning The Daily Grind. I’ll fill her in when I get back.
It’s even busier than usual, but Ewan isn’t working behind the counter today; he must be in his windowless office. I queue up, doing multiple sweeps of The Daily Grind when I spy him – not Ewan, but the bloke who’s not an MI6 agent. He’s cosied up at my favourite table talking to a woman who has her back to me.
As I progress in the queue, I watch them – well, him , as all I can tell about her is that she makes him laugh – a lot – and that he seems keen on her, nodding along as she talks and smiling across the table.
Oh, they might be on a date!
I wonder if this is what life will be like now – I’m embroiled in a romance, so I’ll see the signs of romance everywhere I go.
There’s a gentle touch on my shoulder and I turn. This time it’s him! The him.
‘Hi,’ says Ewan.
‘Hi.’ It’s unclear what the done thing is regarding kissing in a busy coffee shop – especially when one of you owns it. We settle on smiling at each other.
‘Perfect timing,’ he says. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet – a friend of mine. We’re over in the corner, so join us when you’ve got your coffee.’
‘Great,’ I reply, even though I’ve promised a coffee to Anjali and staying will mean it’ll be cold by the time I get back. I suppose I could heat it up in the staff kitchen – it’s only a long black.
Eventually, I have my order and I cast my eyes about for Ewan. In the furthest corner, away from the window, he’s standing next to a table and talking to someone I can’t see. I approach.
‘Ewan?’ I say, and he turns with a bright smile.
‘Greta, I want you to meet an old mate of mine. He’s just come in to say hello.’
When he steps aside, there’s a seismic shift in the universe. I gasp, nearly dropping the cardboard tray of coffee and cronuts.
‘Harrison?’
‘Greta?’ he asks, clearly confused.
‘Wait, have you two met?’ asks Ewan.
We all look at each other, our eyes darting about in confusion and (for me) horror. This is far worse than thinking Anjali might have seen me kissing Ewan by the London Eye.
And after a pause so pregnant it could birth quadruplets, Harrison says the worst thing he could possibly say in this situation. ‘Yes, we had a date over the weekend.’
‘A date?’ Ewan barely gets the words out.
‘Yes…’ Harrison must finally realise what he’s said. ‘Oh, wait… you’re the woman Ewan’s been telling me about.’
I gulp, reaching for any words that might make this situation better. But none come to mind, and I’m left gawping like a proverbial fish out of water, my mouth working but no sounds coming out.
‘Greta? You’re dating my friend?’
‘No!’ I say vehemently, finally finding my voice.
‘Mate, it was one date,’ says Harrison reassuringly. ‘It didn’t work out – we’re not seeing each other again.’
He’s clearly trying to make it better, but from the look on Ewan’s face, he isn’t.
‘You’re— But how did you two meet ?’
‘Through a matchmaking agency,’ Harrison replies.
Gah! Harrison, you’re not helping.
‘A matchmaking ag— What are you talking about?’ Ewan asks Harrison, incredulous. He turns to me. ‘What is he talking about?’
‘Technically, we did meet through an agency, but it was for an assignment – a writing assignment,’ I say, fudging the truth a little.
‘What?’ they ask in unison.
Bollocks, why did I say that?
‘You went out with me for a writing assignment?’ asks Harrison.
Ewan shakes his head in disbelief. ‘Greta… I don’t… What ? I thought you were writing about obsessions?’
‘I wish you’d told me,’ says Harrison, interrupting Ewan, but I’m not listening to him. I’m focussed on Ewan, who looks like he’s on the verge of tears – furious ones.
‘Ewan, I’m sorry. Please let me?—’
He holds up his hand, his gaze fixed on the floor. ‘This is a lot to take in right now and I… I need to go.’
And before I know what’s happening or how to stop it, he’s made his way through the crowded coffee shop – stopping briefly at the counter to talk to an employee – then stepped out onto the Strand.
