by Laura Tait
I allow the disappointment to wash over me before I really think about what he’s saying. We can go away together. Not exactly what I was after, but an excellent start. We’ll get used to holding hands and kissing in public, and once we get used to it, having that sort of relationship back home will be the natural step. And I’ve not been on holiday in ages . . . this will be ACTUALLY AWESOME.
‘Let’s do it,’ I laugh, drumming my hands on the edge of his desk in excitement. ‘Where shall we go? How about South America? I reckon we can fit in three countries in two weeks – we don’t want to be rushing around too much. Brazil, Argentina and Peru could be a nice itinerary?’
He makes a face and cocks his head in a look I interpret as ‘nah’.
‘How about India, then? We should probably pick north or south as trying to cover both in that time will be tricky.’
He still looks underwhelmed.
‘Thailand?’ I venture. Come on, Richard, throw me a bone here.
‘That’s a good shout.’ He nods enthusiastically.
‘Yeah? Brilliant! We can travel around – there’s a train that goes between Bangkok and Chang Mai but we’re probably better off catching internal flights so we don’t waste a day, and we should do a couple of the islands, too. Ooh – we can split the second week between Vietnam and Cambodia, and maybe even Laos if we—’
‘Can’t we stay in one place? I’m beat, babe. I just want to spend a couple of weeks lounging by a pool and not having to think about anything. Let’s book a hotel for two weeks.’
‘Oh, right.’ Two weeks lying by a pool? When there’s so much to get out and see? That sounds dull.
‘We’ll stay somewhere nice, though,’ he says, like that’s what I’m worried about. ‘Five star. You choose it and I’ll pay.’
I try to shake off the negative vibes taking hold and resolve to stop being an ungrateful cow. I have a handsome man instructing me to find the best five-star hotel in Thailand and he’ll pay, and I’m sitting here pouting because it looks like I won’t get to eat street food with the locals.
‘Right,’ I exclaim with forced cheer, heading for the door. ‘I’ll start looking.’
‘Holly?’ he calls after me.
‘Uh-huh?’ I smile back at him, though he’s leafing through a magazine now and no longer looking at me.
‘Find somewhere all-inclusive, yeah? That way we don’t even have to leave the hotel.’
‘‘Sup, buddy?’ I subtly minimize sixthsensesresort.com/phuket and maximize invoices.exe/september as I clock Danny hovering at my shoulder.
‘Not much.’ He sighs, perching himself on the edge of my desk.
He starts flicking through my stationery catalogue in what’s clearly a show of acting casual.
‘Dude,’ I say, grabbing the book out of his hand, startling him. ‘You’re obviously after lady advice. Out with it.’
‘I’m not,’ he laughs. ‘Well, not really. It’s not advice I need, more of an opinion. Not for me, for a friend!’
‘O-K,’ I say slowly, watching him take a deep breath like he’s trying to gather the courage to say what he wants to say.
‘Do you think office relationships are a good idea or do you reckon they’re doomed to failure?’
Oh, holy crap!
‘What are you getting at, Danny?’ I ask, more harshly than I intend to.
‘Nothing. Don’t worry.’ He shrugs sulkily, practically running back to his desk with his head bowed, as Jemma gets back with our teas.
Why is everyone asking me weird questions today? And then it hits me . . .
‘Oh my God, something’s happened between you and Danny!’ I cry, almost making Jem spill my tea over my desk.
‘Shhh,’ she hisses. ‘Christ, Holly – I don’t think Helen from accounts on the fifth floor heard you there.’
‘That’s all right, I’ll bring her up to speed later in an all-staff email. Now tell me what happened.’
Jemma is uncharacteristically coy as she explains how she and Danny were the last two left after the quiz on Wednesday and, after several ciders, ended up having a hot and heavy snog in a doorway by Bank station.
‘Aw, you guys are in love.’ I smile, clutching at my heart.
‘We’re so not – urgh, as if.’
‘OK.’ I shrug, turning back to my screen.
‘I mean, loads of colleagues get it on when they’re drunk – doesn’t mean they’re gonnae get married.’
