The cafe terrace was on a hill. Tables anchored themselves in between cobble stones. The cloudless sky made it seem like we were actually in the Mediterranean. I spotted him behind a menu.
‘Hey.’ A wave of butterflies hit me as I sat down.
‘Hey.’ He folded the menu.
‘How are you doing?’ I asked with forced lightness.
‘Fine, thank you. How are you doing?’
‘Fine also,’ I said. ‘Actually, feeling rested. I’ve been off work for a few days – working on my flat.’
‘You’re taking holidays now? How will the company survive?’
The waiter came over with bread and olives. ‘Ah, Orla and Columbus are back.’
We smiled, despite the tension and ordered some tapas and a bottle of wine.
‘Look, I’m really sorry. I know I took stuff out on you.’ I waited for him to say something but his face didn’t change. ‘I mean I haven’t been myself for ages. You know I have a list of people I have to apologise to too,’ I attempted a joke.
‘I don’t think you want to let anyone in. I find it exhausting.’
‘It’s not that.’ I insisted, flinching at the flatness of his tone. ‘I was just doing what I thought I had to do. I guess I didn’t know how to handle it when things didn’t go my way... You know, I never thought anything like that would ever happen to me.’
‘You shouldn’t let them get to you that much.’
‘What about you? You let things get to you.’
‘I can see that now,’ he admitted. ‘I was always so angry working for CouperDaye. But my stress level has gone way down since.’ A slow grin formed on his face. ‘I thought I needed a holiday. Turns out I just needed to smack Boris.’
‘That was some scene, Sam,’ I laughed. ‘Everyone’s still talking about it.’
‘I can imagine.’ He topped up my wine glass.
‘So, how is your life of leisure?’ I asked.
‘I’ve been in touch with some agencies. Looking at contracting next. Definitely thinking about a holiday first though. Maybe diving. Somewhere warm.’
We both helped ourselves to a sip of wine while I imagined sun-filled water and a small fish beckoning me to follow around a coral corner.
‘I was in CouperDaye for five years,’ he continued, ‘Can’t believe I gave those muppets five years of my life.’
‘I’m going to miss you in work.’ I smiled.
‘I’m going to miss you too, Orls.’ He imitated Boris. ‘Give Boris a wedgy for me, won’t you?’
‘He’s afraid of me now,’ I said, ‘you’ll enjoy that story. I’ll save it for some other time. You know, Felix has been moved groups. And we’re going back to the analysis-development divide.’
‘What?’
‘And Boris comes out of the whole thing squeaky clean.’ I grinned, enjoying the shocked look on his face, as our food arrived.
‘Boris has the survival instinct of a cockroach,’ Sam said. ‘End of the world and it will be Boris and the cockroaches. And Boris will be trying to find out which one of them is in charge so he can kiss his ass.’
‘I suppose I lack the political savvy to survive the way Boris does.’
‘That’s what I like about you, Orla. Your lack of political savvy.’
‘This coming from the man who punched his manager.’
‘Touché.’
The park opposite had an art gallery on the weekends. Paintings leaned against the railings and the artists sat on stools, chatting.
‘I need one more painting for my flat,’ I said, looking over.
‘Something of Big Ben?’ he teased.
‘Maybe one of the bridges.’
‘We can have a look if you like.’
After lunch we went over to the paintings. There was one of an old street, stretched around a corner like it was in a hurry.
‘I think I like that one,’ I said.
We continued into the park and came to an empty bench. Sam stretched out his arms over the back and I sat against him. The green before us slopped down towards a row of trees, sheltering a path along the periphery. A jogger followed the path. From somewhere out of sight, skateboarders were making smacking and skidding sounds.
‘So, I fixed the bug in Cameron’s code. You know, the one that caused the crash?’ I said. ‘Did you know about it?’
‘Know about what?’
‘Know that there was a bug in his code. Before it went live?’
‘Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t.’
