“Whoa!” Lizzie’s eyebrows rise as she takes in my grim expression. “Everything okay?”
“Just didn’t get much sleep last night,” I mumble.
“Yeah, I can see that! Your eyes are really red. Have you tried camomile tea?” she asks, easing into her seat as she clutches a steaming mug. “It’s meant to be great for insomnia.”
“No, I haven’t. Thanks.” I drop my head, twisting my hands in my lap at the thought of what I’m about to do.
“I’m going to go talk to Jonas now,” I say, meeting Gregor’s beady eyes. He smiles triumphantly, as if he knows the battle is won. Never underestimate reverse Lois Lane, I hiss in my head.
I march to Jonas’s office, every step like a death knell. God, I hope what I say will shift the blame from Lizzie. It should, right? Gregor wouldn’t attempt to blackmail me unless he was desperate to hide something, and I’ll make it clear Lizzie had no access to the story.
“Jonas?” I poke my nose into his office. He’s leaning back on a swivel chair, sizeable bulk spilling over the arms as he talks to Helen.
“Serenity. Come in. Have you had a chance to think about our earlier conversation?” The two of them fix me with a look of anticipation.
“Um, yes.” I lower myself gingerly onto the chair next to Helen. “I know who’s been leaking stories to One World.”
Helen and Jonas cock their heads. The office is so quiet I can hear the hum of the fluorescent lights overhead.
“Well, who?” Helen asks impatiently.
“It’s Gregor,” I say.
Jonas’s eyebrows nearly touch the bald patch on top of his head. “Gregor? Are you sure?”
“Yes.” My heart is beating so quickly now I feel faint, but I have to finish this. “Lizzie never had anything to do with the story. But that’s not all.” I gulp. “Gregor tried to blackmail me into accusing Lizzie.” The words sound so ridiculous I can scarcely believe they’re true.
“Blackmail? Blackmail how?” Helen shifts on her chair, turning her steel blue eyes on me.
“Um . . .” I swallow hard. “Turns out I sort of know the CEO of Top Class. Well, not directly. She’s my boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend, and they had some business dealings together.”
“And you never told us?” Jonas’s eyes narrow. “We have very clear, firm rules about that sort of thing. You must have read the code.”
I nod, not wanting to admit I never got around to finishing it. Kirsty’s words that day before the pub float into my head, and I realise I put off reading in case there was a rule threatening my work on the story – the same way I avoided asking Jeremy about Julia for fear of uncovering something that might risk our relationship.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble. “But look, the only person who had access to all my quotes and research was Gregor. Lizzie didn’t help with any of it.” I’m desperate to show she’s innocent.
“Get him in here,” Helen spits out, and Jonas lifts the receiver then punches in some numbers.
“Gregor? We need to see you.” Hanging up, he turns to Helen. “Stay calm, all right? I must say, it’s rather hard to believe Gregor could be capable of this. He’s one of our most loyal employees.”
Helen purses her lips, looking like she’s itching to break out the waterboard.
Five seconds later – he must have run – Gregor’s quivering snout appears. “Jonas? Oh, hello, Helen. So Serenity’s filled you in on Lizzie. Terrible thing when you can’t trust the people you work with.”
Helen’s lips have compressed so much they’ve practically disappeared.
“Have a seat, Gregor.” Jonas waits until he perches on a chair jammed in the corner, then says: “Actually, Serenity’s been filling us in on your activities.”
This whole mess is almost worth seeing Gregor’s incredulous expression. “My activities?” His reedy voice rises an octave.
“Yes, she claims you attempted to blackmail her into accusing Lizzie . . . when all along you were the leak.” Jonas tilts his head. “What do you have to say?”
Venom pours from Gregor’s eyes, and I jerk my gaze away. “You’re going to believe her? Did she tell you she knows the CEO of Top Class and never disclosed the information? And that Top Class was involved with her boyfriend’s business?”
Jonas nods. “She did, yes, and we’ll deal with it accordingly. Right now, I want a simple answer. Did you tell Serenity to accuse Lizzie or you’d reveal her personal connection to the Top Class story?”
