‘Elizabeth Catherine Clancy nee Plimsworth, soon to be just Plimsworth again, I don’t want to hear another word. You’ve waited a long time to be happy. Here’s your chance. Don’t waste it. Now get over there and get your man.’
With that, she smacked Elizabeth across the rump and shoved her towards door twenty-four.
Kate was running. Running away from her shop and the well-meaning, good-hearted friends who were working to fix it. Running from the weight of impending doom she knew would swallow her if she stopped for just a moment. She was jogging down slippery footpaths, dodging puddles and weaving through pedestrians who had hunched shoulders and weary faces under their dripping umbrellas.
It had been decades since she’d run like this. It felt good to be sweating, to feel her heart pounding in her chest and her breath raking over her throat, inhaling diesel fumes and cigarette smoke.
She’d lost track of where she was. She’d passed an off-licence, clothing stores, a jewellery maker and countless cafés and coffee stations. Tube stations, too, had flown past without her registering much more than the red circle sign. She’d turned corners and run down alleys, passed neon signs and guitar-playing buskers, and avoided riot debris. She’d been in London for three months but she could still lose her way if she wasn’t paying attention.
Her chest burned and her right knee began to ache; a new development, she noted. She slowed to a brisk walk, pushing past people who stared at the woman dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt and sandshoes. Clearly, she wasn’t a real jogger. She was touched to see concern on one woman’s face. There was a momentary pause and her mouth opened a fraction as though she was about to ask if there was something wrong. But she closed it again, gave Kate a tight smile and looked away.
There was something wrong, alright. Everything, in fact. And she was suffocating under the inevitability of her spectacular failure and how she was ever going to reconcile her husband to it.
She turned another corner, this time into a quiet, narrow laneway, and found herself at a second-hand bookstore. She pushed open the heavy oak door and was greeted by a petite, stylish young woman, who looked somewhat at odds with the mustiness of the store. Bookshelves towered over her.
‘Good morning,’ she beamed, her red lipstick bright against her translucent skin.
‘Hi,’ Kate said, still gasping to regain her breath.
‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ the woman asked. She gestured to a warmly lit corner of the shop where a huge maroon couch sat.
‘Don’t suppose you’ve got any whiskey?’
The young woman raised one eyebrow, checked her watch, and nodded. ‘An Irish coffee it is.’
‘Perfect.’
Kate curled up on the couch, pulling her knees to her body and hugging a cushion to her chest. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She rushed to retrieve it, hoping it was Mark. She’d sent repeated texts and a voicemail begging him to call her. She needed him. And she needed to know what he was thinking and feeling, how he was reacting to the news about Quentin.
But it wasn’t Mark; it was Leila.
She considered letting the call go through to voicemail. She really didn’t feel strong enough to speak to her former assistant right now without saying things she might regret later. But at the last minute, she took the call.
‘Kate, where are you?’
‘Out,’ she said curtly. Leila had no right anymore to know where she was.
‘I’m at the shop but the others didn’t know where you’d gone. You left your bag behind so they didn’t think you’d be gone long but they say it’s been ages.’
‘Oh.’ Kate stiffened, realising she’d left her purse behind and had no way to pay for the enormous mug of coffee the assistant had just placed in front of her.
Thank you, she mouthed at her.
‘I’m at a bookshop,’ she said to Leila.
‘A bookshop? Where?’
‘I don’t know, actually.’ She stared blankly at her surroundings, looking for clues. ‘Hold on.’ She dropped the phone to her lap and waved at the assistant, who was unwrapping books from a postal satchel.
‘Excuse me. I’m sorry, but where am I?’
The assistant smiled sympathetically and patiently explained where she was, and Kate relayed it to Leila.
‘Okay,’ Leila said. ‘Stay right where you are. I’m coming to you. There’s something I’ve got to tell you right now.’
‘Wait,’ Kate said, before she could hang up. ‘Could you please bring my bag with you?’