‘True,’ I mumble, not looking at her.
‘And it’s only because I was there – I could have been anyone.’
‘Right, I hear you.’
‘Why are we still on this? What’s your obsession with my love life, anyway? Sounds like you need to get laid.’
Ain’t that the truth . . .
‘Let’s never mention it again, all right?’
‘Sure,’ I say nonchalantly, sipping my tea and watching her out of the corner of my eye.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Jemma blushing.
I carry on with my Thailand research, trying not to laugh every time I see Jemma or Danny surreptitiously glance at the other one, then revert their eyes to their own screens quickly when they get caught. After emailing Richard a few links to hotels, I research things to do in Thailand. I take it if Richard doesn’t want to leave the hotel then he’s not going to be up for an elephant trek. Shame. Could I do it alone? He might be a bit pissed off if I leave him lounging by the pool by himself. Plus, it kind of defeats the purpose of us going on holiday so that we can act like a couple.
My phone rings.
‘Richard Croft’s office?’ I answer distractedly.
‘Ten thousand pounds.’
‘Sorry? Mum, is that you?’
‘No, it’s the banker.’
‘Eh?’
‘Deal or No Deal. You’re Noel Edmonds.’
‘No idea what you’re talking about, Mum. I don’t watch much telly.’
‘No, me neither.’
‘Ha, sure.’
‘I hardly watch it at all these days, thank you, lady. I’ve got too much going on, which you’d know all about if you came to see us in York.’
Oh, here we go.
‘I will, Mum,’ I promise. ‘I’m actually in the middle of booking a holiday with, um, a friend from work, and once I have the dates sorted I’ll pick a weekend to come and see you.’
‘You should do – York’s a lovely place. We’ve been to some lovely restaurants we’ll take you to when you visit, and we’ve joined a bowling team. I’m rubbish but your dad’s pretty good. Ooh, when you come we can go for afternoon tea at Betty’s Tearooms, just the two of us. It’ll be fun. I don’t blame you for never coming to Mothston, really. What a boring old dump that place was. But you’ll like it here.’
‘Mum!’ I laugh in shock.
‘Well, it was. I don’t know why we stayed so long. Well, other than the fact your dad loves it.’
‘Relationships are about compromising, I guess,’ I sigh, my eyes flicking to my screen, where ‘Things to do in Thailand’ still fills the Google box.
‘That they are. But you know what, Holly?’ Her voice has gone uncharacteristically quiet and serious. ‘Compromising works two ways. I should have put my foot down sooner about moving out of Mothston.’
‘You’ve been happy though, right?’
She pauses a little too long for my liking.
‘Mum?’
‘Yes, of course I’ve been happy being with your dad. I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere without him. But I can’t pretend I don’t resent the number of years I’ve wasted being stuck somewhere that never felt like home to me. Especially after Julie died. He’s a stubborn man, your father. Never one to put others before himself.’ Her light-hearted tone has returned, but I get the feeling she’s not joking when she adds: ‘I had to practically threaten to go by myself to get him to agree to move to York.’
We’re both silent for a moment. I don’t really know what to sa
y.
‘Afternoon tea sounds lovely, Mum,’ I say eventually, a lump forming inexplicably in my throat.
‘Great. Anyway I’d better be off – I have a Women’s Institute meeting tonight.’
‘You’ve joined the Women’s Institute? Bloody hell, Mum. You’re not going to turn up in one of those naked calendars, are you?’
‘Fat chance,’ she tuts. ‘No one wants to look at this with no clothes on. Except your dad maybe.’
‘Right, thanks, Mum – I have to go and throw up into my bin now.’
‘OK, dear. See you soon.’
I hang up slowly, with a feeling of impending doom about the realizations going on in my head right now. Mum’s right – Dad does tend to put himself first. Why have I never noticed that before? But that’s not the worst thing. Richard is like that, ten times over.
