by Jules Wake
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
I’m intrigued as to what constitutes a fine selection of pants.
R
This constituted flirty and with it came a little buzz. I couldn’t resist typing back.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
And that my friend, is where we’ll leave it for this evening.
Tx
Oh shit I’d done it again, another kiss. And along with it the intimation that I was happy to leave him pondering my underwear.
Felix was engrossed, his fingers tapping away at his iPad.
Guilt gnawed at me. They were just emails, it wasn’t as if I was doing any harm to anyone and Felix wouldn’t mind, he’d probably find them funny.
‘Thought you were going to join me in the bath,’ I said, adding a teasing smile to keep things light.
‘Oh, sorry. I … um, forgot.’
‘Charming. Going off me?’ Even as I said the words, they felt wrong. Since he’d given me the scarf, I’d been trying to make a real effort, even though that night he’d got so drunk with the lads he’d ended up crashing at Kevin’s which should have made me cross. Instead I’d felt relief.
‘Never Tilly. My gorgeous darling. Come here and have a cuddle.’ He sniffed deeply. ‘Mmm, you smell nice. What’s that?’ he asked as he pulled me towards the sofa.
‘The posh rose bubbles that Jeanie bought me for my birthday.’
‘How is the poison dwarf?’ he asked grinning. He and Jeanie had a bit of a love-hate relationship, tolerating each other for my sake.
‘Don’t be mean.’
‘Sorry. Just wondered if you two had had a falling out or something.’
‘No, why?’
‘You haven’t been over there for a while, that’s all.’
And I didn’t need him to remind me. At least once every couple of weeks, I’d go to Jeanie’s tiny cottage in Hammersmith for the night, usually to avoid poker night, but I hadn’t been invited recently.
‘She’s very busy,’ I said, concentrating on tracing the base of my glass. But busy doing what?
Felix grinned, his left eyebrow lifting with a devilish twist. ‘Don’t tell me … she’s got a boyfriend?’
‘You think?’ I said trying to laugh. ‘She’s been off men for the last fifteen years. I don’t think she’s going to change now.’
‘Bit like Mum,’ said Felix shaking his head.
His mum had been on her own since Felix’s dad left her for a dancer down the working men’s club, putting her off all men except for Felix, who she doted on, almost unhealthily so.
She might be resolutely single but ever since we’d got engaged she’d been determined to get in on the act, even taking us to visit the Gideon Hotel three miles down the road from her house. Talk about ordeal – death by afternoon tea; china cups balanced on paper thin saucers that held three sips of watery tea, supercilious staff who looked with suspicion at my vintage dress, all but sniffing out loud, and bridge types rustling their Telegraphs ostentatiously every time someone new walked through the lounge.
It had represented everything I hated. Too much formality and stilted manners. My parents would have absolutely loved it.
‘And talking of Mum, have you decided about Christmas yet? She asked again last night.’
Oh God, she’d be dropping more hints about the wedding. I could see Felix caving in and forgetting about the raspberry mojitos, paso doble and no extended family wedding we’d talked about rather loosely when we first got engaged.
I had no excuse this year. My sense of depression deepened. Christmas Day with Felix’s mother. I couldn’t think of anything less I’d rather do.
Chapter 14
Today’s meeting with Marcus was taking place in our department and in his honour, I’d tidied the space around the computer or rather hidden the evidence of its misuse by removing the empty Costa coffee cup and closing the CD rom drawer. I tidied the skeins of hair that I’d left hanging over the monitor and given the desk a hasty swipe with a damp cloth to get rid of all the coffee rings. It wouldn’t do to get coffee stains, old or otherwise, on his pristine shirt cuffs. I’d been wondering if he owned anything other than white shirts. Today’s evidence suggested not. Brilliant white again. Did he have stocks and shares in a washing powder company?
‘Hello there.’ Jeannie gave him a welcoming smile. How come he warranted one? She had the same view of computers as me but then again, she hadn’t been co-opted.
