by Jules Wake
‘So, what now?’ I asked.
He shrugged. ‘I guess you want me to move out.’ My heart twisted. It seemed so final and abrupt.
I looked at his half-hopeful face.
‘Or I could move into the spare room.’
‘Seriously?’ I felt numb, with no idea what was for the best. It seemed the wrong time to be making big decisions. ‘I don’t know Felix. I can’t sleep in our … that bed again.’
‘Please Tilly. I don’t want us to part like this. I still … I love you. Just not the way you …’
I held up a hand and sighed. ‘Don’t. Things haven’t been right for a while.’
We exchanged resigned, sad smiles.
‘You can stay … but I’ll go in the spare room. For the time being. But he can’t come around here.’
Felix nodded. ‘Fair enough.’
‘What the hell are we going to tell your mother?’
He ducked his head into his hands and shuddered.
Chapter 29
Vince still hadn’t turned up to work but the following day as I determinedly headed down to the basement store room, I swallowed. I’d been down here for a couple hours and my throat was dry and dusty. Very dry. I needed a coffee and it would be much quicker to scrounge one from the IT department than go all the way to the canteen.
Who was I kidding? I was desperate for an excuse to see him.
‘Hello.’ Marcus looked up from the innards of a computer he was working on. ‘What brings you down here?’ He glanced at my hands. ‘No thumbscrews either.’
‘I’m guessing stand-up comedian doesn’t feature on your CV.’
‘Ouch, I’m hurt.’ His eyes crinkled with devilment. ‘Do you know your face is covered in grey stuff?’
I rubbed it quickly. ‘I’ve been rummaging through the basement cataloguing wigs. Thanks to you, I’m probably going to go down with some nasty disease of the lungs from inhaling all the dust. It’s all your fault.’
‘How d’you figure that?’
‘Your bloomin’ brilliant idea to catalogue everything that moves.’
‘Ah.’
‘Although, I’ve found a couple of wigs we can re-use, which will help Jeanie’s budget. She’s delighted.’
He raised an eyebrow, which made me glare at him.
‘Are you going to say, told you so.’
‘I wouldn’t dare.’ He gave me an easy grin.
‘I also came to ask if you wanted to borrow the Kathy Reichs book, I finished it on the coach on the way back. Once you stopped with the texts.’
‘Just keeping your technological skills up to date, although with that brick sending a text must be like inscribing a stone tablet.’
‘Hello, whose battery on their brick outlasted your new-fangled touch screen?’
‘That’s because I’ve got all sorts of interesting apps running in the background which eat at the battery life. Like email.’
‘Well now I know it’s you, you don’t have to email. You can text me.’
‘Or I could WhatsApp? Tweet? Instagram?’
‘Ha!’ I said with the flourish of a musketeer outwitting a foe, ‘but as a phone doesn’t work without the battery, none of those are any good, so I’d say mine on the technological front is far superior. It does all the things it should and has battery left over.’
I folded my arms in triumph. ‘Don’t suppose you could spare me a coffee?’
‘Ah, so that’s why you’re here.’
Did I imagine the quick look of disappointment as he disappeared before coming back with two mugs? I sniffed. It smelt divine.
‘Would you consider doing deliveries to the top floor?’
‘No,’ he laughed, ‘because I know exactly where you put your coffee.’
‘You do?’ From his reaction, it was unlikely, he seemed far too laid back and even a tad amused.
‘Yes, Fred told me.’
‘Told you what?’ No, still too laid back.
‘Just because the CD rom drawer might be just the right size for a large Costa cup, it doesn’t mean you have to use it that way.’
My face fell. ‘Bugger! What a traitor. I thought Fred was on my side.’
‘I’m sure there’s plenty more he omitted. So how are things after your trip home?’
‘Ah.’ He’d provided the perfect opportunity to tell him about Felix but for some reason I hesitated. Would he repeat his offer of a drink?
‘You haven’t fallen out with your mum already, have you? Not after all my prime advice.’
I laughed along with his teasing. A welcome release of tension. ‘I thought you meant with Felix.’