Kate watched Leila enter the bookshop, speak to the woman at the front, then weave her way through the books to stand in front of the couch.
‘Hi,’ she said, a wary smile on her lips. She extended the handbag to her.
Kate took it and dropped it at her feet.
‘Would it be okay if I sat down?’ Leila said. ‘I really have to tell you something.’
‘You can sit,’ Kate said, pointing at a chair to her right. ‘But I have a few things to say to you first. I have a bone to pick with you. A whole carcass, actually.’
Leila sat stiffly on the edge of the chair. ‘Okay.’
‘You deceived me. Right from the start. You used Lucas as a professional reference when really he was your best friend and love interest. He was always going to say whatever he needed me to hear for you to get this job.’
‘Lucas is a professional. I’m sure he would have spoken the truth,’ Leila said evenly.
‘Why did you leave your last job?’
Leila bit her lip and held her knees with her hands. ‘I was fired.’
Kate rolled her eyes and shook her head slowly. ‘Perfect.’
‘I kind of lost it one day and I shoved a co-worker and threw a paperweight at his head,’ Leila said.
For a moment, Kate forgot how angry she was with Leila and stared at her in shock. ‘You’re kidding.’
‘I wish I was.’
Kate laughed, a bit hysterically, then pulled herself together. ‘What else haven’t you told me since we’ve been in London? Leila, how did this all go so wrong?’
Leila took a big breath and leaned back in the chair, looking tired. ‘I decided early on, when I did the risk assessment, that there were four areas of risk that needed to be managed.’
‘Four? We only talked about three—schedule, budget and brand recognition.’
‘They were the three I showed you. The other area of weakness, I felt, was you.’
Kate felt as though she’d been kicked in the chest. ‘Me?’
‘You were nervous and lacking confidence. You almost fell apart when you saw the state of the shop.’
Kate folded her arms tightly across her chest. That was true.
‘But that didn’t last. I got better.’
‘You did. But the schedule was so tight right at the start, and I really wanted The Tea Chest to succeed, and I guess I felt you needed a bit of managing. If I could shield you from some of the stress, then I should do that and let you get on with what you’re so good at.’
‘Just like you did when you deleted Lucas’s email.’
‘Yes, I suppose that’s true. But in this case, I wanted to prove that I could handle more responsibility. Being fired from a job was a pretty big blow to my ego and I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t a bad person and I could turn it all around.’
Kate was still stinging from the notion she needed managing.
‘You said you’d get back to me about meeting Quentin, but you didn’t. But—’ Leila said, holding up her hand to forestall Kate’s protest ‘—I should have reminded you. I should have just made the appointment and had him turn up at the store. Instead, I decided to keep quiet until after the grand opening, and that was wrong.’
‘Because you liked Quentin.’
‘At that stage, I thought he was nice but we hadn’t spent a lot of time together. It was more because I just wanted to believe we could pull it all off without a hitch. I underestimated you and I’m sorry for
that. If you had met him before the launch, maybe you would have read him differently. Maybe you would have seen something I didn’t.’
Kate got to her feet and paced, absorbing all Leila was saying. She caught the attendant’s eye and signalled for two more Irish coffees. If she was ever going to take up drinking, this day seemed as good as any other.
In all likelihood, even if she had met Quentin before the launch, it wouldn’t have changed anything. They hadn’t been flooded with offers and they needed to make hard decisions, fast. Leila was right in that the intense time pressure had created a situation that made them vulnerable no matter what they’d done. And even when she met Quentin at The Tea Chest and sensed a vibe between him and Leila, she’d ignored it.
Leila went on. ‘I should have investigated who he was right at the start. And I absolutely shouldn’t have handed over the cheque to him the day he was supposed to deliver the ads. I should have realised something was wrong. It was the time pressure.’ She grimaced. ‘No. Actually, on that particular day, I was distracted by my feelings for him. I stuffed up big time. Huge. I trusted him, like an idiot.’