Vince exchanged an eye-roll with me. ‘Come to sort our Tilly out.’
‘Well, I’m going to attempt it.’ To be fair he included me in his warm smile and then went and spoilt it. ‘Although miracles are beyond my job spec.’
‘I’m sure you’ll do your best.’ Jeanie shot me a wicked grin.
I tapped an impatient foot on the floor.
‘Shall we get started then? Time is money,’ I snapped at Marcus, every inch the corporate banker today. My libido threatened to have another moment. What was it about this man? He absolutely was not my type.
With the sudden adrenaline slushing around my system, I could feel my knees going a bit wobbly, so I straightened and indicated the corner desk that housed the solitary computer.
‘You’re keen.’
‘No, keen to finish. I’ve got proper work to do today.’ I cast a longing look over at a half-finished wig on my work table.
‘I’ve found a piece of inventory management software which is very intuitive, so will be easy to use. I’m quite pleased with it. I’ve installed it on my laptop as I think that antiquated dinosaur would only contribute to the frustration factor.’
‘There’s an easy way to avoid it.’ I gave him a hopeful grin.
‘Do you want … to take notes?’
‘No, I’m sure I can remember. Didn’t you say it was intuitive?’
He shot me a sharp look as I parroted his earlier phrase back at him.
Without pausing to pay any attention, he opened his laptop and for the next half hour proceeded to show me a stock management system he’d set up, bandying around words like response thresholds, expected accuracy and inventory optimisation metrics.
To give him credit, Marcus was incredibly patient and after half an hour it was actually me that was starting to lose the will to live.
‘I’ve only typed in half the stuff we use.’ Roughly translated as precisely four items. ‘It’s going to take forever.’
‘You’ll get quicker.’
‘I wouldn’t bet on it,’ I muttered. ‘Do I really have to put in every single product? Can’t I just put in the things we use a lot?’
‘No, because it defeats the object. Once it’s done, it’s done and it will save you hours in the future. Would you like me to go and get us coffee? As you’ve been … quite a good student.’
When he came back I was close to throwing the computer out of the window.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I’ve lost it all. Stupid laptop’s eaten everything.’
‘It’s a computer, Tilly. It doesn’t eat things. That’s the great thing about them. They only do what you tell them to do.’
‘Not this one, it has an aversion to me.’
‘No, you have an aversion to it. You’re in charge. If you’ve put the information in there, it should still be there. I showed you how to save each product. Did you do that?’
‘Yes, I’m not a complete numpty.’
With an impatient sigh, he took the mouse from me and wielding it with the ease of a sleight of hand card player, a couple of clicks later he opened various things up to be faced with a completely blank screen.
His face creased with a puzzled frown. ‘They should all be there, what have you done?’
‘See I told you. It eats them.’ I cast the computer a baleful glare.
‘That’s not possible. They must be there, somewhere. The system has several fail-safes and if you press sa
ve, it’s saved somewhere.’
I pursed my lips in a pout.
‘Show me what you did?’
I showed him.
‘Now I see what you’re doing.’ Quickly and calmly he showed me again. He was a very good and incredibly patient teacher. Whenever Felix tried to show me anything vaguely technical, he usually ended up laughing uproariously at my utter incompetence and not helping at all and then finally walking off in a strop because he’d run out of patience.
‘Oh God, I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. Thank you. I’ll get a notebook and write this down.’
To his credit, keeping an amazingly bland expression on his face, he nodded and said, ‘That’s probably a good idea.’
I nudged him in the ribs. ‘Which is what I should have done at the beginning.’
He pinched his lips together. ‘It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly to say I told you so.’
‘No but honest.’
‘So, Marcus.’ I knew what I was doing now and the prospect of having to type in a gazillion items was mind numbing. ‘Do you actually know of any operas?’
‘Yes.’ He pointed to the screen. ‘See you can create order profiles for the future based on previous records. Create folders for each production you’re working on.’