‘Okay. I’ll ask you that again sometime.’ I rubbed my hand on his thigh.
‘I think I’m a bit drunk after that wine,’ he said.
‘Do you have anything you have to do later on?’
‘No.’
‘Maybe we can do something together?’
‘Maybe go for food or something.’
‘Or, maybe we could stay in and cook dinner together,’ I said. ‘You know, individual meals at the same time, or something like that?’
‘I donno.’ He sucked air through his teeth. ‘Isn’t that against our rules, Orla?’
‘You know what, Sam? You’ve just got to let go of the rules.’
If you enjoyed The I.T. Girl you may be interest in Yes Chef, No Chef by Susan Willis, also published by Endeavour Press.
Extract from Yes Chef, No Chef by Susan Willis
Chapter One
Katie looked at her new black cocktail dress hanging on the wardrobe door and shivered with excitement - she couldn’t wait for the party tonight at The Savoy. It seemed forever since she’d spent any quality time with Tim and hugging herself with anticipation she did a little pirouette to reach the stool in front of her dressing table. Dreamily she thought of how the champagne would flow and how they’d dance the night away wrapped in each other’s arms - surely this would help to get them back on track, she mused, glancing at the bedside clock and praying he wasn’t going to be too late.
Her mobile rang and when she saw his name on the screen she snatched it up. “Where are you?”
With a note of wariness in his voice, he said, “I’m still at the restaurant.”
“But you rang at five o’clock to say you were on your way, and the taxi will be here soon.” Katie exclaimed.
Tim sighed with exasperation as though he was talking to a child, “I know, darling, and I’m so sorry but Jim phoned in sick at the last minute and I’m going to have to stay and cover service for him, and…”
“What!” she yelled into the mobile, imagining him holding it away from his ear and pursing his lips with irritation. She could hear the clatter of pans from the kitchen and an electric whisk whirling, and then a girl’s voice calling for him which made her want to scream in frustration. “Shit, you can’t do this, Tim. Not tonight of all nights?”
“Look, Kate, I can’t just leave the restaurant without a chef on duty. It’s my responsibility, you know that. You’ll be fine with all your work mates and friends,” he cajoled, “I know you’ll have a great time.”
But the hurt and disappointment was raging though her and losing her usual control she snapped, “But it’s my big night and you promised me nothing would stop you from being there. I mean, it’s The Savoy and the tickets cost a fortune, and I have my new black cocktail dress…” she tailed off seething inside.
“Bloody hell, Kate, I’ve more things on my mind than new dresses,” he shouted, “I’ll give you the money for the damn tickets!”
Tears of dismay were pricking at the back of her eyes. She couldn’t believe he wasn’t coming and letting her down again.
“Look, I’ll make it up to you later,” he crooned. “And keep your new dress on so I can see it when I get home.”
Her mouth was dry with anxiety and she only managed to click her tongue in amazement at his patronising tone.
The noise from the kitchen faded and he said softly, “Oh, come-on, you’ll still enjoy yourself. Just make an excuse about work pressures for me and then give them my apologies.
”
You can grovel as much as you want, she thought lifting her chin in defiance, but you’re not getting the upper hand. She managed to clear her throat and speak in a calm but detached voice. “I’m sick to death of making excuses for you, Tim,” she said clicking her mobile off.
Her hand trembled while she poured herself a glass of wine. How could he, she raged, he’d actually gone back on his word again. The night had been planned for months and it was supposed to be her chance to impress the new management bosses from the company - everyone was making a special effort to attend the party to launch the new advertising campaign. Well, everyone except Tim of course. She’d imagined herself in the classy cocktail dress walking serenely with her arm through his, chatting confidently and making polite conversation whilst sipping champagne.
But now she’d have to walk around on her own, she seethed and glared at his happy smiling face in the framed photograph on her dressing table. ‘You knew how important this night was to me,’ she hissed and slammed the photograph face down. She took another mouthful of wine for Dutch courage and felt a surge of determination sweep through her - she wasn’t going to let him ruin her night, by God, she wasn’t, she’d go to the party on her own and shine like she’d never shone before.