Two small circles of red burn on Gregor’s cheeks. The dusty air in the room is so heavy with tension I can barely breathe it in.
“You know what? I don’t need to suffer such insult,” Gregor says through clenched teeth. “Other places do appreciate my talent, you know. In fact” – he pauses, as if for dramatic effect – “you can consider this my notice of termination. I quit.”
And with that, he marches from the office, nose still stuck in the air. The whole thing is so theatrical I can imagine him practising it in front of a mirror should the opportunity ever arise.
“Good riddance,” Helen mutters. “Bloody nutter.”
“Well, I guess we have our answer.” Jonas turns towards me, and I shrink back under his faded eyes. Gregor may be gone, but what about my future here?
“Serenity, you’ve read the editorial code. It clearly states you must divulge any personal connection to a story.”
I drop my head. God knows if I get through this, I’ll make sure to memorise the damn document!
“Anything that might be seen to influence objectivity – whether it would in actuality or not – is critical. Our magazine’s reputation is at stake.”
I stare at the dirty carpet. Come on, I want to scream, make it quick! I doubt this will ever be painless, but the faster the guillotine drops, the better.
“Wait a second, Jonas.” Helen’s raspy voice cuts the silence in the room. “Serenity didn’t inform you when she should have, true. But the story was never printed, so technically, she didn’t breach the code. With employment rules what they are these days, the last thing we need is to be sued for unfair dismissal.”
I hold my breath, a ray of hope seeping in. Is Helen actually sticking up for me?
“Fine,” Jonas says finally. “Serenity, you’re off the hook for now, but I’ll be extending your probationary period for another three months. If any further violation of the code occurs, that will be it.”
I nod, standing on shaky legs.
“Thank you,” I say in a trembling voice to Helen.
“Don’t thank me,” she responds. “It’s only because you’ve shown you can find a good story and work hard that you deserve another chance. If you want to make it in this world, though, you bloody well better follow the code. I won’t bail you out again.”
I jerk my head up and down, afraid to say more in case Jonas changes his mind. Coming so close to losing my job has reinforced how much I do want to make it here – the right way. No speedy solutions, but taking the time to learn the trade properly.
“What’s going on?” Lizzie asks as I collapse onto my chair on Fact Check Row. “G just came by, got his things, and stormed out. What the fuck happened?”
“Jonas accused him of being the newsroom leak, and he quit.” I’d love to share the gory details, but knowing Lizzie, she’d barge into Jonas’s office and have a go at him for even suspecting her.
“Shiiiiiit! Really?” Lizzie’s mouth drops open. “Gregor looked bloody psychotic. Muttering and swearing under his breath like a crazy man, saying something about how he was going to get you. Why would he want to do that?”
“Guess he’s just angry,” I say vaguely, hoping she won’t delve into it more. “You don’t think he’d do anything, do you?” Not that there’s much he can do now.
“Naw, I wouldn’t worry. G might be slightly mental, but—” Lizzie stops, a look of uncertainty on her face. “Then again, I never would have thought he had the guts to leak stories. Now that I think about it, though, it makes
sense. He was dying to move up, but kept getting passed over. Guess this was his way to get back at the magazine. Just . . . be careful.”
Jonas’s footsteps thud down the corridor towards us, and we swivel towards our screens.
“Serenity and Lizzie, I’ll need you both to submit your work to me, please. We’ll try to find someone to fill Gregor’s position as quickly as possible.”
We nod, and Jonas heads back to his lair.
Lizzie makes a face. “Bet he’ll will be worse than G! God.”
I smile absently at the screen, immensely relieved Gregor’s gone, Lizzie’s still here . . . and I still have a job. But as much as I’d like to kick back and relax, the day is far from over. If I want to get rid of the weight dragging me down – if I do want that honest relationship – I need to talk to Jeremy, to throw open the door on the past. It’s obvious now I can’t keep it neatly sectioned off, despite my best efforts.