Kate flopped back into the chair as the coffees arrived and the attendant handed them a plate of ginger biscuits, the spicy nutmeg scent catching Kate’s attention. Hearing Leila say it out loud was agony. That moment had been their last chance to get it right.
But she couldn’t turn back time. What was done was done.
‘It’s not your fault,’ Kate said, nibbling on the edge of a biscuit. ‘At the end of the day, the buck stops with me. I accept that. I was the captain and I dropped the ball.’
‘There were a lot of balls in the air to be dropped.’
‘That’s true. Maybe it was just such a monumental task that we were never going to succeed.’
‘Maybe it’s not over yet,’ Leila said doubtfully.
Kate dunked her biscuit into her coffee. She’d like to have believed that. She’d also like to have believed she hadn’t irreparably damaged her marriage, but the longer Mark’s silence went on the more likely it seemed that she had.
‘Have you spoken to Quentin?’
Leila shook her head. ‘I’ve left so many messages, but he’s ignoring me.’
Kate grunted, thinking of her own unanswered messages to Mark. She didn’t blame him for being mad. They’d had the perfect opportunity to cash in and be living a comfortable, stress-free life right now.
‘Kate, I still need to tell you my news.’
‘There’s more?’
‘I’m afraid so.’ Leila filled Kate in with the research Lucas had done, finishing with the fact that someone had hired Quentin to pull off this charade.
‘Unbelievable,’ Kate repeated, over and over again. ‘Unbelievable.’
‘Kate, I hope you know how deeply sorry I am,’ Leila said, her voice strained with unshed tears. ‘I honestly believed Quentin was the real deal. I’ve loved this job since the moment I started—it’s been a dream come true. Well, it was until it turned into this nightmare. I’ve made horrible mistakes but I would never intentionally have done anything to jeopardise your business. I know what this company means to you. It was your passion for it that showed me how wonderful business could be.’
Perhaps it was the whiskey, but Leila’s words began to soften Kate’s heart. She knew what that was like, to find a position in a company so filled with passion and creativity. It was magic. A chance in a million.
Simone had plucked Kate from a market stall and given her a whole new world. Kate had almost done the same for Leila. For Kate, it had been Judy who’d tried to sabotage her career. But she’d been lucky to have Simone to fight for her at every turn. Leila had been sabotaged by Quentin, and Kate had to accept that she’d let Leila down because she was a leader now, like Simone, but she hadn’t fought hard enough for Leila. She’d let her fall.
Suddenly, she sat bolt upright on the edge of the seat.
‘What?’ Leila said, putting her coffee down.
‘Leila, I know who did this.’
‘Who?’
‘The same person who’s been sabotaging me from the beginning. But this time Simone wasn’t there to protect me and I’ve let her get the better of me.’
Leila’s eyes narrowed, then suddenly opened. ‘Judy?’
‘Yep. Judy. And now it’s time for me to grow up and defend myself.’
Beside her, Victoria raised her hand to knock but Elizabeth slapped it away.
‘Wait.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘You’ve never told me why you don’t have anyone serious—any men—in your life,’ Elizabeth said.
Victoria raised a shoulder and dropped it. ‘And?’
‘I want to know. Will you tell me?’
Her sister dropped her eyes to the floor. ‘I just always feel like a bit of a Gumby,’ she said. ‘All clumsy and dopey and boring.’
‘But you’re not,’ Elizabeth said firmly. ‘You have a lovely heart. And you’re fun to be with. Everyone loves you. That’s why your sales record at the shop is so good. No one can resist that smile.’
Victoria’s face lit up with pride.
‘It’s just confidence,’ Elizabeth said. ‘You’ll find it when you’re ready.’
‘And what about you?’ Victoria said, tilting her head to the door. ‘Feeling confident?’
‘Not in the slightest.’ She raised her hand to knock and then dropped it again.
‘What is it this time?’
‘I just wanted to say thank you. You’ve been such a rock for me since that day in the hotel when you first called. You got me here, you picked me up, you brought me hair dye and cups of coffee and kept me from going mad.