‘Seriously, how many operas have you seen?’ I looked around the room. Most of the walls were decorated with pictures of previous productions, principals in their costumes and publicity shots.
I watched his jaw tighten.
‘What do you think? Would it make sense to do it by production, for example? If you were doing La Bohème – for example, you could create a list of products you know you want to use.’
‘You like La Bohème don’t you?’
‘What?’ He had a pretend puzzled look on his face. ‘Tilly, are you paying attention?’ Although he was trying to be stern, all uptight and professional, amusement definitely lurked in his eyes.
‘Do you know how many times you’ve mentioned it?’
He went very still. ‘No, but it’s a famous opera.’
‘So are Carmen, The Magic Flute, The Barber of Seville, La Traviata, Tosca, but funnily enough La Bohème is the only one you’ve ever mentioned. Have you seen it? Do you even know the story?’
Body language tells you a lot and his suddenly read shifty.
‘Have you ever seen an opera at all?’
Like an older brother targeting the most ticklish part of a sibling, I kept going.
‘You haven’t, have you?’
‘Not recently.’ He shifted in his seat. ‘Now.’ He pointed to the computer screen. ‘See. We’ve created a list …’
‘Not recently? When do you think the last opera you saw was?’
‘See if you do it like this, you can save yourself a lot of time, because you can duplicate …’
‘Opera? What was the last one you saw?’
He seemed to find a spot on the ceiling of intense interest suddenly.
‘What about ballet?’
Letting out a huffy sigh, he muttered, ‘I’m not a ballet person.’
‘Marcus, you’re not even an opera person, are you?’ I started laughing at his schoolboy squirming even as I found it rather cute. ‘Have you even been in a theatre?’
‘Course I have … I just.’
‘What was the last thing you went to see?’
‘I took my mum to see Oliver about five years ago.’
‘Under sufferance?’
I watched him fidget with the keyboard, his index finger stroking the keys in a circular motion that suddenly made me feel rather hot.
‘I’m not really a theatre person.’ He shot me a slightly shy smile that raised my temperature another thousand degrees.
I folded my arms firmly over my chest, which had been having an errant and totally inappropriate response to his hand movements. ‘And I’m not really a computer person.’
Touché Mr IT.
He grinned, his face lighting up. Oh boy, those twinkling green eyes socked a powerful punch when he became a human being. I crossed my legs, squeezing my thighs together. ‘Tough! It’s not my job to know about the opera, just to make sure the computers in this place run smoothly to ensure that the show goes on.’
‘That’s not fair,’ I said, unable to stop looking at him.
He just smiled again. My heart bounced oddly in my chest.
‘Shall we set up these sub folders and lists? Here, you do it. And talk me through it.’
I’d have been absolutely fine and back in control of my wayward chemical imbalance if he hadn’t chosen that moment to lay his hand on mine resting on the mouse. I might as well have stuck my finger in the socket. 5,000 volts of pure lust zinged through my system.
‘You click on this icon.’ I tried not to stutter. ‘And then save as?’
‘Show me.’
I gripped the mouse tighter and again he moved my hand. I watched his jawline as he stared intently at the screen. I could smell his aftershave.
‘What?’
‘Save the list but create a new master list to put it in.’
‘Right. Save the list.’ I couldn’t bring myself to move the mouse. It would bring his arm closer to me and any minute now I might melt all over him.
My whole body hummed. Surely, he could feel it.
I forced myself to keep still, trying to focus on the computer screen, ignoring the slight weight of his arm against mine, but I couldn’t help sneaking a quick look at him. For a few very long seconds we stared at each other, his green eyes darkening with sudden smoky awareness.
I swallowed and he moved his hand from the mouse, straightening up and pushing his chair away to put some distance between us. I let out a tiny sigh.
‘I think we’re just about done here for the day.’ He stood up and tugged at his tie.