Looking into the mirror she swept blusher majestically across her cheeks and admired the hairdresser’s handy-work with her usual brown mousey hair. The cut was excellent making the long bob swing effortlessly when she moved her head from side-to-side and the vibrant dark brown colour emphasised her hazel eyes. With a final nod of satisfaction she decided her make-up was as good as she was going to get it and swivelled around on the stool to look at the dress, remembering the day she’d bought it with her friend, Lisa.
They’d been in Selfridges at the end of an exhausting four hour shopping trip and just when she was about to give up she’d spotted it. Plain black crepe in a sleeveless classic style, the dress fitted her figure perfectly from the moment she slipped it over her head and wriggled it down over her slim hips.
“Even the two inch length above my knee is perfect for me,” she’d said to Lisa who’d nodded in agreement.
“It’s just right, hon,” Lisa had said, “Because although you want to show off those lovely slim, tanned legs you don’t want to look like a slapper in a mini dress. Yep, it’s simple, yet chic, and just the thing to impress the bosses.”
Katie had hugged her in thanks and then later when her other close friend, Sarah, joined them she had loaned her a fine string of pearls and pearl stud ear rings which complemented the outfit perfectly.
Picking her mobile up she pressed Lisa’s number.
“Hey, there,” Lisa said. “How’s the dress look?”
Katie moaned and told her what had happened, and then held the mobile at a distance ready for the blast of derisory comments.
“The bastard!” Lisa fumed. “What the hell is going on with this guy?”
In the past she would have defended Tim to the end of her days but now she simply couldn’t find the strength anymore. “I don’t know,” she said. “Within the last two months alone he’s missed his parent’s silver wedding, my cousins’ engagement, and Sarah’s thirtieth birthday party, and that’s without arrangements to meet after work to see a film or go to the quiz nights at the pub.”
She could hear the pathetic whine in her voice and struggled to keep the lump in the back of her throat down. She pleaded, “What am I going to do, Lisa?”
Lisa’s voice changed instantly as she went into full support mode. “OK. At the moment you’ll do nothing. You’re going to get to that party and knock the socks off them. And then on Saturday we’ll meet with Sarah for lunch and talk it through together and try to sort this crap out.”
Katie swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “You, know, I could kill him for doing this to me at such short notice, Lisa, and what makes it worse is that if I’d known he wasn’t coming earlier, either you or Sarah could have come instead of wasting £150 for the ticket.”
Lisa giggled. “Oh, sweetheart, I would have done but I have a hot date with this gorgeous guy who’s just to-die-for…”
Katie smiled. “And Sarah is out with Mark, too,” she said. “So, I’ll just have to go to the ball like Cinderella and make the best of it.”
“Tsk,” Lisa tutted. “But you don’t need him. I’ll admit he would have been an asset to have by your side because he is so passionate about food and it does make him charming to talk to but you’ll be fine on your own, won’t you?”
Katie took another deep breath and reassured with Lisa’s support she agreed she’d be OK with as much conviction as she could muster.
“Of course, you will,” Lisa replied firmly, “I mean, you’ve slogged for eight years since you joined the company as a junior and now look at you, a fantastic team leader ready to step up to the project manager’s position. You can do this job standing on your head and as for selling yourself, well…”
Katie grinned at her friend’s confidence in her. Lisa Harding worked in PR and everyone they knew reckoned she was the best at what she did. Lack of confidence wasn’t even on Lisa’s radar and if anyone knew how to pitch themselves it was her. Katie wished her luck with the new guy and then listened to another round of instructions: shoulders back, smile on your face, and knock ‘em dead.