‘Oh.’ Suddenly the inside of the computer seemed terribly fascinating.
‘He is having an affair.’ The words popped out terribly matter of fact.
Marcus’s head popped up, shock on his face quickly followed by concern.
‘It was only when you suggested it, I even considered it. And now everyone keeps asking me “didn’t I know?”. Why does everyone ask that? Should I have done?’ My words tumbled out full of bitterness. ‘Or is it a subliminal thing, everyone assumes you must have known but you were in denial.’
‘Whoa.’ He held up both hands as if trying to stop the runaway freight train of admission. Now I’d started though I couldn’t seem to stop talking.
‘Yes,’ I said with a note of despair. ‘Not only an affair. But. With. Another. Man.’
Marcus’s eyebrows shot up.
‘Yes, that’s right. A man.’ My words continued, staccato-like bullets firing into gravel, spitting up with venom. ‘What a mug? How stupid am I?’ I pulled a face.
Marcus sat back. ‘And you didn’t know?’
‘No,’ I wailed. ‘Although everyone else seems to think it was obvious. Why would I be engaged to him if I knew?’
‘Fair point.’
‘Except Jeanie seemed to assume I did know and was cool with it.’
‘Some people are.’
‘And some people aren’t!’ I glared at him and then slumped in my seat.
‘And you had no idea … I mean.’ He winced. ‘Sorry.’
‘If I had, I wouldn’t have spent a small fortune on push up bras, sensual bath oils and new lighting.’
Marcus seemed to be trying to hide his amusement but he wasn’t doing a very good job, the dimple in his right cheek was a dead giveaway.
‘Don’t you dare laugh,’ I warned him. ‘It’s so embarrassing … trying to seduce your own boyfriend.’ I groaned at the memories. ‘Dance of the seven veils. Revealing cleavage. No wonder he was never interested. You’re going to laugh … I can tell.’
He swallowed. ‘I’m trying hard … I’m sorry …’ he sniggered. ‘It’s … just … you are … well it’s hard to imagine any man turning you down.’
‘Well Felix managed,’ I said with a sulky pout, folding my arms even though his words gave me a definite frisson.
And then we both burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it.
‘It’s not funny,’ I said, trying to catch my breath before going off into another peal of giggles. ‘It’s embarrassing.’
‘What happens now?’
I puffed out my cheeks and slowly let the air out. ‘I’ve let him stay. I feel so stupid but I can’t throw him out. It’s kind of my own fault for never seeing it. And the worst thing is, it is my own fault. I can see it so clearly now. I’ve been such an idiot. Really immature. Blaming everyone else for stuff.’
‘I have to say you’re a nicer person than most.’
I shrugged. ‘We’ve been friends for so long.’ I shook my head. ‘I just feel so dumb.’ At least it made me angry. ‘And ugly.’
‘Ugly?’ He sounded astounded.
‘Inside … all cross, resentful … nasty.’ My hands clenched in and out. ‘I hate it,’ I burst out.
He stared intently at me. ‘You are most definitely not ugly, inside or out.’
The air buzzed with undercurrents and yet we were both so st
ill, focused on each other as if there was an invisible thread between us, drawing us in. When I took a step forward he was already doing the same and we met half way, to stand for a full thirty seconds just looking at each other. Excitement and anticipation fizzed, as if I were perched on the edge of something momentous. Slowly we moved into the kiss, inching forward as if to prolong a moment that I felt sure would be fixed in my memory forever.
Sometimes you just know something is right, even when things are in turmoil, you just know. The certainty clicked as soon as our mouths touched. We settled into a slow, thorough exploration, lips and tongues teasing with the tentative steps of a first dance.
Eventually I calmed and just stood in the circle of Marcus’s arms enjoying the warmth of his chest through the fine cotton of his shirt. He smelt delicious and I could feel the steady beat, the beat of his heart under my cheek. His arms around my back held me fast and I wanted to stay there for ever. Nothing untoward could happen while I stood here. Marcus was as safe and steady as a lighthouse beaming out to sea. A safe harbour. Bizarrely, the very thing I’d fought so hard against.