My heart thumps as I imagine sitting him down, saying I was the one who dug up the dirt on Julia, and seeing his shocked expression. Do I really need to share that titbit?
Yes, I tell myself firmly. If we’re going to do this right, we have to dismantle every little shred of deception and secrecy – including me asking about Julia if he doesn’t come out with it. Jeremy will understand I’d no clue of his Top Class connection at the time, just like I’m sure I’ll understand his reason for keeping the donation to himself. I gulp as the possibilities whirl round my mind, but I push them away.
If we ever want to be the solid couple I thought we once were, we need to trust we’re strong enough to face anything, past or present.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As the day progresses, the urge to tell Jeremy everything grows stronger. When the newsroom clock hits five, I gather up my things and shout goodbye to a startled Lizzie. I think it’s the first time I’ve left before her!
Out on the street, I force my feet faster, crashing into a slow-moving woman in front of me. She throws me a suspicious look, gripping her handbag like I’m going to steal it. Don’t worry, lady, I want to say. I have more important things on my mind than your hideous Prada knock-off.
By the time the tube rattles into Bond Street and I fly through the Marylebone streets, I’m practically frothing at the mouth to spill my guts. I can’t wait for the distance of the past little while to fade away; for our relationship to get back on an even keel. Whatever happens, I’m sure we can handle it.
“I’m home!” I swing through the door, cocking my ears for sound. The house is dark, but the TV’s low buzz comes from the lounge. Yanking off my coat, I trot down the corridor.
“Hey, there.” Jeremy’s curled up on the sofa, an old crocheted blanket tucked around him. Even though it’s still early evening, the blinds are closed, and the yellow glow of a lamp lights the room.
He yawns and stretches. “Hey, hon. Good day?”
“Um . . .” I sit down beside him, swivelling so I’m looking straight into his eyes. A flash of doubt goes through me. Maybe now isn’t the right moment. He’s just woken up— no. There’s never an ideal time to face uncomfortable issues, is there? You just need to plunge in.
“We have to talk,” I say.
“Okay.” Jeremy eases into an upright position.
I take a deep breath. God, now that I’ve plunged, where on earth do I start? It’s fine, I tell myself, trying to calm the nervous fluttering of my heart. It’s only Jeremy, the man you love; the man who loves you.
“A few weeks ago, I was assigned a story to fact-check. A story on Top Class.”
Jeremy’s eyebrows rise, but he doesn’t say anything.
“I called around to talk to some clients, and I discovered the negligence at Rose House.” I fidget nervously, watching his mouth form a silent ‘O’.
“You were the one who found that information?” he asks. “But it wasn’t printed in your magazine.” His brow furrows as he tries to work it out. Good luck, I mutter to myself. I’m still having problems getting my head around the whole thing.
“Um, I’ll explain in a second,” I say, not wanting to muddy the waters right now with the newsroom leak. “Anyway, while all this was going on, I had no idea Top Class was behind the donation. Karen told me at the hospital, the day you collapsed.”
Jeremy blinks. “Wait – so you were aware Top Class was donating?” His tone is unreadable, and my heart beats faster.
“Well, yes. Once I knew, I tried my best to stop the story, I really did. I even tried to warn Julia. But we had a leak in the newsroom, and it got to One World.” I spit out the words as fast as I can, desperate to release them.
Jeremy’s silent for a long moment. Then he says: “Let me repeat what you’ve told me, just so I have it all clear.”
“Okay.” I try to decipher what he’s thinking, but his face is strangely blank.
“You knew about Top Class’s negligence, that Julia was the CEO, and that she was giving me a donation?”
“Well, yes. I wasn’t aware Top Class was the donor until Karen told me at the hospital, though.” I need to make extra certain he knows I didn’t deliberately set out on a course that would harm Pick Up Sticks.
“Why didn’t you talk to me?” Jeremy asks with an incredulous expression. “It would have been easier than trying to stop the story, right?”
I drop my head. “You were so exhausted . . . and I couldn’t bear to see the look on your face when I told you the charity would be threatened. Not to mention I was the one who uncovered the story.” I pause. “Especially after everything that happened last year.”