‘Oh god. What just happened?’ I whisper to myself.
Harrison glowers at me. ‘I had no idea you were the woman from the coffee shop.’ I meet his eye. ‘Or that you were dating my friend when you went out with me – or that you only did that to write about me,’ he says, an angry edge to his voice.
‘I wasn’t— I didn’t?—’
Only I was, and I did… Well, to borrow a phrase from Anjali, ish .
‘Please let me explain,’ I say, sliding into the chair opposite him.
He sighs and signals for me to go ahead.
‘I promise, I had no idea Ewan felt the way he did until very recently – this week, in fact. I thought we were spending time together as friends. But then, when I realised… I discovered I had feelings for him . And you were lovely and all, but us not fancying each other – that was mutual, right? I mean, we messaged each other…’
‘No, you’re right – I’ll give you that. But what’s this writing assignment?’
Every second I spend here explaining my actions to Harrison is a second I’m not going after Ewan. But he’s also an old friend of Ewan’s and if there’s any chance I can fix this, then I need to make nice with Harrison.
I also need to avoid spinning any further lies because those will just keep following me. I’ve become a duplicitous little liar and it’s time to stop!
‘All right, look, I was assigned to go on dates by my editor,’ I say. ‘But most of them were?—’
‘Most? How many dates was this?’
‘Including you – five.’
‘Five!’
‘You’re making it sound like I was traipsing about with half of London. Four of the dates were with unsuitable matches – on purpose!’
‘You’ve lost me.’
‘It was part of the assignment,’ I explain, but I’m losing patience.
‘And me?’
‘There was every chance you could have been a match, but if you were… Just keep in mind I had no idea how Ewan felt about me at the time.’
He regards me sceptically.
‘He didn’t even tell you my name. Do you think he was openly declaring his feelings to me, but I was what – just ignoring him so I could go on one date with you? I mean, you’re a catch – granted – but…’
My words finally sink in and he snorts out a laugh, the tension between us evaporating instantly.
‘No, you’re right. Ewan does play things close to his chest – especially since he and Sally… Oh, sorry,’ he says, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
‘What is it about you two and thinking that mentioning his ex is so criminal? Ewan’s in his early forties. Most people in their early forties have an ex. You do.’
Only when I say that do I realise Harrison must know Sally.
‘Fair,’ he concedes. ‘God, can you imagine if we had been a fit? It would have been a bloody awkward conversation when I asked Ewan to be my best man.’
‘What? You’re that close?’
He nods. ‘Best mates at uni – we met before I switched from commerce to teaching. Look, he’d kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but he’s been talking about you for weeks. He’s really keen on you, Greta.’
‘Well, good! It took me some time to realise, but I feel the same way. Actually, going out with you helped me see it.’
‘Um, thank you?’
‘You know what I mean,’ I say, and we exchange smiles. ‘Can I just ask… He talked about me for weeks, but he never told you my name?’
‘He said he didn’t want to jinx things.’
‘Jinx thi— Something to unpack another time, perhaps. Look, I really want to… you know, go after him.’
‘Oh! Yes, go, go !’ he practically shouts.
‘I will, but… are we all right? I promise, I won’t be writing about our date.’
‘Well, good , and yes, we’re all right.’
That’s one thing off my mind, but I still have a lukewarm coffee and a pastry to deliver. I also have no idea where Ewan would go. ‘I could just go to his,’ I mutter under my breath.
‘He probably wouldn’t head home – not right away,’ says Harrison, who must have heard me. ‘He tends to walk when he’s upset, sometimes for hours.’
‘Oh, okay. Thank you.’
We stand and he gives me a hug, which with our height discrepancy is like a giant engulfing a pixie. With a wan smile, I collect my tray of coffee and cronuts.
‘Bye,’ I say.
‘Bye, Greta, and good luck.’
I head back to the office to ask Anjali for the afternoon off. I need to find potential number two and ask him to be my number one.