‘Great,’ I said with false bright enthusiasm, jumping up from my seat, brushing invisible lint from my skirt.
He collected up a sheaf of papers from the table. ‘Come on, it wasn’t that bad.’ He smiled. ‘Once you started listening properly instead of trying to distract me.’
If only he knew. Who knew that a man’s neck and throat could be so distracting?
I shrugged and he nodded, terribly professionally and formally. It was as if I’d imagined that brief moment.
‘So why don’t you give me a bit of a tour up here, so that I can get a feel for some ways you can use the computer to help a bit more.’
Nooo. I wanted him to go. I didn’t want this confusing rush of lust, fascination, whatever it was. It made me feel a bit panicky.
‘I think it’s going to take a few more lessons before I dare attempt to unleash you on a spreadsheet. Let’s just shut this down.’
‘Hi Marcus, so how did you get on with our resident computer numpty?’
I opened my mouth and glared at her in outrage. Jeanie tossed her head with an insouciant shrug.
‘Not bad. Although Tilly needs to carry on inputting data. There’s a lot of work involved I’m afraid.’ He turned to me. ‘Plenty of homework.’
I pulled a face. ‘But what if I delete something?’
‘It’s all retrievable.’
Good job he felt so confident. I wasn’t convinced that without him as wingman I wouldn’t make a complete muck up of things.
‘I’m sure there’ll be more efficiencies I can help your department with.’
Jeanie nodded her head briskly. ‘Excellent. It’s about time we embraced the modern world. Perhaps Tilly can give you a tour, so you have a better idea of what we do. I’m sure you can come up with some ideas about how we can do things differently.’
Had an alien taken her over? Normally she was as change averse as I was. In fact, she, Vince and I had all previously agreed that there was no place for technology up here. What had changed her tune?
‘I must dash, I’ve got a meeting.’ With that she darted out the door with an amused smirk on her face. Wait till I get hold of her later.
My guided tour started with Jeanie’s office. Over the years, she’d made the space her own with an eclectic mix of furniture and bits rescued from the props department which included a brass hurricane lamp, an old-school blackboard tucked in the corner covered in pictures and fabric swatches and a collection of walking sticks and umbrellas, slotted like giant jack straws into a faux elephant foot.
I was used to the papers and piles of books covering every available flat space but I did wonder what Marcus was going to think. More so of the vibrant purple velvet chaise which took up the whole of one wall. Vince and I were rather fond of it, maybe because we’d been commandeered by Jeanie to rescue it from a skip two streets away. We felt that gave us joint ownership and entitled either of us to full reclining rights as and when required and only when Jeanie wasn’t in.
As I showed him in through the door, I watched his expression feign polite observation as he desperately tried to hide the bolt of horror that flitted across.
‘It’s not that bad.’ Although compared to his desk, mine could be likened to the aftermath of a hurricane in a rubbish tip.
He simply looked at me.
Maybe he had a point. Some of the papers were yellowing with age and apart from the books which we did frequently refer to, I couldn’t remember the last time Jeanie had so much as touched any of the piles of paper. Whenever they got too big, we just moved them and added them to the dust-coated collection under the chaise.
‘Tell me you don’t have meetings in here?’
Just looking at the crowded, cluttered space made my back twinge.
‘Sometimes.’
He just shook his head and moved past me, back out of the office. I stood there for a moment looking with fresh eyes. If we tidied up in here, got rid of the chaise and put up some proper book shelves, there’d be plenty of room to sit at a desk with the books spread out, without having to crouch on the floor.
I glared at Marcus’s broad back. I was not going over to the dark side. My hormones had a lot to answer for. Now they were messing with my brain.
Suddenly anxious to get rid of him, I speeded up and waved my hand vaguely in the direction of the four corners of the department. ‘Make-up store over there. Vince, Jane, Sasha, Jason over there. Dyeing area over there.’ I pointed to an industrial sink and drying racks.