His chin rested on top of my head, reminding me of the comfort he’d offered when we were at Chatsworth. Only this time I gave into the temptation to nuzzle in the smooth, musky scented skin of his neck. As I did, his hold tightened for a second as if he were trying to do the right thing and then with a groan, his lips found mine again.
It was a soothing kiss, restrained but with the promise of more.
He pulled back and stroked my cheekbone.
‘Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have done that, it’s not exactly great timing but …’ he gave me a very direct look, ‘I find you very attractive.’
That look hit the spot and my knees wobbled as my heart jumped with an extra beat.
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. My cheeks had fired up with a distinct blush, I could feel the redness seeping along the cheekbones.
‘Cliché, but when you finish, would you like to go get a drink, a meal?’
‘I’d love that.’ I gave him a very grateful and slightly shy smile. ‘This looks rubbish though doesn’t it? The fiancé isn’t even cold in his grave … or whatever.’
Marcus put his head to one side. ‘Tilly, I couldn’t give a stuff about him. From the minute you backed out from under the table flashing those delectable pert cheeks of yours, in the flimsiest pants I’ve ever seen, and I have it on very good authority that you have a fine selection, which has further fuelled the very inappropriate thoughts about how I might punish you next time you have a computer mishap.’
‘Oh,’ I squeaked, surprised by the sudden widening of his pupils.
‘Come on, the chemistry has been building for a while.’
‘I-I wasn’t sure you’d noticed. I thought it was just me feeling …’ I stopped talking quickly.
‘I was trying to keep my distance because I knew you were engaged.’ With a naughty grin, he added, ‘Sorry but all bets are off now.’
‘Right.’ Suddenly I felt rather breathless and flustered, the sardonic twist of his mouth suggesting he had something in mind. I wasn’t used to being chased.
‘That’s us corporate marauders I’m afraid. We don’t waste time, we go straight in after what we want.’ Lowering his voice, his eyes darkened and I felt a frisson of desire. It had been one heck of a long time since someone had me feel all woman but he was doing quite nicely.
‘What time do you finish?’
‘About six, where shall I meet you?’
‘Why don’t I come and collect you, I’ve got to go and see the ladies in the costume department.’ He gave a heavy sigh.
I grinned happily. ‘What’ve they done? Surely nothing worse than me?’
‘No one else is as bad as you.’
When I got back to the department, no one seemed to have noticed how long I’d been gone. I decided to type up the notes I’d taken down in the storeroom. To be honest I wanted to hug the secret of the blossoming feelings for Marcus to myself, and savour the early excitement and that tentative fizz of sexual attraction and the delicious feeling of being wanted and desired.
Once I’d managed to update the Excel spreadsheet, feeling rather pleased that I had managed without messing it up, I popped into Jeanie’s office.
‘You OK?’ she asked.
‘Yeah. I’m getting there.’
The clock ticked with stubborn slowness all afternoon, but I diligently tapped away at the computer.
By the time Marcus appeared most of the department had drifted out into the early evening gloom and I had input every item into the new system.
‘Sorry, that took longer than I expected,’ he said.
‘See, I’m not the worst.’
‘It’s an extremely close competition; I wouldn’t feel too confident if I were you.’
His smile robbed the words of any offence.
‘You ready?’ he asked.
‘Yes, and I’ve got news.’
‘What’s that?’
I left the cubby hole and crossed the room to the row of pegs where I kept my coat, smiling to myself as I imagined his reaction when I told him I’d finished the project and nearly finished cataloguing the wigs.
As I shrugged into my coat, I saw Marcus lean down under my work station.
‘What’s Vince done to upset you?’ he asked, pulling the picture of me, Felix and Vince out of my bin.
‘Both of them,’ I said taking the picture out of his hands. ‘Felix.’
I stabbed my finger at Felix in the middle of the picture.
‘That’s Felix?’ His voice pitched at the end.
I felt a chill, not so much at the tone of puzzlement in his voice but his sudden absolute stillness. It was as if he were frightened to move a muscle in case it brought everything around him crashing down.
He followed my finger with his, tracing a line bisecting the picture where Felix stood between me and Vince.