He’s never once put me first. It’s all about HIS career, HIS holiday, HIS need for us to have a secret relationship. He’s never once done something he hasn’t wanted to do. Apart from turning up to Chloe’s wedding two hours before it ended – whoop-de-fucking-do. If it was his mate’s wedding I’d have been there for the duration. Why have I been kidding myself that was such a remarkable gesture?
That’s why I love Alex – he’s the only one who has ever put me first.
Oh my God, I love Alex. Without even realizing it, I’ve actually gone and fallen in love with him again.
He’ll plan his weekend around feeding Harold, he’ll change his radio station from 6 Music to Absolute Eighties whenever I’m over, he’ll DRESS UP AS JASON BLOODY DONOVAN AND SING IN FRONT OF HIS CLASSMATES, for crying out loud. No man has ever put me first the way he has. Not Richard, not Max, certainly not Dean – not even my dad.
If Alex was in Richard’s situation he’d have told everyone as soon as he knew it was important to me. And if people had thought badly of him? He’d suck it up.
Will Richard EVER do the same?
I don’t hover at his door this time, I simply walk in and sit down.
‘Are we ever going to tell people about us?’ I demand.
‘Sure,’ Richard peers over the magazine he’s still reading, blinking in surprise.
‘When?’
‘When the time is right.’
‘When’s that?’
‘I don’t know, Holly.’ He sighs, tossing the magazine gently onto his desk. He sounds exasperated now. I don’t care.
‘So, never then?’
He leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair.
‘Babe, it’d cause too many problems if people found out what’s going on while I’m your boss. It wouldn’t be worth it.’
Ouch!
‘Quit then.’
‘I can’t quit,’ he laughs, his eyes softening. ‘You could, though? You’re only a secretary – it can’t be that hard for you to find another job, and I can easily get another PA.’
His words stun me for a few seconds. That’s how he sees me. Not as his right-hand woman or the wind beneath his wings or any of the other crap clichés I’ve been fooling myself apply to us, but merely a robotic purveyor of random admin.
‘Fine, I quit,’ I whisper after a few moments.
‘You don’t have to do it right now.’ Richard rolls his eyes and smiles wearily.
‘Yeah, I do. I quit,’ I say again, louder this time. ‘All of it.’
‘What do mean?’ He looks genuinely confused, following me all the way as I jump out of my seat and storm out of his office.
‘I no longer want to work for you,’ I explain matter-of-factly, reaching my own desk and swinging my Mulberry bag over my shoulder. ‘Or under you . . .’ I don’t know where that came from. ‘OR over you . . .’ What does that even mean?
It obviously made more sense than I thought because the last thing I hear as the heavy oak door slams shut behind me is Danny exclaiming, ‘Have Holly and Richard been doing it?’ and Melissa deadpanning, ‘Oh. My. God.’
Right. What the fuck am I going to do now?
Chapter Thirty-one
ALEX
‘Did you know?’
Not for the first time, Melissa jolts me with three little words.
‘Did I know what?’
‘Holly and Richard.’
How does she know? My mind assumes the role of quizmaster – Jeremy Paxman on University Challenge. Has Richard finally agreed to go public? Did Holly confess? Did she use our kiss to nudge him into submission? I’m going to have to press you.
I fill my lungs with a long, deep breath, sling my work bag onto the sofa and grip the phone between my shoulder and ear while guiding one arm from my jacket sleeve. I then swap ears until the other arm is free.
‘She’s my best friend. I promised her.’
‘Yes, Alex, and I’m your girlfriend. We’re supposed to share everything.’
I toss the remote control across the sofa and place myself in the spot where Holly and I kissed for the first time.
‘How did you find out?’
‘I felt like such an idiot. I had to act like I wasn’t shocked, that of course I knew Holly and Richard had a thing, that of course my boyfriend had confided in me.’
‘What on earth are you talking about? What’s happened?’
‘Oh, you didn’t know?’ Melissa pauses, allowing her affected surprise to fossilize. ‘I thought she was your best friend?’
I try to disguise the impatience in my sigh. ‘Will you just tell me what has happened?’
‘Holly blew her top at Richard in the office, just now, screaming at him that it was over. In front of everyone.’
