Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
‘I’m not going to lie, you do look hot,’ Jamie told me, his deep-blue eyes fixed intently on my face, his white teeth flashing an appreciative smile.
To my annoyance, I found myself blushing. ‘Stop it. Anyway, it is thirty degrees out there.’
‘Not in here, it isn’t. In here, the aircon seems to be doing its job just fine.’
He glanced down at my chest, and my blush intensified as I realised that my nipples had responded to the sudden cool of the bar and were poking through my thin dress and the unpadded bra I’d put on that morning because it was too warm to wear anything else.
‘Look,’ I scolded. ‘You’re not meant to be acting like this now. This is supposed to be for Sam’s benefit, and he isn’t even here.’
‘I’ve got to get into character,’ Jamie argued unrepentantly. ‘Gin and tonic?’
‘Go on then.’
I found a seat at a table with three chairs and waited, alternately watching Jamie at the bar and glancing at the door through which Sam should appear any minute.
It was almost two weeks since I’d seen Molly. That night, I’d arrived home to find Sam in the kitchen making a cup of tea, looking so completely normal it had almost taken me by surprise.
It was like I was expecting there to be lipstick on his collar or a strand of copper hair on his jacket lapel. Like I expected him to carry Ava’s scent or her literal fingerprints – some physical sign that he wasn’t mine any longer.
‘How was Molly?’ he asked, kissing me on the lips.
‘Good. Seems like they’re getting the hang of the whole being parents thing. Arthur’s still cute.’
‘Isn’t that the deal?’ Sam asked with a grin. ‘They start out cute and then they turn into screaming monsters after a couple of years, but by then you’re so invested you can’t give them back?’
I laughed. ‘Something like that, I guess.’
We looked at each other, and silence descended – a silence that could only be broken by one question.
I asked it. ‘How… how was Ava?’
‘All right. She’s settling into her job, and she’s found a room in a flat share in Clapham.’
And did you see her room? But I couldn’t bear to ask that question.
Instead, I said, ‘I’m kind of knackered. I think I’ll go to bed.’
Sam looked surprised but said, ‘Okay. Night, Georgia.’
And that had been that.
When Jamie was back in the office the following day, I’d found myself confiding in him again about my worries.
‘He’s acting like seeing her is totally normal,’ I fretted. ‘Like there’s nothing for me to worry about. But how can there not be? People don’t just suddenly start seeing their exes again for no reason, right?’
‘Don’t ask me,’ he replied. ‘None of mine will speak to me, so I wouldn’t know. But what I can help you with is the next stage of our plan.’
I’ll just ask what it is, I thought. I don’t have to agree to anything.
But before I could ask, Jamie carried on. ‘Next Friday night, Birch Bar. You arrange to meet Sam there after work, and when he walks in, what does he find?’
‘Um… what?’ I asked, although I suspected with a growing sense of dread I knew the answer.
‘You and me,’ Jamie said. ‘Not snogging – nothing like that, don’t worry. But having a drink together, all nice and cosy. So he feels jolted, like he’s… interrupting something.’
It’s just a drink, I thought. It’s not like Jamie and me going for drinks after work isn’t a thing we’ve done before.
‘Okay,’ I said cautiously. ‘But, I mean, it’s either something or it’s nothing, right? How’s us going for a pint after work going to make him think there’s something going on?’
Jamie sighed. ‘It’s all in the presentation. Hear me out.’
He explained, and I’d found myself feeling a grudging admiration for his attention to detail. His plan was tactical and subtle. It was almost as if he’d done this sort of thing before.
And so here I was, at a table in one of Soho’s hottest new bars, wearing a new dress Sam hadn’t seen me in before. That morning, when he’d suggested going out somewhere after work as he often did on Fridays, I’d vaguely said I wasn’t sure how my day was going to pan out but that I’d keep in touch.
Then I hadn’t kept in touch. I’d left Sam’s lunchtime message on read – mostly because Jamie had insisted on confiscating my phone and keeping it in his desk drawer all afternoon so I couldn’t respond – and when he’d messaged again at five thirty, sounding slightly impatient, I’d gone to the ladies’ and changed into my new dress before replying:
Actually, I’m just off to the Birch Bar. Want to meet there?
Now, as per Jamie’s instructions, my phone was tucked away in my bag.
Jamie was sitting next to me, frosty glasses and a bowl of olives on the table in front of us, and we were deep in conversation.
Anyone watching us would think we were on a date, I realised.
It was only if they were close enough to hear that they’d realise what was actually going on.
‘He’s not here yet,’ I fretted, picking at the skin around my nail nervously. ‘Can’t I check my phone?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘What if he’s lost?’
‘We’re in London, West One, not Outer Mongolia, Georgia,’ Jamie scolded. ‘And he’s got Google Maps, same as anyone else.’
‘What if he doesn’t turn up?’
‘He’ll turn up. I bet you.’ Jamie’s smile was knowing – almost devilish.
‘Bet me what?’
