Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
When I returned to the office after seeing Zahra, Jamie was at his desk.
It would be a massive understatement to say he didn’t look his best. Although he’d clearly been home and changed his clothes, he hadn’t got as far as shaving.
His hair hung lankly over his forehead, his shirt was unironed and his normally glossy shoes were scuffed.
Over the smell of the Chicken McNuggets he was picking at listlessly, I could detect stale booze.
‘Christ, I’m hanging,’ he muttered when he saw me. ‘I feel worse than I did when Arsenal got knocked out of the Champions League, and that was bad.’
I gave him a hard stare. ‘I’d say I feel sorry for you, but… nah. Sorry, I don’t.’
‘What happened last night anyway? I can only remember bits. I went on a Tinder date, but she was a total moose, so I tried to drink her pretty, but it didn’t work. Then I had a brainwave.’
‘Some brainwave. You turned up shitfaced at my flat with a bunch of roses!’
His jaw dropped slightly and he shoved a chicken nugget in it. ‘Oh my God. So I did. Bottle of Perrier-Jouet too, if memory serves.’
‘It does not. You’d mislaid that somewhere along the way.’
‘Fucking hell. That must’ve set me back sixty quid. I must’ve put it down when I checked the map on my phone and forgotten about it. Guess it will have made some homeless person’s day. And I fell over, right? My knees are bruised to crap.’
‘Right outside my front door.’
He grinned sheepishly. ‘So I did. And your fellow wasn’t best pleased.’
‘He was not. Jamie – what the hell were you thinking? If you were even thinking, which from where I’m sitting it doesn’t look like you were.’
‘All part of my great master plan, innit? Sending texts and stuff didn’t work, so I had to raise my game.’
‘If last night was your A game, I’d hate to see you on a bad day.’ I glared at him.
‘Hey, maybe the execution was a bit lacking, but the strategy was great. Sam didn’t like it, did he?’
‘No, he didn’t. And nor did I. We were going to have a proper talk last night and, thanks to you, we couldn’t. And I don’t know when we will because…’
I faltered, remembering Sam’s closed, angry face and monosyllabic responses when I’d tried to speak to him about even inconsequential things that morning.
Jamie brightened. ‘He’s pissed off with you, is he? That means it worked. He’s jealous.’
‘Jealous? Jamie, if you could have seen the state you were in last night – let me put it this way, the rough sleeper who picked up your bottle of fizz wouldn’t have been jealous of you last night.’
I took a deep breath. My worry about Sam and concern about the role I might have inadvertently played in the trouble Zahra was in had crystallised into annoyance with Jamie – anger, even.
Who did he think he was, messing around with my life like I was some kind of puppet whose strings he could pull at will?
‘You acted like a total dickhead,’ I said.
‘Frankly, you embarrassed yourself. And you embarrassed me. Think about it for one second. If I was properly down with your stupid idea of winding Sam up by making him jealous of me and you – and I’m not sure I ever was – how do you think last night would have worked out for me? ’
Jamie opened his mouth to say something, but I was in full flood, so he ate another chicken nugget instead.
‘What would Sam have thought?’ I was properly getting into my stride now. ‘I can imagine – can you? If my girlfriend’s stupid enough to fall for this drunken idiot who can’t even stay on his feet long enough to bring her flowers, he’s welcome to her. That’s what he would’ve thought.’
‘He said that to you?’ Jamie looked agog.
‘No, he did not. But that’s because, thanks to you’ – to be fair, it was thanks to me as well, but I wasn’t in the mood to admit that – ‘he’s not talking to me.’
Jamie’s face fell. ‘Look, babe, I’m sorry. I really am. Last night was… like I say, it wasn’t my finest hour. But my intentions were good. My heart is pure. I was only trying to help.’
‘If that’s your idea of helping me, maybe you should try and completely fuck my life up next time, and you might do better.’
I managed to keep up my scolding tone, but the truth was, I was beginning to feel sorry for Jamie.
He looked so hangdog and miserable sitting there, a smear of ketchup on his chin.
Like a child who was being told off for something that wasn’t his fault or a puppy who’s just chewed your new Jimmy Choos.
‘I really didn’t want to fuck your life up,’ he said. ‘I’ll apologise to Sam. I’ll buy him flowers. Well, maybe not flowers—’
‘Definitely not flowers. And I think it’s best you don’t contact him until I’ve had a chance to speak to him – or at all.’
‘Okay, Georgia. Whatever you say.’
‘And about this whole Sam thing. I know you’ve been trying – in fact, you’ve been extremely trying – to help.
But let’s face it, it hasn’t worked, and it’s not going to.
It needs to stop, Jamie. Today. Now. I’m done with it.
Okay?’ I gave him a final blast of the evil stare, since it seemed to be working so well.
‘And you might want to wipe that ketchup off your beard.’
His hand flew to the pile of napkins on the desk in front him, and he grabbed one, scrubbing at his face furiously. And just in time because as soon as he’d managed to clean himself up, the door of Jasper’s office opened and our boss stalked out.
The look on his face made me realise that I was a mere amateur in the hard stare department.
‘You.’ He stabbed a finger towards Jamie, and my stomach cartwheeled. ‘In here. Now.’
Relief that it wasn’t me being summoned mingled with fresh sympathy for Jamie.
However bad his day had been thus far, it was about to get a whole lot worse.