Melissa details the scene, her voice an orchestra of different emotions. On strings we have shock. On percussion there’s glee. Wind comes courtesy of disappointment. And let’s not forget our conductor: indignation.
I zone out, filling in the gaps myself.
It’s me. She has dumped Richard to be with me. She finally sees that we are meant for one another. The touch of her hand against mine, the night in the park, the kiss: preludes to this. Inside I feel like a can of lemonade that’s accidentally dropped from the fridge, ready to burst.
‘How could you lie to me all this time?’
‘I didn’t lie, I just—’
‘Didn’t tell me the truth. It’s the same thing, Alex. Your loyalty should lie with me, not her. If I hadn’t just found out about her and Richard, I’d have half a mind to think that something was going on between you and her.’
I scoff, for my own benefit as much as Melissa’s. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘It would be ridiculous. She’s really let herself go lately.’
I remove the phone from my ear, pressing it against my thigh and closing my eyes. After a few seconds I return it to my ear. Melissa is still talking.
‘. . . times I think that your friendship with her means more to you, is more important to you, than what we have, and I shouldn’t feel like that, Alex – no girl should.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I protest weakly. ‘I’m sorry you feel like that.’
‘Just tell me I’m wrong – tell me that I mean more to you than Holly.’
Now Melissa is Paxman, and I feel like a dumbstruck student from an old polytechnic that is up against Oxford Balliol. I should have seen the question coming but instead we’re consumed by a level of silence that until now I didn’t think was possible in the city of London.
‘Anyone would think you were in love with her or something.’
I cannot think of the right thing to say, and the line goes quiet for a few seconds.
‘Can you just be fucking honest with me, Alex? I want to know whether the man I’m supposed to be starting a life with has a thing for some slag from my office. So if you don’t mind, I’d like you to tell me: is whatever is going on with you and Holly more important to you than what we have?’
I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a steep cliff, deciding whether to jump or to turn back. In the end I do neither. I stand still, submitti
ng my back to the gusts, and fall without jumping.
‘You’re a fucking coward, Alex. A fucking coward. I’m not playing second fiddle to anyone, especially not some whore secretary who tries to screw her way to promotion.’
The line dies. I stand up from the sofa, dropping my phone into the indentation that I’ve just left in the cushion, and the guilt I feel at having hurt Melissa is matched only by the relief that has come with knowing our relationship is over.
Chapter Thirty-two
HOLLY
I could travel the world. I toy with the idea as I pull on my cardigan, realizing as I do that my shoulders are slightly burnt. It’s sunny but breezy on Blackheath Common, and the kite flyers are out in their dozens around me. It makes me think of the end of Mary Poppins when Mr Banks quits his job and goes to spend time with his family, singing ‘Let’s Go Fly a Kite’. The symmetry makes me laugh out loud until I remember that I don’t have anyone to fly kites with, and that I might have been a tad hasty in quitting my own job. And then I realize I have tears streaming down my face even though I’m still laughing, and I’m glad there’s no one near enough to see me because they’d be scared for their life.
So if there’s nothing here for me, travelling really does make sense. I have enough money. A decent enough salary coupled with an unadventurous relationship with a flashy boyfriend was at least good for my savings account. It was kind of earmarked for my and Richard’s dream home, but I’ll think of a plan B while I’m trekking through the Australian outback, finding myself. An old university mate, Jess, left recently to do just that. By the sound of her emails she’s finding herself in a lot of Aussie men’s beds. I could maybe catch up with her somewhere.
There’s just one teeny-tiny thing complicating matters.
I don’t want to leave Alex.
But just because I love Alex, doesn’t mean I can have him. He’s got a girlfriend, and I can’t hang around playing third wheel to him and Melissa. But if he’s serious about Melissa, why would he kiss me?
For a moment, I’m lost in the memory of the touch of his lips on mine, but then I force myself back to the present and jump up, brushing the grass off my dress. I have a plan. First I need to go home and feed Harold and rub cocoa butter into my burnt shoulders, but then I’m going to find out where I stand with Alex.