‘If he doesn’t show, I’ll buy you dinner. Don’t worry, Georgia, I’m not going to abandon you.’
He reached out and patted my knee – a gesture that I knew was meant to be reassuring but could have looked like something completely different.
It felt different too. Not just because his hand wasn’t Sam’s but because whenever Jamie had touched me in the past, it had been the touch of a mate, not that of a… fake boyfriend.
‘Thanks.’ A grateful smile spread across my face. ‘That’s good to know.’
‘Now look like you’ve having fun,’ he ordered.
To my surprise, his sternness made me laugh.
‘That’s better,’ he said approvingly. ‘And right on time. Don’t look – your fellow’s just walked in the door.’
As if I’d been hypnotised, I kept my eyes fixed on Jamie’s face.
With nowhere else to look, I noticed his eyes were the same colour as his peacock-blue shirt.
His teeth looked extra white against his tanned face.
His hair was smooth and glossy. I was so used to seeing him at work, hungover or stressed or giggling with me at some in-joke, that it always took me by surprise when I remembered how actually, properly hot he was.
And he looked like he was enjoying this. If I’d been someone else, I’d probably be enjoying it too, but I couldn’t get past the furtive, guilty feeling in my stomach.
If there was something going on between us for real, this is how I’d feel all the time, I realised.
Then another thought came into my mind: Is this how Sam feels when he’s with Ava?
That was enough to make me lean in closer to Jamie and laugh as if he’d said something hilarious.
I was still laughing when Sam stepped up to our table. But when I saw his face, I stopped right away. It wasn’t that he looked angry or even annoyed. He just looked vaguely puzzled and a bit hurt.
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Jamie did.
‘Mate!’ He stood up, extending a hand for Sam to shake, and after a moment’s hesitation, Sam took it. ‘Good to see you; didn’t realise you were on your way. Why didn’t you say, Georgia?’
‘I… My phone was…’ I rummaged in my bag with unsteady hands and took it out.
There were three messages from Sam, but I hadn’t read them.
I stood up too, noticing that my legs felt more wobbly than they should have after just one G&T, but I couldn’t get to Sam to kiss him hello because Jamie was enthusiastically clapping him on the shoulder.
‘How’s the movie-making business treating you?’ he continued, like Sam was his long-lost best friend. ‘All good? What can I get you to drink?’
‘A pint of whatever’s on draft would be great, thanks.’ Sam returned Jamie’s smile, but his didn’t look entirely convincing.
‘Coming right up.’ Jamie headed off to the bar, moving as gracefully as some sort of predatory cat in a jungle.
Now that we were alone together, I felt small, foolish and awkward. All the power I’d expected to have surging through me had drained away. Without Jamie by my side, I felt horribly vulnerable. And vulnerable was a way I’d never, ever expected to feel when I was with Sam.
‘Did I interrupt something?’ Sam asked. His voice was casual, but there was tension in his hand where it gripped the edge of the table.
‘Of course not.’ I moistened my lips with my tongue. ‘We finished work early so we thought we’d come for a quick drink. You don’t mind, do you?’
He’s meant to mind. That’s the whole point. But I don’t want to hurt him. And if I am, I hate it.
Sam shook his head, looking as if he might want to say something, but before he could, Jamie returned with a beer for him and another gin and tonic for me.
‘Nothing for yourself?’ Sam asked.
Jamie shook his head. ‘I’d best be off. Don’t want to cock-block.
’ He leaned over and kissed me on both cheeks.
I could smell his aftershave and whatever product he put on his hair that made it so shiny and smooth.
Him and Ava, right up there with their great hair.
The thought of her reminded me why I was doing this – what this was all for.
‘Bye,’ I managed to say. ‘Have a great weekend.’
‘And you.’ Jamie looked intently into my eyes. ‘I’ll see you on Monday.’
‘See you then,’ I muttered.
He strolled out, both Sam and I watching as he stopped to chat briefly to the woman at the desk by the door, grinning and making her laugh, before stepping out into the hot evening.
Then it was Sam’s eyes I found myself meeting, pale and steady after Jamie’s sparkling navy-blue gaze.
I saw him notice my new dress and freshly applied make-up.
I wondered if he could smell the perfume Jamie had made me apply after frog-marching me into the Liberty beauty hall on the way to the bar.
‘You look lovely, Georgia,’ he said. ‘Good day?’
‘Uh, busy. You know. Yours?’
I gulped my G&T, almost tipping ice down my chin. I should have been happy to see Sam. I was happy to see him. But my pleasure was soured by how clearly unsettled he’d been by seeing Jamie there.
Unsettling him is literally what is meant to happen! I could imagine Jamie’s voice as clearly as if he was still there with us.
And I knew that, although he wasn’t actually speaking to me, if he had been, then he would have been right. It was meant to happen. I’d done nothing wrong and I wasn’t going to.
I just wanted to remind Sam that it was me he wanted and not Ava, and that if he changed his mind, there were other people who did want me.
No matter how wretched it made me feel, I knew it was working.