Draining her glass of wine she thought fondly of Lisa who had the knack of turning a bad situation around so that you always came away feeling better, and then realising the taxi was due she slipped the dress on. She smoothed her hands over her hips and for a moment saw herself how she hoped Tim would have seen her, generous breasts with a tiny waist and slim shapely legs. But sadly that wasn’t going to happen tonight. A sudden idea of charging into the restaurant’s kitchen and showing him exactly what he was missing and then throwing his tuxedo at him or into a pan of boiling soup flashed into her mind, but this would only make her look foolish. Grinning with the thought of how much it would embarrass him though she grabbed her clutch bag, pushed her feet into black patent heels and ran out of the apartment.
Daylight was fading and the bright street lights heralded the start of London’s busy night-life as the taxi manoeuvred its way along the Strand. Throngs of people spilled out of restaurants and hotels onto the pavements as the juggling mixture of buses, cars, and bicycles fought their way into positions. The window of the taxi was pulled half-way down and the noise of people laughing and shouting filled Katie’s quiet space while she shuffled trying to pull her dress further down because her legs were sticking to the plastic cover on the seat. She thought of how much Tim would have enjoyed the buzz and laid her hand on the empty space on the seat – she missed him being next to her.
What was she going to do about their relationship? She groaned silently, it was petering-out fast and she didn’t know how to get it back on track. They’d been so happy living together in the apartment for nearly fourteen months now, or at least she had. But, maybe he wasn’t and wanted something more or someone else? Shaking the bad vibes from her mind she promised herself she wouldn’t think of it again until she got home.
The party was held in The Lancaster Room at the Savoy and Katie marvelled at the interior. The website had described it’s décor as ‘sparkling with timeless elegance and glamour’ and when she walked into the room she decided they had it in a nutshell. Although it was a large room with high ceilings, it was warm and she gazed upwards at the glittering lights from four huge chandeliers while listening to the quiet soft notes of Gershwin’s music. It was the ideal choice for the party because it had a clear floor space for dancing and even a small stage where the chief executive would make his speech to open the new advertising campaign. She walked through the room from the tall white Art Deco doors and spotted her two junior technologists, Harry and Alice who were looking at the seating plan pinned to a clip board and she called out a greeting.
Alice smiled sheepishly at her with excited bright eyes. “Is my dress OK?” she asked
Katie nervously.
Katie knew this was Alice’s first big function with the company and was determined to enjoy herself but at the same time didn’t want to let the department down in any way.
“It’s perfect, Alice,” she said hugging her warmly.
Harry stepped forward and kissed Katie’s cheek. “And will I do?” he asked her, grinning broadly in his black tuxedo and freshly gel-spiked hair. He was only twenty one and fresh out of University but she loved his open, sincere personality and eagerness to learn.
“It’ll do very nicely,” she said beaming back at him.
Waitresses and waiters in the obligatory black skirts and trousers with clean white shirts wandered amongst groups of people with trays of champagne flutes and Katie inhaled the heady mixture of strong female perfumes.
“I think we are sitting at table six,” Harry said as they helped themselves to a glass of champagne and manoeuvred their way in between round tables covered with white tablecloths and gilded chairs with cream upholstery. Table six was towards the back of the room and they found their names on place cards propped up in front of white linen napkins, and silver and blue decorations. A silver candelabrum stood in the centre of the table with three white candles and Harry lit them while Alice delightedly fingered her card which had a blue background and her name in silver print.
Excitedly Alice squeezed Katie’s arm and looked in wonderment around the table. “Oh, isn’t it all just beautiful?”
“It certainly is,” Katie agreed while counting ten tables strategically placed around the room. “I just wish we could have been on a table nearer the front.”
Awestruck, Alice whispered, “Well, we couldn’t expect to be sitting at the management tables.”
Katie sipped her champagne thoughtfully. “Of course we couldn’t,” she said, but looked longingly at table three where ten of the company’s project managers were seated and gritted her teeth in determination - she would get her name card onto that table next year if it was the last thing she did.
The I.T. Girl Page 14