‘Oh God. You know, don’t you?’ For a minute, there was a rushing in my ears and I could barely focus.
The acute anguish on Marcus’s face told me everything I needed to know.
I peered around even though I knew everyone else had either left for the day or gone down to the make-up room.
‘The man Felix is having an affair with is Vince,’ I hissed in a fierce whisper. ‘You mustn’t tell anyone.’
‘But …’ An anguished expression flashed across his face. ‘I saw them.’
I closed my eyes, tensing in sudden understanding.
‘When?’
He grimaced. ‘The night after the gala performance. There were a few of us outside the stage door. Philippe, Guillaume, Leonie. Vince came out of the theatre and ran straight over. I …’ Marcus’s shoulders hunched. ‘I remember because it was such a passionate kiss in full view. And no one else said anything but there was an odd atmosphere, but I didn’t think too much of it.’
‘Oh God, they all know.’ I bent over, clutching my stomach as the physical pain of betrayal sliced deep, followed by a sense of utter mortification. It explained Leonie’s recent coolness towards Vince and Philippe’s concern that night. ‘I need a drink.’
Wariness crossed Marcus’s face. He probably wasn’t sure what to do with an emotional female. He was well to be wary. I needed a very large drink.
I didn’t give him much choice to do anything. Grabbing my coat and like a destroyer on course for its mission, I ploughed past him, warrior queen hell bent on drowning my sorrows and dragged him straight to the Marquis of Anglesey.
Chapter 30
‘I’m going to ssshhtab him in the eye … no, both eyes. Rip his balls off … shorry.’
Marcus winced. ‘Pin them up on the top of the roof thingummy … and tha’s just Felix and jest for starters. I’m gonna burn all his suits … and ties … and shoes and CDs. One big bonfire … in the road ’cos we don’t have a garden.’ I reared up from my slumped position and pointed a wobbly finger at Marcus. He’d scrunched hi
s forehead up in worry. ‘You shink I’m pissed, doncha?’ My head seemed to have decided it belonged to a Thunderbird puppet, wobbling dangerously as I worked hard to keep it upright. Gravity had other ideas.
I tried hard to think what the point I was making was? It had gone.
‘You shink I’m talking bollocks, doncha?’ I nodded sagely. ‘I’m talking bollocks.’ I picked up my newly replenished wine glass which wavered unnervingly, the light refracting from the glass like the warning signal of a lighthouse. Far too late. ‘More wine, vicar?’ I toasted Marcus, who clearly regretted getting me a fourth glass. ‘My round nexsht time.’
I tried to smile winsomely at him which is pretty difficult to do when all the muscles in your face seem to have gone on their own side trip. He had that don’t-you-think-you’ve-had-enough look on his face.
‘Even when you’re looking all disapprovy and superior, you’ve got a very lovely face. You know that? Lovely eyes. Those Slavic cheekbones. Bet all the girls in that banky place you worked before … geddit, banky wanky place, bet they all fancied you, didn’t they? You’re alright … when you’re not being a stiff. You’re looking all disapproving.’ I giggled. ‘I said that already, didn’t I?’
‘You did Tilly.’
‘I did, didn’t I?’ I took another heady slurp of wine. ‘Bloody lovely.’ My head span. Shit, I needed to get a grip. Act sober. I sat up straight and focused on his face. Bloody hell, his eyes were gorgeous.
‘D’you know? You’ve got bloody lovely eyes.’
‘You said that earlier.’ Was he taking the piss?
‘Did I?’
‘Yes.’ He was being all amenable and patronising.
I waved my hands in frantic denial. ‘I mean they’re very handsome … on a purely observatory level. Not that it means I fanshy you or anything. I’m just observating.’ I tried to focus on his face. ‘No, don’t fanshy you at all. Not my type …’ As I said it I felt myself crumple. I gave a mocking, self-effacing, mirthless laugh. ‘My type. Ha! Tha’s funny, isn’t it. My type. Blokes who fancy other blokes … not me. I bet you don’t even fancy me, do you?’
He was laughing at me now, not even trying to hide it.