‘And thank you for setting me up with Haruka, however it turns out with him now. I was so angry at you to start with but I should have said before now how right you were. You said in the shop that you were waiting for me to be in a better place before you got us together. That was insightful and sensitive. After Haruka and I went out; well, I’ve been so wrapped up in the joy of it all that I completely forgot I had you to thank for it.’
‘You’re welcome.’
Elizabeth hugged her.
Then Victoria reached up again to knock. Three short raps. ‘Come on, Queen Lizzy, it’s not over yet. It’s time for you to get your happy ending.’
From behind the door came muffled music and low voices. Then there were footsteps. And the clatter of plates and glasses.
Elizabeth turned to Victoria. ‘He’s got company. Quick.’ She grabbed her sister’s arm and turned to leave. But the door had opened behind her. She spun around, plastering a smile on her face, just as Haruka stuck his head out into the corridor.
‘Haruka, hi,’ she said.
Haruka’s mouth twitched into a small smile, but his eyes were unsettled, moving from her to Victoria. He stepped into the corridor, pulling the door most of the way closed behind him.
Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. He’s probably having an orgy in there. Playing naked Twister.
Elizabeth wished the universe would split open and suck her through time and space to anywhere that wasn’t here. Her eyes flicked past him, trying to see what he was hiding, though she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. Naked Twister could be most disturbing.
He moved his body to block her view.
‘Um, what’re you doing here?’ he said, and then must have realised his tone was accusatory because he tried to soften it with a strained smile. ‘It’s great to see you,’ he added.
But clearly it wasn’t.
She scrambled for something to say.
‘We were in the neighbourhood,’ she said, knowing full well he would see through the lie. ‘Er, this is my sister, Victoria.’
He cocked his head to the side. ‘Yes. We’ve met before.’
‘Oh. Right.’
An awkward silence followed while Haruka guarded the door.
‘For the love of chocolate,’ Victoria said. ‘Haruka, what’s going
on in there? You got company? A woman? Or two? What?’
‘No,’ he emphasised. ‘Nothing like that.’
Just then, there was a burst of loud, unmistakable, male laughter.
Elizabeth and Victoria looked at each other, then looked back to Haruka with raised eyebrows.
‘So you’ve got men in there?’ Victoria pressed.
‘No.’ Haruka looked horrified. ‘I mean, yes, but it’s not what you’re thinking.’
‘Can we come in then?’ Elizabeth said, finding her voice and her courage. No one was going to make a fool of her again. She had to know why he was being so secretive. Better now than later, when she’d fallen in love and invested years in the wrong person only to find out the truth when it was too late.
Actually, it was already too late.
He reached up a hand to rub his forehead and looked at the floor.
‘Haruka,’ Elizabeth said. ‘What’s going on?’
He sighed, then stepped back and opened the door wide. ‘Come in.’
They walked down the short hallway and entered the open-plan living space. Five men sat on the couches and chairs, plates of pastries and a pot of coffee and white mugs on the coffee table. They looked up when the trio arrived; their hands, which a moment ago had been busy with wool, suddenly paused mid-activity.
Victoria scratched her head like a cartoon character trying to figure out what was going on.
Elizabeth turned to Haruka, her face screwed up in puzzlement.
‘Hi,’ one of the men said, jumping in to break the silence. He was in his late twenties and immaculately dressed. He was holding a crochet hook in one hand. In his other hand, he clutched some kind of pink project—a work in progress that looked as though it might one day be a beret. The other men slowly began to resume their work: blanket squares, baby booties, doilies, even a tea cosy.
Crochet work. All of it.
Somewhere through her shock, Elizabeth wondered if maybe Kate would be interested in retro tea cosies for the shop. But she shook herself back to reality. This wasn’t normal.
Haruka crossed his arms over his chest and Elizabeth could see the outline of his pecs through his shirt. A crazy giggle began to tickle her chest.
The Tea Chest Page 26