“I would have understood, Serenity. It’s nothing like that whole tabloid mess – there’s no way you could have known about Top Class.” Jeremy shakes his head. “But if you had told me, at least I could have warned the trustees what was coming. As it was, I was completely ambushed, and it didn’t say much for my credibility. They all knew Julia was a personal contact.”
I gulp – I hadn’t even thought of that. “I didn’t want to worry you, and I figured I could take care of it myself.” I look up, meeting his gaze. “The same way you didn’t want to worry me with the charity’s finances, or your health, or . . . Julia and the donation.” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. “Right?” God, I hope I’m right.
Silence falls, and Jeremy stares at me with an odd expression. Beads of sweat spring up on his brow, and his eyes shift back and forth.
“Serenity.” His voice is hoarse, and a little bubble of fear works its way into me. “There’s something I should tell you. Something about Julia and me.”
Julia and him? Together? I struggle to keep my expression neutral, despite the bubble now pressing on my lungs as I fight to take in air. Well, whatever he says, surely it can’t be as bad as the scenarios I’ve cooked up in my head.
“Okay, well.” He swallows again, and I want to scream at him to just tell me! I clamp my lips closed, though. I’ve said everything I need to. This is Jeremy’s time to talk.
“You know Julia and I were together for almost two years,” he begins, “and that it didn’t exactly end on a high note.”
A high note? That’s putting it mildly. “Yes.” I nod, trying not to look impatient.
“Well, a few weeks before our anniversary, I proposed, and she said yes.” Jeremy averts his eyes, studying the leather sofa.
My mouth drops open as my mind works like mad, struggling to grasp what he said. He proposed? She said yes? Julia wasn’t a girlfriend – she was a fiancée?
“I gave her a ring. She wasn’t keen on it, so she asked me to keep everything quiet until we found one she liked.” He makes a face. “Of course, I know now why Julia didn’t want to share our news – she was with David, hoping things would work out with him. Hedging her bets.” He laughs bitterly, tracing a crack on the sofa cushion.
My eyes widen as pieces of the past fall into place. It makes sense now: Jeremy’s extreme reaction to the news Julia married his best friend; the amount of time it took him to g
et over her. They weren’t just a regular couple – he thought he’d be spending his life with her. An icy patch slowly forms inside as I wonder why on earth he didn’t tell me sooner.
“After I proposed, we bought this house together. I planned to do it up so we could move in after the wedding. Julia still owns fifty percent of it. When I needed funds for the charity, I approached her to see if she wanted to buy my share.”
His words hang in the air as I shake my head incredulously. Julia owns half this house? This place – that always feels so welcoming, so comforting, like home – and Jeremy and his fiancée bought it as their marital pad? I glance around the room, and suddenly everything feels tainted, as if it’s been touched by an invisible force transforming the familiar to foreign.
“Anyway, Julia wasn’t interested, but she did offer us a donation we couldn’t pass up.” Jeremy shrugs. “Look, I should have told you she was behind the money. But that would have meant explaining why I got in touch . . . and all the rest of it.” He smiles sadly. “I’m sorry.”
My throat is closed and although emotions claw at my chest, I can’t find any words. I wanted to face the past, I really did, but even my over-developed imagination never suspected the pair of them were engaged! It makes my own secret-keeping seem amateur.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I croak. “About proposing to Julia, the house . . .”
Jeremy ducks his head. “You already knew how humiliating it was, finding her cheating on me. I didn’t want to look like even more of a loser.” His cheeks flush. “I wanted to put all that behind me and move on.”
He reaches out and takes my hand, but for the first time, I don’t feel the rush of love that comes when he touches me. Inside, I’m frozen; jolted to the core by his revelations. I understand the desire to put the past behind him. I was desperate to do the same. With all the drama between us from the very start, it makes sense we’d both want a smooth ride. But to keep something so huge from me?
I love Jeremy, of course I do. I know he loves me, too. But what does it say about the strength of our bond that we’ve kept more inside than we’ve actually shared?
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